The Sultan’s throne room had a rather wide hall compared to the mansion of his city’s Sanjak-Bey. Fool, though Baybur called himself. The difference of a word was larger than the amount of letters it represented, of course. But without comparing, he couldn’t comprehend the size of the whole palace, as when put together Baybur could estimate the manor of the Sanjak-bey would cover but one tenth of the overall area. Quite large, simply, he added and his gaze traveled in the hall.

Now all Pashas, Aghas, and the few Sanjak-Beys from the neighbouring provinces seated themselves on the two long tables. Baybur realized now that these weren’t only two long tables, it would be abrupt, else, as it would be too hard to carry in and out of the room. In reality they were made of twelve smaller tables, but the silver-white gold-ornamented covers were a single whole, so the confusion seemed acceptable. Other than that, the chairs brought over were luxurious too, as far as the appearance went. They had fine curves carved on the armchairs lining towards the head parts, converging into the roots of a lily spreading its petals. There were small pillow-like cushions placed, or strapped, as he didn’t sit on one to feel, to soften the seat and relax both the back and the arse.

Moving from the chairs, up on the tables’ covers stood plates of polished silver and mugs of sparkling ceramic. Spoons laid beside them, and small forks which the ottoman cuisine was still trying to get used to. Even then, most meals included either steak and beef and soup, or broth to be specific, so the use of hands and only a spoon was the general way of eating. But Murat The Second’s reign also saw some changes in that part, together with slight improvements at Edirne’s small shipyard by the riverside and relations with the west. Is the latter an improvement though...it could be, if the eventual aim was to have them the enemy. It seemed so at the moment, too, if one observed the young Sultan’s moves carefully.

Thinking of Sultan, Baybur moved his gaze from the conversing gathering to the smiling Sultan Mehmed The Second. He was, as his name indicated, the second Sultan to be named Mehmed, with the first being Mehmed Chelebi, the father of the late Sultan, who pulled the state from a dangerous state of interregnum after the defeat of his father under the hands of Timur of Timurids. Father of a father of a father- how long does the list goes? At least two centuries, Ottomans weren’t rulers for most of the time, they had been nomads like their brethren coming from the east and settled under the rule of the Seljuk Turks near the northwestern Anatolia. Their lines, as a result, weren’t that extensive.

Perhaps that was the reason Sultan Mehmed seemed eager and ambitious. The future wasn’t set yet, and so did the fate of the Byzantine and Constantinople, and Sultan’s own destiny. Almost all muslim rulers dreamed of stomping on the streets of Constantinople, none succeeded, and being the first one to do so meant great honor, great prestige, and more so a fame that could last a milennia. Like that of the romans. Baybur could tell how optimistic the Sultan was from the bright smile on his face, hiding his teeth with the tannish lips. Even though his long nose seemed to slope down and come between his wide smile, it didn’t reach quite yet. But the length was impressive, nonetheless.

Voices of the surroundings boomed in his ears once more, Baybur realized as more than fifty mouths spoke at the same time, pointing to the arrival of the servants with the meals. Indeed, even before Baybur saw the fluttering gowns of the servants the fresh smell of broth slipped into the hall. Caner seated below him opened his eyes from dizziness and looked up, a glint passed through his pupils before he turned to gaze at Baybur again.

‘’Still not seated?’’

‘’No, I’m sitting, don’t you see?’’ Baybur pointed at his feet, then he made a motion as if trying to sit on thin air. He actually looked like sitting for a moment or two before he lost balance and fell.

‘’Pfft-’’ Caner snorted, a few weird glances flew over to their position. They both coughed and sat, in Baybur’s case stood, straight before looking at each other again. ‘’Still,’’ Caner said, scratching his taqiyah, ‘’I saw Sultan sneaking peeks at you quite a few times, and Valide Sultan too. She seems concerned.’’

‘’It might look bad on their part,’’ Baybur said, propping his chin to look at Arzu on their left. Her eyes were glued to the plates approaching their table. ‘’To not even properly count the visitors. It might be because of me, or Çetin Pasha’s daughter, but it's probably going to be regarded in my name.’’

‘’Then you should have taken the seat, at least you would have shifted the blame.’’

‘’First, it would look worse on the Sultan. Second, it would still affect me. How could I, a small yerliyya, take a seat from a noblewomen? Especially Çetin Pasha’s daughter!’’

‘’My daughter? So you gave her your place because she is my flesh?’’ A voice interrupted their speech. Baybur and Caner felt their scalps tingle for a moment, then rotated their heads to look at Hikmet and Çetin Pasha gazing at them. They looked amused. ‘’And I thought you were a gentleman.’’

‘’Baybur is-’’ Hikmet said, smiling, ‘’Only to his sister, though. Were it not for his Janissary code, I suppose it would be different.’’

Baybur’s face flamed hot at the comments, then paled into a shade of grey. ‘’I live for the hearth, so I act according to its rules as well, my Pasha. I’m sorry for causing a little misunderstanding.’’

Baybur felt a hand pinch his palm from the hack, he looked over his shoulder. He saw Arzu retreating her jade-like hand to place on her thighs again, smiling calmly to herself, but the pain was still there. His eyes lost their luster for a second, then regained their color. This time, however, he saw a glint pass through both men’s eyes at the same time. They had realized it. Baybur’s heart churned.

‘’Don’t apologize, I am only jesting little hero,’’ Çetin Pasha said after a moment of thought, turning his head to nod at a servant who brought the broths and roasted lambs. ‘’Not many shows kindness to my daughter, even with ulterior moves, which you lack.’’

‘’Can you get a seat for this young man, please, and a stool as well?’’ He asked a servant, who hurriedly nodded and rushed with wide steps back to the Palace’s inner sections. Another pair of servants continued to place the meals in and between, the juice of the lamb and drops of broth’s soup spilled on the table, their smells were overbearingly enticing. Whether they were intentional or not, Baybur didn’t know, but they managed to intensify his not-so-big hunger. Another servant followed behind the both, he had quite muscular arms that didn’t fit his cloth and carried a jug almost three quarters of his size, pouring milky-white ayran to the empty mugs.

Although the speed they delivered the food could be described as storming through, gulps and licked lips of the many showed how slow it felt to the receivers. Their anticipation didn’t last long, as fifteen seconds later everyone left except a late-comer who brought over a small table and chair duo for Baybur. He set them right behind Caner, Arzu, Hikmet, and Çetin Pasha’s seating places and another one put the meals. Pashas and aghas cast amused, weird glances while Sultan Mehmed had a slight frown on his face. As the last plate was about to be placed, Sultan suddenly spoke.

‘’Bring it here!’’

His voice boomed inside the hall and the merry air froze for a moment, Baybur’s eyes widened. The servant trembled, then looked at his Sultan in confusion. He didn’t seem to understand the order.

‘’Bring his table here, let him seat with me.’’ Sultan Mehmed said, then the frozen air burst into an uproar. Baybur, likewise, gave a deep bow.

‘’My Sultan, that is too high of an honor for me,’’ Baybur’s voice bordered near a shout, ‘’And blatant disregard to my own hearth’s Agha.’’

‘’What!?’’ Ali Bey exclaimed, beside him Umeyyet Agha shot a glare at Baybur. There were six more people, five of them unsurprisingly Sanjak-Beys and the last one being Ensar Pasha, who pointed at him with their fingers and opened their mouths to talk.

‘’You dare not follow Sultan’s orders!?’’ Muzaffer Agha shouted at Baybur before any other could voice their opinion, a soft smile appeared on Sultan Mehmed’s face. ‘’You make me feel ashamed, Baybur. Hurry and comply!’’

