Chapter 35
Von Kettler laughed.
"Don't you Swedes count suicide a sin?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" demanded the big Swede.
"You drew blade on Jurij Wiśniowiecki," said Von Kettler. "There are about three people in the world who can fight him, and one of them is his father."
The Swede hesitated.
"It's according to the agreement you signed," said Von Kettler. "I read it too. If you'd not scuttled the ships, you'd have had between five hundred to a thousand thalers each for them from our government. But you made your choice. I did try to tell you not to scuttle any ships."
"The hell!" the man put his sword away. "You did tell us not to scuttle ships. I didn't understand. Well, next time you need us, we shall know to sell ships back to you."
"You will, indeed, and if you work for anyone else which does not buy in ships, you will know who has a market for them," said Von Kettler, pleasantly.
"Good; I will not make the same mistake again," the man nodded curtly, and nodded to Jurko as well.
"Which is as much of an apology as you'll get," said Von Kettler, as the man withdrew.
Jurko shrugged.
"Mercenaries are not gentlemen," he said. "Even if he does have a title."
oOoOo
Kara Mustafa ordered that a request to parley be made. And with his entourage he walked across the battlefield as Jeremi approached from the other direction. Kara Mustafa's auxiliaries hastily erected a tent. They had not brought the campaign throne; it still smelled offensive. However, Kara Mustafa had an impressively carved stool brought, and seated himself.
Jeremi came with an honour guard of mixed winged hussars and Cossacks.
A servant brought a plain stool for him to sit on. It was taller than Kara Mustafa's, and Jeremi sat on it, relaxed, outside the tent.
"They will be ready for us to go within shortly," said Kara Mustafa.
"I prefer to enjoy the summer sunshine without," said Jeremi. "God has given us a beautiful clear blue canopy above; it would be churlish, surely, to ignore His gift and the heraldic music of His larks to skulk inside a tent, hidden from our men as though we made secret deals, not those which concern our respective nations."
Kara Mustafa considered, and nodded.
"Strike the tent," he said.
His servants knew better than to shrug in incomprehension.
"You are not Mehmet IV," said Jeremi.
"No; it was most unfortunate, but the madness which touched his late father also welled up in my unfortunate late Sultan, who died of an apoplexy in front of us all when the letters were delivered to him," said Kara Mustafa.
"How unfortunate," said Jeremi. "Whilst my son has no felicity of style, nor any taste for diplomacy, it seems... strange... that such should be enough to raise so much rage in a young man in good health." He was grim faced; were the Ottomans going to accuse him of putting some poison on the letters?
Kara Mustafa sweated.
"It is sadly the case that the late Sultan suffered a head wound in his extreme youth, and it must have burst open within the skull," he said.
"Ah? How sad," said Jeremi, who suddenly realised that there was no accusation but a cover-up of palace politics. "And I negotiate with whom?"
"I am Köprüllü Kara Mustafa Pasha, acting Sultan, with expectation of ratification of a change of dynasty," said Kara Mustafa.
Jeremi's eyes narrowed.
"A word of advice?" he said.
"I listen to a brother monarch," said Kara Mustafa.
"Marry the boy's mother. She's an ambitious piece and it might save your life," said Jeremi. "As you people can have more than one wife."
"An interesting suggestion."
"It's not in my interest to see too much instability in the empire," lied Jeremi, smoothly.
If this young man could navigate his way round the pitfalls of rulership, he might be someone with whom one might deal, whilst never trusting him. A far cry from the older, but more naive, Aleksej.
"I see," said Kara Mustafa. "Now, about this treaty. It is the treaty of a conqueror to the conquered."
"Yes," said Jeremi. "The terms are clear enough, I think. An agreement to leave the Crimea alone, not to raid our shores, and to cede the administration of Moldavia to the Rzeczpospolita, as well as an agreement not to go to war with the Rzeczpospolita."
"There are no terms covering your ships harassing ours," said Kara Mustafa.
"I beg your pardon; permit me to rectify that," said Jeremi, clicking his fingers.
A light table was brought, and Jeremi took the treaty.
"The shipping of the Ottoman Empire to heave to upon demand of any Rzeczpospolita vessel to permit the search and seizure of any slaves of Rzeczpospolita or other Christian or Jewish origin," he wrote. Kara Mustafa read this addition.
"This wasn't what I intended," he said.
"It's what you get," said Jeremi.
Kara Mustafa met his eyes.
The younger man dropped his eyes first. Jeremi had seen the flash of pure hatred in them first, however. Not a man to be trusted.
"I'll sign," Kara Mustafa said.
"Just remember, it's what has given you the throne – if you can hold it," said Jeremi, gently. He went on very softly, and mendaciously, "And be aware that you were seen by my spies when you poisoned the former Sultan. Let us just say that if there is no trouble, it is in my interests to keep a written deposition of that quite quiet."
"They do well to call you the fox," said Kara Mustafa. "You are cunning, opportunistic, bold... and thoroughly unpalatable."
Jeremi laughed.
"Remember that before my epithet was 'The Fox' it was 'Ironfist' and I have not lost the iron in my fist."
"I will not forget it. I trust your son will have withdrawn himself from our city when I return?"
"Oh! Yes, I will send him a messenger. I suspect that you will find everything in perfect order."
"He seems an able administrator and a fair justice," admitted Kara Mustafa.
"You will also find the Seraglio unviolated, but I doubt that anything moveable from the palaces will remain," said Jeremi. "We have a hard and fast rule of no rape. I wonder if the same can be said for your men."
"I do not know; but I will be making sure that they are as disciplined as you claim your men to be," said Kara Mustafa, who was impressed, despite himself. "We shall begin to withdraw in the morning."
