But it was too late. The janissaries who guarded me had already recognized him and could not restrain their cries of amazement and delight, though as a rule these men do not easily forget themselves and make it a point of honor to preserve impassive silence at all times. A crowd of others came to see what had happened, and soon the court resounded to excited chattering. I quickly gave the onbash the order to march and after only momentary hesitation he bowed, ordered four of his men to lift the bier, and took up his position in front of it, sending the other five on ahead to clear the way. Moslems have great respect for the One who severs all the bonds of friendship, and once we had left the courtyard we could make our way in peace, unmolested by passers-by.
We crossed the deserted Atmeidan and entered the Grand Vizier’s palace, where we laid the bier down before the famous clock in the great audience chamber. I was not at all surprised to see that the clock had at last stopped during the evening of the fatal Ides of March, Only a few frightened servants obeyed my angry summons and crept from their hiding places with bent heads. To them and to the eunuchs I gave orders that the Grand Vizier’s body should be arrayed in clean clothes and the face treated and colored to simulate the hues of life. Andy, meanwhile, went to find a hearse and a pair of horses.
While he was gone a dignitary sent by the Mufti arrived to announce in formal terms that burial in any of the Moslem graveyards of a protector of unbelievers and grand master of a heretic sect could on no account be permitted. This was an unforeseen difficulty, but while I was pondering what to do the young poet Baki arrived at the palace in tears, careless of the danger he ran by displaying grief for the death of a man disgraced. He told me that the dervishes would gladly allow the body to be laid at their sacred meeting place at Pera. if only to annoy the Mufti. I therefore sent him forward to arrange the matter with Murad-Asr/e£.
Andy returned from the coach houses where he had found only a hay wagon, as all the Grand Vizier’s state carriages had been removed for fear of the Sultan’s wrath. With curses and threats he had forced the terrified grooms to harness to this a pair of night-black horses that had been used at the funeral of the Sultan’s mother a year or two before. Then I chose the finest carpets and silken covers in the house and with Andy’s help transformed the wagon into a splendid hearse. When I had laid the body of the Grand Vizier upon it-leaving his face uncovered for all to see, for the skillful eunuch had given it back its former proud look-I sprinkled over it many flasks of rose water and also a pot of musk.
Having nothing to lose but my head, and that only once, I resolved to be thorough in my defiance of the Sultan’s wrath. Therefore I ordered plumes to be fastened to the horses’ heads and fine pepper to be sprinkled in their eyes until the poor beasts wept copious tears, as at the funerals of sultans. Encouraged by my boldness, two Negro grooms put on mourning and offered to lead the animals. So, by our resolute action, the procession soon moved of! from the courtyard, headed by the onbash. His eyebrows were drawn fiercely together, his mustaches stood out stiffly, and he strutted and swung his staff of office as if he were a subash, at least. Andy and I walked with slow steps immediately behind the wagon, and we were followed by a few of Ibrahim’s faithful old retainers.
In the meantime a crowd of silent onlookers had filled the Atmeidan, and had any ill-wisher taken it into his head to send agitators among them it might have gone badly with us. But all was deathly still; none dared molest us, and reverence for the dark, hovering wings held all decent Moslems motionless. Thus we crossed the Atmeidan unhindered, and the crowds fell in behind us until it seemed as if all Istanbul in deep, wordless grief meant to follow Grand Vizier Ibrahim to his grave.
At last we reached the great wall near the Adrianople Gate, where we turned our steps toward the shore and crossed the Arsenal Bridge to the Pera quarter, on the opposite side of the Golden Horn. The silent crowds halted at the bridge, but at the other end of it the dervishes were already waiting, led by Murad-Af‹?/f£, and beneath the sacred if somewhat notorious banner of their brotherhood they escorted us to their monastery at the top of the hill. Some of them whirled in wild mourning dances, while those with the shrillest voices sang laments. The professional mourning women who had long led the procession were now filled with emulous rivalry, scratching their faces till the blood flowed and tearing their hair as they uttered fiercer and fiercer howls.
Thus it was that contrary to all expectation the Grand Vizier’s funeral procession proved an effective spectacle and one worthy of his standing, despite the short time at our disposal. I fancy that Sultana Khurrem never bargained for such a thing, but rather hoped that the janissaries would desecrate the hated body in the forecourt and rend it in pieces, as had been known to happen before.
When the grave was dug and lined with the costly rugs and silks from the hay wagon, I took my lord Ibrahim’s body in my arms and laid him down for his last sleep, with his face toward the Holy City and his right hand under his cheek, that all requirements for a decent burial might be fulfilled. We then quickly filled in the grave, and to my delight the fragrance of musk floated up through the soil. Here on the mound I planted a young plane tree. Such trees live to be many hundreds of years old, and I hoped that this one would stand as a memorial to the Grand Vizier long after the capricious dervishes had abandoned the place.
With this I felt that my task was fully accomplished. I therefore took a tender leave of Murad-to7‹?£, thanking him for his friendship and calling down many blessings upon his head. My deaf-mute slave, who had followed the procession as inconspicuously as possible so as not to bring shame and ridicule upon it by his appearance, now approached and signed to me to hasten home. I began to suspect that his fellow mutes were awaiting me there, and turning to Andy I said, “Dear brother Andy, you must stay here among the dervishes and under the protection of the pious Murad-tseleb. This is my express order. Remember what I said to you last night. From now on your presence would be more trouble to me than it’s worth.”
Only such cold words as these could have kept him away from me and from danger. Crimson in the face he replied, “You could have taken leave of me in a kindlier way than that. But you were always headstrong, and I have always forgiven you your harshness. Go in peace, then, before I start to howl.”
When I came home, the janissaries still in attendance, it was not yet midday. The house was empty and silent and the slaves had fled. Only the Indian who tended the fish sat cross legged by the pool, seemingly plunged in meditation. I walked quietly upstairs and to my astonishment found Mirmah busily engaged in pouring ink over page after page of my half-finished translation of the Koran. My most precious books she had torn in pieces so that the floor was white with their leaves. She started when she saw me, then put her hands behind her and stared at me in defiance. I had never struck her, and perhaps she thought I would not do so now. I asked, “Why have you done this, Mirmah? I don’t think I ever did you any harm.”
She stared at me with a strange leer. Then, unable to contain herself any longer, she screamed with laughter and cried, “Down on the landing stage you’ll find a present that someone has thrown to you. That’s why everyone has run away. Go down and look.”
Full of forebodings I hurried down to the quay with the delighted Mirmah at my heels. But the janissaries had already found the body and the onbash was just turning the head with his foot to see the face. The body was naked, and so completely covered with blood that I thought at first the flayed carcass of an animal lay before me on the ground. The face was hard to recognize, as ears and nose had been cut away, the eyes put out, and the tongue gone from the gaping mouth. I had seen much in my life but never so gruesome and appalling a sight as this. I have no wish to describe all that had been done to the body. It would serve no purpose but to chase sleep from my eyes, though some years have passed since it happened. Nevertheless I summoned up all my resolution and bent down, and bit by bit I seemed to recognize familiar lines in that mutilated face. I noted the henna color of those soft hands and their well-cared-for, polished nails. My heart stood still and the blood turned to ice in my veins, for I saw that this was Mustafa ben-Nakir returned from his visit to the Seraglio. The eunuchs of the harem had thrown him on to my landing stage, having dealt with him as with all who are caught in the forbidden rooms.