1453: Revival of Byzantium
"We only have to kick in the door and the whole rotten structure will come crashing down."
- Operation Barbarossa
A few horse men showed up in a distance and stopped there observing in the direction for a few brief minutes as if taking down some notes, and soon ran off after the frustrated Ottoman commander sent a dozen men chasing in their direction.
However, the dozen men never returned, after a long time just as the Ottoman commander is getting ready to launch the assault, which immediately made him realise that there are something not right. Those men are riders who are experts in finding their directions even in the most difficult terrain, thus it is a nonsense if anyone would suggest that they went lost in the plains.
The only possibility is that they might never come back…
Alerted, the Ottoman commander sent another squadron of riders to get ready and set off as look outs searching for any possible enemy trails.
But it is already way too late for him to realise it.
A series of sound of horses neighing and knocking against the Earth can be heard from a distance fast approaching the premise, turning out to be an army of fully armed knights with their armour glittering against the dimming sun light, and upon seeing the Ottomans, they stopped in a few hundred meters away getting up grouped together in a formation, and charged towards the Ottomans like a pack of rolling thunders sent through by God's wraith.
The Ottomans had no choice but to face these knights' heads on, and had a solid good taste of these medieval version tanks protected with probably the finest armour in Europe spread from the city states in Italia totally unlike the usual light cavalries of the Magyars or the Persians they have been facing frequently before. These Ottoman riders often find themselves getting caught in a very awkward situation whereby their blades are not able to penetrate through those metal containers of the knights unless they find a gap, but their opponents can easily knock them down the horse or strike their blade right through their armour. Thus, the Ottomans had to disperse scattering away to be reorganized.
The knights approached the Hungarians flying their banners showing signs that they mean no hostile.
It is the banners of the Bosnians.
The tense atmosphere around this hill dispersed as the Hungarians sat back on the ground gaping for air with their shirt and woolen tunic wet from their sweat, they knows very well that they got very lucky the Ottomans are being cautious not to attack so fast estimating the numbers of the Crusaders, not knowing that the Hungarian Crusaders are just like already crumbling totally unable to put up a fight, just like a door with a rotten structure that only needs a kick.
One rider approached the Hungarians on the slope, lifted up his helmet mask revealing another face that looks like in the age of fifties, and spitted out a series of words in a questioning tone in a foreign tone that non of the Hungarian Crusader understood.
"Pozdrav sveti ratnici, ja sam Stjepan Tomaš, rex Bosniae, ili Kralj Bošnjaka, Došao sam sa mojim vojnicima od Boga na zapovijed od mog dobrog druga/priljatelja virtues János Hunyadi."
The knight is startled for a while, then climbed down the horse and took off his helmet waving his ashen long hair in the air and walked straight to where the sound came from scrutinising the man lying down there.
"Yes, that is me, I have came."
"You took a hell a lot of time to arrive, that many people are complaining about your speed." The King Regent forced a grin on his face and smacked the knight on his boots with his sweaty palm.
"Kept you waiting huh?" The knight grinned back pulling the King Regent up from the ground.
John Hunyadi's guards stepped forward as part of their duty trying to protect their sovereign and is pushed away by the knight as he stands up supporting John Hunyadi on his shoulders.
"Greetings, holy warriors, I am Stjepan Tomaš, rex Bosniae, or King of the Bosnians, I have arrived with my warriors of God, here on the request of my dear friend of virtues János Hunyadi."
And of course, no one knows what the hell is this man is talking about, tough they can assume straight away by this man's armour, his posture, and the way he talks, that this man came from no simple background.
John Hunyadi coughed waving at his men. "Stand clear, lets go, this man before you.. ahem, ahem, is the King of the Bosnians… Lets move out fast."
Hearing this, the men in the surrounding jumped and clapped cheering, though they soon quietened down fearing that making such a loud fuss would attract the attention of even more troubles, but every one can see from their eyes the plain delight hidden in the glistering eyes, the sentiment of hope, just like how a man who are going to die of thirst in the desert suddenly finding an oasis.
The men moved off again, with John Hunyadi finally receiving some care riding on a horse beside the king of Bosnia, and the Hungarians following them in the centre with the Bosnian knights acting as rear, front and back guards looking out for potential trouble. Which the night gave them a perfect cover up allowing the almost thousand strong combined force slithering across the plains successfully joining the main army of the Bosnian Crusaders which have already set up camps by mid night.
They are finally safe now.
With the burden of stress and tightened nerves on Ottomans finally laid off their shoulders, the emotional stress took over them with almost every Hungarian soldier collapsing on the ground sobering recounting on all these terrifying events and lose of pals, neighbours, families, and friends in less than a day's time.
