1565

By Jesmond Grech

Two men leading opposing armies on a barren island in a scorching summer...

Beset by the shortcomings of those around them, both are determined to fight till the end for the cause they uphold.

Two men of diverse cultures, faith and upbringing who understand each other more than they could possibly know…

Brave, strong and frail… Both conscious that they will be remembered for the decisions they will take and the mistakes they will commit in that fateful year, 1565…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jesmond Grech
• Release date: Apr 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224295050

Jesmond Grech

Jesmond Grech, a Maltese author and teacher, was born on September 14, 1963, in Mtarfa. Growing up in Paola, he attended primary school and pursued secondary education at Mt Carmel College and St Paul’s Missionary College. He holds a Bachelorship (1986) and Masters in Education (1990) from the University of Malta. Grech married Mary nee Pace and has two children. His passion for literature began with stories from his family and book-reading programs by Charles Arrigo. Grech had two ambitions: to become a teacher and an author, both of which he achieved. Early in his career, he co-authored an anthology of poems called L-Għaxra tal-Ħamsa and authored Demm fil-Korsija. Recognizing the challenges of writing in Maltese, he pursued it as a hobby. Grech's interest in writing for children led to books like Mid-Dinja ta’ Ġorġ and an adaptation of Greek myths titled Stejjer mill-Greċja. He pioneered adolescent literature in Malta with his book Ġenerazzjoni Paceville in 1999. He developed a simple, flowing style, evident in his self-published series Kotba tal-Qalb, with works like Gideb u Mħabba and Mħabba mill-Ġdid serialized for TV. His nursery rhymes anthology Bongi Wongi u l-Avventuri Tiegħu, illustrated by Marisa Attard, represented Malta at the Tour d’Europe en 27 Livres d’Images exhibition in France in 2008. Grech's first crime novel, A Simple Affair, set in Malta, was published in 2021. His contributions to Maltese literature have been appreciated by both children and adults due to his accessible writing style.

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About the Author

Jesmond Grech is a history teacher in a state secondary school and pursues writing as a hobby. He has published eighteen books in a variety of genres ranging from children’s stories and history to novels in Maltese and English.  In 2008, his children’s book Bongi Wongi u l-avventuri tiegħu (Bongi Wongi and his adventures) represented Malta at an exhibition entitled Tour d’Europe en 27 livres d’images held at the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. Two of his novels have been adapted for local TV. His British Heritage in Malta (published by Miller) is one of the most best-selling tourists guidebooks in the country. His biography about the life of the servant of God, Eugenio Borg, has been translated and published in Spanish. He lives in Malta with his family.

TO MGP

PART ONE

PREPARATIONS

CHAPTER 1

AD 1563

OFF THE COAST OF ZANTE

The three galleys had been cruising in the Ionian for days, waiting for Turkish shipping loaded with all the goods under the sun. Admiral Fra Mathurin d’Aux de Lescout looked at his men on the San Croce. They had set off from the harbour of Malta a few weeks before, eager to fight, bloodshed in their eyes. They had sailed eastwards, hoping to find their prize in the vicinity, but they did not. The admiral had been constrained to sail further to the east, closer to danger and still no shipping was in sight. Known to the crews as Romegas, he knew the men loved and trusted him. On countless occasions, he had led them to victory.

Romegas ran his hand over the short-boxed beard that he wore in the style of the late King Henry II of France. Looking at his men now, he saw a haggard, tired crew. He was sure the situation on the other two ships under his command wasn’t different. He didn’t like that. He knew they’d follow him till the furthest corner of the sea, but he also knew that inactivity produced misbehaviour, the worst thing on a ship.

One of his officers approached.

Zante’s in the vicinity, Admiral...

A useless phrase. Romegas knew the seas in the palm of his hands and did not need to be told where his ships were navigating. But the young officer, a novice on his first caravan duty, was tense.

Then we should prepare ourselves for action, brother officer.

