Chapter 673: The Old Man’s Adventure (End)
Apostolos, embodying the seasoned diplomat’s role, wasted no time on formalities. His approach was direct, his queries pointed, aiming to pierce through the façade of Ottoman strength and reveal the stark realities they faced.
"And your military might?" Apostolos began, his tone measured yet firm. "Tell me, Ahmed Celebi, how many warriors truly stand to defend your empire’s borders?"
Ahmed Celebi, keen to assert the Ottoman Empire’s undiminished power, answered with a veneer of confidence, "Our forces are formidable, exceeding thirty thousand strong, a bastion of defense against any threat."
Yet again, Apostolos cut him off, his critique sharp and unforgiving. "On parchment, perhaps. But in truth, this army is but a shadow, a spectre haunting the ledgers. They are farmers first, soldiers in name only, summoned to arms by the mere presence of your inspectors. The coin meant for their service lines the pockets of their commanders, not their own."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the unvarnished truths laid bare by Apostolos stifling any pretence of Ottoman military might. Ahmed Celebi, confronted with these stark revelations, found himself at a loss, the weight of his empire’s plight pressing down upon him with unbearable force.
"Ah yes! And this part!" It seemed like some intel on the notes Apostolos is holding grabbed the interest of the old man, as he made a gleeful grin, and looked towards Ahmed Celebi. "About your trading partners! How many trading partners do you have again? Please, do remind me."
"We have trading partners all over the known world within civilisation, including..." Ahmed Celebi continued, forcing a smile on his face, but soon his smile froze, as Apostolos continued interrupting with that same usual grin, reading together simultaneously with him.
"... Including our Saracen partners from Syria, Persia, the Caucasus, the Golden Hordes, we have a flourishing trade that enables us to readily exchange for what we have and what we do not have, even if we do not depend on the Christians of the west."
Apostolos once again lifted his head up and laughed. "Come on don’t be ridiculous your Highness! You are at war with the Persians, the Caucasians and the Saracens, while you are under constant blockade by us Romans and those Venetians, the new Khan of the Great Horde, Ahmed Khan bin Küchük did not adopt a liking on your state as well for the history of conflicts you shared with them, what else trading activities do you have, bringing fish and hazelnuts from Trebizond to here, and bringing it back?"
Ahmed Celebi’s voice faltered momentarily, yet he swiftly sought to shift the conversation’s course. "Our forces have recorded numerous victories against eastern adversaries. Our valiant warriors, my brothers Ali Çelebi and Mehmed Bey, have steadfastly held the Eastern frontiers against the Persians and Saracens..."
Apostolos, unfazed, read aloud from his document, "...Our national defence is unshakeable, bolstered by the unity of all Ottomans, rallying under a single standard against foreign encroachments."
Ahmed Celebi found himself momentarily speechless once more, caught off guard by the directness of Apostolos’s words.
But Apostolos gave him no time to react, as he continued reading from that paper slip. "Under the current precautions, it is possible for the two states to achieve a long term peace, but that will require a collective effort from both sides, in due course, at the appropriate juncture, in the fullness of time, when the moment is ripe, when the necessary procedures for peace have completed..."
"Sorry to interrupt, honourable ambassador." Ahmed Celebi narrowed his eyes. "May I know what is written on that piece of paper?"
"Oh this piece of paper?" Apostolos took it back into his chest. "It is just nothing but a piece of paper from the journal, you know, it is a habit of me writing down all the stuff I witnessed with my own eyes, you know, old habits, I do not know if you still remember, but you have told me similar things a month ago, and I took that information in my ears, and here." As Apostolos pointed towards his notebook.
"..." Silence ensued as Ahmed Celebi processed this revelation.
"Let me be clear," Apostolos added with emphasis, "While I don’t claim to know everything about your empire, I believe I’ve gained a profound insight into its heart, taking a note of everything I saw, I heard, and I felt. Thus, we find ourselves here, at this negotiation, by your invitation."
His use of ""Your" was deliberate, pointing squarely at Ahmed Celebi’s responsibility for their current dialogue.