Chapter 199: 194: The Bosnians
- Operation Barbarossa
A few horse men showed up in a distance and stopped there observing in the direction for a few brief minutes as if taking down some notes, and soon ran off after the frustrated Ottoman commander sent a dozen men chasing in their direction.
However, the dozen men never returned, after a long time just as the Ottoman commander is getting ready to launch the assault, which immediately made him realise that there are something not right. Those men are riders who are experts in finding their directions even in the most difficult terrain, thus it is a nonsense if anyone would suggest that they went lost in the plains.
The only possibility is that they might never come back…
Alerted, the Ottoman commander sent another squadron of riders to get ready and set off as look outs searching for any possible enemy trails.
But it is already way too late for him to realise it.
A series of sound of horses neighing and knocking against the Earth can be heard from a distance fast approaching the premise, turning out to be an army of fully armed knights with their armour glittering against the dimming sun light, and upon seeing the Ottomans, they stopped in a few hundred meters away getting up grouped together in a formation, and charged towards the Ottomans like a pack of rolling thunders sent through by God's wraith.
The Ottomans had no choice but to face these knights' heads on, and had a solid good taste of these medieval version tanks protected with probably the finest armour in Europe spread from the city states in Italia totally unlike the usual light cavalries of the Magyars or the Persians they have been facing frequently before. These Ottoman riders often find themselves getting caught in a very awkward situation whereby their blades are not able to penetrate through those metal containers of the knights unless they find a gap, but their opponents can easily knock them down the horse or strike their blade right through their armour. Thus, the Ottomans had to disperse scattering away to be reorganized.
The knights approached the Hungarians flying their banners showing signs that they mean no hostile.
It is the banners of the Bosnians.
The tense atmosphere around this hill dispersed as the Hungarians sat back on the ground gaping for air with their shirt and woolen tunic wet from their sweat, they knows very well that they got very lucky the Ottomans are being cautious not to attack so fast estimating the numbers of the Crusaders, not knowing that the Hungarian Crusaders are just like already crumbling totally unable to put up a fight, just like a door with a rotten structure that only needs a kick.
One rider approached the Hungarians on the slope, lifted up his helmet mask revealing another face that looks like in the age of fifties, and spitted out a series of words in a questioning tone in a foreign tone that non of the Hungarian Crusader understood.
"Pozdrav sveti ratnici, ja sam Stjepan Tomaš, rex Bosniae, ili Kralj Bošnjaka, Došao sam sa mojim vojnicima od Boga na zapovijed od mog dobrog druga/priljatelja virtues János Hunyadi."
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The Hungarians and the knight are like sitting ducks each saying words that the other side cannot understand while making hand signs to try to make the others understand but all failed. But just about the well mannered knight is around his limit to blow off the kettle throwing a tantrum, a weak voice came under the dimming sun. "Is that you? Thomas?"The knight is startled for a while, then climbed down the horse and took off his helmet waving his ashen long hair in the air and walked straight to where the sound came from scrutinising the man lying down there.
"Yes, that is me, I have came."
"You took a hell a lot of time to arrive, that many people are complaining about your speed." The King Regent forced a grin on his face and smacked the knight on his boots with his sweaty palm.
"Kept you waiting huh?" The knight grinned back pulling the King Regent up from the ground.
John Hunyadi's guards stepped forward as part of their duty trying to protect their sovereign and is pushed away by the knight as he stands up supporting John Hunyadi on his shoulders.
And of course, no one knows what the hell is this man is talking about, tough they can assume straight away by this man's armour, his posture, and the way he talks, that this man came from no simple background.
John Hunyadi coughed waving at his men. "Stand clear, lets go, this man before you.. ahem, ahem, is the King of the Bosnians… Lets move out fast."
Hearing this, the men in the surrounding jumped and clapped cheering, though they soon quietened down fearing that making such a loud fuss would attract the attention of even more troubles, but every one can see from their eyes the plain delight hidden in the glistering eyes, the sentiment of hope, just like how a man who are going to die of thirst in the desert suddenly finding an oasis.
The men moved off again, with John Hunyadi finally receiving some care riding on a horse beside the king of Bosnia, and the Hungarians following them in the centre with the Bosnian knights acting as rear, front and back guards looking out for potential trouble. Which the night gave them a perfect cover up allowing the almost thousand strong combined force slithering across the plains successfully joining the main army of the Bosnian Crusaders which have already set up camps by mid night.
They are finally safe now.
With the burden of stress and tightened nerves on Ottomans finally laid off their shoulders, the emotional stress took over them with almost every Hungarian soldier collapsing on the ground sobering recounting on all these terrifying events and lose of pals, neighbours, families, and friends in less than a day's time.
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