The young man smiled nervously. He had not as yet tasted the thrill of clashing swords with the enemy. It was a pre-requisite in the novitiate, an experience which novices had to go through before being initiated in the Sovereign Military Order of St John.

Are we to expect enemy shipping soon?

Barely had he finished the question. The hawk-eyed admiral spotted the top of a mast, like a thin hair, on the horizon. A malicious smile crept on his face.

Our hosts are yonder. Let’s go and greet them! Alert the men!

In an instant, the raddled bunch on the deck turned into hungry sharks. Down in the ship’s hull, the drums started to beat faster, and the aguzzino flashed a whip on the naked torsos of the rowers, urging them to row harder and faster. The oars swept the sea in an accelerated rhythm. Life seemed to flow again in the corsairs’ bodies as the galleys approached the Ottoman merchant ship with surprising speed.

The beauty of the vessel began to unravel as they got closer.

It was worth the wait! the young officer gasped. She’s a beauty!

And unaccompanied! Romegas exclaimed, barely believing his eyes. How could a vessel, potentially laden with all sorts of wealth in the East, navigate in those insidious seas without protective escort? Evidently, the Turks weren’t expecting nocuous assaults that close to the Porte.

The men were ready in their stations on deck, weapons in hand, eyes on their admiral.

Men! Romegas shouted in Italian. God has rewarded our wait by giving us the unaccompanied vessel, which we are swiftly approaching. If we are destined to die today, so be it. But remember that if we die today, we won’t be able to kill our enemies tomorrow. So do not let overenthusiasm blind you. Let us do only whatever is necessary to take the ship. Your women and loved ones are waiting for you in Malta, so let’s do whatever duty requires and go back home.  Most of all, do not damage the ship!

The motley assembly made of Sicilians, Greeks, Maltese, and Albanians understood the command. A burnt booty was useless; dead people couldn’t be enslaved or ransomed. Their toils would have been in vain. Casualties had to be kept to a minimum. Still, everybody was careful. No matter how weak the resistance was, the Turks were bound to react. A small amount of people were bound to lose life and limb. To enjoy the bounty of the reward, one must be alive!

Prepare yourselves to die! Prepare yourselves to fight! But most of all, let us prepare ourselves to get rich!

The crew roared with laughter. The admiral’s words calmed their fears and emboldened their spirits. They were ready to follow their leader everywhere.

The battle itself was conclusively fast. The experienced seadogs jumped on board, swirling their sabres, trying to overpower the enemy in the shortest possible time. They were experts in surprise and intimidation.

When the cloud of smoke cleared, a few men lay on the deck, moaning from their wounds. Only three people lay motionless in a pool of blood: two infidels and the young officer.

Romegas knelt beside the novice and held the moribund’s hand tightly. He was only an adolescent, barely seventeen. The child was gasping for breath with trembled breath.

Maman! he cried. Pardonnes-moi, maman!

Memories of his first caravan flashed in the captain’s mind. He, too, was a young noble son of an ancient French family.

"Je suis ici!" he told the officer reassuringly. His eyes met those of the doctor who signalled that there was no hope for the boy.

With a dazed, lost look, the young officer stared into a vague spot and let off his last breath.

A man was dragged to Romegas’s presence and thrown at his feet.

Admiral, here’s the dog who did it!

The infidel looked strong and healthy. He would have surely brought a hefty some in the slave market in Malta or Sicily.

Pick him up and hold him tight! he ordered.

The corsairs knew what was about to happen and, in a way, the prisoner as well. The Turk started imploring for mercy, but Romegas drew a dagger and, in one swift, strong move, dug it into the prisoner’s breast.  

Throw the corpses overboard and chain the prisoners.

As soon as the bodies hit the sea, shark fins were spotted approaching.

What shall we do with the officer? Zeppi asked. He was an old Maltese corsair, the group's senior, and commanded a certain respect from all aboard.

Shroud him and take him to our ship.

