Siege

by Jack Hight

  Eugenius entered to find the ground floor of the tower empty and dark. There were no other doors, nor any windows. On one side of the tower a staircase curved up to the floor above. On the other side, another staircase ran down into the floor. 'Follow me,' he said, leading the way down.

  The lower level was crowded with a dozen soldiers. They were grouped around a thick, wooden door that was studded with iron supports — the Kerkoporta. Three huge beams of wood lay across it, barring it against attack, and a tall, well-muscled man stood leaning against it. All the soldiers were Greeks, which was a good thing. They would be easier to handle than the Latins.

  'Who is in command here?' Eugenius asked.

  'I am,' the man leaning against the door answered.

  'Your men are needed at the Mesoteichion,' Eugenius told him.

  'We were told by the emperor himself to stay here and guard the Kerkoporta.'

  'My men and I have been sent to hold the door,' Eugenius responded. 'We were manning the cannons but ran out of powder. We are not well armoured and are of no use at the Mesoteichion. They need brave men in strong armour.'

  The Greek leader looked sceptically at the unsavoury lot with Eugenius, but finally he nodded. 'Very well,' he said. 'We will go where we are needed. Guard the door well, and if there is trouble, send for help. Whatever you do, do not let the Turks inside the walls.'

  'We will fight to the death,' Eugenius told him. The Greek captain led his men up the stairs and when the last of them had left, Eugenius turned to the thieves. 'Help me unbar the door.'

  'But the captain said to let no one through,' a thin thief with a pock-marked face replied.

  'You are not being paid to think,' Eugenius snapped. 'If you want the money I promised you, then you will do as you are told.' The thieves nodded and set to work, helping Eugenius slide the heavy wooden beams that barred the door from their supports. Then Eugenius unbolted the door and pulled it open. In the dim twilight he saw the wall stretching before him down towards the sea. Turkish dead and wounded littered the ground. The fighting appeared to have momentarily stopped, but Eugenius could hear the loud roar of Turkish cannons. He closed the door but did not bolt it.

  'It is time to go,' he told the thieves. 'To the cistern, where you will be paid.'

  'But we can't leave the door unbarred,' the pock-marked thief said. The others nodded their agreement.

  'You will do as you are told,' Eugenius ordered.

  'I will not betray my emperor or my city,' the pock-marked thief said defiantly.

  'Very well,' Eugenius replied. In a blur of motion, he drew his sword and slashed through the pock-marked thief's throat before the unfortunate man's weapon was halfway out of its scabbard. The thief dropped to the ground, gasping and twitching as his blood pooled on the stone floor. The other thieves drew their weapons. 'If you fight me, then he will not be the last of you to die,' Eugenius told them. 'And what will the emperor give you for your heroism? Nothing. But if you do as I say, then you will be both alive and well paid. Which will it be?'

  The thieves looked one to another, then one by one sheathed their daggers and swords. 'You have chosen wisely,' Eugenius told them. 'Now come. Let us go and see that you receive your reward.' The sun had yet to rise, but the sky had lightened enough so that Longo could just see the Turkish cannons on the distant ramparts. The cannons had been firing without pause for half an hour, and the wall trembled beneath him with every cannonball that struck it. Longo turned and watched the men below. They were placing mantelets in a long line, using the mobile wooden barriers to create a third wall in the space between the inner and outer walls. 'Move those mantelets closer together!' Longo ordered.

  Tristo approached along the wall. 'The lancers are ready. If the cavalry breaks through, then they know what to do.'

  Longo nodded. 'And the emperor? He is safe?'

  'As safe as can be. He's behind the wall of mantelets, along with Dalmata and the Varangian guard.'

  'Good.' Longo turned to shout more orders to his men when he felt the ground beneath his feet shift violently. He and Tristo just had time to leap off the wall before it collapsed, spilling earth, stones and wooden supports outwards towards the Turkish cannons.

