Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 27

Became the Sultan of Osman – Episode 27

#Episode 27. The Tumultuous Situation (3) (Revised)

Time seems to stand still when measured in days or weeks, but when you look back, you realize how quickly it has passed.

It’s been over a year since I became Yusuf, and more than a year since I became the Sanjakbey [governor] of Trabzon.

I’ve adapted to this life, despite its many inconveniences, and I feel a great sense of accomplishment when the seeds I’ve sown begin to bear fruit.

First of all, the farmers were amazed by the clover’s effect.

“I never dreamed there would be such a difference just by planting clover. Doesn’t it look better than the land where nothing was planted?”

I wouldn’t know.

What would someone who hasn’t planted a single blade of grass on Arbor Day know?

Since someone who has farmed all their life says so, I just nod, believing that clover is effective.

“Then we can try the 4-field crop rotation method as recorded. This must not fail.”

“Of course. I will stake my life on its success.”

You might wonder if they need to stake their lives on farming, but they had good reason to.

They were the very ones who ruined the farmland under Selim’s orders.

‘If it were another prince, these people would have been sold as slaves and become Hassan the Second.’

That’s not self-praise; that’s the law.

I’m the one who gets a salary from the Has [Ottoman crown lands], but the land ownership ultimately belongs to the country.

If you damage the country’s land, it’s only natural to receive a fitting punishment.

‘Of course, they’d feel wronged. They did it because the prince ordered them to, but they’re the ones getting punished.’

Even knowing they would be punished, no one here could muster the courage to defy a prince as menacing as Selim. If they had, they would already be buried in the ground.

That’s why I forgave the farmers, and they did their best in return for the favor.

The land covered with clover was planted with turnips and wheat, and Yusuf spoke to the manager overseeing the Has.

“We also need to figure out how many more livestock we can raise with the turnips and clover.”

“Understood.”

The best advantage of the 4-field crop rotation method is that it allows you to raise more livestock.

‘They wouldn’t use compost made from human waste no matter what, so what can I do? I have to raise as many livestock as possible.’

More livestock means more compost, and it eliminates the need for fallow land altogether.

Considering the upcoming war, we needed as much food as possible.

‘Even the Janissaries [elite Ottoman infantry] will revolt if the food is bad.’

It’s no coincidence that the Ottomans did their best to ensure food supplies.

To feed 20,000 people for three months, 50,000 camels were needed to carry the supplies, and records show that 20,000 people ate over 200,000 sheep in 21 months.

The empire moved with an army close to 100,000, so the cost of food alone was enough to break their backs.

Anyway, the 4-field crop rotation method, which would be responsible for the food supply, was progressing smoothly, but cement was a difficult challenge.

It wasn’t hard to find the main ingredients, lime and clay.

The area was full of limestone water from rivers and groundwater, so to exaggerate a bit, limestone was rolling around even in the neighborhood back hills.

Even baking it was fine.

They needed temperatures higher than lava, but how could they not raise the temperature when they were smelting iron?

Naturally, Hassan, who made the first product, ran over with a happy face.

“Your Highness, I’ve finally made it!”

Yusuf examined the cement that Hassan brought.

‘It’s not as good as the cement from the Roman era, but it’s not bad.’

Roman cement mixed with volcanic ash was stronger than modern cement, so it wasn’t a fair comparison.

Even this was good enough to use, and Hassan said with an excited voice.

“It hardens like stone so quickly; Roman technology is truly amazing!”

“Don’t get too excited yet.”

Yusuf handed the cement back to the bewildered Hassan.

“Find out how much gravel and sand to mix in to make it the strongest.”

Cement itself is easily broken, so when mixed with gravel and sand to make concrete, it can replace bricks.

Yusuf gave Hassan, who nodded as if that was easy, a mischievous smile.

“Then you have to create a technology that can produce it in large quantities.”

Hassan broke out in a cold sweat at this.

“…Your Highness? It’s hard to make a lot because of the baking process in the middle.”

At least not with the current method of baking each one in a smithy.

I know it’s difficult, but there’s no choice.

“How much would we need if we were building a building with this? And if it’s not a regular building but a fortress, we can’t handle it with the current method.”

What good is having the technology to build a fortress in a snap if you don’t have the materials to build it with?

Only then did Hassan realize the necessity of cement, and he looked haggard.

Since it was Yusuf who kept singing about the war, this had to succeed no matter what.

“Hassan, you can bring in technicians or blacksmiths, whatever it takes. Just make it.”

Slaves don’t have a choice anyway. They do what their master tells them to do.

Of course, I didn’t just throw him the task; I also told him about the methods I could think of, so he made some progress.

Cement had many twists and turns, but the cavalry training I’m watching now was just as challenging.

A loud voice rang out from among the cavalrymen holding up hollow, 5-meter-long spears.

“Attention! Keep your knees close together!”

The cavalry, even more tightly packed at the command, moved slowly, and as the target approached, the command was repeated.

“Lower the lances!”

The cavalrymen, with their lances forward, increased their speed and passed straight through the target.

The pile of grass blocking the way burst like dust; if it had been a person, it would have been a bloody mess.

Despite the terrifying destructive power, the expressions of Yusuf and Arda, who were watching, were not very good.

