Originally posted by Valdemar
Well yes, the intention was that from the moment of Arn speaking in dialoque we would be in "Instant time" again, if its confusing I'll stop doing it
V
Ah, I get your point.
-
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Ah, I get your point.
Originally posted by Valdemar
KB thanks
And finally, would a castiron cannon be damageable at all? By fire or water?
V
Very difficult. If you heated it up enough and dumped it in cold water it might crack but I'm talking about a lot more heat than your going to get by setting it's sledge on fire. Spiking is the only practical way to damage it. I'm caught up once again and I'm enjoying the story Val .
Joe
Joe, thanks
That was what I was afraid of, but somehow I had a hard time seeing the Byzantine cavalry knowing how to spike a gun that size
I sort of imagined it being of solid staves held together with hoops rather than xast bronze, then hopefully it would be more easy to destroy
V
That was what I was afraid of, but somehow I had a hard time seeing the Byzantine cavalry knowing how to spike a gun that size
I sort of imagined it being of solid staves held together with hoops rather than xast bronze, then hopefully it would be more easy to destroy
V
Cement/Concrete would do the trick right nicely. Pour it in and let it set. You aren't getting it out without ruining the cannon.
Yes but this is 1430 or so, and i doubt the cavalry know how to, not to mention carry that much cement around
V
V- The Romans invented it! Although you may be right that the cavalry probably couldn't have been able to use it. Although if there was any water nearby you probably could have pulled/pushed them into it and made it rust up. That would ruin it nice and proper as well.
IIRC the "invention" was lost with the fall of the Roman Empire and only reinvented in the last century or so
They did allow it to roll into water, don't know if the Ottomans managed to pull it back up
V
The easiest method for destroying a cannon is to overcharge it with gunpowder and overload it with shot. Firing it then will blow the muzzle off, crack it along the barrel or split the gun open - probably the latter given the low quality of iron in this period.
Of course, you don't want to be too close when it goes off.
Given the rarity of artillery, no cavalry would be expected to carry headless nails for spiking or cement. But they could 'interrogate' the civilian artillerymen, who would probably help the soldiers overcharge and burst the cannon.
The only drawbacks to this method are that it requires gunpowder and time.
Of course, you don't want to be too close when it goes off.
Given the rarity of artillery, no cavalry would be expected to carry headless nails for spiking or cement. But they could 'interrogate' the civilian artillerymen, who would probably help the soldiers overcharge and burst the cannon.
The only drawbacks to this method are that it requires gunpowder and time.
Chapter 7
The day was gray and everything was wet. Arn reluctantly lifted his head under the deep hood of his cloak and threw a glance at the laden skies, he cursed, as he was rewarded with another cold spray of water on his face.
It had rained on and of for two days now, ever since they broke contact with the Turks and headed up river into the hills. The river in the middle of the level ground had swollen slightly, but Arn knew that these spring rains would make it grow fast and he was anxious to get the army out of its way before that happened.
He glanced about him to see if any messengers or scouts were approaching, but it was hard to see more than a few hundred steps ahead. He had asked Alexios to make sure that the scouts were doubled. The Turk had been slow to organize the pursuit, but now they followed doggedly intent of bringing the Byzantine to battle. He smiled, he was sure they had come as a rude surprise to the Ottoman and he could understand that they didn’t want him in their back, unchecked, but couldn’t they give it a rest?
He sighed, for the last half day they had seen the Sipahis, it would only be a matter of moments before some scout came to tell him they had started harassing his rear. Not much to do about it, he couldn’t press the men into higher speed, they had fought a battle, while the Turk had fresh troops to send after him.
Moments later his fears were confirmed; the Sipahis were within reach and had started to attack the rear column. He stood up in the stirrups trying to look through the mist to see how far they had gotten, two more bends in the river it looked like, before he could...
He signaled the messenger,
“Tell the Cavarly to counter attack, we need a few hours more before we turn and confront.”
The messenger rode off into the mist and moments later Arn could hear the muffled sound of hooves thundering somewhere in the distance.
“Stupid weather, at least their horse archers have less range.”
Arn looked up, Angelo had moved closer. The General merely nodded inside his hood.
“Off course our archers will suffer the same.”
Arn looked up, “Our archers?”
The Italian gestured, “Look up ahead.”
Arn followed the arm and saw a wide sweep of the river up ahead, “This is it?”
“Yes, and the rising river actually didn’t help.”
Arn laughed digging in a riverbed as the river rose, tended to fill the holes.
The general spurred his horse and moved up the column and around the bend. Here the river took a wide turn and left large swats of flat ground on both sides, bordered by steep cliffs cut by the spring torrents or a more ancient river.