They should be in Malta's harbour for a few days if storms or unfavourable winds do not detain them. They’d bury him in holy ground. If they’re held for any reason, the boy would have to have a watery grave.

The admiral gave a quick look at the deck and sent some men to survey the cabins. After a while, Dmitri came down from the upper quarters.

Admiral, I think you’d better come with me. There’s something you’ve got to see.

He followed the Greeks till they reached a closed cabin door. Inside a spacious room perfumed with incense, a group of ladies were huddled in a corner. Wrapped in black burkas, they looked at the men with scared eyes.

One of them, an older woman, stepped forward. Contrary to the others, she wasn’t scared of her captives.

I am Asul, the nurse of Mihrimah, daughter of the Sultan. This ship belongs to Kustir-Agha, chief eunuch of the seraglio, she said with a strong voice.

The admiral smiled scornfully. The old hag would be ransomed for a high prize. Possibly some of the other ladies as well.

I am Romegas, and this ship and whatever is on it now belongs to me, he replied in Turkish. This includes all of you.

The other ladies panicked. When the corsairs forced off their hijabs, a group of six ladies stood in front of their captives in various moods. Some were scared, and others were crestfallen. Asul and a middle-aged woman looked at the captors with anger and contempt.

My husband is a rich silk merchant. I won’t be taken as an enslaved person, said the woman.

Your request shall be met, Romegas assured her. No one shall molest you...

His eyes fell on one of the lady servants. She was very fair and had beautiful features.

As for you... He stopped in mid-sentence and turned to Dimitri. Take her to my cabin and keep watch over her.

The Greek smiled. The admiral would have a warm bed tonight, he thought.

You are all to stay in this room till we reach our destination, the commander said authoritatively, and if you do what you’re told, you shall not be molested in any way.

Romegas bowed respectfully and headed towards the door.

Don’t think you’re going to get away with this, Romegas! the old nurse shouted. The Sultan shall cry for vengeance!

The admiral half turned and threw a defiant look at her. He decided to speak to her with mock respect and addressed her as though she were a princess.

My Lady, God shall protect me. And if He doesn’t, I’ve always got this, he said, strengthening his grip on the handle of his sword.

Don’t be too sure of yourself, you insolent knight. Allah is on our side! the woman cried out.

Romegas chuckled. No, my lady. God is on the side of the winners!

CHAPTER 2

DE VALETTE’S QUARTERS

FORT ST ANGELO, BIRGU

A tall man with broad shoulders and silvery grey curls was fixed to the castle’s window overlooking the harbour. Grand Master Jean de Valette had summoned his two most trusted men for a meeting, and they were waiting outside in the humid corridor. His gaze was fixed on the beautiful vessel which Romegas had towed in one of the creeks a few days before. Its arrival brought about much jubilation in the streets of the citadel because not only was it a worthy prize in itself, but it was also laden with all sorts of valuable goods. In Birgu’s inns and taverns, everybody drank to the admiral’s health.

Yet, notwithstanding the celebrations, dark thoughts loomed in De Valette’s mind.

Call them in! he ordered the guard by the door.

A few moments later, Admiral Romegas and Fra Oliver Starkey, Turcopolier and the Grand Master’s Latin Secretary, were in De Valette’s private quarters. They bowed and kissed his hand reverently. 

It was evident from the start that the two were at loggerheads. De Valette could see them darting vicious looks at each other. He had been at the helm of the Order of St John for the past seven years and knew all the men he commanded and their thoughts and feelings. Starkey and Romegas were not just two persons, they represented two opposing factions within the Religion.

The men took their places; De Valette on an oak chair with leather seat, the others on plain wooden chairs. All came from the most noble families in Europe but poverty was one of the vows they had taken when still adolescents. Chastity and obedience to their superiors were the others.  Starkey and Romegas to their Grand Master, De Valette to Pope Pius IV himself, to whom he was only accountable.

The Grand Master turned to Lieutenant Turcopolier and signalled him to speak first.

