Wednesday, 24th September 1534 / 941 H
Iraq Al-Ajam, Basrah
POV: 3rd person
The state chamber was quiet except for the slow hiss of oil lamps. Summer had dragged for months, but tonight its weight felt lighter.
Ibrahim read through the report in his palms.
"…administration in Hamadan is complete. Our officials have successfully built a functioning system throughout the recently conquered provinces of Iraq. That leaves us with integrating the local populace into our Daulah."
"Good. Inform the Ulamas in Anatolia and Rumelia to send their trusted disciples here. Allocate funds from the treasury for their travel and lodging. Ensure a madrasah complex is constructed in every provincial capital." The sultan issued his orders without hesitation.
"As you command, Your Majesty. How much time shall the governors receive to complete this directive?" Ibrahim asked, writing quickly.
"The madrasah complexes must be completed by the middle of the second year. Upon completion, investigators from the capital will assess their quality before they are opened." Suleiman paused before continuing. "As for the Ulama, palace officials will oversee them. Choose officials who were educated under their tutelage to ease the process. If an Ulama declines the invitation, present the usual two counter offers."
"To confirm, Your Majesty: the first option is a donation to their existing madrasah, and the second is to recommend another Da'i in their place?" Ibrahim asked.
"Correct. There is no need to impose our will on the teachers of the Daulah, but a compromise must be reached. Now, what of the borders? Have the forts been regarrisoned?" Suleiman unfolded a map and set a wooden pointer beside Ibrahim.
"In accordance with Your Majesty's instructions, garrison armies have been assigned to the eastern chokepoints facing the Safavids," Ibrahim replied, lifting the pointer.
"In the north, Ulugh Pasha is stationed at Shalus, east of Rasht. He commands 3,000 infantry, 500 cavalry, and 250 artillerymen operating twenty-five mobile cannons." Ibrahim indicated the city pressed between the Khazar Sea and the Elburz Mountains.
"Yes… I recall him. He served under you at Tabriz, did he not?" Suleiman asked.
"He did, Your Majesty. I can attest to his competence in defensive command. With him at Rudsar and with God's will, our northern provinces will remain secure."
"God's will. Now, the Kavir desert. Our forces are in Varamin. Who has replaced Halim Pasha as commander?"
"With Halim Pasha appointed as an instructor to the capital's military academy, command was transferred to Razi Pasha. The Hamadan garrison numbers 7,000 infantry, 1,200 cavalry, and sixty cannons." Ibrahim pointed to a city wedged between the Kavir desert and the Elburz mountains.
"Additionally, our southern garrisons are divided between Yusuf Ziya Pasha at Isfahan and Kara Ali Pasha at Behbahan." He indicated both cities east of Basrah.
"A suitable choice. With commanders of Persian descent, the local populace will adapt more readily to our rule."
"Indeed, Your Majesty. If I may, I propose we extend our road construction programs into these provinces. The benefits in Anatolia, Rumelia, and Misir have been substantial." Ibrahim set down the pointer before picking up his ledger
"It is worth considering. However, we must secure the necessary funds first." Suleiman leaned back slightly. "Praise be to God. Integration can finally begin. It has been a long campaign. Now - has there been progress on the Iron Atolye project?"
"There has, Your Majesty," Ibrahim replied. "The Jiao clan has accepted our proposal."
That earned a brief nod from the sultan. "Good. Remind me of the terms. The repeated negotiations have been taxing."
Ibrahim opened his ledger.
"The forge at Basrah becomes an imperial industry owned by the Daulah. The clan retains leadership, but the nation legally owns the company. The empire funds construction and materials, wages, and security. In return, the Jiao forges produce steel tools for the state first, and they are not to operate for foreign powers, even allies of the state unless instructed."
"Good, with their leadership the Iron Atolye will prosper" Suleiman said.
