Consolaçam 8

By Ron Singer

Chapter Eight.

“Magnificence,” I said, feigning hesitation, “I concur with your kind offer of conversion, and I thank you for your generous suggestion that Demopoulos resume his career, in the service of the Empire. But, instead of asking my friend and my sister to marry, I think it would suit both of them better if you were to introduce Chana Jael into Your Majesty’s harem. There, she would be subject to the good influences of your senior wives.”

Suleiman looked astonished by the last suggestion. “But why…?” he spluttered.

I explained. “You see, Majesty, that whereas the years have not robbed Chana Jael of her beauty —if anything, they have deepened it— neither do they appear to have taught her wisdom. Ever since she was a girl, our family tried, unsuccessfully, to cure my sister of a certain… wildness, instead of which she has always stubbornly followed her own counsel.” Was I mistaken, or did the Monarch wink at me, before quickly acceding to my plan.

When Ibrahim Pasha brought Demo and Chani back into the Presence, Suleiman announced our plans to them, without revealing who had suggested the harem. They both agreed. If Demo had ever thought of marrying my sister, as I had once imagined, he seemed relieved at the prospect of continuing life in the single state. Since he had never struck me as a religious man, I assumed he would not mind converting from an unobservant Christian to an unobservant Muslim, if that were to be subsequently required. As for Chani, she also acceded to the plan, if with visible reluctance. After all, what choice did she have?

In the months that followed, as time permitted, I attempted to keep track of the fortunes of my two “proteges.” From administrators in my acquaintance, I learned that the Greek-born Demopoulos was ultimately allowed to remain a dhimmi {non-Muslim Ottoman subject], rather than being forced to convert to Islam. Given the command of a small, oar-powered galley operating in the eastern Mediterranean, he acquitted himself well and, although he must have been tempted, never attempted to defect. I was unable to hear from Demo whether he thought I had done him a favor.

I did see him one last time. It was about eight months after our reunion at Topkapi Palace, and it took place in the bar district of Uskudar, on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, where I would often stroll, to escape from my work for an hour, or two. It was a very hot day, so I ventured inside one of the establishments, and ordered a glass of tea and a bowl of pomegranate sherbet. While I was waiting to be served, I spotted Demopoulos.

He seemed too far gone in wine and lust even to notice my presence. With a large, empty flagon tipped onto its side, on his table, Demo was nuzzling an attractive, half-naked, beardless bar boy. Before the besotted Greek could recognize me, I dropped a few coins on my table, and slipped from the bar. That, alas, was the last time I saw my old friend. Selah! Inshallah! [So be it!]

As for Chani, I heard news of her around the same time I saw Demopoulos. A connection in the commissariat that served the royal harem informed me that, quickly tiring of her role as concubine, Chani changed course (as usual), becoming a kyra [purveyor of goods and services to the harem], a role in which my informant said she seemed to prosper. As my wife informed me, the life of a kyra permitted a woman infinitely more scope and opportunity than that of a royal consort, whether wife or concubine. But, since Chani and I never spoke again, or even exchanged any letters, I remained as ignorant of her ultimate fate as I was of Demo’s.

The Lawgiver was, indeed, a visionary. I was proud to serve in his “empire of difference,” where merit took precedence over religion or country of origin. During 1525, the year previous to the famous victory at Mohacs, the Janissaries, who were rigid traditionalists, protested against Suleiman’s policy of tolerance, by trashing the Jewish quarter of Istanbul. Fortunately, Snezhana and I lived in the Beyoglu district, so we were not affected by this riot.

Thereafter, I worked, still, for the Ottoman Military Engineering Division, in the run-up to the planned campaign against the Kingdom of Hungary, already begun in the early 1520’s, with some of the victories I have mentioned (such as Sabac and Belgrade).

Since our ultimate goal was to take the Hungarian capital, Buda, my current work was focussed on designing innovative new siege machines and means of transport for the massive quantities of provisions and munitions that would be required. As mentioned, I had already designed the eighteen-wheeler, to carry the Bombards.

By the year 1526, our preparations were complete, and we prepared to make the journey of above 1300 kilometers to the battlefields of Hungary. With hundreds of cannon, and thousands of musket-bearing Janissaries, we anticipated victory against the foe, who relied on antiquated, heavily armored cavalry.

Note: Uziel Abreu died during the battle of Mohacs, where Ottoman forces finally vanquished the armies of the Kingdom of Hungary. At the time of his death, which was probably caused by either a heart attack or a stroke, Abreu was fifty-two years of age.