Baybur stood there, dazed, and watched people looking at him. Of the whole hall, almost half looked at him with wide smiles, a small portion with glares, and the remaining few with interest. Ali Bey and Umeyyet Agha’s gazes Baybur engraved in his heart and Akram’s raised brow he threw back into his mind. Then he smiled in his heart.

It is no surprise that Sultan has intended for this, He thought and moved behind the servant carrying the table, while he himself held the chair. They came right beside the Sultan, stopped one stair lower and placed the table and the chair. The food, however careful they were, still spilled a bit but no one commented on that. Baybur put his hand over his left chest and gave a bow to Sultan, then to Muzaffer Agha. At last he sat and started waiting for Sultan to sweep his mighty gaze over the crowd.

An awkward and choking, latter mostly for those that tried to rebuke, descended to the room. The broths and roasted lambs and steaks continued to steam and give tasty smells of their warm texture, the oily juice seeped on the plates gleaming surfaces. A small wind swayed the golden chandeliers back and forth, causing them to squeak soft. Çetin Pasha and Hikmet coughed at the same time, they both suffered from chronic coughs, so it didn’t garner any special attention. Baybur, however, felt everyone’s gazes descend on him. Their eyes flashed with anger, greed, interest, two with amusement, one with an intent of relief, and other pure curiosity.

Baybur looked into the sparkling stars under the dark divine rods of brows, his own stars seemed to brighten under their influence like the surface of a moon in the night. For that moment, when two stars met in the empty darkness of the space from billions of years away, yet also infinitely close to collapse into a debris of meteorite, Baybur felt his heart shake once more. The lights of their stars weren’t the kind to reach out to others. They just happened to be near, together, at a specific place at a specific time, and their lights were not conflicting enough to merge. They couldn’t fuse, nor could they reach an agreement on which light would dominate that dark space.

For now, they had no relation other than that of two distant stars, gazing at each other in wonder.

‘’Bismillahirrahmanirrahim!’’ Sultan Mehmed’s voice pulled Baybur from the starfields down to earth, back to the table and under the eyes of the crowd. Everyone in his view of sight had raised their hands to a prayer and repeated after Sultan Mehmed. ‘’May Allah give our meal his blessings, may each bite we take remind us of his greatness, and give felicity to our lives. Before this, here, and after this meal, may Allah give compassion and treat us with compassion, and may Allah do so to all brothers of Islam around the world.’’

‘’Amin!’’

‘’Amin!’’

‘’Amin!’’

‘’Amin!’’

‘’Ami...’’

Everyone chanted at the same time, the soundwaves turned into a tidal wave that rebounded in the palace until the roar died off. ‘’Please, go on.’’ Sultan Mehmed said, raised his spoon, then took a spoonful of broth to his mouth.

People continued after him and soon all noise remained was the clattering of plates and spoons and furious chewing. It was frowned upon to talk while eating, more so laughing, and even frowning. And even if it wasn’t as such, and they had the chance to freely talk and laugh, with the oppressing aura encasing the throne room from Sultan’s gaze no one would even consider attempting it. One wrong move and their status would fall behind even the lowly yerliyya.

That was what instinct told.

*********

After the few remaining servants came back to pick up the empty plates and dirtied dishes, another contingent followed inside and brought some desserts to eat, mainly Baklava. They were put on each table with the exception of Sultana and Valide Sultan’s, who both left after a moment of consideration from Sultan Mehmed’s part. They departed after giving a bow and wishing a good meal, then disappeared from sight into one of the backrooms of the throne room.

‘’Now that our bellies are full and our tongues are satisfied,’’ Sultan said, ‘’Let us talk about important matters of the realm.’’ He clapped twice and the remaining servants scurried off to back rooms again. Now everyone left in the hall were high-ranked officials of the Sultanate, except Baybur’s entourage of two Danishmends and one Yerliyya. Baybur felt a headache from all the stares he got, but what made him most irritated was the lack of attention to Caner and Hikmet. His table didn’t help the difference, though.

‘’The gathering of Diwan yesterday was not fruitful and there were no concrete solutions to the aggressions of the other nations,’’ Sultan Mehmed said, ‘’Ever since my dear father’s death, the Hungarians harassed our Serbian vassal’s borders and raided our villages.’’

‘’These would be simple matters of diplomatic interest to solve, I hoped, but it seems many wish to escalate this matter into something entirely different and violent,’’ His eyes swept the crowd, then landed on Baybur. ‘’I am more than happy to see some subjects thinking the same as me and proving their fealty.’’

‘’Muzaffer Agha,’’ Sultan Mehmed called, ‘’There is no need to consult the viziers and the grand vizier, I take Yerliyya Baybur from your hearth and take him as my palace guard among the others. Do you have any disagreements?’’

‘’I dare not, it is his good fortune granted by Allah to serve under you directly!’’

‘’Good!’’ Sultan Mehmed cast a slight smile, Baybur shot to his feet, put his hand over his left chest, and bowed. ‘’Sit, even with your promotion out of the way there is a task for you.’’

‘’Now,’’ He said, plucking a scroll from inside his wide gown, ‘’The Karamanids seem to question, even underestimate the authority of my rulership, and are brazen enough to rise against me. I do understand the worries of his, ‘’Sultan’s eyes narrowed for a moment, ‘’or yours,’’ Then turned back into a smile, ‘’But to be doubting me, my father’s legacy, and my ancestor’s inheritance, the divine rulership, is not something I’m going to look over on a whim.’’

‘’Say, Ali bey,’’ Sultan turned to look at the Sanjak-Bey sitting near Umeyyet Agha and a few other Sanjak-Beys, their frozen hands clutching the sides of the baklava in the air.’’Isn’t it the right course of action to do so? If this isn’t a rebellion, then what is?’’

‘’It indeed is, my Sultan!’’ Ali Bey dropped the baklava to the plate, it scrambled into pieces of grained walnut and flakes. A hint of pity passed through his eyes.

‘’Then say so in open instead of covering behind your lover and talking matters of the realm in bed,’’ Sultan smiled.

‘’...I-I will do so...’’ Ali bey muttered, a tinge of red over his cheeks and forehead.

‘’Since Ali Bey finds it also right,’’ Sultan said, ‘’No others have doubts I assume?’’

‘’None, my sultan!’’ Muzaffer Agha patted his chest.

‘’Shall I lead a thousand of our raiders to East Anatolia, My Sultan?’’ Ensar Pasha asked with vigor, standing up and raising his fist. ‘’I can crush those disorderly rebellious bastards to a pulp in a matter of four hours.’’

‘’I hope that does not include the travel time, hahaha!’’ Çetin pasha laughed, turning to look at Sultan Mehmed. ‘’My Sultan, it is the best to lead armies yourself, rather than leaving it to these hot-blooded old men. The people need to see a verdant tree, not one with withering leaves.’’

‘’I am of the same opinion,’’ Umeyyet Agha said, clasping his hands together to rub them. ‘’My Sultan needs to act fast, decisive, and show them who they serve. No servant garners more respect than their master.’’

‘’My Sultan...’’

A few more voices of agreement later, Sultan nodded to the Aghas and Pashas. It escaped no one’s notice that Sanjak-Beys didn’t voice their opinions, but it didn’t matter much at this point. Baybur turned his head to look at the Sanjak-Beys. They seemed uninterested.

‘’Then all left to be done is to get promises,’’ Sultan Mehmed spoke again. ‘’Since I will be absent for even a short while, it is necessary to ensure the safety of our western borders. So I have picked three of you to lead a diplomatic group to three places; Hungary, Genoa, Venice.’’

