Chapter 104
Playing with Fire (1)
It had only been about a year since Yusuf ascended to the throne as Sultan, which is a rather short time to make a significant mark on the world stage.
In the West, where the occult was popular, he was seen as the infidel king who predicted earthquakes—a juicy gossip.
In the Islamic world, including the Mamluks, he was viewed as a heretic who slandered the Quran and Muhammad, playing the role of a false prophet.
The shocking prediction of an earthquake took precedence over Yusuf’s personal abilities, making it the current focus of evaluation.
However, the Safavid faction feared Yusuf more as a ruler than as a prophet.
That was because they had a history with him since his time as a Sanjakbey.
—The Ottoman Army led by the Sultan will soon invade!
Who would welcome the news of their homeland becoming a battlefield? But it was even more unsettling knowing that Yusuf was at the helm of the enemy forces.
He was not only the only one to stain Ismail, who was revered like a god, but also the one responsible for devastating Erzinjan to Diyarbakır during the invasion of the Dulqadir principalities.
Prioritizing widespread destruction meant there were no mass killings, leaving countless refugees and resulting in great chaos.
For a time, the western Safavid region became so lawless due to bandits and beggars that the resurfacing of this chaos was bound to trigger trauma.
“You worthless Georgians.”
Nuri Ali Khalifa, the one governing Diyarbakır, crumpled the paper he was holding.
The information contained was that the Ottoman Army, having completed their Georgia campaign, was gathering troops and supplies in Akhaltsikhe.
“If only we could hold out for just two more months!”
Summer was gradually coming to an end, and if a little more time were drawn out, winter would arrive, making rash movements impossible.
That was the only hope he had, but with Georgia falling, even that expectation had vanished.
Nuri Ali, with a fierce glare, questioned his subordinate.
“How’s the preparation for the devastation?”
“It’s ready, but the resistance from the subjects is quite fierce. We’ve already lost over twenty soldiers.”
“Resistance is to be expected.”
After all, a scorched earth operation could not avoid facing the resistance of the subjects living there, and Nuri Ali’s region had only just recovered from Yusuf’s devastation.
Naturally, facing a renewed destruction meant they would encounter extreme resistance.
‘That’s why I wanted to prepare as quietly as possible.’
Though he had moved cautiously, the news of preparing for a scorched earth operation spread faster than he could control.
As if someone were manipulating events from behind the scenes.
“Those dirty tricks are still at play.”
The Safavid high command was well aware that Yusuf often employed incitement and fabrication.
When Ismail seized Tabriz and became Shah, Yusuf was almost certainly the one who spread rumors to put him in a difficult position.
Considering he pulled that off at merely thirteen years old, it was honestly terrifying.
Now, with more experience, one could only imagine the more sinister tactics he would employ.
No matter how serpentine the opposition was, what had to be done was clear, and Nuri Ali decisively commanded.
“We are merely tools following the Shah’s will. We must always be ready to follow the Shah’s directives without losing our wits.”
“Understood.”
With a solemn expression, his subordinate left, leaving an ominous tension in the Safavid lands.
While people flocked to the mosque in a bid to overcome their fears, it seemed that disaster was nearing, as if it were poised to strike.
*
The army was a monstrous entity that consumed vast amounts of resources.
To feed an army of 50,000 soldiers, including cavalry led by Yusuf, for a month, more than 15,000 camels would be needed.
This accounted for food alone, and considering supplies, the scale became even greater.
‘Supplying an expedition is much more challenging.’
When troops moved domestically, they received supplies from food warehouses set up across the Ottoman Empire, and any shortfall was supplemented through local purchases.
However, once crossing into enemy territory, this was impossible, and carrying out a scorched earth operation would make local procurement unfeasible, necessitating solid preparations.
“O Padishah, what should we do about the merchants that have come to us?”
“They truly have a keen nose for the smell of money.”
By eliminating all the aristocracy in Georgia, they caused an administrative vacuum but seized hundreds of years’ worth of their wealth, profiting immensely.
It wasn’t just Yusuf who had fattened his pockets; the soldiers who had seized loot were in similar circumstances.
It was no wonder merchants gathered like a swarm of locusts.
“Alright, do we have any supplies that we can buy?”
“We currently have enough food prepared for about a month. More can be gathered, of course.”
“But we lack transportation means.”
“Indeed.”
In the humid Balkan Peninsula, the Ottomans moved supplies by oxen and horses, while in the east, camels were primarily utilized. These camels were not typically obtained through conscription.
They were acquired through purchase and leasing, making it difficult to easily increase their numbers.
If the number of camels increased, managing them would have also become harder.
“We have enough supplies for a month at this point, but I doubt they realize that.”
When passing through Safavid lands, the necessary duration was about a month.
Even if Ismail were to give up the scorched earth plan and attempt an invasion, he could at least compensate to some extent by looting nearby.
However, this was a fact only the military command knew.
“Yes, there is a strong possibility they will follow to sell their needed supplies.”
When an army moves, it’s not just soldiers that move; many merchants move alongside them as well.
These war merchants travel with the army, supplying food, weapons, and equipment while profiting.
“Tell them to follow if they mean to. They won’t listen to reason anyway.”
