Shadow of God (4 page)

All the while, Selim had hardly moved. When the man was quite still, Selim released the garrote, unwound it from the mute’s neck, and allowed the body to fall forward onto its face. He took the bow and restrung it with the silk cord. Then he carefully replaced the bow in the rack.

Selim motioned to the remaining mutes, who were led away by the servant. A moment later, four of his Janissaries hurried in from the corridor and dragged out the body of the strangled man.

The five kneeling mutes were dispatched to the quarters of Selim’s two older brothers. There, the mutes carried out Mehmet’s law. They strangled Selim’s two brothers in their beds, with silken
cords from the archer’s bow. Care was taken in the struggle that no royal blood was spilled. They immediately sent a message back to the Palace. None of the mutes cared to enter the presence of the Sultan if not absolutely necessary.

But, Selim was still not content. The two dead brothers had five living sons. Selim feared that they, too, might mount opposition to his Sultanate. Their fathers had been the elder sons, and these sons might feel that their fathers were more entitled to the throne than Selim. Again, the assassins were sent out, and this time Selim went with them, listening to the struggles and cries of his nephews from the adjoining room. Some say Selim actually cried when he heard the mutes strangle his favorite nephew, the youngest, who was only five years old. But, who would ever know? The assassins, the only witnesses, were deaf and mute.

By the time Selim, himself, lay dying of cancer in his tent, only eight years into his reign, he had claimed the lives of all his nephews, sixty-two blood relatives, and seven Grand Viziers.

Piri Pasha left Selim, and walked to the tent of the Sultan’s doctor, Moses Hamon. Hamon had been in constant attendance for several months, as Selim’s life began to slip away. The Hamon family had served the Sultans of the Ottomans for many years. In 1492, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella had expelled the Jews from Spain. The Inquisition had steadily eroded the power of the Jews. By the time of the expulsion, thousands had been tortured to death for their perceived corruption of the new Christian principles. These Sephardic Jews emigrated to Portugal, North Africa, Europe, the Middle East, and the Ottoman Empire. The Portuguese forced baptism upon the new settlers, and the European Christians persecuted the newly arrived Jewry, as had the Spanish. Only under the Muslims was the Jewish community welcomed and able to flourish.

Joseph Hamon was one of the Sephardic Jews who landed upon the shores of Turkey in the late fifteenth century. A skilled doctor, he became the personal court physician of both Sultan Bayazid and his son Selim. Joseph’s son, Moses Hamon, succeeded Joseph and became the court physician to Selim. Moses would ultimately
become one of the most influential men in the Ottoman Empire, and his sons would carry on the dynasty of Jewish doctors who served the Sultans.

Hamon was just finishing his dinner when Piri Pasha entered his tent. The doctor rose from his cushions on the floor, and greeted him.

“S
alaam Aleichum,
Piri Pasha,” Hamon said in Arabic.

“
Shalom Alechem,
Doctor Hamon,” Piri replied in Hebrew.

Hamon smiled at Piri’s courtesy in using the Hebrew, rather than the Arabic greeting. He motioned to the cushions, and the two men sat down. A servant brought in a tray of fruit and two goblets of wine. Piri waved away the wine, and instead took a bunch of grapes from the tray. Hamon dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand.

“How is the Sultan today, Piri Pasha?”

“The same. No. Worse, I think. He does not wake now. I cannot get him up to eat or drink. I think the end is very near.”

“His sleep is a kindness. The tincture of opium is a blessing to those who suffer from the terrible pain of cancer. But, I think you may be right. If the Sultan stops eating and drinking, then he cannot live very long.”

“Come with me, please, Doctor. I need you to assure me that he will be comfortable. And I need you to tell me when the end comes. You have served my Sultan well. As did your father, Joseph.”

Hamon nodded his thanks, but he said nothing. He could sense that Piri had more to say. The silence lasted several minutes, and the men filled the time nibbling at the fruit. Finally, Piri said, “Doctor Hamon, I trust your discretion as I trust almost no one else. The Hamons have never betrayed their position in our household, and have always given us the best of care.”

Hamon nodded again, and still he waited.

“So, I must ask you to bear a burden for me.”

Hamon smiled. “But,
you
, Piri Pasha, are the ‘Bearer of the Burden,’ are you not? I have heard the Sultan call you that many times.”

“Yes, I am, Doctor,” Piri acknowledged with a smile. “But, I am old; and for now, I must share this heavy weight. Only you can be trusted to help me.”

“Tell me what to do, and I will do it.”

“First, you must wait with the Sultan until life has left his body.”

“This, I can do. This is my job. My duty.”

“But, you must tell
only
me, when he is dead. Nobody else must know for ten days. We must make the pretense that he lives, until I can bring his only son, Suleiman, back to Istanbul. Right now, Suleiman is in Manisa, where he governs. It will take me two or three days to get word to him, and then another five days for him to return to the capital. I must make sure that the succession is unopposed, and that there will be no obstruction to his taking the throne.”

“I understand, Piri Pasha. You can rely on me.”