‘’Ensar Pasha, Hungarians know of you more than our people know, and your soldiers are most acquainted with the region itself. You will take my message to King Ladislaus The Fifth and negotiate a non-aggression. Pick four followers, I’ll provide twenty men to your entourage and two translators.’’

‘’Consider it done, My Sultan.’’ Ensar Pasha bowed and took a seat.

‘’Salih Pasha,’’ Sultan called out once more, ‘’Your destination is Genoa! Take my letter to Campofregoso Pietro, and a gift that I will deliver as well. I’ll also provide a translator and ten men, and you can pick three men as well for your voyage.’’

‘’As you command, My Sultan.’’ Salih Pasha stood out a few steps left to Caner’s position, he also gave a bow and sat. He had a thoughtful expression the whole time.

‘’Çetin Pasha, at the last,’’ Sultan smiled, ‘’ I’ll entrust you to go to Venice and deliver my message to Doge Foscari. He had shown admiration of you in the distant past as my father calls it, so I expect you to have a smoother trip. I’ll assign a translator and an entourage of ten men,’’ At here he pointed at Baybur,’’ He will be leading, and’’ Then retracted his arm to rest his chin. ‘’I’ll deliver the gifts for you to take alongside the ship.’’

‘’As you wish, My Sultan,’’ Çetin Pasha stood up and put his hand over his left chest, giving a slight bow, then sat on his chair with a puff. ‘’See, Hikmet, I said I wouldn’t be here for long.’’

‘’You did, hahah,’’ Danishmend Hikmet gave a slight titter and went silent like all others, concentrating the gazes on Sultan Mehmed.

‘’This is all,’’ Sultan Mehmed declared, then clapped twice. ‘’Then let us relax and listen, my subjects,’’ His eyes glazed over Hikmet and Caner, who both stood up and grasped their instruments. ‘’Pull your chair close to mine, I want to listen from near.’’

They did as instructed, put their chairs right below the stairs and patted their instruments. Their motions were perfectly synced as their hands grazed the tubes, let dry coughs to assess their voice, and blew into the reed flutes to see the dust.

Then as Sultan’s words fell silent, their souls began to speak.

Two reeds voice fused into one silent whistle, into a bird flying over the chandeliers and near the stained glasses. The bird of voice glided down into the ears and split into loud, rising tones of the reed flutes in the ears of the crowd. Shoulders relaxed, frowns easened, deep breaths were taken...

The teacher and the student’s difference didn’t seem any apparent to anyone. As if they were the same, as if there was only a single man pretending to be two, or two that were separated from one. That single or two-sectional souls could only diverge or condense into two and one with only voice. With the sound, with the instrument, with the blowing mouth.

‘’Only listen,’’ Sultan’s voice appeared behind Baybur’s ears, he flinched but didn’t turn around. ‘’I’ve looked into you twice, first after you saved my life, second when you were on your way here.’’ His voice was too low for anyone to hear beside the music’s overbearing presence. But Baybur, and the Sultan, were people who didn’t seem to find any connection with the soul of the Danishmends. They could still process words and converse, and could ignore the battering waves of melancholic tunes from prying their memories open. Baybur had been so since he joined the hearth, but he didn’t know since when Sultan was like him, too.

‘’I do feel conflicted about your past,’’ Sultan Mehmed said, Baybur thought of how he talked without making his conversation apparent to the few uninterested fellows’ curious eyes. ‘’And your aim, Baybur. I am not one to tolerate any danger to my rule,’’ He warned, ‘’But I do not care about what happens after me. Whether my reign will last until I die, or I will die before it lasts more than a decade, I do not believe you will pose any threat to the throne in my lifetime.’’

‘’Even though it seems that is your intention, Hikmet said you were a genius, a clever man, and I hope you understand what that praise means for me. I say this not as Mehmed, but as Sultan Mehmed.’’

Baybur felt his heart stir, he clenched his hand into a fist. He wanted to answer, but the fear of being spotted made him unable to rebuke. Should he voice his opposition, still, even if people noticed? No, that would be detrimental to both of them, more so to Baybur. Him being suspected of a spy or a mole in the Hearth would lower the already unfavorable opinions of the Sultan among the landholders and Pashas. The janissaries suppressed in late Sultan’s reign were also waiting to see what kind of ruler they had right now, and him ruining the Sultan Mehmed’s still-in-construction image would result only in his downfall.

Who knew whether he would be among those that were put on spikes?

‘’You do know, Hikmet knows, that trader beside Muzaffer knows, everyone that saw me grow and sit on this throne knows my desire. Even that Halil Pasha!’’ Baybur heard the Sultan gnash his teeth. ‘’I will prove myself, conquer that city, then hang that damned man on a lone tree for his body to rot. But you-’’

‘’-You, Baybur, can’t do anything before that happens. I won’t allow it, and if you do, I won’t let those small, new, Hashashis you feed with that Danishmend live. They won’t go beyond their teens.’’

Baybur froze.

‘’I’ll protect your sister, too,’’ Sultan added after a while, when the song in the background rose like waves again. ‘’All I want is a state of tranquility until I get that city, the head of that Chandarlı Halil, and write my name in history.’’

‘’Do.You.Understand?’’

A horrifying silence descended on both for a moment. Baybur’s fingers twitched, his heartbeat fastened. His eyes searched a refuge, swimming from one side to another in the sea of music and thoughts.

His gaze met with Arzu’s, then his heart felt a mountain of ice drop over it. Their stars shone off each other for that single instant, Baybur calmed down.

Baybur plucked the untouched baklava from his plate and took a bite, nodding as if he loved the taste.

‘’Good...then continue to listen.’’ Sultan finished and no longer spoke. Baybur continued to chew on the baklava, yet his eyes still focused on Arzu’s gaze. And her’s on him.

He didn’t see Çetin Pasha look at him with a troubled smile.

*********

After the Danishmends finished their performance and Sultan told a few farewell and congratulatory words, he went back into his palace and the gates opened. People flocked the hall and left towards their carriages in absentminded hurriness, no gaze met each other except the accidental change of their point of view.

Baybur climbed the carriage together with Caner and Hikmet, sat beside the window and gazed outside. The carriage from here had a perfect view of Çetin Pasha’s vehicle and its window, alongside its interior. Baybur couldn’t help but focus on the figure stepping inside the carriage from the other side.

Her hands grasped the railings and she put her feet down in a calm manner, Baybur observed. Then she approached the side and sat next to the window, then turned her eyes to gaze at him.

Two stars met again and this time, there was the hint of warmth between the collisions of light.

Her tranquil face broke into a slight smile, then suddenly turned back to look, only to see Çetin Pasha standing at the door, talking with someone. Baybur didn’t quite see who, but it seemed like Arzu relaxed at the notion and faced him again. She smiled again.

Baybur couldn’t resist the urge, he also smiled. If their eyes were celestial stars greeting each other, then their curved lips were the planets around them waving at each other. From one planet to another, the stars would be seen without obstruction.

‘’DEH!’’ A yell sounded from the front and the horses pulling the carriage spurred forth with a tremor. Baybur’s eyes widened a bit, he quickly peeked at the front and saw they started to move. His head moved backward to see Arzu still smiling, her lips parted from afar as if to say something, but in the end no voice reached. Baybur couldn’t read what she said as they pulled apart from each other.

Baybur reached out with his hand to the ceiling of the carriage and he held tight, then took his body half-out of the window to look back. She was looking at his way, her eyebrows raised in slight astoundment before sloping down again. Baybur opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out as well. He stood there, half-dangling and watching under the winds striking his face, looking at the palace and her silhouette recede into the far, blurry landscape until no one could be distinguished from each other.