"Why not dispel any lingering doubts, abandon subterfuges, and engage in genuine negotiations?" Apostolos proposed. "Let us reach an agreement swiftly, shall we? Aye? I believe that is the common interest of people from both sides."
Ahmed Celebi, visibly affected, bowed his head slightly.
Around them, whispers among Ahmed Celebi’s entourage began, but soon, all eyes were back on their prince regent, anticipating his counter. The Roman delegation watched keenly, their attention equally fixed on Apostolos, awaiting the next move in this high-stakes diplomatic chess game. The air in the surrounding is getting more and more intense, every word carrying the weight of centuries, every silence a battlefield of its own.
Ahmed Celebi abruptly lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Apostolos. "We urgently seek peace along our Western frontiers, enabling us to address our adversaries to the East. As you’ve observed, ambassador, your military endeavours against our coast have yielded minimal territorial gains, merely escalating the toll of lives lost. Why not halt this fruitless squander of existence?"
Apostolos responded with a knowing smirk, "On that point, I concur."
Ahmed Celebi pressed on, "Anatolia’s soil lacks the fertility of Western lands, bereft of vital nutrients. We’re deficient in the craftsmen necessary to produce basic agricultural tools like hoes and shovels, and a stable source of seeds required for crop cultivation. The loss of our fertile plains has led to a grain shortage. With many Ottomans fleeing back to Anatolia after recent calamities, our needs are dire—we require everything to sustain and nourish our increasingly large populace, I must warn you, that men’s battle capabilities are at the climax, when he is on the verge of starvation."
Apostolos offered a nod of understanding, "We fully grasp the severity of your situation and, in keeping with the duties bestowed by the Pax Romana and the grandeur of Roman principles, we’re committed to assisting those in need, averting the spectre of famine."
Ahmed Celebi, seizing on this momentum, added, "What we need most is unhampered trade. We’re prepared to offer all within our means, reminiscent of bygone eras. Our warriors could form mercenary contingents to support Rumelian conflicts in the West; we’re willing to declare our ports duty-free zones for Rumelian commerce. Yet, all trade should remain unfettered—I oppose any Constantinopolitan prohibitions on knowledge or metal goods. Rumelian merchants may only engage in trade within designated zones, under Ottoman oversight, with all inland transactions conducted through Ottoman intermediaries. Is this clear?"
Apostolos’s expression soured, signalling potential resistance, which sent a wave of anxiety through Ahmed Celebi. Hastily, he gestured with his hands, "These terms are merely initial proposals, subject to discussion. We can propose prices above the market rate for these concessions, compensated in genuine silver."
The shadow of disapproval on Apostolos’s face gradually lifted.
Ahmed Celebi solemnly vowed, "And thus, not a single Ottoman soldier will tread upon Rumelian soil, nor shall any Rumelian set foot in Ottoman territories, for the coming decade."
Apostolos rose, his face relaxed and confident. "You have my word, my promise to you," he declared, extending his hand.
The two hands are firmly shake with one another.
With that the century long rival relationship between the two people finally begun moving towards a direction mutually beneficial for both sides, as parties from the two ends begun discussing the trivial terms and conditions that are going to be included on the final product, but with the major direction being already set, it would take no time before a detailed version of the treaty that satisfies the needs of both sides be released and signed.
With that, as the world entered its first ever summer of the new decade of year 1470, peace is finally restored on the Anatolian coast.
But is the rivalry between both sides really diminished within one night?
No one would think so, even for Ahmed Celebi, as he sent his brother Hamza Bey to the east with his elite troops, the pace of him building fortifications against the Romans never stopped, instead he plans to accelerate them, with the Roman tools that he plans to buy.
Apostolos’s stance was unequivocally stated in his dispatch to Constantinople: "Your Majesty, I assure you, the mission you entrusted to me has been completed. I have persuaded the Ottoman regent to agree to our terms, securing peace in the region. They may have their moment of triumph, but we must now proceed with the next stage of our strategy. With respect, Apostolos Eurymachus. Long live the emperor! Long live the Roman Empire!"
