Constantinopolis Read online

  Mehmet looked closely at Halil. “So that is it, is it? We can never move against the city until we can solve the land walls and stop the Latins from coming to Constantine’s aid?”

  “Yes My Lord. You can try, in my opinion but you must fail. Again, your father was one of our greatest leaders. He won victory after victory. He succeeded in everything he set his hand to but . . .”

  “But he could not take the city.”

  “No. Even your father could not take it. In the prime of his life, with his people behind him and the full confidence and resources of the Ottomans, he could not take it.”

  “Thank you Halil, I will think on what you say.”

  The Grand Vizier smiled and rose to his feet, bowing to the Sultan. Mehmet rose to walk him out. The Grand Vizier turned and walked to the door, reaching to open it.

  He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Mehmet close to him, menacing. The Sultan reached down and took the plate full of gold from Halil. He moved his head near Halil and whispered in the Grand Vizier’s ear. “Give me what I want Halil. Give me Constantinople.”

  Halil shuddered. He seemed to hesitate.

  The Sultan continued, still whispering. “If I give you peace with the west and I deliver you the walls, you will give me the city.”

  Halil stared at the Sultan for a moment. He seemed about to leave. Finally he nodded once, and turned away, fleeing quickly into the darkness.

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1452

  The following day Mehmet rose early and breakfasted on fruits and bread on his balcony overlooking Edirne. He loved the city. In many ways it was a better capitol than Constantinople. Inland, there could never be a surprise fleet appearing on the horizon to menace the capitol. Laying siege to Edirne would be difficult, and Mehmet would be able to draw troops both north and south to lift any such effort. But Edirne was not a great city. Constantinople not only stood strategically between two seas and two continents, it also was a tremendous symbol. The city was the successor to Rome, the seat of the Eastern Roman Empire for a thousand years. The ruler of Constantinople was the successor to the empire itself. The city also contained the great cathedral of St. Sophia, the greatest church in the Christian world. To convert St. Sophia into a mosque to the glory of Allah was worth capturing the city all by itself. To capture the last capitol of the Roman Empire and take on the mantle of the Romans would make Mehmet master of both east and west.

  From there he could sweep west and capture Rome. He could also sweep north and take Hungary, and the German Kingdoms. The rest would fall quickly. Europe would be his. He could bring the true faith to these misguided sons of Christ. The Ottomans would rule the world. All of this was in his grasp. He had simply to take the city and all else would fall into place.

  He eventually rose, dressed and made his way to the council hall where his ministers already awaited him. Zaganos was there, along with the Grand Mufti and of course Halil. He had assembled his entire council for the first time since September to review the status of the Sultanate.

  After the bows and exchanges of pleasantries, Mehmet asked Halil to give a summary of the current displacement of the Ottoman forces and what information he had obtained about the Constantinople.

  Halil bowed again to the Sultan. “Thank you My Lord. I would first note how impressed we all are by your forward thinking in beginning the construction of a fleet. Why you felt the need to do so secretly was somewhat more of a mystery—however it is of course your prerogative as Sultan to do as you please.”

  There was some murmuring and Mehmet sensed not everyone approved of the Vizier’s statement. Or rather a number of ministers approved of the Vizier’s point.

  Halil continued. “As discussed, the fleet should be utilized for operations in the Black Sea while we concentrate on some small scale operations in the Baltics, or perhaps in Anatolia. We then should . . .”

  “Why not attack Constantinople now?” asked the Sultan.

  Halil looked up from the interruption, taken aback. “I don’t understand my Lord? We just agreed yesterday that it was far too premature to proceed with such a . . .”

  “No Halil, we agreed that if I could solve the land walls and assure peace with the West, then you would wholeheartedly support my proposal to attack the city. Isn’t that true?”

  The Grand Vizier didn’t respond. He looked around the room slowly as if attempting to determine what to do. He exchanged glances with several councilmembers of the old guard. They could not communicate directly here. Mehmet knew that, which was why he had cornered Halil and why he was springing this plan on them here and now.

  “Isn’t that true?” demanded Mehmet.

  “Of course it is true My Sultan.” Halil chuckled nervously. “But come now, do you have flying carpets to whisk us over the walls?” Several people laughed. Mehmet stared around the room until there was quiet again.

  “It is settled then, we will attack.”

  “But My Lord. How do you propose to work these miracles?”

  Mehmet shouted for a servant who brought in a parchment rolled up and sealed with wax. Mehmet took the parchment, broke the seal and displayed it to the room. “This is a treaty from John Hunyadi. I have given him free reign in Hungary and a promise of ten years of peace in exchange for his commitment that he will not come to the aid of the Greeks. He has promised us he will not interfere.”

  Halil was white with shock. He clearly had not expected this turn of events. “That is quite the turn of events my Lord, but Hunyadi is not the west. He is but part of the problem.”

  Mehmet pulled out two additional documents concealed in his robes. “Here are treaties from Venice and Genoa. They will not interfere. I have promised them trade rights in the new city under more favorable terms than the Greeks have given them. In addition, they look forward to unrestricted trade through the traditional trade routes. Our increasing pressure on Constantinople has badly hurt the Latin trade over the years. These infidels would rather sell out their Christian brothers for gold than come to their aid. That is why we will rule them all some day.”

