Chapter 18
The mother of Sultan Bayezit’s eldest living son, Ahmed, was a jealous woman.
She had borne one son, and doted upon him to the exclusion of everything else.
She was very beautiful, and she was fascinating.
She had lover’s skills unlike any other of the sultan’s kadins.
Bayezit was both repelled and fascinated by her, which was why she remained in his favor.
He knew she was involved somehow in the death of his son Mustafa, but as no proof had been forthcoming he had no excuse to either accuse her or punish her, much to the sorrow of his other kadins, who must now fear for their sons.
The woman he loved best of his kadins, Mustafa’s mother, Kiusem, had been devastated by the loss of her child, but she had also given the sultan a second child, his youngest son, a boy named Selim.
Besma was forever telling the sultan of Selim’s alleged faults and weaknesses while crying the accomplishments of her own offspring.
Besma meant for Ahmed to follow his father on the throne.
She planned to one day be Sultan Valideh, and rule through the son who ruled the empire.
She would allow nothing to stand in her way, but for all her power she had made equally powerful enemies.
The return to Turkey of Prince Amir had not pleased her at all.
Like Bayezit’s three surviving sons, this prince had a legitimate claim to the Ottoman throne, and he was a man.
When she dared to question Bayezit about it after a particularly satisfying evening in his bed, he had told her that his nephew had been expelled from Florence.
“For what reason?” She pursued the matter intently.
“What did he do that they would ask you to remove him? He cannot be very wise to have offended so greatly. He obviously grows more like his traitorous father every day. What a pity, for I know he was of great use to you there. But of course, like your brother, he thought only of himself, and not of his duty to his sultan,” Besma said.
She would not allow another rival to threaten Ahmed.
“I believe it had to do with a lady,” the sultan had told her, beginning to be irritated by her shrill tone. “He became too involved with a woman from an important family, and they objected.”
“The Florentines are as debauched as Romans,” Besma responded, parroting what she had heard from harem gossip.
“I do not believe your nephew was banished for his involvement with a woman. I think he is in league with the di Medici family, and means to have your throne with their aid. If not now, one day in the future. He plans to supplant your sons, my lord. We are all in danger from this prince. He is worse than his father, for he pretends loyalty and friendship. At least Prince Jem is honest in his desire to be sultan,” the kadin Besma said.
Her words disturbed Bayezit, but try as he might he could find no fault with his nephew.
The sultan had given Amir the opportunity to throw in with his father by sending him to Rhodes, but Amir had shown not the slightest disloyalty.
Captain Mahmud had reported his nephew’s every move.
The sultan even had several spies in his brother’s house, thanks to his Agha Kislar.
They had confirmed Amir’s strict allegiance to the sultan alone and his anger that his father could not be made to see reason.
Bayezit was absolutely convinced that his nephew was faithful.
“Amir has no desire to rule,” he told his kadin. “Of that I am certain.”
“How certain will you be when he slays your sons, my lord? You must act now to prevent such a tragedy, such a miscarriage of justice,” the kadin Besma insisted.
“Woman! You are a viper at my breast,” the sultan accused her.
“I will hear no more of this foolishness you prattle. The day is coming when I will have you sewn into a silk bag weighed down with stones, and order it sent to the bottom of the sea!” And he sent her from his bed.
Her amorous skills were not worth listening to the constant stream of vitriol that poured forth from her mouth.
He was no fool, and understood that her interest in Amir was not for him.
It was for her son, Ahmed, whom she hoped would succeed him.
She would do whatever she had to do to keep the path to his throne clear for her child.
After his eldest son’s untimely death, he thought Ahmed might one day be worthy, but Besma had spoiled his second son for such responsibility by indulging him in numerous vices that left him self-indulgent and lacking in self-discipline.
His third son, Korkut, offspring of kadin Safiye, was a serious scholar and not the least bit interested in ruling.
He was a young man who was monastic in all things, living simply and always surrounded by books.
It was Bayezit’s youngest son, Selim, for whom the sultan had high hopes.
Even now the boy governed the province delegated to him with a sure hand, and scrupulous attention to the law, which pleased Bayezit most of all.
He knew that eventually Besma would seek to remove Selim, as she was rumored to have removed his brother.
For now, however, she had fixated all her attention upon his brother Jem’s son.
He was sultan, and yet he was helpless to curtail her ambition.
Short of having her strangled and sewn into a silk sack to be dropped into the Bosphorus, as he had previously threatened her, he must rely upon his Agha Kislar to keep Besma in check and Prince Amir safe.
A snort of laughter escaped him. The world believed him to be all-powerful, invincible.
Any man who truly believed he was such was a fool, and deserved whatever he got from life, Bayezit thought wryly.
The visit paid to Hadji Bey by Diya al Din, and the subsequent information he had received from the spies he had in kadin Besma’s household, had alerted the Agha Kislar to the need to protect Prince Amir and his household.
It would not be easy, for women like Besma, who believed they were protecting their children, were like wild beasts.
The Agha knew what needed to be done. First, however, he must convince the sultan that it was the best course to take.
Prince Amir must leave Turkey again, and this time he could not return.
His exile must be permanent. But where was he to go?
That would be the largest problem they had to face.
Could he remain within the sultan’s purview?
Or would he have to return to Western Europe?
I must investigate further and think on it, the Agha said to himself.
The problem with Western Europe was that Amir could not take all three of his wives with him.
And if he went alone, or took the wife of his heart that Diya al Din had spoken of, what would happen to the other two?
Their families would eventually learn of it, and be insulted.
They might join forces with the sultan’s enemies.
And while not in love with his first and second wives, Prince Amir was fond of them.
An equitable man, he would not cast them off or leave them again.
Florence, Rome, and Venice were all out of the question.
France was no better. And beyond France?
England. But the English were engaged in a civil war among their kings right now.
It was hardly a safe place for an Ottoman prince with three wives.
It was also unlikely that the English would allow such a guest to take up permanent residence in their realm, even if the sultan paid for his nephew’s refuge and peace.
Was there a place within his master’s realm for an Ottoman prince with a direct and strong claim to the throne?
Some unimportant and distant location where they might secrete and settle Prince Amir and his family in safety?
Some area that would not draw kadin Besma’s notice?
What nameless and obscure locale was available to them for a man who had no desire to rule but simply wished to live quietly with his wives and child? And then it came to him.
El Dinut! A small fiefdom on the North African coast whose current ruler, the dey, had actually been a friend and companion of the Conqueror himself.
Loyal to Bayezit, he would, if asked by the sultan, give discreet sanctuary to Prince Amir and his family.
It was unlikely that kadin Besma would ever know what had happened to the prince once he was gone, and they would see that something else took her attention, thus diverting her from further mischief.
Yes! El Dinut was certainly the answer to their problems. Its climate was agreeable and Prince Amir would be able to conduct his small trading venture from one of its easily accessible harbors.
There would, of course, have to be a slight change in Prince Amir’s identity for extra security.
His title would no longer be used. He would become simply Amir ibn Mehmet, a well-to-do merchant.
Hadji Bey spoke with the sultan, outlining his plan.
The sultan approved, and gave his Agha Kislar permission to write to the dey of El Dinut in the sultan’s name.
The letter was sent by a single messenger who traveled quickly, returning two months later with the dey’s answer.
Haroun al Hakim, dey of El Dinut, would welcome Prince Amir gladly, he wrote.
He remembered his old friend Sultan Mehmet speaking fondly of this particular grandson.
And he would see that the presence of Prince Amir and his family was kept discreet.
Hadji Bey shared this news with the sultan, who now reluctantly agreed it was time for his nephew to go.