Maritsa. I hope not too many were rescued, however, or funds will give out before we reach even Buda.”
The sun shone. After the three days’ fast the milk felt warm in my stomach and the good silver coins were agreeably heavy. Neither the Sultan nor the Grand Vizier appeared discouraged at the losses sustained by the army; on the contrary they laughed aloud and gaily welcomed the groups of survivors that were still coming ashore. Yet their seeming cheerfulness was but a custom, to encourage the troops after any reverse; and a good custom it was, for no sooner had I taken my money than I too began to make little of the sufferings I had undergone. Three pillars had been set up on the hillside, on each of which a head had been placed. Some of the rescued men amused themselves by pulling the beards of these; for they were the heads of three pashas whom the Seraskier held responsible for choosing the camping place and whom he beheaded, to propitiate the Sultan and to keep his favor.
My guide brushed the mud from his kaftan and told me to fetch the new clothes that the Sultan had promised me, and then go to the road builders’ tent to await further orders from the Grand Vizier. But Andy turned his steps resolutely toward the field kitchens and I was compelled to go with him, for he had me by the arm. The cooks were easily identified by their white aprons and caps, and Andy addressed them respectfully, saying that he felt a little hungry; but they bade him join his father in the nethermost pit. Resenting this, Andy first assured himself that the broth in one of the cauldrons was not yet scalding, then seized the nearest cook by the ears and plunged his head into it. Next, lifting him out and holding him high in the air he said mildly, “Perhaps another time you’ll treat a grown man like a man and not like a naughty boy.”
The cooks raised a great outcry and brandished their carving knifes, but as Andy still stood firm and massive as a block of granite, pointing first to his mouth and then to his belly, they came like wise men to the conclusion that they would most easily be rid of him by giving him the food he asked for.
We sat down to eat, and Andy so gorged himself that afterward he could hardly move. He made a few feeble attempts and then stretched himself on his back; I, exhausted by three days and nights of exposure, laid my head on his stomach and fell into the deepest sleep of my whole life.
I fancy I must have slept the clock round, for when aroused at last by a great need to make water, I had no idea where I was and thought I had been carried on board a rolling vessel. But on raising my head I found myself comfortably reclining in a litter borne by four horses. Beside me on a down cushion sat a youngish, thoughtful- looking man who, seeing me awake, laid aside the book he was studying and greeted me kindly, saying, “Guardian angels have watched over you and shielded you from evil. Have no fear, for you’re in good hands. I am Sinan the Builder, one of those in charge of the Sultan’s road makers. You’re appointed to be my interpreter in the Christian lands, which, if Allah so wills, we are to conquer.”
I noted that I had been dressed in new clothes, but having hurriedly assured myself that I still had my purse I could think of nothing but my immediate need, and said, “Let us leave all phrase making, O Sinan the Builder, and order your men to rein in the horses, lest I wet your valuable cushions.”
Sinan the Builder, who had been brought up in the Seraglio, was not at all offended. Raising the cover of a round hole in the floor he said, “In such matters slave and monarch are equal. May it remind us that on the Last Day the Compassionate will make no distinction between high and low.”
In other circumstances I might better have appreciated this tactful speech, but now I could not spare the time to listen. Having eased myself, however, I turned to him again to find him regarding me with a frown, and I begged him to forgive my unseemly conduct. He said, “I don’t complain of your conduct, but because of your great haste I had no time to turn away my head and so observed to my horror that you’re uncircumcised. Can you be a Christian spy?”
Dismayed at the result of my negligence I greeted him hurriedly in the name of the Compassionate, professed my faith in Allah the one God and in Mohammed his Prophet, and recited the first sura to prove myself a true believer. I added, “I have submitted to the will of Allah and taken the turban, but a strange destiny has tossed me hither and thither and allowed me neither time nor opportunity to undergo that unpleasant operation. I will gladly tell you my story and so convince you of my sincerity, but must beg you not to betray the omission to others, for it may be the will of Allah that I should serve the Sultan and the Grand Vizier as I am.”