Baybur pulled himself back into the carriage at last, the cold wind stopped scratching his face. When seated, he snuck a peek at Caner to see him smiling wide. His teacher, Hikmet, also half-pried his eyes open to gaze at him with amusement.

Baybur felt his heart skip a beat.

Not much later they passed through the palace’s surroundings and entered the commercial area again, yells for sells and haggling pedestrian’s voices dominated the ears. Footsteps rang louder than even that, even though the street wasn’t even that wide to allow people flock like birds. They passed with ease through the street and stopped in front of the tavern Baybur and Caner rented. Both bid farewell to the frowning Hikmet, who questioned why they didn’t stay at his place, which they didn’t reply well. After the carriage departed with the escort of two mounted Sipahis they stepped inside the tavern.

The owner welcomed them again and led them to their room himself, climbing the stairs and opening a locked room at the leftmost side near the open balcony. The sun still had at most an hour until it dove down and moon swam up, so they chose to rest for some more time before going down. The owner informed there would be a scientist from the city of Baghdad and a poet who traveled with him from Alexandria after sunset. They would give some kind of a lecture-discussion thing to the available patrons who ate their meals in the meantime, so they were free to attend. If they bought a meal, of course.

Throwing that back to his mind, Baybur followed behind Caner and stepped inside the room. They had two separate beds, one placed under the open window the other strapped to the wall at the side. There was a wardrobe leaning to the walls between them, owner told them they were free to store anything they wanted, and a small chest beside it for the same use. There was also a small and round ground table at the center with three cushions placed around it.

While Caner moved to sit on one of the cushions to inspect his reed flute, Baybur went for the chest and opened it. His small baggage of clothes were still in. He clutched it and unraveled the tie around the baggage, a wood-inscribed hilt appeared between the folded shirts, Baybur pulled it.

His yatagan appeared alongside its sheath, Baybur sighed and put it back. He turned around to swipe his gaze through the room once more. Everything looked normal, except the slight red beams of sunlight sneaking from the window. It is already sunset? Baybur raised a brow and walked forth, came beside the window and grasped the sides to lean forward.

A slight breeze fumbled his hair back and forced him to blink, then he looked forward.

The Sun seemed indignant about leaving its place to the shrewd moon once more, so much that the red on its round body increased to an braggable amount. There were no mountains near to shield the moon from the onslaught of the sun, so there were no dark curtains enveloping the city. Only red and a trace of aquamarine sky beyond the horizon.

Baybur felt the wind turn a tad bit warmer at the sight, but a deep cold sprang from his heart while thinking.

Stars, stars, stars- Baybur clenched his hands, the wood crumbled and fine cracks appeared on the beams connecting the windows.

How can I fall in love?

*********

In the main road of the town, a cheering crowd of hundreds of men and women sent yells and waved their fists in the air at the regiments of soldiers passing through.

These soldiers had bows strapped to their red cloaks and hung on the side of their belt were swords with curved ends. Under their clothes and baggy trousers the clanks and clings of mail armor could be heard with each of their rumbling steps, whilst the slight breeze in the air picked up their white headset sloping down to their waist.

Flanking the famed Janissaries were cavalry raiders, donning brownish chainmail and clutching lances in their grasps, and further down the ranks at the forefront was a man in extravagant armor. His size could be considered gigantic, and to suit his towering size even his horse was a notch bulkier than others. A mace almost as tall as three quarters of a man placed in his grip, he led the small part of the Ottoman army through the town.

He was called Rumeli Beylerbeyi, the single man above all Pashas, Aghas, Sanjak-Beys, whom all reported to him and was in his command, and in turn he was the next-highest person beside the Grand Vizier and the Sultan. There were only two who equaled him in rank, Rum Beylerbeyi and Anatolia Beylerbeyi. Together these three controlled the greatest provinces of the land under Sultan’s rule and in the case of a call to arms, they were the first to be answered before the Sultan.

Baybur’s disappointment couldn’t be described at these prospects’ reality. Was a man who almost equaled the king just a brute with fancy armor? Was he really a sole man in the lead of a army and nothing else? And the soldiers following behind him: Delis, Azabs, Janissaries; and far in front of him that passed not long ago through the streets: Derbendjis, Cebecis, of whom some still sprinkled around in the army passing through here, and pilgrim surgeons from hebrew and muslim descent.

Honestly, Baybur thought, were it not for the Mehter March blasting his ears he couldn’t imagine how...dead these expressions were. Who were these? They weren’t the Turkish soldiers that befell on the Prince Lazar three decades ago. They weren’t the soldiers who fought with Lazar’s son, King Stefan in the Crusade of Nicopolis, and routed the crusaders’ armies. They were walking corpses with indifferent expressions, waving their weapons and tingling their armors as they went.

They were an eyesore, to say the least.

Baybur quietly turned his head, coiled his hands around his father’s head above his shoulders, and slightly pinched to get his attention. He knew he couldn’t hear quite good in this commotion of noises.

‘’Alexander?’’ His father, Cain, asked. His eyes slanted upward to look in the eyes of his soon, then chuckled. ‘’You too? I’m also bored,’’ He said, ‘’Should we go back?’’

Baybur didn’t hear quite right but understood what his father meant, he nodded. ‘’Move out, please, one second!’’ Baybur started shouting to the crowd of cheering puppets, they parted ways while casting smiles and giggles at him. Soon they were out of the encirclement and the noises started tuning down a tad bit, though not enough to completely disappear. ‘’Want to get down?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Baybur patted his father’s shoulders, he crouched down to let Baybur down. Baybur climbed down and rubbed the slight dirty mark of his sandals on his father’s back, then patted once more.

‘’Thank you,’’ Cain smiled, ‘’Want to head back home?’’

‘’No,’’ Baybur said, looking down at his bandaged hand. ‘’I want to show this to Caner and his big brother.’’

‘’To warn them?’’

‘’To brag,’’ Baybur laughed, then gave a quick hug to his father. ‘’I’ll be back soon, don’t miss me fast!’’ He said and sprang into a flurry of steps that turned into a sprint. He took a peek back to see his father already turning back to the square, a deep frown splattered on his face.

Liar- Baybur stuck out a tongue at his back, then sped off.

He rounded the streets through the square’s alleys and approached a small sized cottage next to the stone chapel of the town. Although the house seemed older than the chapel, the latter had existed for half a century here owing to its stable foundations and superb exterior. There were seven stone beams thicker than three adults’ thighs, which turned out to be towers from up close, and behind these towers were half-domes rising from the center. Stained glasses, a favorite of many Christian architects both Orthodox and Catholic, covered the windows of the attic and the basement. In comparison, Caner’s house paled like a fish taken out of water.

After gazing at the structure for some time, Baybur approached the doors of the cottage and knocked twice. A few rustlings sounded, then the sweet voice of a woman. ‘’Who is it?’’ She called, yet without waiting for an answer opened the door. As her voice might give away, he looked only around nineteen to twenty, and had raven black hair with a skin slightly paler than that, showing her arabic-turkish mix descent. There were many like her, or families like theirs, yet almost all were pureblood Turkmens, as the Sultanate called. That could be the reason his family got along better with them, since a huge divide between the Turkish and Serbian ancestral families appeared not long after the conquest of the region, and their mixed descent made their relationship’s dynamic quite weird.

He was happy with that, at least.

‘’Alexander, welcome!’’ She spoke, though her accent and words were quite slurry. But Baybur didn’t comment on that. After all, only Caner was fluent in Serbian and English apart from Turkish. His sister was working hard enough to learn, which some others should have taken a lesson, Baybur thought.