Venerable Grand Master, the recent, daring action of our esteemed brother, Fra d’Aux de Lescout is highly despicable...

Romegas emitted a disapproving sound with his tongue. The English Knight, with his effeminate ways and manners, disgusted him.

De Valette slowly raised his wrinkled fingers, and the chevalier was back in order. He had to let Fra Starkey argue his case without interruption.

The merchantman belongs to the chief eunuch of Suleiman’s seraglio, a person of great influence on the Sultan, the English Knight explained. The booty taken from it was coming from Venice and was destined to the Sultan’s concubines who had raised the money for the enterprise. Amongst the prisoners is also the old nurse of Suleiman’s favourite daughter. The result of Fra Lescout’s attack has put our Convent in grave danger. Surely, the ladies will clamour for revenge. I am certain this action shall not go unpunished!

Starkey’s composure remained unruffled during the argument unfolding as though he were parsing a phrase for translation.

When it was Romegas’ turn, he punched the table so hard, shaking the silver goblet and wine decanter on it.

That vessel and the goods on it, he barked almost at Starkey’s face, are worth over eighty thousand ducats, enough to sustain a sizeable part of the expenses for the fortifications our Religion is building on this God-forsaken island. Money with which we can build, repair and strengthen our galleys and frigates.  Without my attacks and others who risk life and limb against the Infidels, this place would still be as barren as upon the day it was given to us, and we were sitting ducks!

We won’t be sitting ducks if we do not entice the anger of the birds of prey! Starkey replied softly, still not losing his composure.

Our most glorious Order exists to fight the Ottomans whenever and wherever, Fra Starkey, the other said. We are fighting men. We serve God with our blood and swords. Get that into your head, Starkey!

Romegas! shouted the Grand Master. Moderate your tone and beg pardon from our brother at once!

At the Grand Master’s admonishment and bidding, the French knight bowed, demanded forgiveness, and kissed the hem of Fra Starkey’s black silk robe. Calm was restored, and both men waited for their superior’s deliberation.

I need time to consider what can be done at this stage, De Valette said.

The knights were dismissed, but as they were both heading for the door, the Grand Master bid the admiral to stay.

Romegas was elated. He longed to be alone with the person he respected as his father. They were both from Provence and often understood each other without even saying a single word.

De Valette stroked the salt and pepper stubble over his sunburnt cheeks.

Romegas, he said after a while in the Provincial accent. You and I respect bravery and admire courage, but this is a very dangerous time to dare with the Infidels.

Venerable Master, when was it not a dangerous time?

De Valette poured red wine into his goblet and poured some for the knight. Although at the helm of one of the most powerful crusading orders, the seventy-year-old man was humble and gentle with friends. He had taken a likening to the young Fra Mathurin since the day he started the noviciate. Other youngsters were timid and not so eager to start on their caravans. On the contrary, Mathurin loved the sea and the perilous life it brought with it. Soon enough, he was being noted for his courage, and since the Order based its security on its vessels, there was a place for Fra Mathurin’s able leadership.

What about the young novice who has lost his life?

He fought bravely, but luck was not on the poor boy’s side, Romegas answered. He had lost a lot of blood from the wounds he sustained and died in my hands like a brave Christian. His parents should be proud that he had done his duty.

They drank the wine in silence, enjoying its refreshing taste. In the island's humid climate, the taste of wine reminded the knights of the eight different Langues of the Order of their faraway homelands. They felt close to each other in a fatherly-son relationship.

I admire courage, brother, but there’s a time for courage and a time for prudence, the Grand Master said pensively. At present, we can’t afford to provoke the enemy.

He avoided the words that evoked unpleasant memories.

