Mika Waltari - The Wanderer

Khaireddin alone, from his base in Algeria, waged war upon him and won a great victory over Admiral Portundo, who was convoying the coronation guests on their return from Italy to Spain. For these noblemen and courtiers alone, Khaireddin extorted ransoms amounting to tens of thousands of ducats, though for Admiral Portundo himself he demanded only Captain Torgut in exchange. This officer had been taken prisoner by Christians and chained to a rower’s bench, where he had time to meditate upon the melancholy consequences of rash and foolhardy behavior.

I had my own share in this naval triumph, which gave striking proof of how formidable an opponent Khaireddin had become even for the united navies of the Emperor. Having carefully studied the situation and observed the scornful resentment felt by the sea pashas for this hero, whom they continued to regard as a barbarous and untrustworthy pirate, I sent word to Khaireddin in Algeria advising him to cease his futile raids on the coasts of Italy and Spain and instead attempt a real victory over the Emperor’s fleet. I also suggested that he should cease dyeing his beard. The Sultan’s sea pashas were all aged men, and in the Seraglio a long gray beard was regarded as the most convincing sign of experience and ability. As soon as news of the great victory reached the Seraglio I hired a young poet named Baki and a couple of street singers to compose and perform suitable verses in Khaireddin’s honor until his name was on everyone’s lips. In bazaar and bathhouse he was hailed as a light of Islam. His beard was reputed to reach to his waist, and the Prophet himself, they said, had appeared to him in a dream.

To restore the balance after his naval defeat the Emperor bestowed the island of Malta and the fortress of Tripoli upon the Knights of St. John. This was the severest blow that could have been dealt Khaireddin, and indeed the Sultan’s whole sea power, for having drifted hither and thither without firm foothold since the fall of Rhodes, these ruthless crusaders whom Mussulmans called bloodhounds of the seas became once more a menace to merchantmen and pilgrims. Their war galleys, also, continually patrolling the sea routes and convoying Christian vessels, would soon greatly hinder Khaireddin’s lawful traffic.

One day on returning home I was met at the gate by Alberto who ran up to me in his yellow eunuch’s dress and in a state of great agitation announced that Giulia’s labor pains had begun. These terrible tidings made me cry out in fear, for it was not more than seven months since I had returned from the war and so premature an infant could hardly be expected to survive.

Despite my medical experience I was no midwife, having practiced chiefly as an army surgeon, and reflecting now upon the delicate organism of a woman I felt ill equipped indeed. I was therefore greatly relieved to learn that the skillful Solomon had been sent for and was even now at Giulia’s side. As he had attended Sultana Khurrem at her confinements, I knew I could wish for no more competent man. He came out to the courtyard, his arms bloody to the elbows, and assured me cheerfully that all was going as well as could be expected. At his frightful appearance my knees turned to water; I exhorted him to do his best and promised him lavish presents if only my son might survive. But the honest Jew explained that he had been sent by Sultana Khurrem and that for certain reasons he could accept nothing from me. He wearied of me at last, saying that my woeful presence did more harm than good, and urged me to go for a brisk walk to restore the color to my cheeks.

In vain I told myself that millions and millions of boys had been born into the world before this one, many of them prematurely. I found no comfort. The sun was sinking behind the hills when like a thief I slunk back to Abu el-Kasim’s house, hoping to see some strange woman run joyfully toward me crying, “What will you give me for bringing you glad tidings?”

But I heard no joyous voices and the women squatted like crows in that silent house, avoiding my eyes. I feared the worst when Solomon came to me with a child in his arms and said in a tone of compassion, “It was not Allah’s will, Michael el-Hakim. It’s only a girl. But mother and child are well.”

I bent forward fearfully to look at the infant, and to my unspeakable joy perceived that she was no defective embryo, but fully developed and healthy, with a little dark down on her head. She opened her deep blue eyes and gazed at me from her paradise of innocence with a look that made me clap my hands and praise Allah for this miracle.

When Alberto saw how great was my relief he too smiled happily and wished me joy. Until then, no doubt, he had feared that being a Moslem I should find no delight in a daughter. When I again expressed my wonder at Giulia’s short pregnancy he assured me that he had heard of many similar cases, and cases also where the opposite had occurred. There had been for example a distinguished lady in Verona whose child was born eighteen months after the death of her husband. Therefore, said Alberto, not the most eminent physician could predict these events with certainty; so much depended on the physical structure of the woman and other circumstances, and perhaps even on the husband. Lowering his eyes respectfully he went on, “Voyages, campaigns, and pilgrimages, which impose long abstinence on a man, seem to increase his virility so that children engendered after such journeys come sooner into the world than most. Such at least is the opinion commonly held in Italy.”

In my great happiness I lost all my antipathy for Alberto, and indeed secretly pitied him because I had forced him to shave and assume the yellow robe of a eunuch. I therefore spoke kindly to him and let him admire the child in my arms. He pointed out how strongly she resembled me, until I soon saw that she had not only my chin but also my ears and nose, though what most delighted me was the perfection of her eyes. Both, like Giulia’s left one, were sapphire blue.

I care to say no more of this little daughter of mine, the touch of whose tiny fingers melted my heart as if it had been wax. For her sake I spoiled and pampered Giulia as she lay scolding me for all the things I forgot or left undone.

Because of some lingering weakness and to preserve the youthfulness of her breasts she insisted on my finding a wet nurse for the child, and from a Tartar in the bazaar I bought a Russian woman who was still suckling her year-old son. My mind misgave me that she would neglect my daughter and save most of her milk for her own boy, but when the Tartar offered to knock the child’s brains out without extra charge I could not agree to so godless an action, and consoled myself with the thought that I could keep the infant and train him up as a houseboy.

The purchase of the nurse was not the only great expense incurred at that time, for when the house that Sinan had designed, with all Giulia’s alterations and additions, began at last to rise on the sloping shore of the Bosphorus, I was appalled at its size. All unknown to me it had grown and grown until now it was almost as large as the palaces of the agas. Giulia’s vanity further demanded that the whole property should be enclosed by a high stone wall-the principal mark of distinction in a house. I went in deadly fear as Sinan presented even longer and longer reckonings, though he employed young azamogh- lans from the janissary school for the work and I was permitted to buy the building materials through the Defterdar’s treasury at the Sultan’s price.

Long before we moved into our mansion I had to buy two Negroes as boatman and gardener’s boy, and of course a Greek head gardener. Giulia dressed the Negroes in red and green with silver belts, and as the gardener swore by all the Greek saints that he had never encountered two such lazy and impudent blacks as these I had also to buy a meek Italian boy to help him. So large a household required a cook, the cook required a slave girl, and the slave girl needed a woodcutter and a water carrier to help her, until at last I felt as if I were being sucked down into a whirlpool.