Chapter 198: 193: Hooves From the North

"You played us like a damn fiddle…" 

The Despot snarled at Zaganos Pasha nastily after every one's away. 

But Zaganos Pasha did not like seem he care by the single bit. He sat down beside the table and started eating rasp berries. "Well, it is a fair trade, you get what you want, I get what I want, I don't see a problem here."

"Hmph." The Despot refused to continue on this topic and continued his prayers. 

"I would like to say that we really, really had a good time cooperating with each other." Giggled Zaganos Pasha as he raised his cup and gave the Despot a toast. "As according to the deal, you shall now be independent, Edirne shall no longer send you any commands or instructions, the Ottomans and the Serbians shall have a mutual diplomatic relationship, although I find it bizarre why you do not want to be, you know, a part in our big family."

"Hmph." 

"As promised, I shall cede you the cities I have said earlier, you can now send your men to those places where my men will present you the keys to the gates… But just take this in mind." 

Zaganos Pasha stood up and strolled to the front of the Despot looking at the coffin. 

"Remember, what I have given you, I can also choose to have it back, so you better, better be quiet, obedient, and do not think of anything funny like this time, or else, I will come to deal with you and your kingdom, personally." 

Then, he laughed and straight walked out of the tent, leaving the seventy plus years old Despot seated there with two lines of tears flow down his rugged full of wrinkles skin. 

…

"We got played like a damn fiddle!' John Hunyadi slammed the rock beside the dampened camp fire woods after going through all the past events inside his head. "We got outplayed by those bastards!" 

His guard leaned up his head scrubbing his eyes and looked at his general in the dark. "Your Grace, take the precious time to rest, and please try not to attract any attention…" 

"That bastard Zaganos Pasha…" The King Regent lowered his voice biting his teeth, and then leaned down once more starring at the stary night trying to get some rest sneezing and coughing, trembling from the freezing night wind under the gaze of night owls and howls of wolves prowling the mountains. 

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Slowly he fell into a strange sleep of half asleep and half awake feeling that he is getting burnt by flames from inside his body tormenting all his livers and guts beaming him with heat, while on the outside of the skin he feels his soul is trapped inside a beneath zero point blizzard, sneezing and coughing constantly as he feels the grip of death slowly seizes him. 

He is suffering an infection and fever on his wound. 

Unconsciously he feels that there are something lurking around in the woods, as he tries hard to open his eyes he looks around him and finds a pack of wolves dragging the body of a man who collapsed on the way today back into the woods silently leaving a trail of blood behind, feeling way too tired, exhausted and weak he too, like the other Hungarian Crusaders, continued sleeping. 

The next morning his guards panicked when they found out that their general failed to wake up no matter how they try, and immediately they found out that the whole body of the King Regent is inflamed, giving them no choice but to continue going placing the King Regent on a cart they 'expropriated' from the residents of a nearby village, greatly slowing down their speed. 

And thus, it came as no surprise when in the noon next day, their trails are caught by Ottoman Akıncı scouts scattered in the area, and their where abouts are exposed to Ottoman calvary corps. Who got the specific instruction from their general Zaganos Pasha, that if they catch any tail of the Crusaders and they suspect that their King Regent that John Hunyadi is there, eliminate him once for all, as this man, according to Zaganos Pasha, is gravely dangerous.

The Ottomans acted fast, picking up full speed along the tracks after the Crusaders totally uncaring about whether the speed combined with the road will damage the hooves of their horses. They advanced like a swirl of wind to a gaping ten Roman miles in half a day and catching up with the hundreds of Hungarian Crusaders, surrounding them on a hill in a place called Izvor Mahala. 

The Crusaders, with only a few hundred of them, is being encircled again by an enemy that is much smaller in size than them. But they have already lost the wills and morale to fight, they would rather sit on top of the small hill waiting for more and more Ottomans to come reinforcing the encirclement until they are suffocated. 

John Hunyadi still has not woke up yet, in a bad state with a pale face, sweating all over the body, dried cracked lips and shivering body murmuring for water, though there are no running water sources on this puny hill, unless miracle happens. 

How they wish that Moses can descend at this perfect time saving them from all the troubles by perhaps… creating a barrier between them and the Ottomans using rocks and dirt?

Of course, that would not have happened, if not this book will be put into the fantasy genre. 

However, it seems like God do not want to see these brave Christians die, and before the Ottomans are planning to get off their horses and lay an assault on the enemies on the hill before night falls ending their task for the day, a series of sounds of hooves knocking against the plains can be heard, and their faces immediately turned serious.

Because these sound of hooves are not from the South.

It is from the North.

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