Across both riverbanks there had been dug, piled and cut a number of low fortifications, bristling with men from the advance party. Arn could see the weary infantry from his own force snake through the blocks on both sides of the river and disappear behind the next bend. He looked quizzically at Angelo.
“Don’t worry, the banks are too steep here, but around the bend they can access the top, you’ll see, besides, they need rest.”
Arn nodded, he had full confidence in Angelo’s infantry tactics. He docilely followed his second in command through the obstacles and around the bend and was pleasantly surprised to find long lines of men waiting to be fed and served and then led up a number of paths to the cliff tops.
Looking at the organized chaos he quickly discovered that most men going up were heavily armored or archers, while most of the regular infantry filtered further up river.
He nodded it made sense, only so many men could fill the trenches for now, and they banked on another surprise not a fair battle.
An hour or so later all men were accounted for except the cavalry, but just as the thought to send out a messenger crossed his mind Arn heard the low rumble again, he glanced at the sky, the rain had stopped, and there were at least a few hours of daylight left.
The Cavalry thundered slowly by in the soaked riverbed below him as he climbed the river bank some fifty paces before the first trench, hidden with him in the heavy forest were about half of what the army could muster of archers and crossbowmen, the other half on the opposite bank.
Below the cavalry slowed to the trot as they waded into the river, the easiest way for the large force to quickly clear the trenches, Arn only hoped that they would get out of the river in time; they would be easy targets for the light cavalry and horse archers of the Turk.
As if responding to his thoughts another low rumble could be heard over the din of the Greek cavalry and moments later the first Ottoman horses rounded the bend. A yell went up as they saw their prey within easy reached.
The enemy spurred their tired horses, intent on catching the accursed heavy horse cavalry before they regained their strength, more than half of their force committed to the attack before they seemed to realize the obstacles on their planned course. Yelling in frustration as the Greek horses withdrew behind the next bend they charged down the course of the water towards the trenches.
Angelo had ordered the archers to hold their fire until he gave the order and the only response to the charge were the few archers standing in the trenches, but still the trenches proved their worth. The cavalry of the Turk was unable to get a good shot at the dug in infantry and they simply were not enough to penetrate the defenses in one charge and after a few halfhearted attempts the with drew to the bend to regroup.
Arn looked at the sky wondering if the daylight would hold. However he did not have to wait long before the first groups of Turk infantry and Janissaries arrived. Another hour or so went by as the Turk regrouped, but suddenly, when Arn quietly wondered if they would wait for night, the Turk swarmed forward, Infantry in the middle on both sides of the river and moments later followed by the cavalry on the flanks.
They almost reached the position of the first Greek soldiers when the order came. Bolts and shafts descended on the hapless Turk, mostly going out to the cavalry first. At the distance no one could miss and soon the Turk flanks began to thin, but still they came on.
The first Ottomans reached the trenches and a bitter fight began, but still the arrows rained from the river banks tearing up the cavalry and infantry alike, clogging the riverbed with the dead and wounded.
Suddenly a horn blared and as one the Turk turned and ran, back towards where they came followed by the missiles until they retreated around the bend.
Arn dispatched scouts to follow, but his army was to tired to pursue, especially since the Turk could receive reinforcements at will. He ordered the trenches to be manned all night and the forested river banks to be heavily patrolled and then moved the army one hour up stream before turning them away from the swollen waters and prepare camp.
They would rest here for a few days, and then he would summon his officers for another meeting and let them know his plans.
The day was gray and everything was wet. Arn reluctantly lifted his head under the deep hood of his cloak and threw a glance at the laden skies, he cursed, as he was rewarded with another cold spray of water on his face.
It had rained on and of for two days now, ever since they broke contact with the Turks and headed up river into the hills. The river in the middle of the level ground had swollen slightly, but Arn knew that these spring rains would make it grow fast and he was anxious to get the army out of its way before that happened.
He glanced about him to see if any messengers or scouts were approaching, but it was hard to see more than a few hundred steps ahead. He had asked Alexios to make sure that the scouts were doubled. The Turk had been slow to organize the pursuit, but now they followed doggedly intent of bringing the Byzantine to battle. He smiled, he was sure they had come as a rude surprise to the Ottoman and he could understand that they didn’t want him in their back, unchecked, but couldn’t they give it a rest?
He sighed, for the last half day they had seen the Sipahis, it would only be a matter of moments before some scout came to tell him they had started harassing his rear. Not much to do about it, he couldn’t press the men into higher speed, they had fought a battle, while the Turk had fresh troops to send after him.
