Chapter 585: Young Bayezid’s First War
The Ottoman cavalry commander is done for, and so is his men.
It is obvious that he might have had something to say in his last moments as he stared at Helios, his action might be heroic, he might be a brave and loyal janissary for his Sultan, but that is it, no one, including the historians writing down this piece of history, are going to mention the name of this Ottoman commander due to a simple reason: His charge did not cause any form of impact on the battle, nor did any of his men trapped inside the Roman infantry formation survive to spread his legacy, there will be only one line on the Historia: At the dawn of the 20th of May, 1465, the Ottoman commander Alaüddin Bey ordered his five hundred cavalry to charge the Roman formations (although he did not), but are defeated with two hundred plus Ottoman cavalries killed, fifty plus taken as refugees, and the rest fled.
But he is a brave man.
The legs of the Ottoman commander is already broken from the impact of falling off the horse, the guard of Helios approached him, he tried to speak something but the later can’t understand what he is saying. The guard slitted the throat of the commander and nodded towards Helios.
The Roman general took off his helmet, took a fresh breath of the night wind mixed with the scent of blood, and ordered. "Count the number of casualties, capture all the horses of the Ottomans! Do not kill them! And the rest of you, gather up! We shall flank the Ottomans!"
However, there are not many cheers from the Roman infantries who scattered around to ransack for loots, for the casualty rate in this battle is just way too high.
One in four men of the Roman troops are no longer standing after this battle, which is already remarkable as it is almost a one-to-one exchange rate between the two sides, considering that fact that the Roman infantry only outmatches the Ottoman cavalry two to one.
That is the price to pay if the infantries of this era to stand against their cavalry counterparts, these riders on horseback outmatch an infantry in every single angle biologically speaking, and the only possible way for an Infantry regiment to outmatch the cavalries are through high level of discipline, fine equipment, good strategies, landscape, morale, and a lot of other things. Many believed the conspiracy that one can use spears and lances to counter cavalries, it does have advantages against a cavalry troop when information preventing them from charging, but it does not mean that lances are invincible, for there are so many factors affecting the process and outcome of a war.
If you give a bunch of untrained peasants a bunch of lances and ask them to fight against a bunch of charging cavalries, they will turn against you first, and then flee. Cavalry can be used in a flexible manner, while an Infantry defensive formation is pretty much nailed to the place, the cavalries don’t even need to charge, they can just keep pouring arrows on you while moving, and the infantry formations will collapse on its own, then shall the cavalries perform the charge for the finishing blow.
Anyways, let’s get back to the battlefield.
Helios issued several commands, and then embarked alongside with his troops, while Antonius kept observing him from the side.
The siege on the Ottoman forts have begun, one after another Roman life are demising into the shadows of the walls and barricades as each few seconds pass, Helios must not waste any time to reach the designated flanking position and launch a coordinated attack in order to break through these forts.
...
Meanwhile, in Edirne.
Sultan Beyezid II has already finished his early prayers and has already proceeded on with his work as a Sultan.
Sultan Beyezid II is a good Sultan and a faithful Muslin for sure, he wakes up before sun rise at approximately 5 in the morning, finishes his breakfast and his morning Fajr prayers, and then proceed on with work resolving all the different issues across the Sultanate inclusive of Bulgaria and Anatolia, all the way till noon when he proceeds with his Zuhr prayers, finishes his lunch. Then in the afternoon he would usually train his physical capabilities with his trusted guards or improve to excel in academics field with his Munejim, Hoja and Imam. Then he proceeds with Maghrib prayer before going for dinner with his concubines, and Isha prayers, work overtime into late night before going to sleep.
The no longer young Sultan equally loved everyone in his Sultanate, trying to gather every bit of power he can in order to maintain the survival of the Sultanate passed to him by his father. However, just by keeping the Sultanate alive is already taking up the bulk of his efforts, throwing him with a burden that depletes his strength every single day. He is not even twenty, but there are already a few ashen hairs getting up his head.
He is persistent, he is hardworking, he is intelligent, he is charismatic, through the few years of ties he has managed to get the Ottoman warlords in Bulgaria and Anatolia to re-recognise him as their sole sovereign and come to aid when asked for, but the Rumelians of Antonius De’Ricci are just less than a hundred miles away, but the whereabouts of the army of the warlords whose loyalty are questioned, are never known. The young Sultan is like a boulder, standing strong in the seas against the waves after waves of crusades and the Greek reclamation movements coming challenging him from all places, he is not just fighting for his kingdom’s survival, but also against the tide of destiny.
A rider came galloping into the palace.
The gates to the palace came bursting open, interrupting the Sultan’s chores.
"Sultan! Your Majesty!" The messenger came rushing in with sweat all over his face, almost tripped over the doors, kneeled down and yelled. "The western forts are under an all out attack by the Rumelian infidels! Alaüddin Bey is desperately defending against the Rumelians, and he sent me here asking me for aid!"
The Sultan dropped his kalem on the ground, as he raised his hand trembling and asked. "How many men do they have?"
The messenger raised his head again, shouting in despair. "At least fifteen thousand men! We cannot get a detailed headcount because of the darkness! But please, your Majesty! Send aids, or the western forts shall be lost! The Rumelians have already wiped out our Janissary cavalries, our flanks have already been lost!"
The Sultan fell back to his seat.
"No, there can’t be that many Rumelians attacking us." The Ikinji Kapu-oghlan bowed towards the Sultan. "I have received no reports of massive movements from our intelligence system, if there are any Rumelian army movements prior to the attack, we should have already received it days before."
"Your Majesty!" The messenger started wiping, as he took out a drenched letter beneath his cloth and passed it onto the desk of the Sultan. "Please! Read the letter!"
The eunuch unsealed the letter for the Sultan, made a slight gasp and stepped back before spreading it before the Sultan.
The letter is written completely in blood, with only a few words on it.
"Acil takviye gerekiyor kaleler her an kaybedilebilir"
The Sultan could no longer control his calm, he stood up, marched outside his palace towards all the aghas and Janissaries already waiting for him outside after hearing all the commotions. The young Sultan took a look at all of his subordinates, took a deep breath, and yelled with his hands on his sides, just like his father.
"Valiant Janissaries, loyal sons of our great empire! The time has come for us to rise, to stand tall in the face of adversity, to cast a shadow that will engulf the audacity of our foes. We are the descendants of Osman, the ghazis, the warriors of Islam. Our ancestors have gifted us this blessed homeland, nurtured with their blood and sweat, engraved with their hopes and dreams. Now, it is our duty to defend this legacy, the land that is our cradle, our home, against the new tide of Rumelians and their infidel counterparts!"
The Aghas and Janissaries beneath raised their hands, kneeled down, and cheered. "Allah Hu Akbar! Long live the Sultan! Long live the Ottomans!"
"Today we march to save our pals!" The Sultan cried, as his eunuch has already prepared his armour and horses.
The young Sultan is soon about to face his first battle, with the situations in the front lines still unknown. But he knows that he cannot back off, as these men, these Janissaries beneath him, are all watching his actions. The Ottomans do not need a weak Sultan, they need a lion, a Sultan that is feared by both their enemies and their subjects, that can actually lead them into battle.
Like his father, grandfather, and forefathers.