‘’Hello sister,’’ He said, waving his hands at the veiled woman. ‘’Is Caner here?’’

‘’Caner out-’’ She said, then exclaimed and pointed at his back. ‘’He came, seeing?’’

Baybur followed her finger and saw Caner trodding towards their house between two men twice his size. One was his brother, a man almost as tall as the Beylerbey from before and the other was his teacher form Anatolia, Hikmet. Hikmet looked around his middle-ages with very few strands of grey in his hair. But he was known to be a great Danishmend of old age- or a person involved in art, and was the person who taught Caner both languages.

‘’Alexander!’’ Caner saw him from afar, stopping for a second before rushing. Hikmet and Caner’s brother smiled and waved at him as well, Baybur responded the same. Caner came beside him in the meantime and reached out for his wounded hand, took it in his grasp. His eyes shrunk then largened, ‘’Oooh-’’ he looked charmed.

‘’It looks painful!’’ He commented.

‘’It is-’’ Baybur nodded, retracting his hand. ‘’I almost cried when I burnt it.’’

‘’Liar! Brother said your tears had turned into a lake from pain.’’

‘’Your brother is the liar!’’ Baybur refuted, waving his hand in front of Caner. ‘’Touch, it doesn’t hurt at all.’’

‘’Let me see-’’ Caner said and stabbed with his finger to Baybur’s wounded palm. Just as it was going to come into contact, a robust hand came between and squeezed Caner’s finger. ‘’Ow!’’ Caner retreated, yelping, and tripped on his heels. Hikmet caught him from behind to not let him fall, which revealed the interrupter to be his brother.

‘’You call me a liar? Stinky mouth!’’

‘’You are stinky mouth, lets speak again in ten years! I’ll see who is taller then.’’

‘’You’ll do, Caner,’’ Hikmet whispered, then raised the boy from his embrace and dropped on the ground. ‘’Now go play with Alexander, we’ll prepare the breakfast in the meantime.’’

‘’Okay!’’ Caner’s mood took a revolution and a smile crept up to his face. ‘’Alexander, come, let’s go to the hill.’’ He called and started running. Baybur laughed and followed behind him, yet didn’t forget to sneak a peek behind this time as well.

He saw Caner’s teacher, brother, and sister all watching their depart with wide, warm smiles. Baybur, although his body moved, couldn’t control his mind and froze for a second. Their figures faded into blurs not long after, yet they were still looking their way, and Baybur felt the affectionate intents on him still. He had goosebumps all over his body and felt something creep his spine to his scalp. In fear he turned and didn’t look back before running off, trying to catch up to the Caner.

*********

Their small game of chase didn’t last long, at most two or three minutes before the lean slope leading to the hill’s top came into view. The hill wasn’t out of the city by much and roads from other towns and villages integrated into one before the intersection near the hill. This meant they had a great view of the surrounding landscape, mostly consisting of lush green plains and the hazy silhouette of the flowing Great Morava to the southeast, though it only looked like a thin blue line on the horizon.

They climbed quick with their roughened feets and hands, sometimes plucking random boulders and sides of the trees to push themselves further. There weren’t more trees than a few dozen, so their sight didn’t suffer from any blindspots or so. With their breaths roughening, as their nine-year-old physiques couldn’t handle the burden of a long sprint, and dust being kicked from their now shallowing steps, they reached the top and let out deep breaths.

‘’Hooo!’’

‘’Hoooo!’’

They took deep breaths, then walked to the steep edge of the greenish hill facing the roads. Other than the pathways known to them and the stomped grass of the plain, now there was a moving giant of thousands of men marching forward. The flowing sea of red and white seemed as mighty from afar as they did from up close. Even their footsteps, Baybur plopped down on the soft grass and listened closely, rumbled like a slumbering oxen.

Caner yawned, rubbing his forearms of the dirt, then slipped near him as well to lay down. His toes wriggled back and forth whilst gazing up.

‘’It wasn’t interesting,’’ Baybur said, looking at the departing soldiers. ‘’They seem bad.’’

‘’You mean ill?’’ Caner asked. ‘’Their faces looked white like a scared chicken. And they were all frowning with all that music!’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Baybur stretched his legs, feeling the pain go away, ‘’My ears hurt from that. How do they charge out with it?’’

‘’The footsteps are loud enough for me,’’ Caner said. ‘’So it seems useless.’’

‘’Perhaps it is for the enemy, not them.’’

‘’It could be...’’ Caner’s words trailed off. The wind on top of the hill brushed past their short, almost bald scalps and tickled their cheek. A faint shade of red appeared on both of their noses. It is cold- Baybur thought, taking another breath. The air rushed into his lungs while piercing his innards with chilly waves.

He decided to lay down. It proved to be effective...somewhat. At least the wind only got his belly and his nose, rather than his whole torso. But them sweating all the way to come over here didn’t help the fact. Baybur was aware of it as well, so he rolled around to get the beads of stinking liquid off from his body. Caner cast him a cursory glance, then retracted back to stare at the sky.

Baybur saw his eyes in the midst of his rolls. He stopped and rolled back to his place, letting out a puff, and looked up. The clouds seemed to become like a colony of bugs rather than a humongous whole. Rather than the singular silver behemoth, now it was a collection of hundreds of smokey white particles floating forward. Even then they managed to block out the sun from lightening the grey air. Sunlight didn’t seem too apprehensive about it though, it gave off a calm shine that slipped between a few clouds and nothing else.

‘’How fast clouds go?’’ Caner asked suddenly, turning to look at him. Baybur lowered his gaze to ponder for a moment, yet he couldn’t find the answer. Another question appeared instead of an answer.

‘’Is it the clouds going or the earth going?’’ He asked back, but his gaze was still on the sky. Which one was it? If it was the earth moving, then did the hill move as well? The roads? How would they stay in the same place if the earth moved as well? The city? The buildings would collapse if their foundations were misplaced, wouldn’t they?

Then what if, instead, the clouds were the ones moving. Where were they going? Where did they come from? Were the puffs of humongous mists they saw from another place, or were they the same that somehow transformed to another shape over time? How frequently they transformed, if so, and how long did it take them to reform?

Without waiting, Baybur passed these questions to Caner right as the thought of them. Caner closed his eyes, kept silent. Baybur didn’t answer as well. The sound of the faint rumbling and the breeze patting their bellies proved enough of a company. Perhaps a few seconds, perhaps a few minutes, they didn’t know how long passed before Caner opened his eyes and Baybur stood up.

‘’I don’t know.’’

‘’I don’t know.’’

They both answered at the same time. Their eyes caught each others’ gazes, then they giggled.

‘’I knew you didn’t know.’’

‘’I also knew,’’ Baybur pouted, then his expression brightened. ‘’What about love, then? Did you find an answer for it?’’

‘’I asked brother and sister-’’

‘’That’s unfair, Caner!’’ Baybur stuck out a tongue, the other boy only smirked and continued talking.

‘’-They said you can’t fall in love if you know what love is. If you know what love is, then it is no longer love.’’

‘’...what does it mean?’’

‘’I don’t know. Perhaps you can’t marry if you love someone, or something like that?’’

‘’Could be,’’ Baybur said, then his ears pricked. He shot to his feet, Caner did the same, and their eyes focused on the back of the leading army of red and white. The tail of the beast could be seen now. And the rumbling was now almost non-existent. It didn’t last much longer, ten seconds passed and together with the rear of the army the sound disappeared from their senses. They both stood silent for some more time, then looked at each other.