Moments later his fears were confirmed; the Sipahis were within reach and had started to attack the rear column. He stood up in the stirrups trying to look through the mist to see how far they had gotten, two more bends in the river it looked like, before he could...
He signaled the messenger,
“Tell the Cavarly to counter attack, we need a few hours more before we turn and confront.”
The messenger rode off into the mist and moments later Arn could hear the muffled sound of hooves thundering somewhere in the distance.
“Stupid weather, at least their horse archers have less range.”
Arn looked up, Angelo had moved closer. The General merely nodded inside his hood.
“Off course our archers will suffer the same.”
Arn looked up, “Our archers?”
The Italian gestured, “Look up ahead.”
Arn followed the arm and saw a wide sweep of the river up ahead, “This is it?”
“Yes, and the rising river actually didn’t help.”
Arn laughed digging in a riverbed as the river rose, tended to fill the holes.
The general spurred his horse and moved up the column and around the bend. Here the river took a wide turn and left large swats of flat ground on both sides, bordered by steep cliffs cut by the spring torrents or a more ancient river.
Across both riverbanks there had been dug, piled and cut a number of low fortifications, bristling with men from the advance party. Arn could see the weary infantry from his own force snake through the blocks on both sides of the river and disappear behind the next bend. He looked quizzically at Angelo.
“Don’t worry, the banks are too steep here, but around the bend they can access the top, you’ll see, besides, they need rest.”
Arn nodded, he had full confidence in Angelo’s infantry tactics. He docilely followed his second in command through the obstacles and around the bend and was pleasantly surprised to find long lines of men waiting to be fed and served and then led up a number of paths to the cliff tops.
Looking at the organized chaos he quickly discovered that most men going up were heavily armored or archers, while most of the regular infantry filtered further up river.
He nodded it made sense, only so many men could fill the trenches for now, and they banked on another surprise not a fair battle.
An hour or so later all men were accounted for except the cavalry, but just as the thought to send out a messenger crossed his mind Arn heard the low rumble again, he glanced at the sky, the rain had stopped, and there were at least a few hours of daylight left.
The Cavalry thundered slowly by in the soaked riverbed below him as he climbed the river bank some fifty paces before the first trench, hidden with him in the heavy forest were about half of what the army could muster of archers and crossbowmen, the other half on the opposite bank.
Below the cavalry slowed to the trot as they waded into the river, the easiest way for the large force to quickly clear the trenches, Arn only hoped that they would get out of the river in time; they would be easy targets for the light cavalry and horse archers of the Turk.
As if responding to his thoughts another low rumble could be heard over the din of the Greek cavalry and moments later the first Ottoman horses rounded the bend. A yell went up as they saw their prey within easy reached.
The enemy spurred their tired horses, intent on catching the accursed heavy horse cavalry before they regained their strength, more than half of their force committed to the attack before they seemed to realize the obstacles on their planned course. Yelling in frustration as the Greek horses withdrew behind the next bend they charged down the course of the water towards the trenches.
Angelo had ordered the archers to hold their fire until he gave the order and the only response to the charge were the few archers standing in the trenches, but still the trenches proved their worth. The cavalry of the Turk was unable to get a good shot at the dug in infantry and they simply were not enough to penetrate the defenses in one charge and after a few halfhearted attempts the with drew to the bend to regroup.
Arn looked at the sky wondering if the daylight would hold. However he did not have to wait long before the first groups of Turk infantry and Janissaries arrived. Another hour or so went by as the Turk regrouped, but suddenly, when Arn quietly wondered if they would wait for night, the Turk swarmed forward, Infantry in the middle on both sides of the river and moments later followed by the cavalry on the flanks.
They almost reached the position of the first Greek soldiers when the order came. Bolts and shafts descended on the hapless Turk, mostly going out to the cavalry first. At the distance no one could miss and soon the Turk flanks began to thin, but still they came on.
The first Ottomans reached the trenches and a bitter fight began, but still the arrows rained from the river banks tearing up the cavalry and infantry alike, clogging the riverbed with the dead and wounded.
Suddenly a horn blared and as one the Turk turned and ran, back towards where they came followed by the missiles until they retreated around the bend.
Arn dispatched scouts to follow, but his army was to tired to pursue, especially since the Turk could receive reinforcements at will. He ordered the trenches to be manned all night and the forested river banks to be heavily patrolled and then moved the army one hour up stream before turning them away from the swollen waters and prepare camp.
They would rest here for a few days, and then he would summon his officers for another meeting and let them know his plans.
very nice.
