1453: Revival of Byzantium

Chapter 305: 300: The Escape Starts Now


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"You are well aware that it is not numbers or strength that bring the victories in war. No, it is when one side goes against the enemy with the gods' gift of a stronger morale that their adversaries, as a rule, cannot withstand them"

-        The Persian Expedition, Xenophon

The six thousand strong cavalry forces, a tremendous combat force for any state in this period of time almost unrealistic for a ruler like Antonius with a city and several city. Though in fact these 'cavalries' are not really that kind of 'cavalries' like the knights in the west or horde horse men in the east, they are more like mounted infantries only trained on horse back for no more than two months. But that is enough, that is more than enough, they might have the lower hand in one to one combat against those experienced Ottoman riders, but when they formed up as one they become a collective formidable force that seems unstoppable  in their foe's eyes. 

"The game is set!" Abdullah heaved a sigh of relief as he has seen the immense power of a cavalry battle group charge before. "There is no more time for our foes to react, congratulations! My brother!" 

"Aye! Indeed! The dice is cast, and the game is set!" Antonius made a round of cheerful chortles towards the sky having a mouthful of dust and sand in the process, he quickly donned his mask and sighed to the back. "How sad it is that Giovanni and Constantine is not here to see this with us, I bet that they would have enjoyed this sight." 

The other guards around Antonius made a laugh too. 

Although it is only a little longer than a mile between the charging point and the Ottoman formation, but that is already enough, once the cavalries start charging on a broad plain it can no longer be stopped by mere human power. 

Ibrahim Pasha sat there on the ground watching the enemy cavalries coming right at hm with a pale face, he tried to open his mouth to say some thing at least seeing the impending disaster, but no matter how he tried he just stared vaguely in the distance failing to vocalise any word from his mouth. Because he knows that every thing is futile now against this amount of cavalry, it is over. 

Combined with agility, strength, crash, sacrifice, the Ottomans are forced in to a shattered retreat the moment they came in to contact with the Roman cavalries. They made their charge with a most infuriate frenzy, they cut down any living men before them indiscriminately appearing to have commenced a pre mediated offensive with the most insatiable thirst for blood, destruction and revenge, releasing that oppression in their mind that has been there escalating ever since the start of this war spending an entire month in the winter seating behind walls in muddy ground. 

With a simple crash the Ottoman infantries could no longer endure this kind of stuff, even with the Janissaries at the back holding their blades supervising the troops, it is insufficient in stopping their comrades as the fear over the Rumelians have far surpassed the fear of being executed by these bunch of Janissaries. It started with a small portion, and quickly spread to the entire army rolling back towards their camp. As the whole lot of them rolled back, organisation and order has now become totally none existent. 

"It is all over!" Ibrahim Pasha finally said the sentence that has been stuck in his throat for so damn long, and began weeping uncontrollably seating down on the ground, with several of his courtiers and body guards. 

Filled with excitement getting that touch of that old way of life again Khalid shouted out his order to the pals behind him. "Do not care about these cowards! Do not bother wasting your strength on these people! We have a few thousand men behind us they shall take care of it! All of you! Charge through the enemies breaking them apart in to smaller encircled segment squashing their chain of command, then we shall go for hot pursuit on those enemies who have just got away! They are a bigger fish to catch!" 

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Never has Khalid ever thought in his life that as a former slave he would has the chance to get back to his horse leading thousands of men galloping as one devastating an army, it made him feel like he has come back alive, he feels that this is the high tide of his entire life. He roared, he laughed, he cheered, he smiled as he continued squeezing the abdomen of his mount with his boots making it accelerate even faster waving his cutlass left and right chopping down one of another enemy running from him. Never has he thought that this army which seems to be so formidable is actually so weak and fragile. 

Though there is still one thing Khalid and his men has missed, is that weird goat bearded  man seating right there on the mud beside their hooves weeping out loud forming a strong contrast with the surrounding where the others are either all running away, or all kneeling on the ground with their hands high up in the air. Khalid was way too anxious about reaching the retreating Ottoman army and get the head prize of hunting down the Grand Vizier of the Ottomans Candarli Halil Pasha, that he failed to realise the true enemy commander that he has be fighting against for the past days is just right there among a crowd. 

Of course he would not really give a damn even if he has known the true identity of this goat bearded man, because he knows in his mind that since the moment his cavalries came in to contact with the enemies in high velocity, all is over for the Ottomans and the prior task is to encircle as many enemies as possible, the focus is no longer on those Ottoman high ranking officers, these are the task for the infantries behind. 

This is a total devastation for the Ottomans, for the entire Europe too that no one has ever seen in the past, none can be compared with it in the present, and perhaps it is not ever going to happen again in the future. 

The sentiments of hopelessness and desperation continued to spread to inside the camp as they too saw the massive amount of enemy cavalries charging right at them slicing through their comrades in front. The Ottomans still in camp abandoned all of their orders, formations, organisations or what so ever and started running from the Roman cutlass too in a disordered state, fighting with each other for a quick way out of the camp. 

However what made things lucky for them is that these Roman cavalries seems to have zero interest in them just passing by them cutting down a few soldiers wearing armors in the process leaving the rest there halting their steps, and then leave a cavalry here to supervise them ordering them to sit on the ground in a cluster, awaiting the infantries from behind to take over their job, after that they join back in to the hot pursuit. 

For the bulk of the Ottoman troops who are already on their way they faced a journey even more exhausting than their pals who have already surrendered back in their camps, with out fortifications along the road they had to continue marching along the road for miles trying to reach for the nearest Ottoman fort which is still two days away by foot tens of miles away. 

Their organisation has entirely messed up with the general not knowing where his commanders are, the commanders not knowing where is the soldiers he command, and the soldiers too cannot find their commanders. They cannot even stop to take a rest, with out any one providing them supplies or logistic support on the road, and still having to endure a never ending assault suffering casualties by the Roman cavalries following behind them. 

The Ottomans did put in some effort to resist under the lead of some lords and nobles, forming up small formations of a few hundred people trying to stop the enemies in their tracks, but soon they dispersed with only one salvo of arrows and a charge by a force led by an African looking enemy commander, who was there shouting a sentence in a unclear Ottoman tongue when he galloped past them with his troops and did not even bother to take them as captive. 

"If you want to live, clear off the road! And wait here with some self discipline! We have no time to take you as prisoners of war!" 

Surprisingly the enemies, looking at the corpse of their noble temporary commander under the hooves of the Rumelians, obeyed obediently seating down on the side of the road awaiting their enemies to come, only because they are way too thirsty and hungry to continue escaping.

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