‘’Let’s go back,’’ Caner said. ‘’Sister must have prepared something.’’

‘’Okay!’’ Baybur nodded and followed behind Caner now carefully climbing down the hill. In the meantime, his mind was still on those last few words.

If you know what love is, it is no longer love...

*********

‘’...that is why Mongols are seen with discontent there.’’ The man from Baghdad finished his words on the seat near the host, innkeeper. He nodded alongside with the scientist, causing their rather well-kept beards to sway together, and clapped twice to show his admiration.

‘’Really, I didn’t expect...’’ Their voices and the discussion about the Beytu’l Hikme’s birth, improvement, impacts, then its destruction reached the few seated man around them quite clear, but Baybur didn’t have the heart to listen. There were only murmurs in his ears, the prickling breeze reminiscent of that hill, and the faint taste of purple grapes left in his mouth. He snuck a slow peek at the Caner next to him. He stood with his legs and arms crossed, his beloved reed flute not in sight. He sniffed every once in awhile with his eyes focused upfront.

Too strange, Baybur thought, retracting his head to gaze into his burnt palm. A four pointed star spread its corners in a tight and thin line. It covered one-fifth of his hand with a blistering red scar. How can I fall in love, even? He felt anger rising in his heart again, his chest started heaving no sooner than they sprang up. But Baybur didn’t give them a chance to rise, he didn’t dare to in a small crowd like this. He took a deep breath, then let it out. Like that-he blew all unreasonable hatred into the air.

But the root was still there, so the leaves continued to sprout. He had to cut that root of doubt in his heart, the belief that his heart was incapable of feeling love, for he knew what a distasteful and agonizing thing it was. The love between princess Wallada and her lover Ibn Zaydun was, perhaps, a great example to how he felt about what love was. Though two were both poets, they were also in the political sphere of their vicious compatriots at that time. They could express themselves on a much higher and intimate level than two soon-to-be wed youths, or than a soldier and his childhood sweetheart waiting behind the frontlines. Yet the bond they thought so highly of was broken by a mere slave of poot backgrounds, with lust and earthly desire. All by the man himself, and for what reason? A change of heart? The sin he accused Wallada of that compelled him to break that thin thread called love, what was it?

It was troubling. It was irrational. And what was more unbelievable than that? Him regretting it.

After being exiled only did Zaydun give his all being to writing poems. Not those that he slandered and blamed and insulted Wallada, nor those that he taunted and framed and belittled Ibn Abdus, Wallada’s later lover and his political competitor. He wrote actual poems, some say, those that made him a poet more than a vizier, a cheater, a man with an unsteady heart. He wrote about his regret over leaving Cordoba, and about his lost princess. And they were, in some sense, also what gave worth to her letters of love to him. But was this enough of a virtue to cleanse what he did?

It seemed so, as the duo reconciled when both approached their seventh decade. The love never rekindled, however. Only an ember, some records of their letters, and exaggerated stories of their past remained.

So what was love for these two, in the end?

Baybur raised his head to look above. His eyes devoured the flickering flames of the candles stuck between chandelier’s hollow, oval rings. The sounds slowly rushed back to his ears, flowed from middle-section into the inner parts, then reached cochlea and spread soundwaves that vibrated stereocilia. His nerves sent the signals, his brain cooled down from the furious thinking and slowed to process the information coming through.

There are more questions than answers, Baybur lowered his head and put his burnt palm before his eyes, And I can’t find a solution to any of them...

*********

Around noon the next day, Baybur and Caner left the inn and parted ways at its front. They weren’t bidding farewells so soon, there were matters of their school in Bursa to talk about and the time he would set out wasn’t decided. At least yet. that was also the reason he was visiting the palace for, and from what Sultan said he would welcome both him and Çetin Pasha together into the audience of the Diwan. To meet the highest ranking politicians and decision makers of the realm gave his heart a restless wave he didn’t feel for some time. When was the last time, he wondered after sending off Caner to his master Hikmet’s house.

Baybur walked off towards the western side of the city through a small amount of open-air vendors and shops, with few houses for accommodation available in sight. Buildings of carved stone, however, were abundant with arches and delicate calligraphies around their pillars and entrances. Not far from his path, at most fifty steps away, he saw women dangling their bodies from the windows between the arching beams, signing to the tune of a ashık seated below the pillars. His steps faltered for a moment, they slowed down and came to a halt right before the man playing saz. The man didn’t raise his head when Baybur focused on him.

His scrubby arms were half-covered in a verdant gown, under that a simple white garment to cover his belly. His eyes were closed and from his enigmatic expression, it was clear his senses only captured the mournful voices of the women above him.

‘’Is there no cure to my trouble, I wonder?

Is there no end to patience’s measure, I wonder?

Seal me from head to toe, I’m burning,

Is there no end to burning, I wonder?

Smiles a foe to what I cry,

Does that heathen not have faith, too?

The arrow of your dimple pierces my chest,

Look into my heart, see if remains the tip.’’

Baybur looked around him, to the moving people back and forth between the streets. To the unmoving glances and ceaseless steps hurrying to another place than here. Did they not hear these mournful cries? He took a step back, cast his eyes to the man busy with the strings of soul. Each time his fingers slipped from a string, Baybur felt a thread tug at his heart.

Sister’s marriage...Baybur’s pupils trembled before he closed his eyes shut. He stood there, unmoving, his figure weird and bothering to people trying to pass through the streets. A few more seconds passed, then the melody ended and he felt someone tap on his knees.

‘’Move on, brother,’’ Baybur saw the Ashık wave his hand. ‘’This isn’t the place for enlightenment, let me cleanse myself in peace.’’

Baybur nodded at the man and put a hand over his left chest. ‘’Thank you,’’ He said, ‘’And may Allah help you.’’

Ashık didn’t say anymore and closed his eyes again, the shouts of the women from the windows came not long after. He grumbled before striking the strings again, a new song started pouring out of his soul and these women’s tongues.

But Baybur didn’t stay to listen, he had left long before they began...

*********

Outside the entrance to the hall of the throne room, Baybur entrusted his weapon to the guards and stepped inside. He moved fast and reached right next to the locked gates with another pair of guards standing alert, and the face of someone expected.

‘’My pasha,’’ Baybur put a hand over his left chest and gave a slight bow. ‘’Blessed days.’’

‘’Oh, Baybur,’’ Çetin Pasha smiled and approached him, patted his shoulders twice. ‘’Welcome. Why are you outside rather than inside? You ought to protect the Sultan as his guard, no?’’

‘’I was allowed to go back,’’ He said, ‘’My Sultan approved me staying outside for some time since our depart seems imminent.’’

‘’Hm, Hm,’’ Çetin pasha nodded in understanding and retracted his hand from Baybur’s shoulder. He seemed to realize his uncomfortable mood. ‘’Did something happen?’’

‘’Nothing noteworthy, my pasha,’’ Baybur shook his head. ‘’Just exhaustion, thank you for your care.’’

‘’Mind is as important as the body, Baybur, don’t dismiss it as mere exhaustion.’’ Çetin Pasha said, and seemed like he would follow with a chain of thoughts but the gates rumbled before them. They both turned to face the creaking doors, at the same time they squealed and opened wide to reveal a man who both knew, one close one as a simple acquaintance.

‘’My my, Salih, were you the one who kept me waiting so long?’’ Çetin Pasha smiled and greeted the man, who showed a wry smile.

‘’Sorry, Çetin Pasha. I also didn’t think I would stay that...long,’’ Salih pasha said.

‘’Don’t expect anything from court works, else it makes you sick in your stomach from frustration. But it is tough though, no wonder Sultans are always quite patient.’’

