Chapter 589: Caesar vs Sultan Part 3
"Oi, Sultan of the Ottomans!" The messenger’s voice cut through the air, resounding across the battlefield. He kept his horse circling, repeating his call to the Ottoman ranks as if waiting for a response before returning to his side.
"Should we silence him, your majesty?" A Janissary commander asked, running his index finger across his throat in a slashing motion.
"No, Ibrahim," the Sultan replied, shaking his head in dismissal. "Killing diplomats and messengers? Such actions are for uncivilized nomads from the Steppe. If we stoop so low, our reputation will be tarnished among the civilized worlds. We’ll become a laughingstock for the Shia heretics of Persia."
"As you wish, your majesty," the Janissary commander bowed and backed away.
"Oi, Rumelian!" The Sultan shouted in response to the messenger. "I will meet him, but it must be in the heart of the no-man’s land. Directly in the centre - not a single endaze more, not a single endaze less. Do you understand?"
"Your Majesty!" The Sultan’s guards quickly rushed forward to protest. "Your safety—"
"That’s the last thing you need to worry about," the Sultan interjected. "Yes, we are adversaries here, but remember, I am a Sultan, he is a king. We are both leaders with duties to our people, representatives of our states. If he tries any trickery, he will lose the trust of his own people, and any potential ally will think twice before aligning with such a ruthless tyrant."
"But..." A guard tried to argue, but the Sultan interrupted him.
"IF," the Sultan stated forcefully, turning with a stern expression, "I were to be killed, then the allies of the Rumelians would abandon them. The Ottomans would unite under the banner of Osmanlugu, seeking revenge for my death. In such a case, I would happily embrace death, even with a wide grin on my face."
With that final statement, the Sultan cracked his whip and urged his steed forward, leaving the safety of the Ottoman ranks behind.
The two monarchs met, at the centre of the no man’s land, with nothing but broken arrows stuck on the ground around them, with only one guard by each of there sides holding a torch, shining the faces of their respective sovereign – one Caesar, and one Sultan, with different names and different ages but holding the same amount of power ruling over millions of people.
"Hello, young man." Antonius leaned world narrowing his eyes, closely scrutinising the face of the young Sultan before him.
The young Sultan graciously bowed back towards the Caesar on horseback, without any facial expression on his face.
"..."
"Remarkable indeed." Antonius raised his horse whip pointing towards the Janissaries staring at him two hundred meters away. "It only took you such a little time to rebuild the Ottoman army that was once destroyed by your father and Candarli Halil, and these forts, they are impressive, I would really like to have a word with the designer of these forts, if that is possible."
The young Sultan feels humiliated as he immediately retorted back. "The Ottoman army is not destroyed by my father and Candarli Halil Pasha, they are devastated by you!"
Antonius is stunned, but still he shook his head, and replied with a wide grin on his face. "Yes, yes, I confess, I am the main culprit over here."
"..."
"Caesar of the Rumelians, why did you intrude my land? For absolutely no reason at all? What is your cause belli? Or is it because you are nothing but simply a war monger who wish not to see peace and prosperity, but only bloodshed and turmoil?"
"You are being too harsh on me, young man." Antonius replied. "There are some twats in Constantinople who killed my best friend, and I must seek vengeance to them, and send them to judgement getting their destinies sealed bringing righteousness back to this still sane world, in the name of God."
A bewildered look shadowed the Sultan’s face. "Then why seek me out?"
"This war wasn’t provoked without cause, young Sultan." Antonius’ countenance shifted from a warm, noble smile to a grim, strained expression. "It was birthed from your own arrogance and miscalculations. I sent you an unofficial missive, just a fortnight ago, requesting passage for my troops through your territory to reach Constantinople. You refused, leaving me no choice but to confront you first. Perhaps you could withdraw your forces now. I could return your forts and we could broker peace."
Shock and rage warred within the Sultan at the Caesar’s audacious words. He countered, "No rational ruler would ever permit foreign forces to traverse their land, causing destruction in their wake. What if your troops turned on us, began to pillage, or started capturing my towns and cities? Have you finally lost your senses, Antonius De’Ricci?"
Antonius leaned back, gazing down at the Sultan with a resigned look. "If that is your final decision, young man, then I regret to inform you that I’ll be compelled to decimate your forces, shatter your kingdom, condemn your towns, seize your lands, and exile you, if that’s what you’re seeking."
The young Sultan did not falter in the face of his adversary’s cruel words. "Then why did you ask me here? Just to hurl these insults?"
"Of course not. I requested your presence... because I wanted to meet you."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, let’s be honest here, Beyezid," Antonius continued, his voice earnest, "I have been observing you through various means. And I must admit, I admire you, both as an elder statesman and as an adversary. You have put great effort and intelligence into ruling your kingdom, striving to match up with me. In some ways, I wish my son would mature into a ruler like you. Do you understand what I mean?"
"And?" Cold shivers were now running down the Sultan’s spine.
"I would have felt regret if you had been slain or fled before I had the chance to meet you face-to-face. After all, I’ve been observing you for years."
Silently, the young Sultan Beyezid returned to his formations without uttering a word, there shall be no peace between the two sides from now on, its now officially a life or death match.
Helios immediately approached his sovereign once returning back to the command post
"How much time did I buy you, Helios." Asked Antonius, as he gulped down his alcohols to drench his thirst.
"Around fifteen minutes your Majesty."
"Is that enough for you?"
"Yes, more than enough, thanks, your Majesty."
"Great." Antonius looked up at the moon, it is already around one past midnight.
"Great."
Helios did not waste this time, with this fifteen minutes he could allow his troops on the flanks to regroup and reorganise, and all the troopers can have a bit of time to gulp down their drinks and their field rations to regain a bit of stamina, having a bit of rest can give them a bit more advantage against their opponents who have brisk marched here all the way for hours with neither the time to rest nor the time to consume any food.
The Ottomans on the other hand, took the time to organise their troopers into the designated offensive formations ordered by the Sultan earlier on."
"Sultan!" The guards and courtiers of Beyezid II came hurdling around him instantly when he came back to the Ottoman side. "What did that cursed infidel do to you?"
"Nothing really." The Sultan replied, still haven’t gotten himself back thinking about the words of Antonius. "It is strange, I had all the tricks in my mind regarding what he can possibly play with me in the meeting, and yet he simply called me there, to humiliate me? What time is it?"
"It is already half past one, we have wasted way too much time, our men will not have the strength to launch an attack if we take too long, issue the order of the attack!"
"Sons of Osman! Mujahadeens of the Holy Faith!" The frontline Janissary commander drew out his Kilij blade and called out to his fellow men. "Come with me! Today, you are finally free to kill as many infidels as you like! As said by the Grand Mufti, all killings done tonight shall not be considered sins from the Sharia law and the Quran, you shall be rewarded heavily by Allah, with each and every infidel you slay tonight! God is the greatest! Charge!"
"Charge! God is the Mightiest!"
The Sultan, whose thoughts have been broken by the turn of the battlefield, instinctively sensed that the morales of his troopers are not as high as a while ago. It seems like the only trick that the Caesar was trying to play with him, is actually to waste some time for the blood of the heated-up Ottoman warriors to cool down and give the Roman an easier time to embrace for the charge wave.
The Sultan frowned, that is something that he did not think of.
But nevertheless, he has far too many advantages, and it would most likely just take one single charge for him to crash the Rumelians.
He thought to himself.
