In the main tent at the center of the red sea of pitched lodges, Sultan looked over a map with several of his pashas and janissary aghas. Baybur stood behind Muzaffer Agha, though he had no influence on the debate now going on between the high ranked officials of the warfare. Everyone had beads of sweat flowing down and some aghas, even Çetin Pasha, had scars left from the past assaults that resulted in failure.
Baybur shook his head at the shouts and the raised voices, turned his gaze to the gap between the tent to the outside. The smokes from the Basilica’s maw hinted at it’s recent bombardment, and the yells of the smiths working on its body rang quite harsh in the ears of the surrounding soldiers. The cannon itself, after all, needed constant repairs because of the generated force and aggressive backlash from its aggravated size, which in turn caused others to be flustered.
‘’We need to get those Venetian ships taken care of-’’ Muzaffer agha’s voice sounded, Baybur clasped his yatagan’s hilt and looked over. ‘’-We have to pressure them into diverting their forces. It is not like Zagan Pasha can do much watching everything from other side.’’
‘’...then build a road.’’ Sultan opened his mouth.
‘’Build a road through Galata to the shores of Golden Horn. It doesn’t need to be perfect, just make it wider than the base of a caravel.’’
‘’My Sultan?’’
‘’We’ll move the ships through the land-’’ Sultan waved his hand and took the map from the table. ‘’-Then bombard the walls down.’’
*********
Few days later in late April, the ships carried from the Galata arrived at the eastern sea walls of Constantinople. Venetian ships and the colony of Pera, now faced with a great threat, assaulted the incoming fleet, to no avail. Emperor Constantine ordered a bulk of his army to now face the forces of Zagan Pasha and the ottoman ships, including the few pieces of artillery left after a failed assault by the ottomans, of which the rest were obliterated in a bombardment. Late into the night, Byzantine side tried to destroy the ottoman vessels with fireships, but in a matter of either foresight or internal intelligence, the ottoman side anticipated the assault and defended their vessels. There were forty italians that managed to swim their way back to the shore, but in the orders of Sultan they were brutally impaled on the beach facing the defenders. The screams rang far and wide.
Now left with not much choice, the crews of the remaining Venetian ships joined the defence on the walls with the others, then responded to Sultan’s provocation by executing ottoman prisoners on the walls, facing their own people.
*********
The siege proceeded with up and downs- several assaults were tried on the theodosian walls with the cover of the artilleries of the ottoman side, yet to no avail. Walls couldn’t be breached and each trike resulted in more deaths, though no corpse was left under the walls and were brought back to the ottoman side by soldiers.
*********
Once the calendar hit the middle of May, Baybur encountered workers from his homeland. Sappers, to be exact, who intended to dig tunnels under the theodosian walls to infiltrate the city. They dug with pickaxes and shovels deep trenches, put beams and pillars made of wood to hold the soil above them, and kept going forward all the way to the city. There weren't any guards assigned to them, though, and only supervising officials.
This proved to be a chance for the eventual disaster.
One night screams rose from the tunnels with pleas for help, awakening a number of soldiers and alerting a larger amount patrolling in the encampment. Once rushed inside, they met with their foes of Byzantine side, counter-sappers who made tunnels of their own to meet with Ottoman side. Contrary to the serbian sappers, though, they were soldiers and armed civilians that rose in support of the emperor, so what happened was a simple matter of slaughter. They pushed deep down and almost reached the ottoman encampment, where they were stopped by the janissaries and bashi-bozhuks spread around the frontlines.
This was followed by three more tunnels, and three more failures. It was then understood Byzantine anticipated something as such with ease, though some said a few officials were taken prisoner by the enemy. Digging under the walls were the easiest way, after all, to bypass the defences that protected the state for a millennium. Of the three more attempts, one ended with a large amount of deaths from both sides by the eruption of Greek Fire, collapsing the whole tunnel into remnants of earth and dust.
*********
On the twenty-seventh of May, it was apparent no relief force was coming to the Emperor’s rescue. A solemn air encroached on the whole city.
On the twenty-eighth, rituals were held in both Constantinople and in the Ottoman encampment. In Hagia Sophia, Emperor prayed with nobilities from Latin and Greek origins, with the attendance of the Christian representatives. In encampment, apart from the Christian forces under ottoman rule, soldiers performed their salaat and prayed for victory.
The midnight passed, and the dawn approached. Arms were readied, officials were in their place, cannons were loaded, talks of glory and plunder were made. Now, Baybur stood among three thousand Janissaries, situated in the road leading to the gate of Saint Romanus, awaiting the orders of the assault. Muzaffer agha was there as well, at the front with his bulky physique, and with a shield and a curved sword grasped in his robust palms. There were gulps, dry coughs, series of blinkings, and deep breaths’ sounds all over the regiment.