"Yes," Ibrahim confirmed. "As part of the deal they'll have to open 23 new workshops across the Daulah within one year and operating on the second. They also wanted assurances they wouldn't lose their current trade. So, the last term gave them the right to open shops selling their civilian goods while their main industry serves the state."
"That's good, carry on, I remember discussing a research budget, what of it?" Suleiman asked.
"Split in 2 parts," Ibrahim said. "One half is allocated for state research. The other part supports the clan's own research ideas. But all results—designs, methods, new steel formulas—officially belong to the Daulah."
Suleiman nodded slowly, absorbing it. "Not the most perfect of terms for them. But enough for compromise."
"Exactly," Ibrahim said. "But there's one concern left. The clan fears losing unity when they spread to 23 cities. Their patriarch only has a single descendant, his unwed daughter."
Suleiman frowned slightly, matters like this could cause the Iron Atolye to fall apart due to succession conflicts "Ah. And the daughter?"
"The daughter is capable," Ibrahim said. "Trained in forging, trade, even warfare from their mercenary years. "
Suleiman blinked. "Forging and trade, I understand. But warfare? Where would a blacksmith's daughter learn such things?"
"The Jiao were once royal blacksmiths in China. During a civil war, they fled. They later fought as mercenaries in Hindustan, the Malacca's in particular—hired steel for warring nations—before sailing the Indian ocean and settling here in Basrah to continue their trade."
"Continuing on, the patriarch is a man of family. He doesn't want to force his daughter into a marriage, so he requests you to meet with her."
Suleiman let out a sigh and shook his head, not angry, just thinking through it.
"And earlier," Ibrahim added, "you mentioned dealing with the future succession at the capital. A third party among your majesty's main consorts could ease tensions later."
Suleiman looked up at that. Then smiled again, faint but sincere.
"In regards of my wives," he said, correcting Ibrahim, "Hürrem Sultan and Mahidevran Sultan are wise, loyal, and devoted to the Daulah in their own ways. They have given me strong sons. Their place is secure, and their influence respected. I do not see politics when I see them. I see the pillars of my house."
Ibrahim nodded respectfully. "Of course, Your Majesty. No one doubts their value. I only meant that a new power could strengthen the scale, not imbalance its weights."
"Also, Your Majesty," Ibrahim continued, "your sons have begun to openly rival one another. If there is no third force to maintain balance, a civil war may erupt the moment you pass. Ending in fratricide"
The sultan was quiet for a moment, then gave a short nod.
"Very well. I'll write to her. We meet no one tonight. Tell the patriarch I'll speak to his daughter in the garden outside the Al-Sarraji Masjid at dawn after Subuh prayer."
Ibrahim stood and bowed his head briefly. "Then I'll leave you to your letters, Your Majesty."
"Go," Suleiman said. "And Ibrahim…"
"Yes?"
"Good work in the north. Your contributions in this summer campaign are immeasurable."
"Thank you, your majesty, but you have rewarded me enough. The victory is a result of the Daulah's soldiers"
Suleiman waved a hand, smiling. "True. Now go. The next siege, hopefully, is paperwork, not walls."
Clack Clack Thud
The doors shut behind him - firm oak sealing off the summer heat.
Suleiman stared at the closed door a while longer.
"…Fratricide," he muttered. "Just like in my Drushti, history warped so badly some think it was once law." He snorted. "I will write a new law, before fools make it truth."
Thursday, 25th September 1534 / 941 H
Iraq Al-Ajam, Basrah
POV: 3rd person
Clack Clack
The morning streets of Basrah were void of their usual bustle. Instead, a surreal rhythm of sandals tapping against stone and the chilled whisper of dawn wind filled the empty lanes.
From the Al-Sarraji Masjid, people left in small groups, families wrapped in the serenity of Subuh prayer. The dimness before sunrise cast a strange, calming hush over every heart awake at that hour.
In the courtyard, Suleiman sat at a round table. Across from him, a woman in distinct Cin attire coupled with a hijab sipped her tea with grace. Not far away, her father watched them both with an unblinking, hawk-like gaze.
