Next morning I told Torgut-reis and the eunuch all that had happened and urged them to await the summons to the Seraglio in all confidence, since by diplomacy I had succeeded in winning over the Grand Vizier to Khaireddin’s cause. At first the eunuch would not believe that I had met the Grand Vizier in person, but while we were yet talking a horseman arrived to bid us make ready to appear before the Sultan. Soon afterward cooks and scullions arrived in great numbers, bearing with them in Chinese bowls an abundant meal from the Divan kitchen. After the noon prayer a hundred mounted spahis clad in purple suddenly appeared. Their jeweled weapons flashed in the sun, and their saddle cloths were adorned with heavy turquoises. Their Aga presented Torgut with a gift from the Sultan-a magnificent horse whose bridle and saddle were ornamented with silver, pearls, and precious stones.
Overjoyed at this splendid present, Torgut-reis gave me thirty ducats and the eunuch added a somewhat smaller sum. We then set forth in ceremonial procession to the Seraglio. Huge crowds hailed us as we passed, and called down blessings upon our heads. Slaves, black and white, carried Khaireddin’s presents, of which the most gorgeous had been uncovered for all the people to behold. Ten beautiful girls and boys carried coins and gold dust in baskets of plaited palm leaves, so that we felt deeply thankful for the protection of our mounted escort. In my arms I held a white-cheeked monkey that had grown so much attached to me on the voyage that it allowed no one else to carry it. It put its arms about my neck, chattering and grimacing at the bystanders until I had a flock of laughing, shouting children at my heels.
We were led past the great mosque and through the Gate of Happiness to the forecourt of the Seraglio, which was surrounded by the barracks of the janissaries, the Sultan’s stables, the library, and the soldiers’ bathhouse. In the forked branches of ancient plane trees hung numberless iron cooking pots, and on the lawns groups of janissaries were taking their ease. The Aga of our escort handed us over to the guards at the Gateway of Peace, and here the merchandise, slaves, and seamen were left while Torgut-reis, the eunuch, and myself were shown into a waiting room within the archway. We sat down on hard and dirty cushions, whence we could see into another room on the opposite side of the arch. Broad-bladed headsman’s axes hung there on iron hooks fixed to the wall, and on the floor was a pyramid of some thirty human heads. The stench was unbearable, for many of the heads were no longer quite fresh, having been brought from different parts of the Ottoman Empire for the viziers to see, as conclusive proof that sentence had been carried out.
The sight did not tend to raise our spirits, but since I was always eager to learn, I engaged the guard in conversation. In return for a ducat he showed me his bloodstained apron and also the pit into which the bodies were thrown, to make their slow way along an underground drain into the Sea of Marmara. He told me that even the most eminent ambassadors had to wait on the same cushions as ourselves, as this gave them opportunity for wholesome meditation upon the Sultan’s limitless power, the vanity of existence, and the incalculable twists and turns of fortune. I learned that only about fifty heads a day were thrown into the vaults, which testified to the mild rule of the Sultan and the good order prevailing in his dominions. Suleiman would not even allow torture at interrogations. Besides the deaf-mutes there remained a few skilled executioners, both black and white, who had been in the service of Selim the implacable, also a Chinese and an Indian specialist in methods of torture peculiar to those distant lands.
“But,” added the friendly guard, “should our lord the Sultan wish to rid himself of some slave who has fallen out of favor, after being honored with his friendship and a high appointment, such a slave is not made to kneel at the block. Instead the Sultan sends him a black kaftan and a strong silken cord. No one has ever abused this mark of favor; all have gladly ended their days by their own hand and received honorable burial. The Sultan then takes back house, slaves, and all that the deceased used and enjoyed while the sun of fortune and favor stood at the zenith. Especially during the reign of the beloved Sultan Selim were sudden changes of fortune seen, and he was not sparing in the item of black kaftans. Great activity prevailed always in the tailors’ workshops, and in those days we would curse our enemies with the words, ‘May you become Selim’s Vizier!’“
Hardly had he ended when two gigantic men stepped up to me, grasped me firmly by the arms and led me between them into the
Courtyard of Peace. Torgut-reis and the eunuch were treated in the same manner. I struggled and protested loudly that I had done no wrong, but one of the chamberlains hastened forward to me with his staff of office in his hand, and exhorted me in a whisper to hold my tongue.
I became aware of the breathless stillness that hung over the Courtyard of Peace, so brilliant in its white and gold, and fell silent. They led me unresistingly into the great chamber of the Divan where a number of the most eminent dignitaries of the Seraglio were assembled, wearing ceremonial kaftans. I had no time to look at them more closely, for we were taken straight across the room to a low throne. I at once fell to my knees and pressed my forehead to the floor, remaining in this position like Torgut-reis and the eunuch until by a gentle pressure on my arms my escort signed to me that I might now lift my eyes to behold the lord of the two halves of the world, the Sultan of sultans, Allah’s shadow on earth.
The moment is fitting to bring this book to an end and begin the next, in which I shall tell of Sultan Suleiman and of my own new dignities in the Seraglio.
BOOK 4.
THE Sultan of the Ottomans, Allah’s Deputy, Ruler of Rulers, Commander of Believers and Unbelievers, Emperor of East and West, Shah of Shahs, Great Khan of Khans, Gate of Victory, Refuge of all Peoples, and the Shadow of the Eternal-in short, Sultan Suleiman, the son of a slave girl-was at this time thirty-four years old. Sitting cross legged on the cushions of his low throne he was more breath taking in the fantastic splendor of his dress than any jeweled idol. From a canopy blazing with rubies and sapphires a tassel of giant pearls hung down over his head. A damascened and jewel-hilted blade lay within his reach, while on his head he wore the turban of the sultans, ringed with a triple diamond tiara. The backward-sweeping plume was held in place by a diamond crescent; his dress flashed with myriads of precious stones and must have been heavier to wear than iron chains. At every movement, at every breath, he sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow. Yet it was the man behind the glory who held my attention.
His rather thin face and slender neck appeared pale against the glittering gems; he had the smoke-colored complexion often seen in those of melancholy temperament. The keen, aquiline nose reminded me that the symbol of Ottoman sovereignty was the vulture. The lips under the narrow mustache were thin, and the cold sternness of his gaze was such as to inspire the profoundest awe in those of his subjects who had the supreme privilege of pressing their foreheads to. the ground before him. But when I scrutinized this face to read its secret, there seemed to flow from it a fathomless, hopeless woe, telling me that he of all men best understood the futility of power and knew himself to be as mortal as the meanest of his subjects. Perhaps he too harbored within him an incorruptible judge.
At his right hand stood Ibrahim, the Grand Vizier, as splendidly arrayed as the Sultan himself, though without a tiara. On his left stood the second and third viziers, Mustafa-pasha and Ajas-pasha, whose long beards and air of covert suspicion threw into yet stronger relief the open, noble bearing of Ibrahim. I contemplated this most remarkable man with even greater interest than I felt for the Sultan, seeing personified in him the glorious future standing guard over the Ottoman throne; the two old men were but the vanquished past.