  Longo landed on his stomach and rolled over. As the dust settled around him, he could see that a section of the wall some twenty yards wide had collapsed. Through the gap he caught sight of the Anatolian cavalry, who had poured out from behind the Turkish lines and were charging hard for the break in the Christian defences. They would be on him in seconds. He felt himself grabbed by the shoulders and hauled to his feet. He turned to find Tristo standing beside him. 'Come on! Run!'

  They turned and sprinted for the line of mantelets. Behind him, Longo could hear the rumble of hooves coming closer. As Longo and Tristo ran, a line of Christian lancers stepped out in front of the mantelets and braced the butts of their long spears against the ground, creating a wall of spears. Longo ran hard for the line of lancers. The thunder of hooves was deafening, and he could almost feel the point of a Turkish spear in his back. And then he was through the Christian line to safety.

  A second later, the charging Turkish cavalry reached the wall of spears. The better riders managed to turn their horses aside. Others were thrown as their horses stopped short before the spears and reared up in protest. Still others fell victim to the lancers. Within seconds the Turkish charge had been reduced to a chaos of frightened, riderless horses and trampled men. A cheer went up from the Christian lines.

  'Steady men!' Longo yelled. 'They'll be back!' Sure enough, the Anatolian cavalry quickly regrouped as more and more horsemen flooded into the space between the walls. They advanced more slowly this time, firing arrows as they approached. More and more lancers fell under the rain of arrows, and the Anatolians surged into the gaps. 'Behind the mantelets!' Longo yelled. 'Retreat! Retreat!'

  The lancers fell back through the spaces between the mantelets and the Turkish cavalry surged forward. 'Now!' Longo yelled. 'Light them!' He himself took a torch and touched it to the nearest mantelet, which burst instantly into flames. All of the mantelets had been covered with Greek fire, and now as they were lit one after another, they formed a semicircular wall of towering flames. Faced with the wall of fire, the Turkish horses panicked. Riders were thrown as their horses backed and reared, refusing to approach the inferno. The Anatolian ranks were thrown into chaos.

  'Now, men!' Longo yelled. 'Charge!' Longo led the Christians out from behind the flaming mantelets and into the mass of struggling horsemen. He pulled the first Turk he came to from his saddle, finished him, and then mounted the horse. He rode into the confused crowd of Turks, striking out to either side. Behind him, the lancers were progressing through the Turkish ranks, spearing Turk after Turk off their frightened horses. The Turks gave ground, slowly at first and then faster until they were in full retreat. The Christians surged after them, pushing the Anatolians out past the gap in the walls.

  Longo reigned in his horse in the gap. Before him, the Anatolian cavalry were retreating across the plain, lit by the rays of the rising sun. 'Halt, men!' Longo yelled to the Christian forces around him. 'Let them run! Prepare to hold the gap against the next attack!'

  'Well done, signor!' Constantine said as he rode up beside Longo. 'The sun rises and the city still stands. They have failed again. This day will be a glorious one in our history.'

  Longo shook his head. 'Something is not right. They attacked with small numbers and retreated too easily. It is almost as if they expected the cavalry to fail, as if they were only trying to distract us.' While the bulk of his men were busy attacking the Mesoteichion, Ishak Pasha led a select group of three hundred Anatolian cavalry further north. As he galloped towards the Kerkoporta, grapefruit-sized stones joined the arrows that were raining down from the wall ahead. One struck the rider to his right, crushing his skull and killing him instantly. Ishak spurred his horse on, pushing it towards the narrow crevice where the sea wall ran behind the last great tow
er of the double wall. The Kerkoporta was still not visible, and Ishak was beginning to think that he had been sent on a fool's errand. Then he saw the door, set into the wall of the tower, far back in the narrow space.

  Ishak dismounted and hurried forward, rocks falling all around him. He put his shoulder into the door and pushed hard. The door swung open, and Ishak found himself in an empty room, lit by a single torch. A staircase ran up the far wall. 'Come on!' he called to his men, who were filing in behind him. 'Follow me!'

  Ishak hurried up the stairs to another empty room and then out into the city. To his left stood the palace of the Christian emperor. Before him, a maze of empty streets wound their way further into the city. Ishak took a moment to get his bearings. 'This way, towards the Mesoteichion!' he ordered and began jogging along the wall to the right. Most of his men followed, but two dozen broke off, heading for the palace.

