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# Chapter 24: A Bigger Picture (2)

‘I’m glad Shamsi has joined us.’

It’s only natural to develop some affection after being together for nearly half a year, not like I’m a psychopath.

No matter how many lessons the Burka left behind, the decision to kill if necessary wasn’t an easy one.

‘But there was no other choice. The cost of betrayal is just too high.’

Knowing my own tendencies and characteristics was an issue, but understanding the reality of the barley shop was even more significant.

Of course, using a common grain like barley wasn’t a lucrative business, but its value lay in its potential as an information route.

More than just trivial information.

‘Shamsi for internal affairs, Hasan for finances, Arda for military, and Sinan for medicine.’

Hasan’s reputation had taken a bit of a hit, and it would take more time to fully trust Arda, but they were satisfying talents nonetheless.

The real challenge was making use of them.

“Should I start organizing things?”

For agriculture, I planted clover last year to recover soil fertility, and by autumn, we could properly enter a four-crop rotation.

The results will be seen next year, and based on that, I planned to implement the four-crop rotation as much as possible.

‘This is a plan that should at least be viewed over ten years.’

No matter how good a method is, replacing existing practices isn’t something that happens quickly.

It’s only possible if the highest authority has strong willpower; then maybe, just maybe, we can try implementing it.

If agriculture falls into the long-term plan, cement was for the short term.

“Lime and clay, the main ingredients for cement, are easy to procure, so making it shouldn’t be hard.”

When cement and water are mixed and harden, it’s called hydraulic cement; we don’t need volcanic ash like in Roman times; we can just use lime and clay to create it.

The challenge was less about acquiring raw materials and more about the roasting and crushing processes.

Without a factory, large-scale production is tough, and while it may lack compared to modern cement, anything usable is already a win.

“I should delegate this to Hasan.”

I already felt the desperation creeping in.

“Life’s worth isn’t enough for this.”

With a master who’s always looking for a chance to cook me in hot water, throwing work at her would be more beneficial for extending my lifespan.

Next up was barley tea, and I summoned the key personnel directly.

Whether a noble or not, they arrived quickly.

“Did you call for me, Your Highness?”

Yusuf tilted his head at Nene, who greeted him with a humble bow.

“What about Aishe? I called her too, you know.”

“I thought it would be better not to call her separately.”

It would have been a behavior worthy of a harsh decree if it were someone else, but Yusuf didn’t get angry.

Nene wasn’t the type to act without reason. She definitely wanted to see herself do well right after Fatima.

“Reason?”

“If it’s related to the information agent, I’d prefer that child not be involved.”

This was crossing a line, but I could guess the motivation.

“Is it your mother’s wish too?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, so Aishe must have made quite the impression on her.”

This wasn’t a suggestion to spare a cherished child from harsh tasks.

Staying as far away as possible from power struggles indicated that Aishe was being considered for the harem.

What followed in Nene’s words held that same implication.

“That child is too clever. She learns and utilizes things just by watching. There is a risk she might use that knowledge to gain your favor.”

I couldn’t imagine Aishe using cunning tactics due to ambition, but harem intrigues might occur out of love for a rival.

‘Just look at the love story between Hurem Sultan and Suleiman.’

Just looking at the letters exchanged between them, it’s practically a romance movie; yet, the lengths Hurem went to secure his favor were quite sinister.

Suleiman even had his son killed at one point.

With such examples in mind, it couldn’t just be dismissed as mere speculation.

“I’ll leave matters related to Aishe to you two.”

“Thank you.”

Of course, if Aishe had a personality as hardened as Hurem’s, Fatima wouldn’t have been appointed to keep close to her.

It was just about being as careful as possible.

Yusuf got to the point.

“Even if I want to gather information from other territories, you know it’s tough to set up a shop there now, right?”

“I understand.”

The barley shop was closer to a low-profit welfare service, and I couldn’t just spend money doing that in someone else’s domain.

And it’s not like the lofty folks of other territories would spend money for the health of their subordinates.

Gaining information meant targeting a different angle.

“I’ve heard coffee milk has become quite popular in the baths lately.”

“I believe it’s thanks to Lady Fatima introducing it to others.”

When I explained it to Fatima, I didn’t have a specific term for it, so I just called it ‘coffee milk,’ and it seems that name stuck.

Given that the word “coffee” didn’t even exist in this era, I couldn’t be too concerned, but it felt a bit strange.

‘Like selling a knockoff, perhaps.’

Anyhow, coffee milk was quickly gaining popularity around the bathing houses, which served as social venues among the upper class, even leading to variations mixed with sugar or honey.

“Could we spread coffee milk to other regions to gather information?”

“If that’s the case, we’ll need to send slaves who can make coffee milk directly to each bathhouse.”

After a brief moment of thought, Nene’s attitude was negative.

“To get the right flavor, it requires skill, so planting people won’t be difficult.”

Just as the roasting process greatly influences the taste of coffee, so does the roasting of orzo, the barley coffee.

If not careful, it could just taste burnt rather than coffee.

Brewing time also matters.

“The key issue is having to send female slaves; controlling them over distance becomes challenging. Just look at Hasan’s experience.”

Hasan’s exploits seemed to have sown distrust of slaves.

‘That was Hasan’s fault.’