By the heavens… what is that stare? You arranged this meeting, old man.
"Ahem. I apologize for my father's behaviour," the woman said, breaking the silence. "He is… very protective of me."
"Ah, I see. I have heard much of his devotion to his family."
"Indeed. It comes from our years as mercenaries. Those experiences taught us to trust few."
"About that… could you tell me more of your hometown lady Jiao Yueling? The lands of Cin remain a mystery to me for news travels quite slowly."
"I would love to tell the stories of my homeland." Jiao Yueling paused, then added, "In return, may I ask you a few questions?"
"That depends. Through the years I've learned not to agree to conditions blindly. So, pray tell, what is it?"
"Is that so? Then will a hint suffice, your majesty?" she asked, tone a little playful.
"It might." He answered, tone equally playful.
"The… actions of the Daulah intrigue me. I only wish for elaboration."
"For matters of state, I'll answer anything you wish. Provided you won't be bored," he said lightly.
A soft laugh escaped her. After a breath, she began.
"For decades, the Jiao clan has served the Ming emperors with steel blades and spears." An aide refilled her cup as she continued. "Our position in the dynasty was high. Though without official rank, our craftsmanship earned the emperor's protection."
"I see," Suleiman said, listening closely.
"I was born on the first day of the Rat year. A symbol of intellect and wealth. Because of that, many pitied that I was born a girl, for my father had no son to inherit the clan."
Suleiman's eyebrows drew together.
"Or they would have pitied me," she said. "Knowing how people would treat me, my parents told the clan I was a boy. Celebrations erupted. Even Ming officials rejoiced."
"And what did they plan to do when you came of age?" he asked softly.
"I never knew. But because of that lie, I received the finest education in craft and trade. In private, my mother let me drop the mask. She allowed me to rest, to wear dresses, to sing, to paint, or just laze around." Her smile warmed. "Father loved my paintings. Sometimes he took me outside the capital to capture scenery with him."
Her words settled into the quiet courtyard, rippling through the still air. A breeze fluttered her hijab, and the dim dawn softened the curve of her expression. Suleiman felt something gentle pull at him.
"Then I hope you can paint memories," he said quietly.
"Hmm… and why is that?"
"For the sight before me deserves not to be buried in the mind of one person alone."
"You jest, your majesty." She laughed lightly. "You'll have many opportunities to witness this scene again."
"Hopefully… though such moments would only be shared if you chose to stand beside me in marriage."
She didn't reply, only glanced at him briefly before looking back at the horizon.
Jiao let the wind settle the mood. "Well then… shall we return to the matter at hand? I've spoken my part, your majesty. Allow me now to ask two questions."
He nodded, inviting her to continue.
"First, the obvious one. What is your goal in forming this contract between my clan and the Daulah?"
"That is simple. Tactics and valour win battles," Suleiman said, tapping the table softly. "But wars are carried on the backs of supply carts. The Iron Atolye will allow mass production of equipment and help me prosper the nation."
"How so?" Jiao leaned forward, intrigued.
"When the populace is poor, what is there to tax? But if production rises—tools, metals, goods—so does prosperity. And prosperous people strengthen the treasury and support the crown."
"I see. No wonder your delegate agreed so easily," she said, leaning back with a small huff.
"Indeed. And beyond logistics, the profits will enrich the Daulah."
"I wonder… where did your majesty get this idea?" she teased knowingly.
"The concept isn't new." He chuckled. "News from the far east speaks of craftsmen forming institutions that earn enormous profits. I merely refined the idea and placed it under state patronage."
She rolled her eyes. "With such advantages, I assume more state-owned collective workshops will follow. And will you tie their families to marriage too?"
"Fear not. I shall make sure the families lack talented beautiful unwed daughters," he teased.
She exhaled through her nose, resisting a smile.