The same scene happened at the north, where less-trained azaps faced the gates of Blachernae and Kaligaria, at the south near the gate of Pege, and at their back, on the hill where Basilica stood with its readied shell awaiting an order to fire.
A deep drum voice exploded right at that moment, then a deafening boom that shook the air itself with the soundwaves alone. A black silhouette, size of perhaps half a house, passed over them and crashed onto the Theodosian walls at the gate of San Romanus. The stone ball exploded into a shower of rubble and crushed the walls’ bottom into a wide gap. A tremor passed through the scalp of everyone, then the flag-bearer raised the three crescent moons over the green to the air.
‘’CHARGE!’’
*********
Baybur moved with his regiment amidst the raised clouds of dust from the footsteps, they charged down in a half-misshaped line and reached in front of the gap in no time. The janissaries at the forefront came face to face with the Byzantine defenders now holding the gap, then lunged forward at them.
Screams rose instantly.
Clashes of the swords and shields resounded while Baybur pressed forward through the crowd. They seemed to push back the enemy with the initial attack, as with him and Muzaffer agha several dozens of men continued moving forward. Their streak lasted short, for large amounts of Genoese mercenaries approached with armed civilians. Their faces brimmed with hostility and bloodlust as they struck.
The three thousand regiment was getting pushed back and encircled, Muzaffer agha shouted orders and they gathered into a nonuniform line to defend for a moment. One side pressed on and the other continued to defend, but it was clear casualties were too much for the janissaries. With each swing one red gown fell to the ground, with it the body of a ottoman. Blood flowed deep and cast a red shade to the soil as the clash continued.
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Baybur swung his sword in front of him to block the strike of a mercenary, then took a few steps back near to his compatriots. They were surrounded by some twenty men, but Baybur and his group had only eight men. Muzaffer agha was even further in the enemy line than them, though, Baybur watched him clash with three men by himself and cut their hands.
While he was watching the encirclement widened in range and more people poured in. By now, at most a few minutes passed yet over a few dozen died already. Baybur felt a chill at his back and glanced at the side to see a company of mercenaries coming in, with them a man in armor akin to chainmail. Muzaffer agha saw him, too, and his face sprouted with hatred from seeing some kind of arch-enemy.
‘’Giovanni!’’ Muzaffer agha shouted and pushed forward towards Giovanni Giustiniani, the leader of the seven-hundred-men mercenary group. Baybur didn’t stop to watch either, he assessed the situation in a second. If Giovanni fell, they would gain the upper hand. If Muzaffer agha fell, they were done for in mere minutes.
‘’Assist our agha!’’ A janissary, however, acted even before him and lunged forward. He brandished his yatagan and pushed the soldiers in front of him with ferocity. His sword befell on a head and the head was gone, his slash cut through the armor and the waist was gone. The sheer violence he inflicted with each strike caused the defenders to get more agitated, and their bloodshot eyes turned into a crimson tint of blood as they pushed forward as well. Baybur and the few near grouped together and rushed towards the Muzaffer agha, now clashing with Giovanni’s foreguards. The man himself, however, didn’t cover or hide. Instead he rushed towards them with some men as well, and his eyes glinted with avaricious bloodlust.
Baybur ran ahead of his group and leaped towards one of the mercenaries, then swung his sword downward. The mercenary raised his shield to the direction of Baybur’s sword and lowered his body to hide under the cover. The sword slammed on to the shield, it gave the sound of a shrill drum but didn’t cave or shake. The mercenary peeked out and stabbed with his own sword at him.
Baybur took two steps back and raised his own shield, the same bang noise spread and his hand turned numb. Hmm!? Muzaffer agha’s shout sounded behind him, but Baybur couldn’t afford to get distracted. There were clashing men all around him, who would turn him into mincemeat in a moment’s notice once their own battle ended, so he had to take the initiative to do it first.
He ran forward to his opponent and raised his sword to strike, the man covered behind his shield in response. Yet the sword didn’t fall- instead, Baybur pushed forward and bashed his shield onto the man’s own from above. The sheer weight caused the mercenary to grunt and take a step back, but once Baybur saw a slight sneer behind the shield he knew he screwed.
A sword flashed before his eyes and headed to his lower body, then a sharp pain burnt through his nerves in his thigh. Baybur let loose a harsh grunt and bashed his shield again, forcing the man to take back his sword from his thigh. Baybur took three forceful steps back and cast his eyes to the deep stab in his thigh. It bled like there was no end to blood and the pain almost caused him to collapse.
Fucker! Baybur lost his cool from the pain and lunged forward, his brows knitted into a frown that could only indicate the lust for blood. He slashed towards the mercenary and the man used his shield again, the sword didn’t fall, but no shield bashed as well. Just as the mercenary peeked out, he saw Baybur running to another duo fighting. Baybur approached too fast for the defender to react and pushed his sword into the neck of the enemy, then cut through his neck. The head fell onto the ground with a spray of blood.