If someone he’d known for ten years betrayed him, how could he trust a slave from far away?

Yusuf nearly died over that as well, so he certainly hadn’t forgotten.

“Of course, measures will be taken. No slave will be sent out for more than two years, and once that time is up, they’ll be called back to Trabzon for at least six months.”

That was the minimum safety measure, but it wouldn’t be enough on its own.

“And after ten years of living this way, I’ll grant their freedom.”

To think such a radical idea in this era left Nene with wide eyes.

Women slaves weren’t cheap, and establishing a mere ten-year limit would surely feel wasteful.

But she didn’t need anything beyond that.

“By the time ten years passes, the outline of the succession war will emerge, and gathering information around then will no longer be necessary. There’s no need to hold on to those slaves.”

Ultimately, the succession is a life-or-death gamble.

Clinging too tightly to pocket change might cost the most precious lifeline.

“If you proceed as you suggest, you needn’t worry about loyalty.”

“I’m more worried about how slowly coffee milk might spread.”

With no decent promotional means available, it was an era where they could only rely on word of mouth.

Nene chuckled lightly at Yusuf’s worries.

“Don’t fret. There’s no one more eager for something new than women.”

Well, the activities of the upper-class women in this era, who placed great importance on chastity, were severely limited.

They had to cover their faces to some extent, thus couldn’t just go out freely.

This was evident from how bathhouses became the main social hubs where they could move around freely.

Not being Hasan, Nene answered with confidence, indicating that they could be entrusted.

“It feels like I owe you and your mother something for continuously handling such matters.”

“I’m just happy to help. Lady Fatima feels the same way.”

“Thank you.”

After Nene, who smiled slightly, left, Yusuf let out a light sigh, and from him, he could faintly hear Arda’s yelling.

It must have penetrated the thick stone walls, and if he were nearby, it probably felt like a eardrum burst.

“Seems like they’re really going all out.”

So, as planned, he gathered those who had cut ties with their families and formed a troop, and Arda had taken it upon himself to train them to be elite.

‘No feelings of goodwill means I don’t need to worry about being gentle.’

Arda also had Burka’s last wishes to guide him, so he wouldn’t show past grudges.

However, he hadn’t forgiven those who had led the situation to this point; that was why he volunteered to take charge of their training.

Of course, the troop members were terrified if they heard Arda was directly in charge.

“If you can’t endure this, you’re no use to anyone.”

Cavalry aren’t made merely from bravery.

Horses have limits to their stamina; thus, they cannot charge right at the enemy initially, but must approach slowly until they get close enough.

With arrows and shells raining down to deter their advance, they must not falter if they wish to perform their roles.

With cries that sound like screams, Yusuf shook his head.

“Training like that will surely instill some courage they never had before.”

At any rate, as the issues regarding troops were being filled in, some individuals had diminished in worth.

Specifically, the five Circassians that Aishe had bought and used for security.

They could mobilize hundreds in half a day if they only put their minds to it, but their absence didn’t bother Yusuf.

“Well then, I’ll have to use them elsewhere.”

At last, a place where they could shine awaited.

Yusuf called them through the security posted outside, and it didn’t take long for them to arrive at his office.

“Did you call for us?”

Asker, who played the leader among the five, bowed and greeted him.

Yusuf chuckled softly and asked, “You’ve softened a lot since the first time I saw you. You can speak our language much better now.”

Their village had been devastated by attackers, and they waited for the day they’d be sold into slavery, so it’d be odd if they weren’t solemn.

Still, back then, they seem like they’d stab if approached.

“If half your blood hadn’t been Circassian, I wouldn’t have been able to take you as guards.”

“Thanks to you, Your Highness.”

Of course.

They had been treated decently for slaves, and thinking about the tasks to come, Yusuf felt the need to remind them once more.

After some light banter, Yusuf moved on to the main topic.

“I’m thinking about sending you all back to Circassia.”

They looked surprised as if they hadn’t anticipated it, and Asker, representing them, asked, “What task do you want from us?”

“Information from Circassia.”

Asker nodded.

To gain information from distant places, utilizing locals was the best way to go.

However, there was a problem.

“Can you all trust us with this?”

That was the question.

There was no guarantee that a freed slave would perform their duties.

Yusuf responded as if asking something utterly ridiculous.

“Can’t trust you.”

With the unequivocal response, the expressions of the five turned hard, and Yusuf continued.

“Since I can’t trust you, I need to make you worthy of trust. First, I shall free you from slavery.”

“Really?”

“And if you perform your roles well, I’ll ensure you’re compensated handsomely. Does that sound like a deal worth trusting?”

You can’t gain loyalty through threats, but you could with money.

Yusuf’s query felt utterly natural in a world where such was the norm, and the five Circassians bowed gladly.

“Please trust us with this.”

“I have high expectations.”

A few days later, the five Circassians departed Trabzon, along with those who would serve as intermediaries.

*

As spring planting continued apace, and the days repeated like any other.

Shamsi, with a solemn expression, came looking for Yusuf.

“We’ve received word from Circassia.”

“Really?”

It had been a while since they’d last received any communication from them.

As Yusuf looked curious, Shamsi spoke in a stiff voice, relaying the contents of the letter.

“There’s a plague spreading in Circassia.”