Hopefully it will turn out for the best for our poor tired soldiers....
Hopefully it will turn out for the best for our poor tired soldiers....
It is slow, I sort of get sidetracked
But its still alive and will be updated once in a while
V
But its still alive and will be updated once in a while
V
Sorry, a bit late, but I am glad I manage to get in before the next update.
Great, as always!
Great, as always!
Chapter 8
Konstantinos lay back in the pillows in the lavishly decorated pavilion that was his home in the field looking oddly out of place in the rich pampered environment, a young fit man in his armor and boots amidst the silken softness of the pillows and tapestries.
The Emperor’s brother rose as a messenger entered and the ease with which he wore his armor belied the stories of a pampered spoiled courtier that had been sent away from court because of a brewing scandal all those years ago, only to return, even more spoiled according to the rumors, to accept his position as soon as his father died.
The new Marshall accepted the message with a nod and tore the seal off, then poked his head out of the pavilion,
“Get me the generals.“
A guard saluted and the messenger scurried off in all directions in the sprawling camp. Konstaninos read the missive again, making sure he got the details right, then exited the pavilion to await his commanders in the open air.
Before him sprawled the camp of the entire army of the Empire, not counting the small army up near the City and the City garrison, more than thirty thousand men had their life and work below him.
He could see the ordered rows of tethered horses for the cavalry and the training fields of archers and infantry, each force a camp within the camp, each with their own routines and traditions, regiment upon regiment. He shook his head, formidable forces in their own right, but no common ground apart from pride, pride of being Roman.
His Generals and their aides slowly assembled around him, eyeing their new commander waiting for to speak. Konstantinos looked at them one by one, trying to gauge their mood, to find out what sort of creatures he had inherited.
What he saw was a lot of guarded feelings behind somber and unrevealing faces. He sighed inaudibly, he knew Svend had a marvelous reputation, but he also knew that the old Captain of the guard had barely begun changing the officers when the old Emperor had died and he had been recalled to the court.
And now he was here, home after so many years, almost directly to his new command, an unknown commander amongst unknown officers. He could see it in their eyes, those that could not hide the curiosity, or the disdain.
They still think of me as the young man, no boy, that was send away. They have no idea what i have been doing abroad.
“Gentlemen we have received news.”
The assembled officers looked politely curious, though off course they already knew the courier had arrived.
“We are at war.” A small tremble moved through the men, “As of three weeks ago the Turk broke the treaty and three days later they started their march, we must assume they are on their way towards the city, and here.”
A junior officer dares to speak, “and Arn?”
No sign of the rage brewing inside appears on Konstantinos’ face, “The small army will remain in Thrace, we have received reinforcements and will be on our own.” The sarcasms isn’t lost on all the assembled officers, but to his dismay too many seems to take his words as the gospel.
“We have no word on the Ottoman moves, we are too far from the front to trust anything, it could be outdated before we can react.” A few nods around him.
“I want the army to move today.” A gasp from the collected men. “Today Gentlemen, not all of it, but I want us to be across the river and inside Macedonia in force before nightfall,” He looks at the cavalry officers, “I want your forces to cross first, I want you to spread out and start organizing supplies for the army to come, and mostly, I want you through those mountain passes two days form here before the Turk can fortify them.”
“But Sire,”
“NO, no buts, I want you on that plain in force so you can stop any attempt from the Ottomans to close the Mountains before us.”
The cavalry officers nodded and accepted what could only be termed a direct order.
“As I was saying, I want you there and I want you to start setting up supplies.”
“Pillaging my lord?”
“No, not yet, but take what you need without unnecessary destruction, take what is fair and deny the supplies to the Turk if need be.”
“May I ask why?”
The Marshall eyed the officer that had asked, a young aide to the cavalry General, the man looked back, and Konstantinos saw nothing but a true wish for clarification in his eyes.
“I don’t want a rebellion on my hands too, the Turks are enough for now. Tax them as hard as you can, leaving them enough to survive to the next harvest. I don’t want ANY unwarranted destruction.”
The man nodded in acceptance, “and the Turks?”
“Ah yes, you can kill any officials and nobles out of hand, leave their priests for now, if there are any, and destroy anyone that can be levied for the Sipahis, there should be quite a few after their last conquests here and in the east. Destroy their farms and give the land to the locals.” He paused briefly, “for now.”
The assembled officers nodded, “That will be all, let the men leave in an hour and break the main camp in the morning.”
Konstantinos lay back in the pillows in the lavishly decorated pavilion that was his home in the field looking oddly out of place in the rich pampered environment, a young fit man in his armor and boots amidst the silken softness of the pillows and tapestries.