Amidst the shouts and yells and wails of people around them, Baybur forced himself to move forward. The mercenary from the before tried to chase but was intercepted by the janissary he relieved from an opponent. Now left with no opposition in clear sight, Baybur turned his head towards the clashing Muzaffer agha and Giustiniani.
Their blows caused tremors to pass through their own arms, he saw, and their expertise surpassed any he saw until now. Each men were the most seasoned and the most experienced out of all in this stage of the battle, decades meant nothing in front of their skills surpassing mere effort. This was the talent, he thought, to dominate and battle.
They were now in a stalemate and no one in sight had a free hand to lend help to each.
Baybur grinned with his now bloodied teeth.
He spat the trickles of blood in his mouth to the ground and rushed forth. His wounded thigh got number with each passing second and he knew it wouldn’t be long before it gave in to the physical limitations of the body. So he mustered all strength in his body to go forward.
Was there any meaning to do so? There was. Though he had great ambitions and had a revenge in his hand, still, with a lifetime he owed to Caner and his own country, it wouldn’t mean a shit if he died here. Retreat was out of question, too, for deserting meant instant execution. To change the shift of the battle and ensure he would be safe later on, it would be the most logical thing to take down the enemy commander and crush the morale of their enemies. With his now wounded self, all he had to do later on was to act like he wanted to fight yet couldn’t, so he would be a some kind of ghazi.
So he ran forth.
Baybur brandished his sword and passed by many dueling and brawling men, he stepped over the corpses of his own corps and of his enemy without batting an eye. He crushed the hand of a half-alive janissary he noticed laying down, yet it didn’t bother him as he moved forward. He passed by a mercenary whose eyes still shook with the lack of a body under his waist, he didn’t even react. His eyes were locked onto two figures fighting, huffing from exhaustion, yet finding strength in their hearts to cross swords against each other again.
Now Baybur was too close to them to not notice, and both recognized which side he stood instantly. Surrounding them the bulk of his mercenaries became frantic, they tried to push their opponents or kill them with more haste to stop the intervention. Yet the janissaries also became more spirited, the opportunity helped them to regain some kind of bravery and let them fight harsher. Muzaffer agha had a sharp glint in his eye as he became more ferocious as well, letting go of defending. Giovanni didn’t have any reaction, he just became calmer instead. It seemed like he didn’t mind the extra burden, but in the eyes of everyone they knew he would be in a precarious situation.
Baybur was now six steps away from them, his left leg gave the signs of giving up and the burn from the wound flared up again. He stumbled for a moment and almost fell- but he stabbed his sword to the ground to stand up. Giovanni laughed and pushed Muzaffer agha into the corner, his strikes became much forceful as well. Baybur, once he regained his footing, took his sword out of the earth and took two more steps. He was two steps of away from the range of their swords now, and his own sword was readied to strike.
‘’BAYBURRR!’’ Muzaffer agha shouted and lunged forward, Baybur felt an indescribable pain shoot through his leg to the every nerve in his body, but he still pushed forward. He put every ounce of strength into that leap, into that slash, into that ferocious strike that sealed the fate of Giovanni. His body leaped up, an indescribable pain shot through every nerve in his body from his thigh, but he didn’t budge.
His sword rounded through the other side of Giovanni and the slash of Muzaffer agha closed in from the other side.
Trapped, now with no chance of survival, Giovanni seemed to make a decision.
Time stopped for Baybur at that point, as countless thoughts passed through his head. Who would Giovanni aim for?
Muzaffer agha for sure, Baybur concluded. There was no reason to aim for him, he was of no importance in the command chain and before he inflicted any kind of wound on Giovanni, his worth remained as a simple foot soldier.
There was no reason, there was no need to strike him.
YET!
YET WHY DID HE SWING TOWARDS HIM!!?!?!?!?!?
Baybur’s posture was defined, and irreversible. His sword would cut the waist of Giovanni, it was destined, but how much damage he could inflict was decided by Muzaffer agha himself. What did it mean? It meant the overall damage Giovanni would suffer from him was higher than Muzaffer agha.
BUT WHY!?
His eyes slanted to the side, to the sword of Muzaffer agha who was supposed to attack, which now stood next to its sheath.
BUT WHY!?
His eyes glanced at the mouth of Muzaffer agha, opened, and his eyes narrowed with pity.
BUT WHY!?
Muzaffer agha’s lips moved, as the first word sounded Baybur felt something cut through his neck halfway in. A pain he never felt surfaced, and his eyes shot out of the skull from the mere shock.
BUT WHY!?
The second word sounded, and the sharp thing cut through the entirety of his neck, and his dangling eyes flew into the air with his head.
BUT WHY!?
Moments before his consciousness closed, his head crashed onto the ground, his eyes turned blank, his body fell, his grip loosened, his brain shut off, Baybur processed what he heard.
BUT WHY!?
‘’For sultan...’’