He answered smiling, “We have a long journey before us, and I enjoy instructive stories, but your words are too glib to be true. However, if the Grand Vizier knows your secret I have no reason to mistrust you.”
Slightly more composed I replied, “The Grand Vizier knows me and all about me, though he must have more important things to think of than the circumcision of a slave.”
“I’m no bigot,” he rejoined, “and won’t conceal from you that I too have a secret sin; then neither of us need feel superior to the other.”
He brought out a beautifully painted little keg and filled two mugs, handing one to me. I gladly swallowed the wine, believing that the burden of my sin would not be gravely increased thereby. I had often broken this rule before, and many interpreters of the law were of the opinion that repetition of a sin was no aggravation-that on the Last Day a hardened toper would receive no worse punishment than he who drank for the first time, knowing it to be sinful. We preserved polite silence in that swaying litter, and in the shade of its awning enjoyed the glow that coursed through our veins and to our eyes enhanced the colors of the landscape. At length I said, “I feel no concern for the morrow. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof and everything that comes to pass is in accordance with the will of Allah. It’s from mere human curiosity that I now ask you whither we’re bound?”
Sinan the Builder answered readily, “We’re to cross the rivers of Serbia, my native land, and must hasten, for tomorrow the janissaries will march and after them the spahis, and for every day’s delay on the timetable my chief, the road makers’ pasha, must lose an inch of his beard. When his beard has gone, his head must follow. Therefore he is liberal with punishments among his subordinates. Pray that the sun may shine and the wind may dry the roads, for a single shower might shorten many men by a head.”
I now had nothing to complain of. We traveled in swift comfort by night and day, and at fixed stages along our route fresh horses were in readiness, and food, and relays of akindshas to guide us. When any hitch occurred, Sinan the Builder had the culprits flogged without mercy. I pitied these poor men and chided Sinan for his sternness, but he replied, “I myself am an unassuming man, but an important task has been assigned to me and it would be foolish to tire myself needlessly or go hungry. I must conserve all my strength for work which I alone among all these men can do. Our greatest obstacle will be the river Drava, which now lies straight ahead of us. Hitherto, whenever spring floods have swept away the bridges there, not the devil himself has been able to build new ones until late in the summer. Yet I must build one now.”
We did not make straight for our goal, however, but in obedience to orders brought by express messengers made one detour after another. Sinan the Builder marked the altered routes on his maps and sent his men ahead to mark the fords and throw booms across them as a measure of safety for those who lost their footing in the current. His courage was beyond question, for he never relied entirely on the scouts’ reports, but waded out into the icy water himself, staff in hand, to test the bottom and direct the placing of stones where it was soft. Several times the current swept him off his feet and he had to be hauled ashore by a lifeline.
On reaching the Sava River he sent his men in their thousands to the woods to fell trees, or to the riverside to saw planks; wherever he appeared order and discipline took the place of chaos. But once again the heavens opened and floodwaters scoured away his works as if they had been spiders’ webs. Rain fell in torrents from leaden skies, and when Sinan the Builder saw the river grow to a thundering cataract he calmed himself, sent his men to shelter, and ordered the slaughter of many sheep and heifers, saying, “Eat, drink, and rest until the rain stops, for nothing happens contrary to the will of Allah and the Sultan can hardly be in a greater hurry than the Merciful and Compassionate. Though the delay should cost me my head, I rejoice, for that head aches with figures and plans, and I cannot sleep at night for thinking of the bridge I must throw across the river Drava when we reach it.”
Sinan the resolute, who had spared neither himself nor his men, now burst into tears of exhaustion. I put him to bed in the ferryman’s hut and gave him hot wine to drink, so that he slept at last. In his sleep he babbled of a great mosque that he would build, whose like the world had never seen.
For five days the rain came down in sheets, and with my friend Sinan I suffered all the agonies of delay, pacing back and forth over the floor of the little hut. At any
