1453: Revival of Byzantium
The time, and the enemies of Rome it accompanies, shall not wait for the dear and honourable nobles on the high walls to finish their brawl.
The majority of the Ottoman army arrived on the outskirts of Constantinople by dusk. It is a Sunday, when usually citizens of Constantinople are taking a break to do their prayers and mass in churches and monasteries.
The Ottoman's war machines erect into the skies, their armies march under the sunset, casting them in a colour of shadows, they raised their crimson crescent battle flag on hill tops and shouting out various slogans to the soldiers marching into the camps below. Mehmed, in his furry coat covering his mirror armour observes the surroundings, listening to the church bells ringing in a distance and the blowing of Ottoman army horns. His eyes swept through the fields, then he observed something and got off his horse.
Mehmed walks the battlefield, standing on the same spot that his father, the Sultan Murad II once stood when he tried to take the city, but failed. Countless other armies in the history who also tried taking Constantinople either ended in a disastrous failure, or had to run back to where they came from on their tails. Mehmed's own fate, when he decided that he shall stand here like his father, also remains unknown.
"Lataftahanna al-Qustantiniyya wa lani`ma al-amiru amiruha wa lani`maal-jayshu dhalika al-jaysh…."
"There will be a nation that shall conquer Constantinople… And when it happens, it shall be the most excellent leader, leading the most feared and battle-born army…"
Mehmed mutters the ancient hadith under his breathe, giving him the spirit and confidence that he shall accomplish something that his father has never achieved, and prove to his vassals and the outside world that he, Mehmed, is more capable than his deceased father.
"By this age Alexander has already conquered this land, and I am still pondering before a thousand year old city." Mehmed jeered to himself, as he continues walking the fields, his hands touching the tall withered wild grass that surrounds him as he looks up towards the walls, where two pairs of eyes also looking down at him.
Back on the walls.
Constantine and Giovanni left the massive brawling session and stood by the walls observing the Ottoman side of battlefield, they cannot really see anything from this distance, the only thing they can realise from the sheer amount of flags, standards and banners flying in the skies, the non-stop sound of horns from their army that almost covered the ringing of bells here in the city, that the Ottomans this time came seriously, it is an all in – either defeat or be defeated.
Constantine, accompanied by the Mega Doux Loukas Notaras and Roman chief historian George Sphrantzes, all has a stern look on their face despite the fact that they are thinking about different things.
"I was really hoping this day, this menace would never come here…" Constantine whispered.
"It is what we do subsequently after their arrival… that makes it important." Giovanni smiled at the emperor. The emperor tried to smile back but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot hide that worrying look from his eyes.
Afterwards, Giovanni invited the bunch of still arguing nobles and the emperor to get down the walls just in case there is an Ottoman sharp shooter sneaking in the tall grass under the walls trying to find his luck for a prey of the day, he had a pretty good experience with Ottoman sharp shooters before. The emperor got off the walls and to organise a motivational speech in the Monastery of Holy Apostles on the Fourth Hill to boost the morales of the citizens, and show them that their emperor is still with them fighting on the frontier. While Mega Doux immediately went back to his estate to give instructions to transfer his properties to Venezia before the sea routes out of the city are completely sealed.
During times of dilemma everyone flies away in different directions.
Giovanni continued patrolling the walls making sure there are no spots of leftovers on the walls, allocating hidden scouts outside the city, arranging soldiers to defend various parts of the walls, chasing nobles, ladies and citizens who are spectating the Ottomans like they are on holiday down under the walls.
The clergies and fathers from the various churches in Constantinople came onto the walls too, they appeared more trustworthy than what they are thought to be, coming up and down among the soldiers, building medical camps and preparing medical supplies and medical services. While those 'Old Ones' as Giovanni describes goes around performing mass and prayers for the soldiers before they are willingly sent to die. Giovanni even saw the Ecumenical Patriarch Athanasius II on those walls.
"In the name of the Holy Father, the Holy Son, and the Holy Spirit…" An old clergy with a long goat ashen beard is conducting a mass for a group of soldiers on the walls beside a watch tower, sprinkling some holy water with a spoon, a younger clergy behind him follows holding the standard of a Greek Cross and an Icon of Archangel Michael. The warriors surrounding him all kneeled down, helmets removed and heads lowered to accept the holy water.
Giovanni strolled towards them, patted the old clergy on his shoulder and smiled while he disrupted their ceremony. "I and my boys here need more than just spiritual support here, Father."
Then he walked away and continued surveying through the walls and the solders. He frowned as honestly some parts of the walls are not in good condition. It might not be noticed on the outside but on the inside, some of these thousand years old bricks has already softened from thousands of years of rains and wind.
