While she mused on this with pathos, Safiye continued, “And since the army has gone north, not south, it seems clear Sokolli Pasha does not mean to try and pacify things there so he can build his canal in Egypt.”
Esmikhan shrugged helplessly. “I thought they were talking about canals.”
I was quite amazed at how closely Safiye’s thoughts followed the actual discussion. It was almost frightening how little had avoided first assimilation into her mind, and then the acuteness of her conclusions. As a matter of fact, however, Esmikhan was right. The major topic of discussion had been canals. Lala Mustafa Pasha, the Second Vizier, had interests in Syria and Egypt and he had spoken almost word for word those arguments we had just heard Safiye give to try to persuade the army to march in full force against Yemen that year. The Mufti, too, spoke in favor of saving the Holy Cities from falling into the hands of the Yemeni heretics.
But then my master had produced a great old book, one of the many I often saw him pouring over late at night when nerves wouldn’t let him sleep. It was in Greek, at which the Mufti had coughed and declared, “A godless tongue “but Sokolli Pasha had insisted on translating for them anyway.
“In the days of the Empire of Alexander the Great, a man named Seleucus Nicator had proposed the building of a canal between the Don and Volga Rivers.”
“Worse than a Christian,” the Mufti had said. “A pagan.”
Lala Mustafa Pasha, a man addicted to power, had been more cautious once someone had pronounced the magic, tantalizing words “Empire of Alexander the Great.” Still he had questioned, “What would be the use of such a canal in such a faraway land? It would take years to build, and to what purpose?”
“It would not take so long as all that,” Sokolli Pasha had insisted. “There is a point where the two rivers come within but thirty thousand paces of each other. A man can walk that in a day and the ground between them is all but level.”
“I still do not see to what purpose this is.”
Sokolli Pasha had pulled out a map and showed them. “The River Don flows into the Black Sea, easily accessible to us here in Constantinople. Our ships could sail up the river, across the canal, and into the Volga which flows into...”
“The Caspian Sea!” Lala Mustafa had exclaimed for himself. “Which puts us right at the heart of...”
“Persia!”
“Exactly. Remember how many men we have lost over the years because of the dangerous and rugged crossing that must now be made across land, through Armenia and Kurdistan. Any time we wish to fight Persia, we must lose so many men, untold animals and supplies—and time!—all before we even see their banners flying. Two months, more or less, coming and going each time. And that’s once the snows have melted somewhat.”
“And we never had much success getting heavy cannon and artillery through the mountain passes,” Lala Mustafa had admitted.
“What rejoicing there would be in heaven and on earth ii we could make the heretic Persians submit to the true Sunna!” Even the Mufti had seen the logic of the plan.
“Not only that, but beyond Persia—access to the Volga leads us right into the heart of Asia. It would be a water route almost equal to that to be gained by splicing the Suez, with less strain and manpower. The benefits of such a monopoly would make our land rich for all centuries to come.”
“Allah willing,” the Mufti had been careful to interject.
“Such a project would mean we’d have to control Astrakhan,” Lala Mustafa had mused.
“Yes,” Sokolli had agreed. “Once the proud, strong land of the Tartars, our brothers both in faith and in the Turkish tongue. Ten years ago Astrakhan fell to the Russian barbarians. The dead remain unavenged, the captives still in chains, and our cities full of the refugees charity cannot support, vet who have lost the land of their fathers so they cannot support themselves, nor send us the rich gifts they were wont to.”
“They will fight like demons for their land,” Lala Mustafa had agreed, “and they will willingly join us in building the canal. Afterwards I don’t think they would be at all opposed to increasing the tribute gifts in order to gain the privilege of joining their rich land to our empire.”
It had not taken much more talk for the plan to find unanimous favor and the blessing of all. I knew all of this as I watched Safiye probe my mistress for details she couldn’t remember, but I said nothing. Esmikhan, too, soon lost patience and tried to change the subject.
“Where is my sweet little nephew, Muhammed, Safiye?”
“Oh, somewhere inside. I’m sure his nurse is taking good care of him.”
“How is his little cheek healing? Will there be a scar?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Allah defend him!” Esmikhan exclaimed in sympathy.
“My dear, there is nothing either you or I can do about it now,” Safiye said impatiently, “so you might as well help me find out what you can about the army’s movements this year. It does make me angry when your husband keeps things a secret like this.”
“No doubt he is afraid of spies.”
“No doubt, but I am not a spy. My interest is all with the Ottomans. I have the future of my son to think about.”
“It seems to me you might do better for your son if you were with him more.” Esmikhan said this cautiously. She was still very much in awe of Safiye, for all their years of friendship. Beautiful women can have that effect on their own sex as well as on men. Eunuchs alone can learn immunity, and that only with concentrated effort.
“When—if Allah wills—my son grows to be a man, he will be the Sultan. He will have to know about the Divan and janissaries and war—all such things. Allah willing, he will
