Mahmud Pasha Angelovi still cannot calculate the shock he got the other day when he received the news that the Sultan's navy has completely vanquished the other day in the imperial tent.
His Sultan informed them of this tragic news that they will never be able to see the Kapudan Pasha and his ships once again, which only means one thing. The plan to have a prolong siege to force the Romans into submission is aborted. Reinforcements supplies from the Christendom and Black Sea might arrive in any moments supplying the Romans with all the supplies they need. Furthermore, the Ottomans will probably not be able to get further aid in manpower and supplies from Anatolia, because if the Roman admiral is a man with sense he will seal off and blockade any transport between Rumelia and Anatolia.
In other words, the siege has to end fast, or else the Sultan's dream of conquering Constantinople, the red apple, will end fast. Mahmud Pasha Angelovi is not a pasha known for virtues of merciless, instead he is known to be knowledgeable and bibliophilic, but also war never changes, it changes the people in it. He adopted an unsparing way of command, if he doesn't his Sultan will be merciless towards him.
The Romans are pushed back to where they belong to. While the Ottoman warriors are forced to stop as they enter the range of Roman archers on the walls.
But what is the price to pay?
The northern wind roared as it soars through the battlefield sending its frosty rage to everyone in its way. Under the wintry light of the early spring sun, the corpses of the Ottoman warriors in all shapes remains already still like ice, slightly frozen, unable to move again. These bodies, counted in hundreds, are scattered all over the battlefield. Some of them have already been stepped beyond human shapes making it hard to identify who is whom. There is no such thing as dog tags in these times.
Mahmud Pasha Angelovi watches monotonously as these tired, famished, exhausted and mentally depleted warriors trudge past him. Despite just acquiring a victory, their heads were lowered, flags of honour are torn, insignia missing, sobers and whines can be heard among them.
"This army is unable to perform any combat missions for a very long period of time after this." The bey beside Mahmud Pasha Angelovi remarked.
Mahmud Pasha Angelovi nodded. "Prepare for next round of siege, I will go and see the Sultan himself to request for permission to send the Janissaries."
After that, he put on his white gloves and rode towards the north for Mehmed.
Meanwhile inside the city, Gate of Xylokerkos, Giovanni and his men returned under the covering fire of the archers on the walls.
Upon entering the gate, Giovanni immediately took off his bascinet and face guard, then threw it onto the ground. Despite his eyes covered with sweat and salt he immediately rushed to help a fellow man of his who was badly injured by a hammer strike which was going for Giovanni's neck, but somehow it hit the back of the poor fellow thus saving Giovanni's life giving him time to slit his blade into that man's throat.
"We are back in safety! My man! Do not wake up! Do not sleep!"
Giovanni and another mercenary dragged the man across the muddy dirt ground, not realising that the man in his arms are already out of breath with his feet dangling freely.
Giovanni lost thirty-five men on this assault, not as high as expected, but it still caused pain in his heart as many of these chosen men are his brothers who followed him all the way since the start of his mercenery career, and most of them are officer cadets in his forces which forms his backbones. Thirty-five of them gone means his army is now short of thirty-five officers to lead and train soldiers.
The Ottomans are laying siege to the walls like crazy these few days, sending one wave after other assaults on various sections of the walls showing totally no sympathy towards their own soldiers. Thanks to them the Roman defenders have to also crawl up from their slumber and get into action. Although the Ottomans have reached the extent that they are so tired that they can barely move, but their opponents the Romans have reached the state they can sleep standing and probably die in their dreams from exhaustion.
It has been already two months into the siege, and it has evolved into a prolonged siege, a war of attrition. No commander is ever willing to do stuff like this, even for a vast Sultanate like the Ottomans it is too costly just for one city, one city that is only a political silhouette for the young sultan Mehmed to prove himself, there must be a reason for Mehmed to put in such effort, taking such losses at the risk that his soldiers might revolt against him.
Giovanni thought for a while inside his head, tried to connect the entangled web together but failed, it is just too complicated for him. How he wishes that Abdullah is here to put up things together and analysis for him. He is just not that kind of person into analysing brain works.
Thinking about all these messy stuff, Giovanni is too tired to even take off his armour and went into sweet dreams under a supposed fruit vendor cart before the war. He dreamed of Therma his lover, dreamed of her food, dreamed of her perfume, dreamed of her.
"Booooommm." The blasting blows from a horn forced Giovanni to wake up and keep his Therma inside his dreams, the horns signalling that the enemies have came again. Giovanni had no choice but to force himself to stand back up, washed his face with a stagnant water on the ground and climb back onto the walls.