"We Crusaders are a holy army that do not kill without a reason, I will not kill you, but tell me, how many Ottoman troops are there in front! What is their composition! Where are they heading! I need all the information! Tell me!"
The imperial baron brought the captured Ottoman prisoner of war before the horse of John Hunyadi, and the later urgently grabbed his translator by his reins and pulled him to his side for interrogation purposes.
The captive originally wanted to die like a hero, but another idea immediately emerged in his brain as he speaks. "There are sixty thousand of us, we have thirty thousand cavalries ! And our target is to eliminate all of you non believers!"
Of course, John Hunyadi will not believe in this fellow's exaggerations, he ordered his guards to drag this man to be back with disgust on his face. But there are two pieces of information he could at least presume from the man's words plus the prior investigation and information brought by hundreds of sacrificed Magyar scouts and his own analysis with his courtiers.
First, the Ottoman commander has decided to bring along all, at least the bulk of, his troops, which also means that his actions to lead all of his forces out into open field combat are correct. If he had decided to stay in camp putting up a defence over there, the Ottomans can merely put a portion of their forces preventing the Serbians and Bosnians from coming in to reinforce him, gobble down the entire Hungarian crusaders and still have the time to wipe his mouth clean.
Secondly, the Ottomans have lots of cavalries, lots of them, and if that Zaganos Pasha is not stupid, he should be expecting those 'pests ' very soon.
"Pass my orders! Infantries on all lines march forward! Shields and Spears in front! Archers and crossbow men get ready! Send more scouts! Yes, all of them, if we don't use them now there will be no use for them later!"
It took only a short time for John Hunyadi's predictions to be proved correct.
Everyone can tell from the trembling soil, jumping pebbles and thunderous vibrations tearing through the air that the Ottomans are galloping towards them, in a even larger amount than just now.
"Contact!"
Ottoman cavalries, thousands of them, came rapidly charging towards Hungarian battle lines on all fronts. John Hunyadi clenched his fist and observed the reactions of the holy warriors around, and it is not good. Those kids who are merely fifteen or sixteen of age with their moustache just barely growing out, holds their simple spear with their shaking hands, drafted to a foreign place and facing battle for the first time.
The Ottoman cavalries, using their accelerating momentum shooting rounds after rounds of arrows in a far range right onto the Hungarians disrupting their organisations and formations creating holes in their defenses, and then gushing into that spot trying to enlarge the Crusader's loop holes, waving their hammers, lances and Kilij blades on horse back cutting don one after another enduring heavy casualties brought upon them by Crusader spears, after charging they retreats like wind allowing the next wave of cavalries to charge while the previous wave goes back to change horses and prepare themselves again, taking advantage of the fog which gives Crusader archers poor visibility to pin down Ottoman riders from a distance.
Soon, messengers from both flanks of the Hungarian crusaders came reporting.
"Your Grace! The right wing is under vigorous attack by infidel horse men trying to sabotage our defences! Three regiments are already under the verge of collapse!"
"Your Grace! The left wing is having heavy losses! Lord Gerald is requesting you to reinforce the left wing at once with the reserves! Or the Ottomans will flank us!"
John Hunyadi pulled the messenger from Lord Gerald to stand up and pointed to the forward, where the proud holy warriors of his kingdom are crawling every where wailing for aid, some with even an attached out intestine or gut covered in blood, they are mostly from the first line of defence which has already completely collapsed after three Ottoman charge attacks, while the fourth one is incoming, with their iconic strange war cries and whistles together with the red tainted feather turban on their head making them resemble the riders from hell.
"Look! Go tell your Lord Gerald! Do not be afraid!" John Hunyadi almost torn his voice yelling right beside the ear of the messenger. "Our foes are trying to force us to plunge into chaos! Lower our morales! Make our knee cap soften and run away so that they can have a fancy time chasing us down one by one with their cursed blades! Tell everyone to calm down! Those foes are not demons!"
The messenger gulped, bit his teeth and picked up his blade – which is already full of dents and scratches from the fighting, and rushed back to his post.
"Spread the order! Lit all the torches and flames, cavalries division prepare for action and expel this wave of enemy after they tries to fall back, front line infantry stick close to their unit banners and try to preserve as many lives as possible!"
"What about the reserves! Your Grace!"
John Hunyadi bellowed with his broken voice. "If we are the first to move the reserves, we are doomed! You get it! Doomed!"
The horns of the Crusaders are sounded once more, numerous torches are lit chasing the fog away providing a clearer shot for Hungarian archers. The Magyar horse men led by Emeric Zápolya readied themselves gulping down wine replenishing valuable hydration. In the front line, Crusaders nervously awaits another round of enemy charges while the archers behind them yet again pulls their bow string with their already scraped skin waiting for those shadows to show up breaking through the mist, then they can send their arrow of vengeance for their brothers right onto the forehead of those unbelievers of God.