Chapter 600: Blood As Tear
As the Sultan stabbed the stick into what seemed the center of his throat, a gasp of shock echoed through the tent. The Caesar’s guards, trained for moments of unexpected chaos, surged forward in unison attempting to seek a chance to save the Sultan’s valued life. While the Caesar, yet to recover from the shock and confusion of the young Sultan’s actions, yelled at the top of his lungs. "Stop him! At once! Now!"
However, before they could reach the Sultan, a sturdy figure came leaping out of the way stopping in the paths of the guards. It is that Ottoman Janissary guard of the Sultan, who is up until now silent all the way. He gripped on to that pathetic meat cutter of his, firmly, his body forming an unyielding barricade and intercepting against the rushing guards.
"My Sultan shall not be defiled by thou unworthy hands!" he roared, brandishing his weapon with alarming menace.
The guards skidded to a halt, with their attention on the Janissary. "But we are here to save the life of your Sultan!"
"If it is the Sultan’s wish to... to... have his own life to show the will and determination he has in redemption of his guilt and sins to God and the people of the Ottomans, then it shall be me, the only surviving Ottoman noble by his side, to support and aid him on the path. My Sultan shall not be stopped! Never!"
Antonius, witnessing the unfolding standoff, felt a sickening knot forming in his stomach, and an ache going up his forehead as the blood from his entire body started rushing up beaming his entire face red in fury. His eyes darted from the trembling Sultan to the stalwart Janissary, the Sultan on the ground, and to his own men. He felt that everything recently, has been against the tracks that he has designated in the planning phase, from the destruction of the Eastern corps, the suffering of Helios, the tragedies of Therma, the demise of Anjelo, all of these piling up in the heads of Antonius almost suffocating him, in fact he can already feel the loss of memory is getting onto him making him commit a few mistakes in his work recently.
Unable to contain his rage any longer, Antonius scoffed coldly at the Janissary. "I was led to believe that Ottomans were unfailingly loyal to their Sultan. It was only after witnessing Ottoman nobles fleeing in the face of my formidable army, and now you, a single Janissary, a pisspot who is never known on the battlefield, is preventing us from providing life-saving aid to your Sultan, that I realise the truth. And you – not a single tear for your dying Sultan! If you have any shred of decency left, step aside you sickening fool! Try to prove your valor somewhere else but here!"
In response, the Janissary thrust the tip of his blade into his own arm, carving a deep wound. Blood flowed freely, splattering the ground below. He turned his fiery gaze towards Antonius and roared, "Behold! These are my tears for my Sultan! What more do you demand?"
Antonius, red-faced and seething, retorted, "And what if I were to make you a slave you little twat?"
"If that were my fate, I can only hope to rival the achievements of Spartacus!"
The sheer audacity of the retort pushed Antonius to the brink, his head pounding with uncontrolled rage. His surroundings blurred, forcing him to stagger backwards for support. His voice echoed throughout the tent, shaking its very foundations. "Let him have his wish! Kill him!"
The Janissary guard did not stand any chance against the guards of the Caesar, but that is no longer a concern for Antonius, as he left the tent, ventured outside to have a bit of a fresh air in order to soothe his still dazzling brain. A cry of agony can be heard from inside the tent just about the moment as the Caesar left the tent, with some fresh blood being splattered onto the tent. Soon, two bodies are carried out of the premise, with one being the Janissary guard who will be dumped into the woods later for the wild wolves, and the other one obviously being the young Sultan, with his face covered in blood, unsure of if it belongs to himself, or that Janissary guard before him.
Antonius now hates his rival to the fullest now, in fact some evil thoughts are already starting to emerge from the depth of his head in revenge of the torture that Janissary guard has just gave his mind. But as soon as he felt the pouch of Anna’s hair hanging by his chest, his mind is once again, like so many other occasions, cleansed and soothed.
He vowed to her that he would be like a merciful ruler matching Octavian, and so he shall be.
The medics came an hour later to Mauro, who then conveyed the words to the Caesar. "Admiral, the Sultan of the Ottomans have been saved from the verge of death and has regained his consciousness, but there is em... one unfortunate news with him, that is it seems that he has somehow managed to damage his voice, making him em... temporarily unable to speak."
The Caesar’s heart dipped, he was already expecting the worst to come of the Sultan, but now the implications of the Sultan has again casted the situation and the future into a dense fog and uncertainty, for no one will know what the Sultana Dowager will do if she gets the news about this."
"I want no information about the situation leaked to anywhere outside this camp, any offender shall be executed when caught red handed."
"Aye, admiral... your Majesty... General Julian came asking me, if they have the permission to continue the project working on the two rivers."
Antonius made another round of deep thoughts inside his mind, then nodded his head heavily. "Aye, continue with the projects, I want to see the river works finished in two weeks’ time, and remain vigilant for any possible enemy assaults."
"Yes, your Majesty."
"--- And also." Antonius hesitated. "Summon Abdullah and Anna, I need them now."
"... Yes, your Majesty."
Antonius took another deep breathe, and then went straight to the field hospital, where the Sultan is receiving emergency care. The Caesar greeted a few casualties, with that same old casual smile on his face giving all the troopers on beds here an inspiring speech, and once thanking them again for their efforts and sacrifices for the war, winning another round of cheers and applause. Every single soul here, apart from that one in the deepest care unit, loves and respects their Sultan, for the new form of lives, the freedom, the prosperity, the peace, for everything he has brought them.
Immediately after Antonius walked into the section where the Sultan is kept captive and taken good care in, the casual smile vanished from his face, and is replaced by a stern emotionless face with occasional twitches from his mouth lips. The Sultan and the Caesar met again, staring at one another, after just a three hours interval. But now everything between them have been changed; the Sultan is now wrapped around in a thick blood stopping bandage around his neck and head, with both of his hands handcuffed to the bed preventing him from attempting any dangerous thoughts once again.
There are nothing more between the two men as they gazed at one another, in silence. What is different is that the Sultan is looking at the Caesar in a rather calm way, with a slight what is seems cunning smile on his lips. While Antonius is still staring at the young Sultan, like how is an eagle attempting to eye its prey.
"Your Janissary guard is a brave man." Antonius spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "It is indeed a pity that he served, and died for you little prick rather than me. And, I hate you, I despise you, I look down upon any man who attempts suicide, for you have neither the guts nor the ability to face your future challenges, and the responsibilities that comes with you, instead you tried to pick an easy way out. You don’t deserve to be a Sultan; you can’t even match the bravery of your own Janissary."
Surprisingly, the Sultan nodded his head upon hearing the last part of the Caesar’s words.
"Durumunuz düzeldiğinde, iki gün içinde Edirne’ye hareket edeceğiz."
"We will depart for Edirne in two days’ time, once your conditions have improved."
The Caesar left after throwing these words to the bewildered Sultan, who is surprised that the supposedly illiterate pirate Caesar of the Rumelians, is able to speak in a fluent Turkish language.
Unknowingly to the Caesar, the final sentence he threw to the Sultan left the Sultan thinking, in his bed, about many things. Especially when now, he is bed ridden, he has all the time to think about all sorts of things that he has never thought about in his past, in order to kill the boredom of staring at the top of the tent.