  Halil was even more surprised. He looked around again, assessing support. He was clearly unprepared for these new developments. Mehmet was very pleased. He had cornered Halil last night and forced him to commit to specifics. Now he was forcing the same thing before the council.

  “So Halil, you can see that I have neutralized to a great extent any potential threat from the west. I know they can be unreliable. I know they may break treaties, but their promises should hold them for a while. At least long enough for us to be able to take the city.”

  “Our Sultan has assured peace with the west, and he has solved the problems by sea. Can we not now proceed?” asked Zaganos. There was a murmuring of assent from the younger members of the council. “Surely this is Allah’s will? It is time.”

  Halil glared at Zaganos and then returned his attention to the Sultan. He bowed. “My Lord, you seem to have thought of everything. How can we not all be impressed with your passion and your cleverness? But of course there remains the land walls. At the end of the day, nothing matters if we cannot breach the walls. And as you know, no hostile army has ever crossed the land walls of Constantinople. Even cannon balls bounce harmlessly off of them. What will we do? Spend a season crashing against them, as we have done over and over? Losing twenty men to every Greek we kill? That is what has happened each and every time in the past. And to what end? Eventually the Latins will break their treaties and come to Constantine’s aid. Has not Hunyadi already broken a sacred oath made with your father? How can we trust him now? And what is true of the Latins is even more true of the Persians and even our Muslim brothers in Anatolia. Show but a moment of weakness and they will strike. They do not yet fear you My Sultan, as I’ve argued again and again. Let us build that fear. Then we can worry about this pestilent city.”

  “Do you deny you have promised me the city if I can solve the land walls?”

  “I . . . I do not My L
ord, but what does this matter? We talk of fantasies. Let us talk instead of what we can . . .”

  “It is settled then,” said Mehmet. “When I bring you the walls of Constantinople, you will support me, Halil, and all of the rest of you will as well.”

  Mehmet stared out over silence in the council. No one answered. Many could not meet his gaze. He played a very dangerous game. He had maneuvered Halil into a corner, but never is a snake more dangerous than when it has no place to which it can escape.

  “All of you come with me.”

  Mehmet led the council members out of the throne room and through the twisting halls of the palace. He could hear the whispering behind him.

  He enjoyed this moment. A moment of triumph. He had learned so much from the earlier betrayals. Knowledge and secrets gave him power over these men, men in most instances older and with more experience. He had learned that it was not enough to be Sultan. A Sultan was just another man. He could be controlled, even killed, by any group of people who gained power over him. Like the empire itself, show a moment’s weakness and he would be devoured. He had learned instead that he must be the one to dominate men. He had learned that fear, and secrecy, as well as flattery, bribery and kindness, were tools he must use in equal measure.

  He led the men out into a large courtyard. A new person stood waiting, bowing as Mehmet and the council came into view. He was an older man, obviously European, with white balding hair.

  “This is Orban. Orban is a Hungarian with some very special talents. He attempted to offer these services to Constantine recently but our poor unfortunate friend could not afford them, so he came here instead. He named a sum for his services. I gave him much more than he asked for. I think you will agree this was a wise decision.”

  Orban bowed again. “The Sultan is too kind to me. Are you ready for the viewing?” Mehmet nodded.

  “Come with me.” Orban led the council further along the courtyard and then through open air corridors to a second courtyard further within the palace. The enormous courtyard had been converted to a series of open-air forges. Dozens of men worked at the forges, beating metal over fire into various shapes. However, it was not the forges that held the council’s attention. In the center of the Courtyard stood a partially assembled cannon. The cannon was enormous, many times larger than any such weapon the Ottomans had previously possessed. The cannon was nearly thirty feet long and three feet in diameter.

  Mehmet looked around, savoring this moment. His council was stunned, speechless. Even Zaganos was staring wide-eyed, shaking his head slightly.

  “Orban, will this cannon breach the walls of Constantinople?”

  “Yes, My Lord. There are no walls made by man that can withstand this cannon. It will lob a cannon ball made of stone or iron and weighing two thousand pounds more than a mile. It will assuredly breach the walls. The question is not whether, it is only when. There are drawbacks. This weapon will require at least fifty people to handle it, hundreds to move it, and probably will only be able to be fired ten times a day.”

  “When will it be ready for a test?”

  “Less than sixty days My Lord. And I am also working on a number of smaller cannons. You will have the greatest artillery force in the world in a matter of months.”

  Mehmet turned to Halil and the rest of the council. “We will test this cannon, and when the test is successful, we will meet again and we will decide to attack the city. It is Allah’s will.”

  Halil stood staring at Mehmet with barely concealed anger. The Sultan thought for a moment the older man might leap at him. He couldn’t be that stupid could he? He savored the vision of the Vizier attacking him. He could lop off his head and watch his body shake and roll around on the ground. He silently willed it, prayed for him to lunge. Unfortunately he did not.