Suddenly, he smiled a familiar perfume on the walls coming from another hooded shadowy figure.
"What are you doing here?"
Chapter 58: 53: The Hadith
The majority of the Ottoman army arrived on the outskirts of Constantinople by dusk. It is a Sunday, when usually citizens of Constantinople are taking a break to do their prayers and mass in churches and monasteries.
The Ottoman's war machines erect into the skies, their armies march under the sunset, casting them in a colour of shadows, they raised their crimson crescent battle flag on hill tops and shouting out various slogans to the soldiers marching into the camps below. Mehmed, in his furry coat covering his mirror armour observes the surroundings, listening to the church bells ringing in a distance and the blowing of Ottoman army horns. His eyes swept through the fields, then he observed something and got off his horse.
Mehmed walks the battlefield, standing on the same spot that his father, the Sultan Murad II once stood when he tried to take the city, but failed. Countless other armies in the history who also tried taking Constantinople either ended in a disastrous failure, or had to run back to where they came from on their tails. Mehmed's own fate, when he decided that he shall stand here like his father, also remains unknown.
"Lataftahanna al-Qustantiniyya wa lani`ma al-amiru amiruha wa lani`maal-jayshu dhalika al-jaysh…."
"There will be a nation that shall conquer Constantinople… And when it happens, it shall be the most excellent leader, leading the most feared and battle-born army…"
Mehmed mutters the ancient hadith under his breathe, giving him the spirit and confidence that he shall accomplish something that his father has never achieved, and prove to his vassals and the outside world that he, Mehmed, is more capable than his deceased father.
"By this age Alexander has already conquered this land, and I am still pondering before a thousand year old city." Mehmed jeered to himself, as he continues walking the fields, his hands touching the tall withered wild grass that surrounds him as he looks up towards the walls, where two pairs of eyes also looking down at him.
Back on the walls.
Constantine and Giovanni left the massive brawling session and stood by the walls observing the Ottoman side of battlefield, they cannot really see anything from this distance, the only thing they can realise from the sheer amount of flags, standards and banners flying in the skies, the non-stop sound of horns from their army that almost covered the ringing of bells here in the city, that the Ottomans this time came seriously, it is an all in – either defeat or be defeated.
Constantine, accompanied by the Mega Doux Loukas Notaras and Roman chief historian George Sphrantzes, all has a stern look on their face despite the fact that they are thinking about different things.
"I was really hoping this day, this menace would never come here…" Constantine whispered.
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"Worry not, emperor." Giovanni comforted. "This day, this menace is destined to come, emperor.""It is what we do subsequently after their arrival… that makes it important." Giovanni smiled at the emperor. The emperor tried to smile back but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot hide that worrying look from his eyes.
Afterwards, Giovanni invited the bunch of still arguing nobles and the emperor to get down the walls just in case there is an Ottoman sharp shooter sneaking in the tall grass under the walls trying to find his luck for a prey of the day, he had a pretty good experience with Ottoman sharp shooters before. The emperor got off the walls and to organise a motivational speech in the Monastery of Holy Apostles on the Fourth Hill to boost the morales of the citizens, and show them that their emperor is still with them fighting on the frontier. While Mega Doux immediately went back to his estate to give instructions to transfer his properties to Venezia before the sea routes out of the city are completely sealed.
During times of dilemma everyone flies away in different directions.
Giovanni continued patrolling the walls making sure there are no spots of leftovers on the walls, allocating hidden scouts outside the city, arranging soldiers to defend various parts of the walls, chasing nobles, ladies and citizens who are spectating the Ottomans like they are on holiday down under the walls.
The clergies and fathers from the various churches in Constantinople came onto the walls too, they appeared more trustworthy than what they are thought to be, coming up and down among the soldiers, building medical camps and preparing medical supplies and medical services. While those 'Old Ones' as Giovanni describes goes around performing mass and prayers for the soldiers before they are willingly sent to die. Giovanni even saw the Ecumenical Patriarch Athanasius II on those walls.
"In the name of the Holy Father, the Holy Son, and the Holy Spirit…" An old clergy with a long goat ashen beard is conducting a mass for a group of soldiers on the walls beside a watch tower, sprinkling some holy water with a spoon, a younger clergy behind him follows holding the standard of a Greek Cross and an Icon of Archangel Michael. The warriors surrounding him all kneeled down, helmets removed and heads lowered to accept the holy water.
Giovanni strolled towards them, patted the old clergy on his shoulder and smiled while he disrupted their ceremony. "I and my boys here need more than just spiritual support here, Father."
Suddenly, he smiled a familiar perfume on the walls coming from another hooded shadowy figure.
"What are you doing here?"
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