1453: Revival of Byzantium - Chapter 489

“What are you doing here?” The Sanjek is in dismay when he saw the noble man whom he appointed to be in charge of the supplies and logistics in the intersection of Dispilio around fifteen Roman miles away. The officer, who is still there panting, hastily kneeled down banging his head repeatedly on he ground until blood started sipping out of his forehead. “Your highness! Honourable Sanjek! The supply base in Dispilio has been lost!”

The Sanjek felt like a thunder has stricken him from the seven skies upon hearing this piece of blasphemy. “I built you people a fort up to three meters tall, and I left you one thousand and five hundred soldiers as guard and supervisors, and it is all the way behind the battlefield surrounded by difficult terrains that is impossible for large military movements to go through without getting spotted, how is it possible for Dispilio to be lost?”

“Your highness, Dispilio is lost indeed, you know me I never ever dared to lie to you, not even once!” The middle aged commander broke into tears as he crawled forward hugging the thigh of the Sanjek, behaving totally without the etiquette of a nobleman. “Multiple fires suddenly broke out yesterday in various areas of the logistics depot while there is a fleet of grains and arrows being transported to the frontlines. When the fire broke out this fleet of carts are caught in absolute chaos and ended up jamming the road with the gate. In this time of urgency I dispatched half of my men to rescue the wares that has not been affected by the fire yet and help to put off the blaze, but just as we are doing all that, a group of riders, roughly two hundred plus of them, suddenly showed up in the woods and charged into the depot, setting up fire in every single place slaughtering anyone who looks like an Ottoman descent, and then left the depot before I could muster my forces back and stop them!”

“Bullshit! What a foolish idea of me to appoint such an ignorant man full of guff and gibberish talks to such an important post!” The Sanjek is furious, knowing from his experience and the commander’s words of defence that this guy before him is most probably making excuses to escape punishment. “Are you trying to convince me that a group of two hundred plus Rumelian cavalries, showed up outside the Lake of Kastoria, right under my nose? Or is it because of your incompetence? Did you break the faqih and drink alcohol on duty again? Tell me!”

The commander struggled to get up from the ground, kneeled forward again and hugged the thigh of the Sanjek even tighter. “Yes! My liege! Your highness! You got to believe me! There are two hundred plus enemies on horseback, donned in ordinary civilian clothing riding on horses used for agriculture, but they seem to be disciplined enough to carry out tough missions, I am not trying to lie to you, your highness, I can swear to you, with my life, in front of the all mighty Allah! I can make a qasam now!”

The man then kneeled towards the direction of the holy city Mecca, knocked his head on the ground gain then raising his hands up in the air. “Yüce Allah, hayatım ve itibarımla sana yemin ederim ki ben yalan söylemedim!”

Of course, the Sanjek would not believe that the people who have attacked them are just ordinary rebels and thieves hiding among the woods, it makes absolutely no sense for a bunch of barbarians in caves to have the ability to gather two hundred horsemen with sufficient discipline for this kind of operation. He almost became wordless with rage, in fact he almost wanted to pluck out the blade by his guar’s side and plunge it into the chest of the man kneeling down, the only thing that is refraining him from doing so is probably the power of the background that this nobleman came from.

Seeing that the situation is slowly getting out of hand, the commander of the central army Suleyman Bey quickly cut in kicking his colleague kneeling on the floor, who also happened to be his son in law, slightly and asked. “Did you see who is the commanding the two hundred plus barbarians?”

“Yes! Uncle… Your highness! I saw him! I saw him indeed! He does not look like a Rumelian, in fact he looks like an Arab, a man of our own, with a full goatee beard. I have exchanged a few blades with that man, he doesn’t seem to be that fluent in the use of a Rumelian long sword though, and he seems to use a… a.. Egyptian form of sword fighting martial arts…”

“Egyptians.. the Mamluks… the Mamluks!”

The old Sanjek felt blood gushing up to his throat, and together with it comes a feeling of being casted down slowly looms over his head. He has always seen himself as the father of all the students and believers of the Great Prophet in Epirus, especially in this dreaded times as he tried his best to pull the various factions together making them still look like that they are of one family, of one blood, one descendant. And during this time, it is not the infidel’s invasion and the mysterious death of his family that demoralises him the most, but the betrayal of his own fellow believers of Islam.

Yes, he feels betrayed. As a faithful believer he has no idea on why the Sultan of the Mamluks decided to aid the people that is killing the people that is following the same faith. He feels lonely, out of a sudden, angry too, depressed and sad, for the first time since the start of the battle, knowing that his name of the defender of faith has been tainted with dirt, because of the Mamluks.

The people in the surrounding dared not to make a sound as the atmosphere slowly dies down accompanied with the rapid panting of the Sanjek. The battle ahead is still ongoing, with the exchanging of blades, painful cries of the mutilated crew and the image of the blood soaked flags are still irritating the senses of everyone here, reminding them that they are still in the middle of a war zone.

The Sanjek slowly calmed himself down, knowing that getting himself filled with rage at this point of time shall do no good for him and his army, this amount of rage building up will disturb his strategic thinking and make him easier to make a mistake. The old Sanjek decided to take the usual method he used to do last time to soothe his mood, the Sanjek took several deep breathes with his chest bulging up and down as he stares up towards the sky, staring into his favourite scenery since young. But strangely speaking he found out that the longer he stares, he feels his sight is becoming more and more delusional, with the corners of his sight getting covered in nothing but darkness.

He tried to tilt his head, but all efforts are thrown into waste as such an easy task now has became almost became impossible for him. And out of a sudden, the Sanjek collapsed, under the shocked sights of everyone here, with a loud thump. The air literally went silent for a second before the guards quickly took action by surrounding the fallen Sanjek in one round, preventing anyone else from observing the scene over here, but it is still too late. The soldiers around the makeshift tower saw the Sanjek falling down with their very own eyes and their commanders hurriedly squatting down to wake him up.

This instantly created an uproar among the troopers, they began discussing among themselves that the Sanjek has fallen down, and the words started spreading further and further into the army despite repeated commands from the junior commanders not to do so. In the end when it reached the end of the formation the words have evolved into a rumour of ‘The Sanjek has been shot down by a bolt and fell down onto the tower, with little chance of survival’ through the mouths of some people, intentionally of course.

The morale of the troopers went straight down like a downfall, but luckily for them their Sanjek slowly stood back up again with the help of his noblemen, difficultly but steadily. After a few minutes of trying, the Sanjek bey got his feet and legs to stop shaking as he stood upright trying to maintain a healthy posture, though that pale face under the sun gave him off.. The Sanjek faced his crowd, raised his hand and shouted at the top of his voice to assure his men. “Don’t worry! My sons! My brothers! I am still fine! There is nothing to be worried about! I shall stand here until we win this war! And anyone who spreads rumours about me personally, or the war, shall be dealt with severely! Behave yourself my sons!”