  After a time Halil bowed, turned, and walked away. He was joined by a group of the elder councilors, scurrying away no doubt to plot their next move. Mehmet had outmaneuvered them today. He had won a battle, but not the war. He had permission now to attack Constantinople, assuming Orban’s cannon worked. This however did not assure him victory. He had simply achieved the right to try where everyone else had failed for a thousand years. Doubts sprang up even in his excitement. What if he failed to take the city? Had he just brilliantly paved the path to his own doom? He had no other choice. He must live under Halil’s boot or he must forge his own path. He would take all or he would lose all. Allah protect him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1452

  Constantine lay in bed with Zophia, his head on her bare stomach. They clung to each other in the darkness, afraid each moment might be their last. He needed her strength, her companionship, and he dreaded the news he had to share with her, news he had held from her far too long. He could not wait any longer, she would know tonight and he feared it would change everything. He had to tell her now.

  “Zophia dear, you know how much I love you.”

  “Mmmmm, yes, you just showed me again.” She said sleepily, with satisfaction.

  “I have something I must tell you, and I’m afraid you are going to be unhappy with me.”

  He felt her stiffen. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I . . .”

  “Don’t tell me you have given in to that bastard Sphrantzes and you are going to marry that whore of a princess?” She pushed the sheets away and got out of bed, standing and staring accusingly at him.

  “No, no, it’s not that, it’s . . .”

  “What is it then?” she still sounded angry although Constantine could tell she was relieved.

  “Perhaps something just as bad. My dear, I have been trying to tell you about this for days. I haven’t been able to find the words. I don’t know how to make this better so I am just going to say it. Tonight at St. Sophia, Isidore is implementing the Union of the Churches, on my authority. He will be giving the Latin Mass.”

  Zophia took a couple of steps back, and turned as pale as the sheet she was holding. She looked as if Constantine had struck her a blow.

  “No, Constantine. What terrible news. How could you do such a thing! You tell me you are not marrying a princess. You have made my body happy. But now instead you wish to destroy my soul? How could you! We will give in to these wretches? To what end? We give up our souls to eternal damnation? For what? A few more years of life on earth? This city will fall eventually, Constantine. You must know that. It is only a matter of time. You cannot do this. The people love you. They trust you. If you do this, you lose them, you lose everything. You cannot protect this city forever. But you can protect the people.”

  “I have to, Zophia. It’s not even my decision. Our representatives at the Council of Florence already endorsed this . . .”

  “Endorsed it, yes. Implemented it? No. It’s been almost 15 years, Constantine. In all of that time there has been no effort to actually make the people follow the Latin ceremonies. The people will rebel. At the best, they will refuse to defend the city and they will never forgive you. At the worst, they will depose and kill you. You must stop the Union.”

  Constantine rose out of bed and slowly walked toward Zophia, putting his arms on her shoulders. “My dear, you do not know what you say. Do we not possess the Doctrine of Energies? We easterners have always taken doctrine with a grain of salt, yes? If we do not agree with every part of the Latin Mass, we can take the good and ignore the bad. Is that not our way? I know the people will be angry. Maybe they will even hate me. I want to save them. I want to save the city. I need western aid. You have no idea how weak we are. How poor. You must believe in me. You must trust me. I cannot do this without you Zophia.”

  “Constantine, I’m begging you not to do this. You won’t lose me if you let this happen, but you will lose a part of me. I love you, I will stay with you, but I beg you to keep our faith. If it is God’s will to let the city fall, then let it happen. At least we die a pure death, untarnished. I know you have had to live a life of compromise, but some compr
omises cannot be made. Please dearest, please do not.”

  “I love you. I love you.” He was crying now, shaking uncontrollably. She held him tightly, he could feel her love and comfort. They did not speak for awhile. Finally she let him go and stood near him, staring deeply into his eyes. “Zophia my dear, I must do this. Please pray for me, please support me.”

  He could see her deep disappointment. He was torn apart inside. Was there never an easy answer for him! Could he not have the luxury of one choice that did not cost him dearly? But he knew he had to do this. Could he let the Turks in to rape and enslave Zophia? He did not feel the Union destroyed his faith or the faith of the people. It was a compromise when nothing but compromises were available. Five hundred years ago, if a Pope had demanded something of a Greek Emperor, the Emperor might well march on Rome with a massive army and sack the city, once again imposing the imperial will on the Latin Church. Those days had passed. The west was rising and the east was all but gone.

  Zophia was right. He should not force this change on the people. She was always right. But he had no choice. He knew in his heart that Mehmet was coming. He had no money, no men, the walls were crumbled and in disrepair. If he did not force this then the city had no chance. He must live with the disappointment of the people. In time they would forgive him.

  “I’m so sorry. I know you are right but I must do this. Will you come with me tonight to St. Sophia? Will you stand by my side through this mass? I don’t know if I can face it without you. You talk of souls Zophia. You are my soul. Please come with me. I know I am asking too much of you.”

  She hugged him again, sobbing. “I can’t my dear. I can’t be there for you in this. I’m so sorry. I love you so much, but I can’t sacrifice my soul, even for you. I am still here for you. Go do this if you must. When you are done, I will be here. Hurry back and I will do everything I can to make things better for you.”