The Emperor’s brother rose as a messenger entered and the ease with which he wore his armor belied the stories of a pampered spoiled courtier that had been sent away from court because of a brewing scandal all those years ago, only to return, even more spoiled according to the rumors, to accept his position as soon as his father died.
The new Marshall accepted the message with a nod and tore the seal off, then poked his head out of the pavilion,
“Get me the generals.“
A guard saluted and the messenger scurried off in all directions in the sprawling camp. Konstaninos read the missive again, making sure he got the details right, then exited the pavilion to await his commanders in the open air.
Before him sprawled the camp of the entire army of the Empire, not counting the small army up near the City and the City garrison, more than thirty thousand men had their life and work below him.
He could see the ordered rows of tethered horses for the cavalry and the training fields of archers and infantry, each force a camp within the camp, each with their own routines and traditions, regiment upon regiment. He shook his head, formidable forces in their own right, but no common ground apart from pride, pride of being Roman.
His Generals and their aides slowly assembled around him, eyeing their new commander waiting for to speak. Konstantinos looked at them one by one, trying to gauge their mood, to find out what sort of creatures he had inherited.
What he saw was a lot of guarded feelings behind somber and unrevealing faces. He sighed inaudibly, he knew Svend had a marvelous reputation, but he also knew that the old Captain of the guard had barely begun changing the officers when the old Emperor had died and he had been recalled to the court.
And now he was here, home after so many years, almost directly to his new command, an unknown commander amongst unknown officers. He could see it in their eyes, those that could not hide the curiosity, or the disdain.
They still think of me as the young man, no boy, that was send away. They have no idea what i have been doing abroad.
“Gentlemen we have received news.”
The assembled officers looked politely curious, though off course they already knew the courier had arrived.
“We are at war.” A small tremble moved through the men, “As of three weeks ago the Turk broke the treaty and three days later they started their march, we must assume they are on their way towards the city, and here.”
A junior officer dares to speak, “and Arn?”
No sign of the rage brewing inside appears on Konstantinos’ face, “The small army will remain in Thrace, we have received reinforcements and will be on our own.” The sarcasms isn’t lost on all the assembled officers, but to his dismay too many seems to take his words as the gospel.
“We have no word on the Ottoman moves, we are too far from the front to trust anything, it could be outdated before we can react.” A few nods around him.
“I want the army to move today.” A gasp from the collected men. “Today Gentlemen, not all of it, but I want us to be across the river and inside Macedonia in force before nightfall,” He looks at the cavalry officers, “I want your forces to cross first, I want you to spread out and start organizing supplies for the army to come, and mostly, I want you through those mountain passes two days form here before the Turk can fortify them.”
“But Sire,”
“NO, no buts, I want you on that plain in force so you can stop any attempt from the Ottomans to close the Mountains before us.”
The cavalry officers nodded and accepted what could only be termed a direct order.
“As I was saying, I want you there and I want you to start setting up supplies.”
“Pillaging my lord?”
“No, not yet, but take what you need without unnecessary destruction, take what is fair and deny the supplies to the Turk if need be.”
“May I ask why?”
The Marshall eyed the officer that had asked, a young aide to the cavalry General, the man looked back, and Konstantinos saw nothing but a true wish for clarification in his eyes.
“I don’t want a rebellion on my hands too, the Turks are enough for now. Tax them as hard as you can, leaving them enough to survive to the next harvest. I don’t want ANY unwarranted destruction.”
The man nodded in acceptance, “and the Turks?”
“Ah yes, you can kill any officials and nobles out of hand, leave their priests for now, if there are any, and destroy anyone that can be levied for the Sipahis, there should be quite a few after their last conquests here and in the east. Destroy their farms and give the land to the locals.” He paused briefly, “for now.”
The assembled officers nodded, “That will be all, let the men leave in an hour and break the main camp in the morning.”
Oooh! War camp planning. But as we all know, no plan survives contact with the enemy....
Thanks fellas I just got a few quiet days here, so one more coming up right away
V
I just got a few quiet days here, so one more coming up right away V
Chapter 8 Part II
The move into Macedonia had been a success, nothing in the way of resistance had been met and the Byzantine army had begun besieging the only fortified town in the area.
Konstantinos watched from his horse as the trenches were dug and siege engines prepared, this was hard arduous work, boring and almost numbing to the mind, but an assault was out of the question.
He had send his cavalry far and wide in the attempt to both secure supplies and news and to prevent the Turk from levying the vast majority of Turkish settlers that had been moving here the last generations getting lands in return for future war duties.