“The speed still drops in the middle.”

Even though it was just an enemy made of a pile of grass, the speed of the cavalrymen approaching it visibly decreased.

Even though the speed difference seemed small, the difference in penetration was enormous.

“The speed dropped less thanks to using long spears.”

“It’s more of a problem with the horses than the people, so I’m not going to blame them.”

The reason why the speed drops like that is that horses are more cowardly than you can imagine.

So much so that if they encounter a creature or obstacle much smaller than themselves, they can’t step on it or jump over it and stop in their tracks.

‘The warhorses aren’t that cowardly, but they need to be better than they are now to play their part in actual combat.’

It takes more than ordinary courage to charge into enemy soldiers with weapons.

Overcoming this fear was necessary not only for the horses but also for the people.

Whether it was a fight between cavalry or a fight between cavalry and spearmen, it was close to a chicken game where the side that got scared was more likely to lose, and the longer the spear, the less the horse would be scared and the sooner it would collide with the enemy, minimizing the reduction in destructive power.

“Arda will have to train them well. They’ll have to be on the battlefield in a year at the earliest.”

“A year?”

It wasn’t a generous period at all, but Arda was also aware that he had to prepare for war.

Because the wind blowing from the east was ominous.

Arda nodded silently and asked a question that suddenly came to mind.

“What are you going to do about the armor?”

“Armor… It’s important.”

Armor not only protects the body but also increases destructive power by adding weight.

The spears they are practicing with now are hollowed out, so they are close to disposable items that mostly break when they charge once.

That means one or two spears per cavalryman is not enough.

On top of that, if you add armor that costs as much as a car in modern terms, the finances would be shaken.

Fortunately, there was a way.

“If necessary, I’ll have to ask my father.”

By then, they would have fought Venice and taken a lot of spoils, so wouldn’t he be able to give me some armor?

Yusuf, who was thinking of confidently ripping off the Sultan, returned to the castle with his improved horsemanship and saw two letters that had arrived for him.

One was from Mzechabuk of Samtskhe.

“He finally took the position.”

It was a letter saying that his brother, the ruler of the Samtskhe Principality, had died and he had taken the position of regent.

The letter doesn’t say that he killed his brother directly.

‘He must have killed him secretly.’

He parted with eyes gleaming with desire, so he must have killed his brother with his own hands.

This proved that Ottoman-style friendship was not special.

“I encouraged him, but is it natural to covet power even to the point of killing family members if there’s an opportunity?”

It’s no coincidence that there’s a saying that you don’t share power even with your children.

Thinking that, Yusuf picked up the next letter and smiled.

It was a letter from Aisha.

“She’s finally coming back.”

It contained the news of Aisha’s return, who had been stirring up the Circassians for the past few months.

***

Doo-doo-doo-

“Attack! Attack!”

The sentries, who belatedly discovered the Qizilbash [Shia militants] thanks to the cloth covering their horses’ hooves, rang the alarm like crazy, but it was already too late to respond.

“For Allah! For Ismail!”

Like fanatics who believe in a savior and worship Ismail, they had no fear, and they broke through the gaps in the palisade and devastated the enemy camp.

Ismail’s tactics, which had been repeated several times, were persistent and vicious.

Ismail, outnumbered 27,000 to 7,000, strictly avoided direct battles and only aimed for hit-and-run tactics and night raids.

Unlike the Qizilbash, who were made up of pure cavalry, Farrukh’s army, which included infantry, had no choice but to be unilaterally swayed in the field.

But Farrukh wasn’t stupid enough to keep getting caught by the same trick.

Suddenly, bright lights and the sound of rough hooves echoed, and the Qizilbash were surprised and shouted.

“It’s a trap! Retreat! Retreat!”

But it was already too late, and Farrukh’s cavalry charged in as the Qizilbash failed to gain proper speed.

“It’s time for revenge! Kill them all!”

As if to relieve the resentment of being persistently attacked, Farrukh’s cavalry chased after the fleeing Qizilbash, and there were eyes watching the scene.

After confirming that the enemy’s cavalry had left the enemy camp, Ismail said in a cold voice.

“Bring Farrukh to me.”

The cavalry took the bait and left their positions, and the infantry, intoxicated by the false victory, could not stop the Qizilbash pouring in from the opposite side.

Farrukh, who was conspicuously in the most splendid camp, was dragged away in tatters, and Ismail sneered at him.

“Farrukh, I’ve been waiting for the day I could see you like this.”

“I am Ismail.”

Farrukh, kneeling, looked up at Ismail with a humiliated face.

Farrukh was a king who used the Persian word for king, Shah, and the Shirvanshah dynasty he ruled had a terrible relationship with Ismail.

The family’s enemies were the Shirvanshah dynasty and Farrukh before his eyes.

“Now that you’re in this state, the two of them in Allah’s presence must be smiling.”

Farrukh scoffed at the words.

“Allah my ass! They’re being thrown into hellfire and suffering… Keuk!”

Ismail, who stabbed Farrukh’s hand, lightly brushed the blood off his hand and said.

“Endure even if you want to die right now. I’ll occupy Baku and hang your head in front of your castle.”

“Ismail!”