“I know I can, Doctor. Let us go directly to the tent of Selim. I will tell you more when we have seen to the Sultan.”

The two men rose, and left together.

The last months had been so difficult for Piri Pasha. Selim had been sick for years, but toward the end, the pain had intensified his anger and wrath, and many of those close to him had suffered because of it. Piri tried to intervene when his master dispensed cruel and unreasonable punishment upon his subjects. He had been able to prevent a few death sentences from being carried out. But, he could not push too far without risking his own life.

Piri knew there was nothing the doctor could do for his master. Hamon might be able to bring a little comfort to the Sultan dying in his tent. Piri and Hamon entered the tent, while the young Janissary guards remained outside. Piri led him to Selim’s bedside, stepping back into the dimness to wait. Hamon kneeled on the carpet and examined Selim. He felt for the pulses, and carefully lifted each lid to gaze into the eyes. Then, he gestured for the oil lamp to be brought nearer, as he looked carefully at Selim’s pupils, which were tightly constricted from the opium.

When the doctor first touched the Sultan, Piri’s hand went instinctively to his sword. He had to restrain himself when
anyone
touched his master, for he was always at the ready to protect the
Sultan’s person. So many years as the nearest sword to Selim had made it Piri’s instinct that nobody should get within a sword’s length of his Lord without Piri’s express permission. There was a line in space that no one dared to cross, and it was Piri who defined and defended that line.

Hamon examined the Sultan for what seemed like a very long time. He pressed his palms against Selim’s chest, and felt inside his robes for the beat of his heart. Then, Hamon placed a thin sheet of silk over the bare breastbone of the Sultan, and laid his ear to Selim’s chest. He listened for the sounds of the heartbeat, the silk preventing his ear from actually touching his Sultan’s skin. He touched the neck and the wrist through the silk as well, and the angle of his jaw trying to find a sign of the blood flowing through the royal vessels. Though understanding of the circulation of the blood would not reach the West for a long time to come, it was already well understood throughout the Arab world.

Next, he laid a hand upon the skin of Selim’s abdomen, trying to determine a decrease in his body temperature. He lifted the Sultan’s lids again. An expression of shock passed across his face. Now the Sultan’s pupils were fixed and dilated. He turned to Piri Pasha, with resignation in his eyes.

Piri moved toward the bed and knelt down upon a cushion. “Well?”

The doctor cast his eyes to the ground. “I am sorry, my Lord, but our Sultan is dead.”

“You’re certain?” His voice was flat; devoid of emotion.

“I am, my Lord.”

Piri rose so suddenly that Hamon reflexively backed away. For a second, he thought that the Grand Vizier was going to draw his long scimitar and strike him dead for bearing this terrible news.

But, Piri Pasha merely stood over him, his fists clenched. His body and his face were entirely calm. He knew exactly what had to be done, and was relieved that he could now begin. His Emperor’s suffering was over, and now there wasn’t a minute to lose.

“Stay with the body of the Sultan. Do not allow anybody to enter the tent, nor even view the body from the doorway.” He spoke
now as if to an underling; as master to servant. Hamon listened impassively. Piri went on. “Help me to put out the fire, and move the brazier away from the body, so the light of the oil lamp will be the only light in the tent.”

Piri poured sand into the brazier. Hamon crouched, struggling with the heavy brazier and its still-hot cargo of coals. Together the two men dragged it to the side, away from the body. Piri looked around the tent, and moved several small articles of clothing. He arranged Selim’s personal effects, so that the tent would appear as if all were in order; that Selim were alive and merely resting.

“I will leave orders for your food to be brought here by the Sultan’s own Janissaries. They will leave it for you outside the tent flap. Nobody must know that our Sultan is dead. Nobody! Not for ten full days! Do you understand?”

Hamon nodded, but said nothing. His position as the respected physician in the service of the Sultan had given way to little more than that of a watch dog. He had grown used to restraining his anger, for he knew how precarious a place the Jew had in the Muslim court, and how important his position of influence was to the Jews of the Ottoman Empire.

Piri went to the side of the tent where the possessions of the Sultan Selim were stored in ornately carved wooden chests. Each was sealed with the
tu
ra
, the royal crest. Breaking one seal, he carefully opened a long, slim box, and placed the cover on the carpet. Next, he unwrapped the silk cloth that swathed the Sword of the House of Osman. The weapon was encased in a silver scabbard encrusted with precious jewels. The smallest of these could keep a man and his family living in luxury for several lifetimes. He pulled the sword partially from its sheath, and held it aloft. The red glow from the lamp caught the polished steel blade and reflected the color onto the walls of the tent. Piri resheathed the sword with a loud snap, then polished the silver scabbard with a piece of silk.
Here is the power and the authority of the Empire
, he thought.
Who wears this sword at his side, rules the world.

Piri carefully wrapped the sword again, and tied the cloth tightly with the woven silk cords. He closed the box and stood, placing the
sword into his waistband, covering it with his outer robes. The Sword of the House of Osman would not leave his side until he had delivered it to Selim’s only living son and heir to the Ottoman Empire. Suleiman.