Chapter 594: Living Under Pax Romanum
The battle of Kavala is over, from the moment when the Ottomans are unable to stop the Romans landing right on their back.
The fighting spirits of the Ottomans eventually collapsed, one after another they started surrendering to their Roman counterparts, while others, under the lead of their Aghas, started retreating towards the woods, hoping to gain some level of disguise and protections from the Romans, totally forgetting about their Sultan who is still fighting on the front.
Beyezid II desperately tried to raise the morales of his men, but news spread fast between soldiers, and bad news spread even faster. It just took one night for him to be transformed from the Sultan that everyone loves to the Sultan whom everyone wants to run away from, except for the Janissaries. For they still want to keep their troops, which can be their most valuable asset during the incoming geopolitical crisis after this defeat, whether be it declaring independent or trying to bargain a good price with the nearby rulers.
The Sultan has been deserted.
The young Sultan frantically wielded his blade left and right with his Janissaries, trying to find a passage out of the encirclement. But Julian would not give him a chance to do that, for he knows that he can let the troops of the Aghas and beys go in exchange for them not disturbing his plans, but he definitely cannot leave the Janissaries alone, for they are the only force forming the core of the Sultan; without the Janissaries, the Sultan would be nothing but a fiddling puppet.
The entire Roman army, under the command of Julian, moved swiftly to block off every possible exit of the Ottomans, their aim is clear; they want to bury the entire Janissary, and maybe the Sultan, together in this piece of futile farmland today once for all.
Lost in a sea of despair, Alaüddin Bey, a respected Ottoman noble, found himself making a tough decision. He was the first of his kind to surrender, something rarely seen in Ottoman military history. But he had no other choice. He saw the pain and tiredness in his men, who had suffered for a week. Their spirits were broken, their bodies injured. Asking them to fight more would be pointless. So, he decided they should surrender, hoping to save some of their lives from the decreasing Ottoman population.
Some of his soldiers obeyed this command, dropping their weapons to stay alive. They gave the keys of the forts to the Romans waiting outside. Others decided to leave the forts and try one last attack, aiming to reach their Sultan. But they were stopped by the troops of Helios, just a few hundred meters away. Antonius, the Roman leader, saw this and ordered that no Ottoman prisoners should be mistreated and that the bodies of the fallen should be taken care of with the respect they deserve.
Sadly, Alaüddin Bey didn’t live to see the end of this sad Chapter. Right after ordering the surrender, he went to his office and sat on his worn-out couch for hours until night fell. The Romans were already entering the forts with the surrendered Ottomans standing aside, looking at the flag of the crescent and the star and the golden Kilij blade, a gift from Hamza Pasha. After a while, he hid his face in pain.
Can he be blamed for this defeat? Of course, he can, his ill understanding on military matters have been shown to everyone including his own men in the past week, but did he do this on purpose? No, he built these chains of forts, he knows each and every corner of this fort by his heart, these forts are his creation, are his children, which is why both Hamza Pasha, the Sultan, and the Sultaness Dowager appointed him as the leader, giving him a tremendous amount of trust and power that he had never ever imagined before, but eventually he failed all of their trust.
Sounds of crying and shouting could already be heard in the familiar parade square below him, where he had received the command from Hamza Pasha, who later died in Edirne.
In the throes of anguish, he lifted the golden Kilij blade, studying every inch of it. The advancing footfalls and voices of the Rumelians grew increasingly clear. With a heavy heart, he unsheathed the ceremonial Kilij blade, tidied the flag of the crescent and the star, dusted off the grime and blood from his uniform, and in one swift, resolute motion, he carved his own life thread. He fell back onto the couch, lifeblood spilling out onto the once immaculate surroundings.
Just a few seconds later, the Romans forced the door open only to find their target already dead on the couch. The leader of the Roman soldiers sighed and told his men to move the body away carefully, with respect.
...
Subsequent fighting lasted for another day, and by dawn the Sultan knows, that there will not be any reinforcements coming for him.
The Ottoman nobles decided to abandon their Sultan.
Maybe these nobles have already assumed Beyezid II to be killed in action.
Though the Ottoman people and soldiers have not yet abandoned their Sultan but looking at the group of people around him decreasing as each minute pass, Beyezid II knows that he would not have any more chance of leaving this place on foot.
With a jeering laugh and a bitter grin, the Sultan raised his hands, walked to the front of the defensive formation, and allowed the Kilij blade to slip out of his hands, dropping onto the ground, under the shocking eyes of both the Romans and the Ottoman Janissaries.
"Είμαι ο Σουλτάνος των Οθωμανών! Απαιτώ να συναντήσω τον Καίσαρά σας αμέσως!"
"I am the Sultan of the Ottomans! I demand to meet your Caesar right away!"
The Romans looked at one another, with no one getting into action. But at least, for now, the fight has paused. Half a minute later, a man dressed as a Roman chief came out of the line and took a few looks at the Sultan before saying a few words and went away. This man made the Sultan’s heart dip, because from the looks of the man, he is clearly of an Ottoman Turkish descendent.
Has the Ottomans under Rumelian rule given up their national identity?
...
Antonius De’Ricci is called to the spot by the lieutenant, where the two monarchs finally met again with one another after a whole two days of fighting, under the shines of the moon and the stars, once again, just like how they met for the first time at the start of this grand battle.
The Ottoman Janissaries have surrendered, with their weapons and armours piled by a side, and all of them sat down by one side with their heads lowered and their pride gone.
The young Sultan said nothing, there are only hate in his eyes, as he continued to gaze at this middle-aged man before him, wishing to tear the man apart if he can, never has he hated someone so much before in his entire life, not even Candarli Halil Pasha. While Antonius simply sat there, drinking the wine in his pouch, with no emotions on his face.
The Sultan is still yet way too young, unlike his father Mehmed II and grandfather Murad II, he still does not understand that it is best for one to hide his emotions from his opponents, as it gives a hint on what do one have in mind.
"Your courtier, Alaüddin Bey" Antonius spoke first. "Has committed suicide."
The Sultan gave a cold humph. "He might not be a very faithful Muslim, but he is definitely a faithful Ottoman noble."
"Unlike the other Beys and Aghas who have fled and left you alone here?" Antonius jeered.
The Sultan remained silent on this topic and asked. "What are you going to do to me and my men?"
"I don’t know yet." Antonius replied with a formal posture. "My staff are still thinking about this, but worry not your Majesty, there are definitely enough food and medication for your men."
"How about this, Caesar, let my men go." The young Sultan leaned forward trying to persuade the man who is twice as old as him. "Let my men go, and I shall stay with you, as your hostage, I am the one who is solely responsible for this unfortunate war, but my men are innocent, for they are merely following my orders."
Antonius looked right into the eyes of the Sultan, and slowly he shook his head pointing towards the Sultan. "Both you, and your troops, shall stay here... Sultan, do you still think your Sultanate are going to still exist after this?"
The grin filled with hope started to freeze on Beyezid II’s face.
"Thrace has been taken away from the Romans for too long, way too long, and now, with this opportunity, I am going to return the entire of Thrace to the Romans, before marching on to seek revenge on those crooked twats sitting in Constantinople. But worry not, for you shall keep your name as the Sultan, and reside in Thessaly, while your men shall become the citizens of the empire, living peacefully under Pax Romanum."