‘’Indeed,’’ Salih Pasha nodded, his gaze swept by Baybur. ‘’I shall take my leave, then, as I’ll need to prepare my luggage and equipment. I’ll see you later in the field, my pasha,’’ At here he gazed at Baybur, ‘’And you, Baybur, I entrust Çetin Pasha. I hope you protect him well.’’

‘’He might as well be protecting me,’’ Baybur jested, smiling, ‘’I’m of no match to him.’’

‘’Farewell,’’ Salih Pasha smiled without commenting and departed with a stack of state documents in his hand to the outside. From inside an attendant came and called them to the court, they obliged. As they stepped in, the attendant passed them and closed the door from behind with an echoing rumble, causing both to look up at the Sultan and the room.

Now that the decoratives and the tables didn’t take up any more space, the grandness of the throne room seemed to increase in Baybur’s eyes. His pupils shrank, however, when his gaze swept by the stained glasses and reached below the stairs of Sultan’s throne. There stood two men, whom he both knew from appearance.

‘’I’ll be departing in two days,’’ Sultan beckoned with his hand to his feet, or near the Chandarlı Halil Pasha, for them to move. ‘’There is not much to discuss, so let me be quick.’’

Baybur and Çetin pasha approached the grand vizier and Umeyyet agha, exchanged glances with both while receiving a scroll from the former. It had a fresh seal on it strapped to bind its top to bottom and the smell of ink still lingered. Çetin Pasha took it for a moment, then passed it for Baybur to hold. Taking it into his hands, Baybur took a step back and lowered his head. Before the eyes of Chandarlı, he had to be mindful of some...etiquette.

‘’The ship for the diplomatic body is prepared at the Enez and the gifts are settled inside,’’ Chandarlı spoke in Sultan’s stead, Baybur couldn’t see Sultan’s reaction. ‘’We expect the Doge Foscari to accept non-aggression quite easily, yet precautions are to be taken. There will be two more ships that will escort you out of the Aegean sea, then you will proceed alone through Mediterranean to Ionian and Adriatic.’’

‘’A single ship throughout three seas? I won’t even question the danger of the route, Halil Pasha, but since when did you become a naval expert to decide on a pathway?’’ This comment had more value than it seemed. Çetin Pasha himself was someone educated in both land and sea military arts. Though the Sultanate had no real fleet to be proud of, and as a result their naval prowess lacked compared to their compatriots, their progress in the art of battle still reflected on the sea. So while he had no experience of a naval battle, Çetin pasha had more qualifications than to simply question a only culture-literate sycophant vizier.

‘’Contrary to you, dear Çetin Pasha, I still have a working mind that keeps learning,’’ Baybur frowned at the remark, and he heard a faint snort above him.

‘’Four ships until mediterranean, then two, will escort them until they are out of the Ionian sea,’’ Sultan Mehmed said, ‘’And I’ll increase your entourage to fifteen men, each will come travel with you both on land and the sea.’’

‘’My Sultan,’’ Halil Pasha raised his hand and waved it down, it was too easy to see his intention to dramatise the conversation. ‘’The only piracy happens near North African coasts, and this size of an entourage will definitely attract more pirates to it.’’

‘’A larger fleet will make it easier to scare off some petty gold-esurientes,’’ Çetin pasha replied, ‘’ And unless they are looking to drown in their own blood, no pirate fleet will approach a diplomatic envoy of the Sultanate.’’

‘’That is the truth,’’ Sultan Mehmed voiced his agreement, ‘’Get prepared to move, I expect you to mount those ships by tomorrow morning and reach there at most three weeks later, if the weather is favorable.’’

‘’Also,’’ He added, ‘’Çetin Pasha, I’ll be back in no time from Anatolia for...’’

‘’I understand, my Sultan,’’ Çetin pasha replied and gave a bow with his hand on his left chest. ‘’Then we’ll take our leave.’’

‘’Farewell,’’ Sultan waved his hand again and the gates opened with rumbles.

How do they know when to open? Eavesdropping? Baybur took two steps back with Çetin pasha, then they both turned back and walked off. The gates closed behind them, a last squeal as an alert, and with a few dozen steps they were out of the hallway and in the square before the entrance.

The sunlight cast their shadows towards the dark entrance to the palace whilst they moved and stopped before a grand carriage. It was Çetin Pasha’s carriage, obviously, as the driver dropped from the seat in front to open the door. Çetin Pasha turned to look at Baybur with his deep brown eyes. His pupils seemed to have a hard time adjusting their size and place, they flickered back and forth between Baybur’s feet, his torso, and his face.

Baybur raised a cautious brow, not as a sign of dissatisfaction as one might recognize, but as a soft reminder to the Çetin pasha about the implication of it. A prolonged silence between the two might give wrong ideas to wrong people, especially the pair of guards sneaking wary glances at the scroll in his hands. I see...Sultan is right to hate that man.

‘’Baybur, accompany me a bit longer,’’ Çetin pasha said at last, a smile appeared on his dry, old lips. ‘’Would you?’’

‘’I wouldn’t dare refuse,’’ Baybur nodded and presented the scroll, yet Çetin Pasha’s hands brushed them down to keep it away from himself. From the reflection of his eyes, Baybur inspected, he saw a man standing behind not far from them. Though blurry, as how it was supposed to be, and quite unrecognizable because of the distorted form, the long white turban slanting down to the man’s waist gave away his identity.

Baybur didn’t voice any more opinions and gave a slight bow, Çetin pasha climbed the carriage at his notion. Baybur followed after and winked at the carriage driver, then closed the door. He took a seat facing Çetin Pasha and pulled the small curtains around the windows to cover the insides. They heard, now, two different footsteps. One rushed to the front and with a faint tremor landed on the driver's seat, the other seemed to rush towards them with haste.

‘’DEH!’’ The driver yelled, whipping of the leashes whistled on front and after a small rumble the hooves of the horses started stomping the ground. Dull impacts quickened and right before the other footsteps could arrive, the driver moved forward.

‘’One moment-’’ A voice called out, almost as dull as the tinkering wheels, yet quite young, but the driver didn’t hold on. The carriage’s speed increased and the rest of the unknown man’s sentence disintegrated between the other sounds.

‘’Hah-’’ Baybur let out a breath, focused his gaze, and presented the scroll once more. Then a hand pushed it back, again. ‘’My Pasha?’’

‘’Hold onto that for a bit longer,’’ Çetin Pasha replied and slightly opened his legs to stretch. Baybur didn’t speak or ask why for the moment, for he saw Çetin Pasha pondering over something. His gaze, as he did just a while ago, glazed over his body again.

As any intelligent and social soldier would do, Baybur also had quite a few connections with...not so welcomed sources of information. The few slave traders that kept christian enemies prisoner talked more than once about some high ranked nobles strange desires. Married men, even, came before many of those, and old men surpassed them in that aspect. But as a man knowing many of the Sultanate’s pashas well from the standpoint of a cunning informant, and having quite discerning eyes to see people’s mood-or as he thought- Baybur didn’t sense any...lust, from Çetin Pasha. He didn’t expect to even do so, to be honest, but the intense scrutiny of his inspection inevitably let some weird ideas grow.

Luckily, most of these cases, as people told, happened around the western lands and almost never in Sultanate’s lands. But almost never wasn’t never.

‘’Baybur-’’ Çetin Pasha opened his mouth after a while, at the same time reached for the curtains to let some air inside. ‘’What do you think about my daughter?’’