So far they had seen nothing of the Turk, but news flowed from the City that they had crossed into Thrace with a mighty army, and that the Sultan himself commanded it. The Marshall dearly hoped they would commit to a lengthy siege of Constantinople before turning south, giving him time to complete his task and deplete the Turk before he had to confront them.
So far so good.
He turned his horse back towards his pavilion and the daily progress reports.
****
The siege had been underway for a couple of months when the rain set in, a light summer drizzle that slowly drenched everything in sight. At first it had been a blessing, alleviating the beginning summer heat, and tying down the dust that inevitably followed a large army as they turned the lush spring fields into hard packed dirt, but as the days went on without sunshine the rain became a problem. Everything was damp, the food the tents, the men, the hard packed dirt turned to mud, causing accidents as siege engines slipped or trenches collapsed.
Worst of all, the rain replenished the beleaguered city’s water supply making a dry out later in the summer unlikely. As a result the mood of the men turned sour. Trapped in the muddy camp they could only watch as the enemies sat more or less dry on their walls and their officers in their pavilions and tents on the only high grounds available.
Konstantinos watched it happen and in an attempt to reverse the inevitable he moved his own pavilion to the center of the camp, sharing at least parts of the discomforts with his men, but to no avail.
News had come that Arn and his small army has struck at the invaders, apparently a victory before being pressed into the countryside and out of reach, but the story could not be confirmed and little else had been coming their way since the Turks had sealed of the City of Men’s Desire. Only a ship broke the blockade now and again, oddly enough often a Venetian, standing by their ally.
*****
The Marshal paced in his Pavilion, a new messenger had arrived by sea, and he was fretting to get the officers assembled and break the news to them. The rain had finally let up a few days ago and now the mud that had been a curse had turned out to be a blessing, allowing the men to collapse part of the river bed into the stream, blocking that supply into the city, and weakening the walls in the same move.
As soon as the men were settled their commander raised his hands for silence,
“I’ve received some odd news. The Sultan has left the city with his army.” A stunned silence followed his words,
“And the siege?”
“The siege has not been lifted, an army is still in place, albeit barely enough to keep the siege going, but the Sultan and the majority of his army is reported to have left,” he paused for effect, “last seen heading south.”
He looked at the officers and saw nervous glances and shifting feet, he knew as well as they did, the only thing south of Thrace worthy of the Sultan was the Byzantine army and the siege that had only just begun.
He raised his voice over the growing babble, “We stay put, we are here to conquer this city, and who knows, we may be behind these walls before the Sultan gets here.” He was lying for all his worth and he knew it, but still, were could they go? “We will continue the siege, but every available man will start fortifying our positions, I don’t want to get caught here in the open, and you,” he turned to the cavalry general, “I want your patrols doubled in the north and see if you can send someone as far as the borders with Thrace.” The man nodded.
Konstantinos looked at him without speaking, the General looked back, puzzled, “Now General, now, if you don’t mind.” The officer flushed slightly and bowed before leaving the tent.
“That will be all, Gentlemen.”
*****
The Ottoman army seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon as they streamed unto the fertile plain before the Byzantine army. The men had done what they could to build defensive structures, but the truth was that the army was vulnerable their backs against the walls of the beleaguered city.
They had numerical superiority, but the Turks were fresh and the Marshall feared his men were weary after months in the siege, and he was uncertain as to their will to fight.
Still the Turk moved unto the plain, row after row of orderly infantry, accompanied by swarms of agile Sipahis, the cream of the Ottoman strength, the Sultan’s own army. Finally in the center a host of lively colored figures could be seen amidst a small forest of standards and flags.
The Sultan had arrived.
The move into Macedonia had been a success, nothing in the way of resistance had been met and the Byzantine army had begun besieging the only fortified town in the area.
Konstantinos watched from his horse as the trenches were dug and siege engines prepared, this was hard arduous work, boring and almost numbing to the mind, but an assault was out of the question.
He had send his cavalry far and wide in the attempt to both secure supplies and news and to prevent the Turk from levying the vast majority of Turkish settlers that had been moving here the last generations getting lands in return for future war duties.
So far they had seen nothing of the Turk, but news flowed from the City that they had crossed into Thrace with a mighty army, and that the Sultan himself commanded it. The Marshall dearly hoped they would commit to a lengthy siege of Constantinople before turning south, giving him time to complete his task and deplete the Turk before he had to confront them.
So far so good.
He turned his horse back towards his pavilion and the daily progress reports.