  'Stop! What are you doing?' Ishak yelled after them.

  'You fight. We're going to get rich!' one of the men called back. The rest simply ignored Ishak.

  'Should we go after them?' one of Ishak's lieutenants asked.

  'No, let them go. We are needed elsewhere.' Sofia stood at the window of her apartments while William sat nearby, fidgeting with a dagger. The window looked out on to the city, away from the walls, but standing there, Sofia could hear the sound of the distant battle. The cannons had stopped some time ago, and now she heard only a dull roar, marked by the occasional shout that carried to her room. Eventually, these noises gave way to a rhythmic pounding — the sound of thousands of men marching. The sounds told her little of what was happening, but as long as the bells near the walls did not ring, she knew that the walls held and the Christian soldiers fought on. But the bells could not tell her if Longo was alive.

  Suddenly there was silence outside the window. Sofia strained to hear, but there was nothing. Then, from behind her, in the hallway outside her quarters, she heard shouting in Turkish, followed by a woman's terrified scream. 'What was that?' William asked.

  'Turks!' Sofia gasped. 'They are in the palace.'

  'Then the walls must have fallen,' William responded. 'We must get to the ship.'

  'Wait. The bells have not rung to sound the retreat. This is something else. If the Turks are inside the city, then Longo must be warned. We must…' She was interrupted by a pounding on the door to her apartments. William and Sofia backed away into Sofia's bedroom as the door to her sitting room shook under heavy blows. Then the wood around the lock splintered, and the door swung open. Six Turkish soldiers stood in the doorway.

  'What have we here?' their leader leered when he saw Sofia. 'It's been too long since I've had a woman, especially one so tasty.' The other Turks grinned in agreement as they stepped into the sitting room.

  William drew his sword and stood in the doorway to the bedroom. 'Come and get her, you bastards,' he growled.

  'No, there is another way,' Sofia said, pulling William away. 'Follow me.' As the Turks surged towards the bedroom, Sofia rushed William across the room to the secret passage and pushed the door open. They entered the tunnel, and Sofia slammed the door shut. Almost immediately there was a pounding on the hidden door. 'We must hurry,' Sofia said.

  They had no light, so she took William's hand and led him down the dark passage. Behind them, the secret door was smashed open. Light flooded the tunnel, followed by the Turks. 'Run!' William yelled. They sprinted down the tunnel. Sofia took them into a side passage and down a spiral staircase. By the time they reached the bottom, the tunnel was again pitch black. Above them, Sofia could hear the Turks coming after them. She led William to the left and then turned right down a long corridor. They came to a door, and Sofia fumbled for the handle in the darkness. Finally she pushed the door open and they stepped out into the morning light. Looking back, Sofia saw that the Turks had just entered the tunnel behind them. She slammed the door closed.

  'Quick. Over here,' William called and headed across the street to the nearest house. He kicked the door open and they entered, slamming the door shut behind them. Sofia went to the window and peered out through the closed shutters. Across the street, the Turks poured out of the secret passage. After a brief discussion, they moved off at a run, heading for the front of the palace.

  'We're safe,' Sofia said. 'They've gone.'

  'Come, we must get to the ship,' William urged.

  'No, we must warn Longo that the Turks are in the city. Our men cannot hold the wall if they are forced to fight on two fronts.'

  William shook his head. 'There is nothing that we can do, Princess. If the Turks are in the city, then it is too late to warn Longo.'

  'But we must try.'

  'The Turks could return at any moment,' William insisted. 'And I told Longo that I would protect you.'

  'I am not some weak girl that you need protect!' Sofia said, her eyes flashing. 'I am a princess, and you had best do as I say. Go, William. Warn Longo. I will be safe enough until you return.'

