Constantinopolis (26 page)

Midnight passed and the fighting continued. He had expected the city to fall long past, but the bravery and persistence of the Greeks was surprising. He could not fail to be impressed with them. These Greeks with no hope, with everything against them, continued to battle for their city when clearly it must fall and it must fall now.

As the hours passed Mehmet’s enthusiasm turned to a growing frustration. He was not sure but it appeared the Greeks were actually pushing back the crescent toward the wall. How could hundreds defeat his tens of thousands? His men, so enthusiastic at first, were tiring. They had stopped shouting and some were beginning to slink away from the walls in the darkness, seeking safety and their tents. The first wanderings of dawn across the sky showed the city still miraculously holding.

Zaganos placed a gentle hand on Mehmet’s shoulder. “We should pull back for now my Lord. We have made great progress today. Let us give the men some rest, and surely we shall take the city today or tonight.”

“No! We will take the city now. I will not allow them to pull back. Better to kill them as they try to flee. Let them fear me more than they fear these wretched Greeks.” Mehmet’s blood was boiling. How could the city have survived the night? His men were worthless, they would be punished. They must be punished.

“My Lord, they have fought all night. They are exhausted. We need to pull back and regroup. There are so many dead and wounded near the breach now that we cannot press the attack any longer. Let us pull back and then hit them with fresh resources tonight. Give the men a few hours of rest and time to eat and recover.”

Mehmet could have torn his hair out in frustration. But he knew Zaganos was a great general and that his advice was sound. The Greeks could not repair this hole in one day. It was impossible.

“I will take your advice Zaganos, but I want the city taken tonight. Order the men back and give them a few hours of rest.”

Mehmet rode back to his tent and dismounted. He ordered food and drink, tearing a goblet from his servant and throwing it to the ground. He raised a mailed fist and nearly struck the frightened man but thought better of it and simply ordered the cowering man out of his tent. He lay down, exhausted, his head spinning. He tried to close his eyes and sleep for a short time but he was too frustrated. How could his men have failed him? Should he impale some or behead them to set an example? Would that action help or hurt things? Why were these infidel Greeks so impossible to defeat? He had crushed them before. His father had crushed them so many times it was difficult to count. They often fought bravely but never like this. What was it about this damned city? Was it impossible to capture? Was his father correct in giving up and finally leaving the city alone? Doubts spun through his head for another hour or so before he finally drifted off to a fitful sleep.

Mehmet awoke in the early afternoon. He left the tent to review the walls and was stunned. The Greeks were furiously constructing a wooden structure in the midst of the breach. Again he had to grudgingly admire the Greek initiative. Instead of attempting to rebuild the walls with stone, which was probably impossible with such short time and such a huge hole, they instead were crafting a makeshift wooden fortress to plug the hole. He had not thought such a thing was possible with a hole this size.

The wood already covered the entire breach and was being steadily built up. He realized that it was already too late to storm the wall again. He would have to batter this area with cannon as well, or choose another section of wall to attack. The moment of initiative had been lost. Why had Zaganos urged him to pull the men back? Was he in league with Halil? Mehmet dismissed this thought. He knew his friend certainly was not. There was no way he could have known that the Greeks would react so quickly. Even if they had continued to press the attack, it was likely the Greeks could have held. They even could have built the walls during the attack if need be. No, Zaganos had recommended the right decision. He would regroup and wait. He called off the attack for the evening, and asked for Zaganos to join him for dinner.

Zaganos showed up for dinner promptly. He appeared nervous and Mehmet realized his friend was afraid of what might be happening to him because of his failure at the wall. He smiled to himself. He enjoyed power, if only he could have it without the current restraints. Restraints imposed because of the foolishness of his youth.

Why must he still pay? He knew he had worked hard every moment since his terrible failure to assure he would never make the same mistakes again. How could he be sure though that it wasn’t some internal failing on his part? Perhaps he simply lacked some essential skill to rule? He certainly did not possess his father’s ability to inspire love. His father was not simply tolerated, he was the beloved leader of his people. Mehmet had never been able to accomplish the same. His people might grow to respect him, they certainly feared him already, but they would never love him.

So be it. He did not need their love. But without the forgiveness of love he had to inspire both respect and fear. He already possessed the former, but only accomplishments as a leader would give him the former. Thus this great gamble. Was it going to pay off? He was sure when he began that he could not fail. He was more prepared then perhaps anyone who had ever brought a force to the gates of Constantinople. Moreover the city was more vulnerable than it had ever been. This was not a capital bursting with population, riches and power. This was a mere shadow of its former self, a last gasp for the Greeks before the inevitable wave of the Ottomans washed forever over them. Did they not understand that? Why could they not simply surrender? He would honor his offer to them! He needed a period to build Constantinople back into a great city, his great city. The center of his new empire. He would give peace to all the West, at least for a time, then he would turn and wash over them. Soon the world would be one empire, one religion, for the glory of the Ottomans and Allah.

He must stop thinking. Keep going. He was committed and could not back out now. He had been so close last night. So close. But now he had to move on.

“Tell me about the mining progress my friend, how are they doing?”

Zaganos looked relieved. “I can certainly do so My Lord, I did want to speak about last night’s failure. I . . .”

“Do not worry about that Zaganos. The decision was mine and I appreciated the advice. The decision was the correct one. I had hoped we would win through but the Greeks showed more resistance than I thought they were capable of. What we need are multiple breaches at the same time. I believe they are using a reserve force to rush to the walls. If they have to deal with multiple breaches, they will be overwhelmed. A series of mining explosions should accomplish just that.”