A faint breeze gushed inside to scratch both of their cheeks and lick their hair, and did as it intended with quite a cold touch. The faint flickers of light also rushed from the aperture between the half-open curtain, but it only managed to shower Baybur in its glow.

‘’???????’’ Baybur froze.

‘’I mean Arzu,’’ Çetin Pasha continued, he flashed another warm smile at her name’s mention. ‘’What do you think of her? Did she seem like a good woman to you?’’

‘’She, well...’’ Baybur flustered at the mention of her name, as well as the nonchalant attitude of the supposed father. Was it not that big of a deal to ask a young man whether he was interested in his daughter? Did Baybur have some kind of broken common sense?

‘’Well?’’

Baybur took a deep breath at the urge, then exhaled. ‘’Sorry,’’ He said and took a few more deep breaths. He didn’t like this feeling of being exposed. It was foreign to him, one he only felt in his childhood and in his years at the novice hearths. As he grew up, and his wisdom flourished with his age and experiences, he never fell into a situation where he felt the tense nervousness of being seen through. Yet, the moment he came to the capital with the hopes of stepping on a higher stage befitting to him, he lived the same thing twice in a row.

So he had to calm down, that was the first priority, and since he had been recognized it didn’t matter if he tried in open or in secret. He wouldn’t be able to do it anyway.

A few more seconds passed and Baybur recollected himself. He pondered for a moment.

‘’She...is a fine lady,’’ Baybur replied, ‘’Her beauty might be praised a lot, and she indeed deserves any praise on that aspect, but her calm demeanor seemed nobler than many other ladies I saw.’’

‘’So you have taken a liking to her. May I assume that?’’ Çetin Pasha’s smile widened.

This time it was Baybur’s turn to swallow this man from head to toe with his gaze. Yes, why do you ask that? He could inquire, but that wouldn’t be much of a good presentation of himself.

Why do I worry about that? Baybur suddenly stopped his train of thought. Why did he, indeed, feel nervous about presenting himself to Çetin Pasha now? Was there really a need? No, he did plenty of exposition for the Sanjak-beys and aghas and Pashas in the banquet, that was enough in itself as a mean of intimidation. What was the source, then?

I’m...Baybur clenched his fists.

‘’Forgive my insolence, my Pasha, I indeed got swept by her looks for some time. But I have no intention to get punished by my Orta’s agha any soon-’’

‘’Or strain my relationship with you right before an important state matter.’’

Çetin Pasha didn’t react any different, his smile only condensed into a raised thin lip. ‘’I can request your admittance to me, Baybur, if you are willing,’’ Çetin Pasha said, Baybur froze for a second time.

‘’Celibacy? It is worth nothing. Do you know how many aghas I know have a family living in some great estate? More than a dozen. What about Second in commands’ and third in commands’? At least over two hundred. Your position is a precarious but prized one, Baybur, and any punishment you will receive for wanting a family of your own won’t exceed a dozen whips.’’

‘’If you are still worried about that, I will say again, I can take you under my wings. I can make you still exist in your Orta, be a janissary, and let you be known as my household’s bodyguard. Or the Sultan can do the same, as he intends to do so,’’ Çetin Pasha rubbed his crescent beard at here, ‘’ but he doesn’t have a beautiful daughter that mesmerized you, does he?’’

‘’This is pushing boundaries, my Pasha,’’ Baybur muttered. He flung the scroll to the thighs of Çetin Pasha and stomped on the ground two times. The small crevice in the front opened with a small squeal and the driver’s face peeked inside.

‘’What does my lord wish?’’

A disturbing silence fell between two men- three men, including the driver. Çetin Pasha’s smile disappeared and a slight annoyance appeared in his eyes. ‘’Nothing, just don’t forget to drop our guest at his tavern.’’

‘’Understood?’’ Driver mumbled and closed the wooden board, then they were left alone again.

‘’Baybur,’’ Çetin Pasha leaned forward, his gown shriveled with his movement. ‘’Why do you refuse?’’

‘’May I say my honest opinion, my pasha, and expect you to be, regardless of what I say, calm and collected?’’

‘’You can’t,’’ Çetin pasha said, ‘’I’m not sure if you recognize, but I am of old age. My emotions are hard to suppress.’’

Baybur frowned, his lips gaped slightly, then shut. But he had a feeling that if he didn’t say it now, he would be drowning in the intersection of two choices in the future. Baybur knew what he wanted as Baybur, but he didn’t know what he wanted as a human. He didn’t know what to expect from his needs as a human, from his instincts, and from his pounding heart.

In his opinion, the aims he dreamed as a child and pursued as a youth held more importance than a faint, lingering touch of love. But he had a feeling that the latter existed for some reason, and it remained as a faint scent in his mind because of an unwilling subconscious desire. Lust might be said, but the clear smell of the feeling didn’t carry any longing for the body. That is why he was confused. If it wasn’t lust, if it wasn’t looks, if it wasn’t the exterior that made him bewildered, what was it?

He feared the result of exploring that. He didn’t want to tie himself tighter to the monster called Sultanate. He didn’t want to suffer from the backlash of his revenge in the case he established that connection. Thus, he wasn’t willing.

He didn’t know what he wanted as a human, and being a human was the most burdensome thing in his life. He wasn’t going to benefit the side he hated the most by destroying Baybur’s dream. He was, after all, Baybur himself.

Being selfish was his sole opinion.

‘’What I want is not a family, I already have one,’’ Baybur said at last, his pupils carried a sharp glint that tried to pierce through Çetin Pasha’s eyes. ‘’And even if I didn’t have one, you wouldn’t be able to provide, my pasha. My family is not something given by anyone.’’

‘’...Not given, you say?’’ Çetin Pasha closed his wizened eyelids and sighed. ‘’Pitiful.’’

‘’My daughter, I mean,’’ Before Baybur refuted, Çetin Pasha waved his hand to clarify. ‘’Being a mute and the sole heir of a Pasha is hard enough for her. Her sole family is me, and once I go from old age I fear there will be no one to call her family.’'

‘’Unlike you, Baybur, her family is given.’’

‘’...I can’t give her that.’’

‘’I know, that is why she is pitiful. I am pitiful, I can’t even find a good husband for her to take care of her,’’ Çetin pasha let out another sigh. As if each breath he let loose dispersed his remaining lifespan. ‘’Being a mute shouldn’t result in such discrimination...’’

‘’My pasha, we arrived!’’ The driver’s shout came right after Çetin pasha’s third sigh.

Baybur stood from his seat and opened the door, he saw the entrance to the tavern he and Caner rented a room. Before going out, he turned around and cast a last glance at Çetin Pasha.

His body reeked of desolation.

Baybur gave a deep bow with his hand on his left chest, then descended the stairs of the carriage.

‘’I will get someone to pick you up at the first light of dawn,’’ Çetin Pasha spoke again, ‘’Don’t bother going to the palace again, I’ll take the entourage with me first to the ships.’’

‘’Thank you, my pasha.’’

‘’Farewell,’’ Çetin pasha nodded. Baybur closed the door behind him and the carriage sped off towards the southern parts of the city, to the Çetin pasha’s estate.

Inside the carriage, Çetin Pasha looked up at the ceiling, then sighed for the last time.

*********

Glaring lights of the afternoon sun invaded the deck he was standing upon. At his back on the horizon, the coasts of the old Greek lands and Thrace moved further and further away, and at his sides four Cog ships moved around their Caravel bearing the Sultanate’s three crescent moon flag.

Salty wind rushed to his nose and the breeze forced his hair to dangle in the air from behind. And in their front, the clear blue of the sea infected Baybur with an indescribable feeling.

The journey to the Republic Of Venice had begun.