****
The siege had been underway for a couple of months when the rain set in, a light summer drizzle that slowly drenched everything in sight. At first it had been a blessing, alleviating the beginning summer heat, and tying down the dust that inevitably followed a large army as they turned the lush spring fields into hard packed dirt, but as the days went on without sunshine the rain became a problem. Everything was damp, the food the tents, the men, the hard packed dirt turned to mud, causing accidents as siege engines slipped or trenches collapsed.
Worst of all, the rain replenished the beleaguered city’s water supply making a dry out later in the summer unlikely. As a result the mood of the men turned sour. Trapped in the muddy camp they could only watch as the enemies sat more or less dry on their walls and their officers in their pavilions and tents on the only high grounds available.
Konstantinos watched it happen and in an attempt to reverse the inevitable he moved his own pavilion to the center of the camp, sharing at least parts of the discomforts with his men, but to no avail.
News had come that Arn and his small army has struck at the invaders, apparently a victory before being pressed into the countryside and out of reach, but the story could not be confirmed and little else had been coming their way since the Turks had sealed of the City of Men’s Desire. Only a ship broke the blockade now and again, oddly enough often a Venetian, standing by their ally.
*****
The Marshal paced in his Pavilion, a new messenger had arrived by sea, and he was fretting to get the officers assembled and break the news to them. The rain had finally let up a few days ago and now the mud that had been a curse had turned out to be a blessing, allowing the men to collapse part of the river bed into the stream, blocking that supply into the city, and weakening the walls in the same move.
As soon as the men were settled their commander raised his hands for silence,
“I’ve received some odd news. The Sultan has left the city with his army.” A stunned silence followed his words,
“And the siege?”
“The siege has not been lifted, an army is still in place, albeit barely enough to keep the siege going, but the Sultan and the majority of his army is reported to have left,” he paused for effect, “last seen heading south.”
He looked at the officers and saw nervous glances and shifting feet, he knew as well as they did, the only thing south of Thrace worthy of the Sultan was the Byzantine army and the siege that had only just begun.
He raised his voice over the growing babble, “We stay put, we are here to conquer this city, and who knows, we may be behind these walls before the Sultan gets here.” He was lying for all his worth and he knew it, but still, were could they go? “We will continue the siege, but every available man will start fortifying our positions, I don’t want to get caught here in the open, and you,” he turned to the cavalry general, “I want your patrols doubled in the north and see if you can send someone as far as the borders with Thrace.” The man nodded.
Konstantinos looked at him without speaking, the General looked back, puzzled, “Now General, now, if you don’t mind.” The officer flushed slightly and bowed before leaving the tent.
“That will be all, Gentlemen.”
*****
The Ottoman army seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon as they streamed unto the fertile plain before the Byzantine army. The men had done what they could to build defensive structures, but the truth was that the army was vulnerable their backs against the walls of the beleaguered city.
They had numerical superiority, but the Turks were fresh and the Marshall feared his men were weary after months in the siege, and he was uncertain as to their will to fight.
Still the Turk moved unto the plain, row after row of orderly infantry, accompanied by swarms of agile Sipahis, the cream of the Ottoman strength, the Sultan’s own army. Finally in the center a host of lively colored figures could be seen amidst a small forest of standards and flags.
The Sultan had arrived.
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Chapter 8 Part III
Konstantinos watched as the army in front of him unfolded, but more importantly he watched how his own army seemed to shrink with every new regiment arrayed before them.
Before him his men huddled together in their trenches, horses moved infinitely closer as the opponents seemed to fill the plain from mountain to river, creating the illusions of a shrinking army, dwarfed by the Ottoman might.
The Marshall sighed knowing what this would do for morale, he could see it in his officers’ eyes, they didn’t believe in him, and he knew that at least some of them had their local women and personal possessions send away last night, in the vain hope of escaping plunder.
The new Marshall had been up since dawn the day before, but now everything was in readiness, nothing more could be done but to await the enemy’s first move.
The morning progressed into day and still the Turk was content arranging his troops, biding his time, making the Byzantine wait for his move. Konstantinos briefly considered moving the cavalry forward, trying to goat the Sultan, but decided against it, the Sultan would be too wise to be lured, and he would likely loose his only striking capabilities, so he waited.
Finally as the sun rose towards a blistering noon a hush went through the ranks and the mass of men and beast before them appeared to shimmer and then lurch forward.
The battle had begun.
The Marshall watched as the floodgates of the Ottoman Empire opened and men poured forward, no attempt at tactics, merely the weight of numbers and experience bearing down on the Roman army.
The Byzantine bravely withstood the first assault, weakening it with archery and receiving it in the prepared entrenchments, but still the Turk managed to reach and hurt the lines only breaking off as the Byzantine cavalry crashed into their flanks, only to be chased away by the Sipahis swarming al over the plain.