“I appreciate your wisdom My Lord. Concerning the mining, as you ordered, I have implemented a number of different steps. We have engineers digging tunnels at seven different locations. They have made significant progress in each tunnel, although at different speeds, depending on the type of soil, rock composition, and so on that they have encountered. I believe they will be ready to explode simultaneously within just a few days. If we are successful with even half of them, we should have three or four breaches at the same time. If we strike quickly, we will overwhelm the walls and take the city.”

“Excellent. Excellent job. I do not want this to be our only plan though, so keep up the attacks on the wooden palisade too. If we can blow through that again, I still think we may be able to get through. I would like to inspect a tunnel after dark.”

“I am not sure that is wise My Lord. These tunnels are fragile, and at times collapse.”

“If so, it would be Allah’s will. I want to see a tunnel.”

“Very well my Lord. We can go after dinner.”

When they had eaten a light dinner of cold lamb and rice and discussed some additional details about the siege, Zaganos beckoned the Sultan out of the tent. They did not bother to bring horses around because the distance to one of the tunnels was relatively close. They made their way as quietly as possible through the Ottoman camp and eventually arrived at the entrance to one of the tunnels, which was within one of the tents to disguise the process. Zaganos climbed down first along with one of the engineers as a guide, and Mehmet followed down after him.

The tunnel was narrow, barely two men wide, and only a few feet tall so that the men could not stand, but rather had to bend over to walk. The air was hot dusty and bitter. The tunnel was lit with periodic torches nailed to the walls. Mehmet saw that every few feet or so the tunnel was reinforced with wooden beams. He found the tunnel unpleasant. He could not imagine laboring for days at a time under the ground like this. He listened to the engineer’s description of their efforts for some time, then thanked him for the tour and crawled back out of the hole. He ordered Zaganos to double the rations for the tunnelers, and to promise them a double share in the spoils if the city was taken by the planned explosions. He thanked Zaganos for the evening and the tour, and made his way back with his personal guards to his tent. When he arrived he learned that the spy had returned and was waiting in his tent.

He immediately entered and found the man sitting down, waiting in the darkness. The spy knelt before him, hands out in full prostration.

“What do you have for me?” asked Mehmet.

“Many new things my Lord.”

“And what do you want in return?” So far he had asked for nothing in return for information, but Mehmet knew this was a game with but one ending. He would be asked a price in exchange for these secrets.

“I ask only to be of service.”

“You have been of service and you will have my gratitude and much more.” The information about the fleet and the size of the defense force had already been invaluable. What new information would he have? “Tell me everything.”

“First, we have no knowledge of a definite relief fleet coming from the Italians, or anyone else for that matter.”

“That’s good to know. What about the Hungarians?”

“We received back a short message that he was interested in the situation, but no commitment. I don’t think Hunyadi intends to assist us. There was another request sent, but we should have had an answer by now.”

Mehmet was relieved by both pieces of news, although he was not sure he could trust this man. Still, it would help him to plan, particularly since the information so far had been so reliable.

“Tell me about the breach. How were you able to withstand it?”

“We were barely able to My Lord. We thought we had lost the city. We have a reserve force set up to rush to any breach. If they had not arrived in time, the city would have fallen. As it was, half of the reserve force was wiped out in the fighting at the breach. If you had not withdrawn, I think the city would have fallen.”

So it was a mistake to pull back? He knew it! Why had he listened to Zaganos? He needed to trust his own instincts in these things. The opportunity to take the city was there and he let it slip through. Next time he would not let his men pull back. If they complained he would kill a few. They would push until they were through next time.

“Anything else you can tell me?”

“Not at this time my Lord.”

“I thank you for telling me these things. As I said before, if your words are true you will be rewarded when the city falls. If they are false, you shall suffer like nobody else will suffer. Do you understand?”

The spy bowed. “Yes my Lord.”

“Now leave me.”

The man departed and Mehmet sat down, ordering drink and food to be brought to him while he pondered this new information. So the Greeks had no definite help? Interesting. His greatest fear was a relief fleet, or perhaps even more fearful, an overwhelming attack from the Hungarians. John Hunyadi had been stopped before, but only barely. He was the greatest field commander Mehmet’s father had ever faced. Mehmet knew if the foolish infidels ever rallied around him, and Hunyadi was provided with a substantial army, he would threaten the Ottoman presence in Europe.

These foolish Christians. So petty and divided. Fighting city to city, and even within kingdoms, for money and power. It had been so easy for Mehmet’s father to pit one against the other. His father had been trapped in Anatolia when a large army invaded his European territories with Hunyadi in the lead. Europe was lost if Murad could not return. What happened? He bought his passage across from the Genoese. These Christians sold out their fellow infidels, ultimately resulting in thousands of dead and the loss of the greatest opportunity to remove the Turks forever from Europe. All for a little gold and favorable trading rights.

Now the same thing was happening. Mehmet was vulnerable while his forces were concentrated against Constantinople. If the Italians and Hungarians would only work together for a small period of time they could catch him against the walls of the city both by sea and by land. They might destroy his army, even kill him, and drive the Ottomans from Europe.

Instead they had signed treaties with Mehmet. Treaties by which they were apparently abiding. If this spy’s words were true, then no help was coming to the city. He would not trust the words completely, but it gave him confidence that he would be able to take the city before any real help arrived.

Take the city! It had almost been his. Why did he listen to Zaganos? The fool, he was getting too conservative in his middle years. A younger general would have pushed harder. He would have been pressing Mehmet to continue the attack, rather than advising him to retreat. The city would already have fallen. Had Zaganos betrayed him? The thought wandered through his mind again. He could not believe it was true. A betrayal could only be for the benefit of Halil. How would that help Zaganos? If Mehmet fell, surely his “new friends” his Christian converts would fall with him. Zaganos could not be motivated by assisting Halil, and if he was not helping the Grand Vizier, then he must have been sincere in his belief that the city could not be taken at that juncture.