"A safe journey; God be with you," said Jeremi.
"I can almost believe that you mean it," said Kara Mustafa.
"I do," said Jeremi. "There are a sufficiency of woes in the world without going to war."
"You're unbelievable," marvelled Kara Mustafa. "You speak in a way which makes me think that you indeed do value peace, and yet you do war with a ruthlessness I have rarely seen."
"Of course. I believe in peace, and I will do what it takes to maintain it," said Jeremi. "When you run a city or a country, you swiftly arrest any thieves, and you take them by such means as are necessary. If they are pernicious, you also make an example of them."
"I understand," said Kara Mustafa.
He had never met a man he feared more than this softly-spoken Sarmatian.
oOoOo
Gryzelda beamed brightly at Gonzaga who had decided not to visit Chocim.
"Isn't it splendid news?" she said.
"Enlighten me, your majesty," said Gonzaga.
"I have a letter from Jurij," said Gryzelda. "He has picked some choice jewels from Constantinople for me, the dear boy, and there is a huge diamond which he is having made into a hat pin for Jeremi. He couldn't be more thoughtful if he was my own son. And Michaś has been enjoying learning from him, and seeing the administration problems in a big city like Constantinople will stand him in good stead one day. Jeremi writes that the erstwhile Sultan died of a brain fever or apoplexy or something, poor child, and him much the same age as my Michaś. I suppose it comes of trying to overreach himself. There is a new Sultan named Kara Mustafa, who signed all the treaties. Though I doubt they have much shipping to permit us to search and seize slaves from, Jurij apparently met their grand fleet, which had withdrawn from fighting the Venetians. So now our fleet is much increased, even if only with galleys. I look forward to both of them returning to Warszawa. You were going somewhere?"
"Oh, I wish to apprise my king of the happy circumstances," said Gonzaga.
oOoOo
"Hello, Timofey, back like a bad three-grosz piece," said Jurko.
"You can go home now," said Timofey. "A lad named Kara Mustafa is the new sultan; the boy died in mysterious circumstances, but supposedly driven into an apoplexy by your lack of felicity of style."
"I didn't even tell him to go fuck himself; I was very diplomatic," said Jurko.
"He was a bit of a brat," said Timofey. "But he didn't deserve to die. Jeremi says someone murdered him with poison."
Jurko brooded.
He sent word for a strategic withdrawal, and asked Helena to fetch Turhan Sultan, who had been official regent for the young Sultan, until he felt his oats. Helena returned with the still attractive woman, who was of Slavic origin.
"I will not grace your bed," declared Turhan, in ringing tones.
"Damn right you won't," said Jurko. "Why would I want you when I'm married to Helena? It's insulting."
"Then why have you had me brought to you, and in private?"
"Because I have some bad news for you, and it seemed only courteous to share it," said Jurko. "Please sit down; there's a carafe of water, and I will drink some myself to show it is innocuous." He proceeded to do so. "I regret to inform you that your son, formerly Mehmet IV, is dead, and there's no way to cushion that blow."
She reeled back.
"Dead? He died in battle?"
"No; and I don't believe either that my blunt style killed him with apoplexy either," said Jurko. "I think someone killed him because someone more experienced could see that we were going to win. The throne has been seized by a Kara Mustafa. Now, I didn't think much of the way your administration failed to uncover the child brothel, but apart from that, it was efficient enough. And you need to choose whether to plot to depose Kara Mustafa as soon as he gets here, and have another claimant ready, or whether to accept the inevitable, embrace his rule, and offer to be his helpmate. I can't decide for you. I don't know if he did the poisoning, or if he is opportunistic and leaped in when another did it. But you remind me a bit of my step-mother, and you are young enough to have another son, and if Kara Mustafa is guilty, you have then the time to make sure he lives long enough for your son to grow up, whilst making sure he is always miserable and unwell. I'm sure you can manage that."
A fierce look passed over her face.
"You are correct about me; I am strong enough to play the part of loving consort whilst making sure that he pays."
"My deepest condolences for your loss," said Jurko.
"I thank you," said Turhan Sultan stiffly. "May I go?"
"You are free to do so," said Jurko. "The administration will be back in your hands from midnight, when we sail, on the understanding that we may withdraw unmolested."
"It shall be so." She hesitated. "Thank you for sparing my city from fire and rapine. Your men have been all that is courteous."
Jurko rose and bowed deeply.
"I am glad that you have no complaint of their behaviour," he said. "Farewell; and God be with you."
"And may Allah be with you."
It was, thought Jurko, a surreal situation.
But he could readily imagine Gryzelda, had Michaś been murdered, or Helena, if it had been Jaromka, making his murderer believe she had no idea, and bringing him to trust her, until she was ready, on his contrived death bed, to reveal how much she hated him, and how all his weakness and failed plans were her doing. Women with children were, reflected Jurko, the most dangerous opponents in the world.
oOoOo
Jurko hugged Michaś hard as they set off up the Bosphorus.
"What was that for?" asked Michaś. "Not that I object to knowing that you love me."
"The sultan was your age and someone poisoned him," said Jurko, bluntly. "And I could see your face lying dead, when Timofey told me. And I have set up a revenge for him, just because the poor stupid brat was as sulky and spoilt as you might have been if I hadn't stepped in to give you military discipline when Papa took me in, because he hadn't had time to do it himself, and you were sickly and all that rot. It's why we are so careful not to baby Ruryk."
"I was a bit of a brat," said Michaś. "But I'm glad you didn't let me grow up that way."
"Spoiling a child doesn't do them any favours," said Jurko.