The second assault came within the hour of the first one failing, and Konstantinos felt that this would be over soon. His men valiantly fought the Turk, inflicting as much damage if not more than they took, but he could see them waver in the face of the mass of humans before them.
Just as the enemy was about to break Konstantinos heard a rumble to the rear, turning he saw to his horror that the gates of the city had been thrown open and small but forceful cavalry formation was sallying forth, right into his reserves, waiting in the relative calm of the siege works.
With horror he watched as the cavalry moved into his troops scattering them towards the back of mainline still caught up with the main Ottoman assault before the sally force turned towards destroying his siege engines one by one.
Moments later the main force understood what had happened but it was too late, even though most of the valiant enemy force was cut down some of them escaped through the lines to be met by a cheering Turkish army.
The Marshall swore and ordered the cavalry forward, he had to buy time. Then he turned towards his staff,
“Gentlemen, it looks like our work here is destroyed, let’s save what can be saved lest we be destroyed in vain. Order the general retreat.”
The generals nodded, some with scorn, others with pity, and just a few in true acceptance of his wisdom, his choice not to sacrifice the entire army for honor readily accepted by those of true command. Konstantinos marked their reactions and turned towards his horse.
“Don’t wait for packaging, destroy what cannot be brought along instantly, I want the army on the move within the hour, before the Turk finds out, and while they are still to tired to follow.”
Konstantinos watched as the army in front of him unfolded, but more importantly he watched how his own army seemed to shrink with every new regiment arrayed before them.
Before him his men huddled together in their trenches, horses moved infinitely closer as the opponents seemed to fill the plain from mountain to river, creating the illusions of a shrinking army, dwarfed by the Ottoman might.
The Marshall sighed knowing what this would do for morale, he could see it in his officers’ eyes, they didn’t believe in him, and he knew that at least some of them had their local women and personal possessions send away last night, in the vain hope of escaping plunder.
The new Marshall had been up since dawn the day before, but now everything was in readiness, nothing more could be done but to await the enemy’s first move.
The morning progressed into day and still the Turk was content arranging his troops, biding his time, making the Byzantine wait for his move. Konstantinos briefly considered moving the cavalry forward, trying to goat the Sultan, but decided against it, the Sultan would be too wise to be lured, and he would likely loose his only striking capabilities, so he waited.
Finally as the sun rose towards a blistering noon a hush went through the ranks and the mass of men and beast before them appeared to shimmer and then lurch forward.
The battle had begun.
The Marshall watched as the floodgates of the Ottoman Empire opened and men poured forward, no attempt at tactics, merely the weight of numbers and experience bearing down on the Roman army.
The Byzantine bravely withstood the first assault, weakening it with archery and receiving it in the prepared entrenchments, but still the Turk managed to reach and hurt the lines only breaking off as the Byzantine cavalry crashed into their flanks, only to be chased away by the Sipahis swarming al over the plain.
The second assault came within the hour of the first one failing, and Konstantinos felt that this would be over soon. His men valiantly fought the Turk, inflicting as much damage if not more than they took, but he could see them waver in the face of the mass of humans before them.
Just as the enemy was about to break Konstantinos heard a rumble to the rear, turning he saw to his horror that the gates of the city had been thrown open and small but forceful cavalry formation was sallying forth, right into his reserves, waiting in the relative calm of the siege works.
With horror he watched as the cavalry moved into his troops scattering them towards the back of mainline still caught up with the main Ottoman assault before the sally force turned towards destroying his siege engines one by one.
Moments later the main force understood what had happened but it was too late, even though most of the valiant enemy force was cut down some of them escaped through the lines to be met by a cheering Turkish army.
The Marshall swore and ordered the cavalry forward, he had to buy time. Then he turned towards his staff,
“Gentlemen, it looks like our work here is destroyed, let’s save what can be saved lest we be destroyed in vain. Order the general retreat.”
The generals nodded, some with scorn, others with pity, and just a few in true acceptance of his wisdom, his choice not to sacrifice the entire army for honor readily accepted by those of true command. Konstantinos marked their reactions and turned towards his horse.
“Don’t wait for packaging, destroy what cannot be brought along instantly, I want the army on the move within the hour, before the Turk finds out, and while they are still to tired to follow.”
You said nothing exciting had happened...
and then I notice rather a lot of words has emerged in this thread....
Shame on you.
Great stuff as usual.
and then I notice rather a lot of words has emerged in this thread....
Shame on you.
Great stuff as usual.