"Joking aside," he added, "I must see how the Iron Atolye fares first. Building twenty-three workshops is no small feat not to mention whether they will actually profit or not."
"Hmm… so we are the experimental rabbit of his majesty's project?" she said with a sly grin.
"…You may word it so." He cleared his throat, choosing not to take the bait further. "Shall we move on to your second question?"
Jiao laughed softly at his escape.
"To be honest… my second question is more of a selfish request." She steadied herself. "Would you ever consider extending your interests toward the far east? Years away have left me yearning for my homeland."
"…That is difficult," he said, looking into her green eyes. "I cannot promise expansion into Cin. Nor do I think you want that."
"God forbid. As much as I miss my childhood lands, I would never wish them harmed by foreign war."
Suleiman nodded.
"A diplomatic expedition might be possible. But the journey is long, and I cannot predict whether the current regime would welcome outsiders. After all the dynasts of Cin are known for their policy of Isolationism"
"I understand…" Her gaze dipped, disappointment flickering briefly. She drew a breath and rose with grace. "Thank you, your majesty, for humouring me. I will let my father inform you of my decision. May Allah grant you health."
"It has been a pleasure. Your presence has been refreshing," he said with a nod.
"And yours as well, your majesty. Please excuse me."
She crossed the courtyard to her father. Their exchange was brief, before she turned and walked away. While watching them, Suleiman felt a tug of realization.
Ah… I never asked her about her years as a mercenary… or how she found Islam. And her identity being exposed as a woman… there's a story buried there.
When Jiao Yueling finally stepped out of sight, her father approached Suleiman. The Jiao patriarch's expression shifted from guarded caution to respectful warmth.
"Your majesty, thank you for accepting my invitation. I hope the meeting went well."
"It was… memorable. To quote your daughter, 'I can see a future of us together.'"
"Praise be to God. Then it appears all parties are in agreement. Shall we proceed to discuss the marriage arrangements?"
"Of course. Please, sit. Allow me to pour a cup of tea for my future father-in-law."
Jiao Ming seated himself where his daughter had sat previously. For a moment, neither spoke; only the quiet sound of tea being poured spread through the courtyard.
Clink
Suleiman placed the teapot back on its trivet and sat back down.
"Your Majesty," Jiao Ming began, "may I ask what my daughter has told you about our family?"
"We only spoke of her years in Ming, unfortunately we only reached till the part where you would take her to the mountains to paint."
"Ah…. That was a long time ago. She once found great joy in painting the valleys and rivers." Jiao Ming reminisced
"Once? Does She no longer paints?" Suleiman asked, frowning slightly. Sensing something odd
"Indeed, your Majesty." Jiao Ming took a sip of the tea before continuing "It is not my story to tell. I can only say that certain events has… dulled her emotions."
Confused, Suleiman waited for him to continue
Jiao Ming exhaled. "These are matters of the past. I did not intend to trouble you your Majesty."
"You have troubled me, Patriarch," Suleiman said. "If what she showed me today was merely an act, then I fear she may not be willing to marry. And I cannot take a wife who does not consent, lest I violate God's rules and place myself under God's anger. May God forgive us."
The patriarch bowed his head. "I apologize, Your Majesty. I would not dare violate God's commands. My phrasing was poor. I believe sincerely that my daughter approves of you. Since our departure from Ming, the only people toward whom she has shown such openness are myself, her mother, and now you."
"Even so," Suleiman replied, "I must confirm the truth. It is better that we begin this marriage with an engagement."
"That would be wise. She can serve as the Iron Atolye representative to the palace. With time, she may share more of her burdens with you." Jiao Ming nodded in agreement.
"God wills it. Now, let us talk about the finer details of our arrangement."
Jiao Ming straightened, the melancholy in his expression fading. "As you wish, your Majesty, what do you have in mind?'
A cold wind swept through Basrah. Doors closed, garments tightened. Summer's reign had ended, and a new season approached.