When the Religion was fighting in Rhodes, I was young and full of energy, De Valette said, his bluish-grey eyes staring at a shield hanging on the wall. We fought the Turks till the last man. We were all ready to die. The bravery in the eyes of our men was visible. But the enemy was stronger than us. We had to surrender the city and evacuate our quarters. We were all ready to die for Christ, but for reasons which escape our comprehension, Suleiman decided to spare us. I was one of the lucky few to get out of the island alive with Grand Master L’Isle Adam.

Romegas knew the story by heart but let his superior relive it. He hadn’t even been born when Rhodes fell to the Turks.

Rhodes was beautiful! De Valette mused. Greener, richer, closer to the Porte... We could attack the Infidels quicker!

They both smiled. Both had the sea in their blood. They understood each other perfectly. Back then, too, we had a strong navy and we were proving to be a terrible menace to the Sultan’s shipping until he decided to put an end to our assaults.

The pain of the events in the Greek island was evident in his wrinkled face.

Then, he continued almost mumbling, came the dark, long years when we wandered from one place to another in an endless search for a hospitable Christian kingdom where we could establish our Convent and continue the sacred mission assigned to us by our Lord... Fruitless, heart-breaking years! Venice and our beloved France ceased hostility against our enemies... A sharp dagger in our backs! All was bleak until Spain was clement and the Emperor Charles granted us this barren archipelago and Tripoli... Tripoli!

Again, memories flashed in De Valette’s mind. His years when he was governor of the fort on the North African coast. The frequent attacks by the Barbary pirates and the Muslim hordes, attacks which he and the men trusted under his leadership managed to repel. His successor did not. Perhaps he could not. The attacks had become more frequent, fiercer. The determination of the enemy grew stronger. With the surrender of the fort, De Valette’s successor returned to Malta humbled imprisoned in the guva of the very fort they were in at that moment. Only De Valette, realising the impossibility of holding a fort surrounded by the enemy, released the disgraced governor on his election to the commanding position of the Order... Some many battles, so many memories...

Everyone does what one can, Venerable Master, Romegas said bringing the Grand Master back from his reverie. We are monks, but we are also soldiers. If the Infidels decide to attack us, they will do so whether I disturb their shipping or not.

Romegas’s logic was correct. De Valette nodded in agreement. He knew the Ottoman leaders and how he reasoned. He had spent his life fighting corsairs the likes of Dragut, Kust-Ali, Barbarossa... He had also seen the Sultan when Suleiman himself had led the siege of Rhodes. The Ottomans did not take actions at the spur of the moment, out of revenge or indignation. Their aim was the control of the Balkans and North Africa. Their victorious armies had reached Hungary and threatening Vienna. Suleiman would continue the pursuit commenced by his father whether a ship or two has been attacked or spared.

De Valette rose from his seat. The interview was over. His bones were aching, but he tried to hide the pain from everybody. A leader must appear strong, determined, courageous because strength, determination and courage were the virtues everybody admired, and expected from a commander.

Admiral Romegas followed him to the window fitted with the cast-iron guard. The Grand Harbour bustled with activity of which they could hear the distant din.

We shall be attacked sooner or later, De Valette almost whispered. There’s no doubt about that!

For a moment, their gazes were on a galley which was being fitted to leave for Sicily.

They’ll come and hunt us even here. And when they do, only your ships, those fortifications and the grace of God will save us!

Romegas kissed the Grand Master’s hand and left the room. The commander was on his side.

CHAPTER 3

THE TOPKAPI PALACE, ISTANBUL

AH 971

The Divan was in session at the Sultan’s bidding and all eyes of the counsellors were glued to the Chief Agha. Having been given permission to state his case, Mehmet Ali Susa was standing in the centre of the hall in an elegant silk kaftan, addressing the viziers, grandees and generals who had been called to the Sultan’s presence. Suleiman himself was seated on an embroidered, velvet cushion weighing the counsels offered by his most trusted officials.

Most Magnificent Sultan, invincible and mighty Lord, the Chief Agha said with the strongest voice an emasculated eunuch could muster. "In a not-so-far-away island, which I am reluctant even to name, a nest of vipers has gathered