Constantinopolis by James Shipman Read Free Book Online Page A

direction, as far as the eye could see, was a vast shipyard. Thousands of workers streamed busily over at least a hundred ships in various stages of construction. A number of completed ships lay at anchor on freshly built docks extending out into the sea.
    “My Sultan, how can this be?” asked Zaganos.
    “This is my fleet. Do you like it?”
    “I don’t know what to say. Of course it is amazing. A gift from Allah. But I don’t understand.”
    “With a fleet we can attack the single walls of Constantinople by sea, can we not? And we can stop relief fleets from arriving from the west. Does this not solve the council’s primary concerns? Aid from the west? Invulnerability by sea?”
    Zaganos was stunned.
    “My Sultan, this fleet may answer those questions, at least some questions. But how did you build this fleet in just a few weeks? This is impossible.”
    “I started construction of this fleet months ago Zaganos. I knew the council would never approve my plans without overcoming all of the obstacles that Halil would put in my way. I knew I would have to make my own destiny in this.”
    “How will your fleet operate? We do not have sufficient sailors do we? That is a constant problem for us, our inexperience at sea.”
    “I have recruited sailors from throughout the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. Our admiral is a Bulgarian I have recruited named Baltoghlu. He has extensive experience in Western naval strategies and will lead our fleet to victory over the Greeks.”
    “He is Christian or was? Can he be trusted?”
    “You too were Christian my friend. Can I trust you?”
    Zaganos was thoughtful for some time, looking out over the vast construction. Finally he spoke again.
    “My Sultan, you have solved only one problem, the problem of the sea. This does not stop aid from the west if it comes in full force, it does not stop Hunyadi and it does not help us against the land walls. I do not think you will convince Halil. He will brush this aside. He is still far too strong with the council. He thinks he is secure and can challenge you, if not openly, at least through subtle resistance.”
    Mehmet smiled. “Do not worry my friend. I have other surprises in store for our Grand Vizier.”
    THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1452
    A week later Mehmet had returned to Edirne and the palace. The flickering darkness of his room kept him calm. He was alert and awake even at this late hour. The palace slept, all save a few guards and servants. He was filled with anticipation. He had savored this moment for a very long time, his opening move in a game that would risk everything. He was ready, he had prepared and was willing to gamble, even if he was gambling his life.
    He heard a soft knock at his door. “Come,” he commanded.
    The Grand Vizier cautiously entered the room. He was still dressed in his sleeping robes and looked disoriented and fearful. He carried a plate filled with gold coins which he proffered to Mehmet.
    The Sultan smiled to himself. So Halil feared him after all. An ancient custom required that trusted servants of a Sultan should bring a gold offering if ever they were summoned in the middle of the night. The gold was a last gift, a bribe to show loyalty, and to beg for their life. Mehmet was surprised Halil would be afraid. Didn’t he control the council against him? Wouldn’t the council depose Mehmet, and likely kill him if he acted against Halil? He thinks I’m stupid, Mehmet realized. He believes me so reckless that I might kill him, without realizing the consequences. How little you understand me Halil. But you will. You will.
    Mehmet waived aside the gold and beckoned for his Grand Vizier to come further in and take a seat.
    Halil cautiously took his seat, looking around him to see if an assassin would lunge out of the darkness. Mehmet poured Halil some water. Halil took it and drank slowly, as if the liquid were assuredly poisoned. The atmosphere was tense. “How may I serve you My Sultan?”
    “By now I’m