“The greed of merchants is indeed hard to restrain.”
Even during the Crusades, these merchants traded regardless of religion as long as money was involved.
Though agreeing with Yusuf’s cynical view, Şemsi cautiously spoke.
“However, if they end up making a lost investment in this war, they might harbor resentment.”
“Let it be. Merchants are bound to stick around again once the scent of money returns, even if they have complaints.”
Even if it were just the seventeenth century, they might have been a bit cautious.
The strength of Middle Eastern merchants, particularly Armenians, would grow immensely over the following two hundred years, eventually leading to the overthrow of a Sultan by the eighteenth century.
But that would be an affair of the future; there was no need for cautious maneuvering now.
“And if it comes to actually fighting Ismail, they may prove useful.”
“Then I shall permit the merchants to follow.”
Yusuf gazed outside the castle with a relaxed expression.
Soldiers preparing for the imminent war, merchants hawking their wares, and supply squads hauling cannons, food, and carts.
Everything was ready to depart at a moment’s notice.
“Şemsi Pasha, the heat is beginning to wane. I’d rather not spend the winter in the cold fields.”
Yusuf turned his head south and continued speaking.
“Inform the entire army: we depart in three days.”
“Yes, O Padishah!”
Having received the order, Şemsi left, and Yusuf contemplated his formidable adversary, Ismail.
In history, Selim had triumphed over Ismail, but he did not seize much territory.
Dissatisfaction among the Janissaries was significant, and there were concerns about rebellions from pro-Shiite factions within the Ottomans.
“But I am different from you, Selim, Ismail.”
While Selim failed to win true loyalty, Yusuf managed the Janissaries well.
There was only one point of concern: there were still a few followers of Ismail remaining within the Ottomans.
Tenacious as cockroaches, but one couldn’t blame them.
He was a ruler charming enough to be revered as a god.
“So, before the main game begins, I’ll gnaw away at your reputation.”
With a dreadful smile, Yusuf turned away.
Three days passed, and the drums signaling the march echoed.
The time had come to face unreasonable choices.
*
Ismail, seated on the throne of Tabriz, coldly regarded the one who approached him.
Unlike his sunburnt face from the scorching steppe, the visitors had pale red faces.
“Are you really trying to give that as an excuse now?”
His low voice felt like a knife poised at the throat of the envoy from Venice.
Having gone through countless battles and slaughtered enemies, Ismail’s deadly aura was too gruesome for a mere envoy to brush aside casually.
“P-please calm down. We couldn’t know the Shah’s will because no envoy returned. At least we moved our fleet late, didn’t we?”
“Indeed you did. After having ruined everything.”
Ismail fiddled with a small dagger, glaring at the envoy.
The rage boiling inside him at the thought of trusting such people and being misled brought overwhelming fury.
Rising from his seat, Ismail approached the envoy and drew the dagger.
Slurp
“O Shah, O your majesty.”
As Ismail drew the blade across his palm, blood flowed freely onto the envoy’s white garments.
Shaking in the nauseating scent of blood, the envoy met Ismail’s gaze.
“Don’t forget, because of you, my ten thousand brothers have died in vain.”
“Of course. Our Venice will do our utmost to assist the Shah.”
With the envoy releasing the fabric he had been grasping in a fit of desperation, Ismail resumed his throne.
“We will stand firm against the Ottoman offensive. So do not forget your promise. This is the last chance I grant you.”
“Understood. This time, we will surely keep our promise.”
“Leave now.”
Once given permission, the envoy fled in a panic, and Ismail silently glared at him for a while.
Ismail’s most cherished subordinate, Muhammad Khan Ustajlu, wrapped a cloth around Ismail’s wounded hand with his turban.
“You bore it well.”
“Even killing that pig-like being won’t repay the wrongs done to my fallen brothers.”
Suppressing rising disgust, Ismail grasped his aching hand and spoke.
“So, the Ottoman army has begun to mobilize?”
“Yes. The Ottoman army that departed from Akhaltsikhe is moving toward Yerevan.”
Yerevan, located in the Armenian region, was a key city and was close enough to Tabriz that a courier could arrive in less than three days.
This meant it was a city that absolutely had to be defended.
“O Shah, do we really commence the scorched earth operation?”
“There is only one choice we can make.”
If he did not initiate the scorched earth operation, that scoundrel Yusuf would truly put a blade to his neck.
Having retreated from Trabzon and with Yusuf moving unnaturally composed for his age, Ismail had to choose the option thrust upon him.
“There will be no change in the plan. Burn everything to prevent it from falling into enemy hands.”
“Following the Shah’s orders.”
With Ustajlu departing, Ismail was left alone, gnashing his teeth.
A heavy sense of defeat washed over him.
*
With a perfect victory in Georgia, Yusuf’s forces were brimming with morale, and the march proceeded without impediment.
When Yusuf’s army arrived near Gumri, within the Armenian region, they were greeted by thick black smoke.
Farms turned to ashes and abandoned villages lay in ruins.
Looking upon a region where not even a single grain could be salvaged, Yusuf’s lips curled up.
“A delightful game of fire is beginning.”
A game of fire that tightened its grip around Ismail’s throat.