Topkapi Palace, Ramadan, 1637. The winter sun hung low over the Fourth Courtyard. Horses thundered across the open ground, their breath rising in white clouds, as the finest of the Enderun, the Palace School, charged between two stone pillars, velvet robes streaming behind them as they hurled their “lobuds.” These heavy wooden clubs spun through the air to cries of admiration from the gathered Court.
From his throne, Sultan Murad IV watched every throw. He wore a blue velvet kaftan, his favorite colour, and sat forward as another rider galloped past. The horse flew between the pillars. The rider released his lobud. It fell short.
A smile touched the sultan’s lips. Murad knew he could do better.
He beckoned to the master of the horse, then rose from his throne. At once, the murmur of the Court subsided.
Murad mounted his horse. He gathered the reins and rode towards the starting point. A lobud was placed in his hand. For a moment, he sat motionless in the saddle. His fingers closed around the smooth wood. Then he raised the heavy club to his shoulder.
The horse sprang forward. Murad leant into the gallop, riding straight for the stone pillars. At the last moment, he hurled the lobud...