Less than three days later, in the Palace of Bakhchysarai, Northern Crimea, on the Crimean Peninsula, a formally dressed Haji Giray was troubled by the request of his visitor.
"Did your Excellency just say that the nephew of the current Karaman Bey is within my territory?" After a long pause, Giray tapped his seat, looking at the Turkic envoy before him with an air of detachment.
"Yes, Girai Khan, this person is the son of Karaman's former Bey, Bengi Ali." The visitor was dressed in Anatolian Turkic style, wearing a pure white large turban, with a long beard on his chin, and formal, splendid attire. He did not appear too old. Although his tone and demeanor were polite, his imposing presence did not diminish in the slightest, despite the Tatar prince before him being the current power in the Crimea region.
"What does that have to do with me? Can't you just capture him yourselves? I am nominally a subject of Sarai. Why don't you ask the Khan about such matters? Why must you come to me? And what exactly are you Ottoman doing, interfering in Karaman's internal affairs on Tatar land? Your Sultan wouldn't have any improper designs on the lands north of the Black Sea, would he?" Facing the aggressive Ottoman envoy, Haji Giray was somewhat annoyed. He intentionally widened his greenish-brown pupils as he questioned him.
"Giray Khan may have some misunderstanding. Firstly, our Sultan is the shadow of Allah on earth; His Majesty's will is our will. The order to capture this Karaman Prince was personally issued by His Majesty. For us, obeying the Sultan is as natural as obeying Allah. To fulfill His Majesty's command, it's quite normal to do things that Edirne doesn't know about, isn't it?"
"Furthermore, I am not here to force you, Girai Khan. We are merely offering a small suggestion. If you agree, we Ottoman can offer you some practical assistance, such as aid you might need when fighting against the Golden Horde."
"As for why we sought you out, it's because, in our view, seeking help from a local, powerful prince is more effective than from the Golden Horde Khan, who only holds the Khanate. Please trust us, and rest assured, the Vizier will not engage in any ridiculous acts of seeking distant solutions over close ones."
Haji Giray softened somewhat, but he still didn't know what the Ottoman were truly up to. Thinking this, he couldn't help but ask curiously, "So what can the Ottoman give me?"
"A troop of elite soldiers, as long as it doesn't exceed a thousand men. Because we, or more precisely, Vizier Çandarlı, believe that you will not simply submit to the incompetent Sarai." The Ottoman envoy smiled.
As a seasoned ruler, Giray quickly understood the underlying meaning. "So that's it. Under the guise of capturing a wanted man, you actually want to extend your influence to the northern Black Sea coast. Your Grand Vizier is willing to go to such lengths just to claim credit. In that case," Just as Haji Giray was about to make an exorbitant demand, he suddenly recalled his previous conversation with the Crown Prince of Theodoro, Manuel Olubey, and decided it was better to be cautious. "Then please provide me with 250 of your elite soldiers."
"Very well, Girai Khan. You should know that what we do is all for the protection of the believers, nothing more. So," The Ottoman envoy, seeing his caution, emphasized, "Then, Giray Khan, a pleasant cooperation?"
"A pleasant cooperation. I'll be frank, breaking away from this old Golden Horde system will benefit both you and me." Haji Giray added after hearing his emphasis.
"By the way, the Karaman Prince you want to capture, is his name Suleiman?" With the negotiation concluded, Haji Giray made his choice readily and asked casually.
"Exactly. In fact, the request to capture this person initially didn't come from us, but was a commission requested by the current Karaman Bey, Ibrahim. Alas, I hope Karaman can be more peaceful this time."
After their meeting, a considerable bounty was placed on the Turkic prince within Haji Giray's territory. From Bakhchysarai to Kuba, wanted posters of all sizes were put up in all the Tatar towns he controlled, vowing to apprehend the man.
Meanwhile, in Sinlin, a border town between Giray's territory and the Principality of Theodoro, the hunted man, disguised as a pilgrim in a simple white robe, sat in a tavern room, looking distressed.
"That cursed cousin of mine has gone to such lengths. He won't let me go even after I've left Anatolia. To catch me, he even used the Ottoman to extend his reach into Crimea." The hunted man, the Prince of Karaman, Suleiman Karamanoglu, not yet twenty years old, muttered softly but bitterly. Under the cover of his white robe, his handsome face was somewhat contorted with anger.
"Then, Your Highness, what should we do now?" His loyal attendant, Mahmoud Ruta Oghlu, who was of similar age but ordinary appearance, asked softly.
"Escape. We cannot give up any hope of restoration. Damn it, the Tatar prince of Crimea seems to have chosen to cling to the Ottoman's coattails to help my uncle. In that case," Suleiman angrily picked up the fermented grape juice from the table and drank it in one gulp, "to the Christian's."
That night, the master and servant, under the cover of darkness, fled from Sinlin to the outskirts of Theodosia.
The next day, at the Theodosia Palace, Manuel, who was handling his daily affairs, was pleasantly enjoying his fiancée's lap pillow, but soon a piece of information about the exploration and excavation of the Panticapaeum iron mine broke his good mood.
"Your Highness, regarding the iron mine excavation, there is one good news and one bad news. Which one would you like to hear first?" A relevant person in charge of the matter reported cautiously.
"The good news, I suppose." Manuel, who had already left Barbara's lap pillow when the report came, replied lazily.
"The good news is that, according to the joint survey by skilled miners and naturalists, there are indeed fairly rich iron ore deposits in the Panticapaeum area, as Your Highness mentioned."
"And the bad news?"
"Your Highness, with our current technology, even if we start digging from the hills, we cannot get close to the ore vein. In other words..."
"Get to the point."
"We can't dig in, Your Highness, no matter how we think about it, we just can't dig in at all." The reporter even sounded a little tearful as he said this.