  'Very well.' William opened the door but paused before leaving. 'I will return soon. Wait here.' Sofia nodded, and William left. She closed the door after him, shoved a heavy oak table in front of it, and sat down to wait. Longo stood in the gap where the outer wall had collapsed. In the golden morning light, he could see thousands of black-armoured janissaries marching towards the walls in tightly grouped battalions. He turned and looked along the line of Christian soldiers who stood filling the twenty-yard-wide gap in the wall. In the centre stood Constantine and Dalmata, surrounded by the Varangian guard. The men to either side of them were a mixture of Greeks, Italians and Turks who lived in Constantinople and who fought to defend their city. They had all proven themselves in battle today, but still, their numbers were few. The other commanders of Constantinople were hard pressed and had only been able to spare a few men to reinforce the Mesoteichion. The ranks of men filling the gap could not have been more than ten deep, and they would have to hold the gap against a force of thousands.

  Longo stepped out from the line and addressed the men. 'Stand strong, men!' he shouted. 'This attack will be the Turks' last. We no longer have a wall to fight from. But if we fight as one, then we can defeat them. We have but to hold this gap, and the day will be ours. Are you ready to fight?' The men roared. 'Fight, then, for Constantinople!'

  'For Constantinople!' the men roared back. 'For Constantinople!' Then, in the midst of the Turkish ranks, a horn sounded, and the janissaries rushed forward with a deafening roar that drowned out the Christians' cheers.

  'Stand firm, men!' Longo yelled, readying his sword and shield. 'Good luck,' he said more quietly to Tristo, who stood to his right. 'I am sorry that I got you into this.'

  Tristo hefted his giant battle-axe. 'There's no place I'd rather be,' he grinned. Then, his smile faded. 'I've chosen a name for my child: Benito. If I fall, look after him for me.'

  'I will,' Longo said.

  A second later, the charging janissaries stopped short twenty yards from the Christian line and raised their bows. 'Shields up, men!' Longo yelled as the janissaries released a volley of arrows and crossbow bolts. An arrow embedded itself in Longo's shield and another skittered off the back of his armour. The man to his left fell screaming as a crossbow bolt struck him in the high. Then the hail of arrows ended, and with a roar, the janissaries resumed their charge. They slammed into the Christian line, driving it backwards. Longo got in a few good blows before the press of Turks became so great that his sword was useless. He was sandwiched between Tristo to his right and another Christian to his left, and crushed between two janissaries in front and two Christians behind him. The battle had become a shoving match, and for now, the Turks were winning, their numbers and momentum pushing the Christians backwards.

  'Push men!' Longo yelled. 'Don't give ground! If they breach the gap then we are lost!' The two Christians behind Longo put their shields into his back and pushed hard, shoving him forward. All along the line the Christians dug in. Their armour, made of solid steel plat
es, protected them against the press of men, while the Turks in their lighter leather and chain armour were being slowly crushed to death in the crowd. As the leading janissaries ceased pushing, the Turkish advance ground to a halt. All along the gap the tightly packed Christians shoved against the crowd of janissaries, with neither side giving an inch. More and more janissaries poured into the attack, but the Christians held firm. 'Keep pushing, men!' Longo yelled. 'We're holding them!'

  Then, there was a sudden commotion in the ranks behind Longo. 'The gates are opening!' someone shouted. 'Reinforcements! Reinforcements have come!' another cried. Soon, the entire Christian line had erupted into cheering. Then, just as suddenly, the cheering stopped.

  The men behind Longo gave way, and he glanced behind him to see what had happened. 'Mother of God!' he cursed, for the gates had not opened to reinforcements. Turks were pouring through them and attacking the Christians from behind. The Christian line dissolved under the two-way attack. Longo found himself isolated in a small group with Tristo, Constantine, Dalmata and six members of the Varangian guard. They formed a circle with Constantine in the middle. Turks swarmed around them, eager to win the glory of striking down the emperor.

  Longo fought with Tristo and Dalmata on either side of him. Tristo had dropped his axe and was now wielding his huge, four-foot-long sword. The heavy sword smashed through leather and steel alike, shattering swords and removing heads with every swing. Dalmata fought with a short, curved sword in either hand, parrying and slashing in a deadly blur of activity. Longo fought with his thin, slightly curved Asian sword and a small shield, dealing out death with lethal efficiency.