Reformation (19 page)

Though he was
the architect for it all, Valnor could scarcely believe he was once again standing outside the stout city walls of Constantinople.  Three months.  Once Sultan Mehmed II was convinced to invest the resources needed to build the monstrous cannon, it only took three months to lay the molds, forge the massive bombard and transport it into position to menace the city.

Accompanying the grand cannon were about
eighty thousand of the Sultan’s closest friends, including ten thousand Janissaries who served as his elite infantry.  This compared to roughly seven thousand defenders who seemed unconcerned by the siege.  They knew that many had tried and failed to take the city.  They were confident that so long as the walls stood the ratio could be a million to one and the city would still hold out.

As Valnor stood alongside the Sultan under the sizeable shadow cast by the massive cannon
, he observed that the walls of Constantinople now looked much less forbidding than before.

“You had better be right about this,” Sultan
Mehmed said coldly.

“I am,” Valnor answered.  “
However, even with the Theodosian Walls leveled, if all their defenders are focused on our entry point they will inflict heavy losses upon your men.”

The Sultan slowly turned his head to look right at Valnor and delivered his cold reply.  “In the end, war always turns into a bloody business.  Such is the life of a soldier.”

“We can make that life much easier on your men by threatening to open a second avenue of attack on the city,” Valnor offered.  “We should make the naval blockade a credible threat for attack along the Golden Horn.  That will force them to man the battlements along the sea wall drawing thousands away from the real point of assault to make victory that much easier and less costly to your ranks.”

Sultan
Mehmed dropped his arrogant façade for a moment to consider Valnor’s suggestion.  “That is a worthwhile plan, but they have stretched a series of boom chains across the entrance.  There is no way to get through the opening and threaten a landing.”

“The peninsula reaching out to create that narrow mouth is only about a mile wide if I am not mistaken,” Valnor pondered.  “It would not take much to cut the trees and create a road of greased logs to transport galleys over land a
nd into the waters of the Golden Horn.”

“Could that really be done?”
the Sultan asked one of his many generals clustered around the massive cannon being assembled.

The officer looked
at the thirty foot long metal body of the cannon and then at the five dozen oxen used to haul it into position.  “Those ships are certainly no heavier than this cannon.  I do not see why it would not be possible.  It will take a few days to accomplish, but with the three hour reload time this bombard weapon requires between each shot, we should have the time to spare.”

Sultan
Mehmed pursed his lips in contemplation and then finally gave his orders.  “Make it happen.  Now, let us see what this grand weapon I spent so much treasure building can do.”

All but the crew of twenty men with cotton wadding in their ears stepped a hundred yards back from the cannon.  A gunner holding a billowing torch looked up for permission from his Sultan to light the fuse. 
Mehmed raised his arm and thrust it toward the city walls.  An instant later a bone jarring explosion sent a six hundred pound piece of stone on its way.

Five long seconds later
, Valnor watched the boulder strike ground three quarters of a mile away.  It landed twenty feet in front of the wall and then slammed into it on the second bounce.  Even with the severely reduced velocity, the strike managed to topple the upper half of the wall in a section fifty feet wide.  The awesome power of the weapon was undeniable.

Valnor lowered the lens
of his magnifying viewer and handed it to Sultan Mehmed to inspect the impressive damage inflicted by just one shot that, in reality, was mostly a miss.  He looked over at the cannon in time to see the last remnants of smoke clearing away and the crew already at work reloading the weapon with the explosive black powder he concocted for this occasion.

Valnor
ran over to the crew to make sure the next shot was even more impressive.  “Raise the angle half a degree and load one of the specials now that we have the range set.”

To pass
time, the Sultan and his entourage of officers adjourned for their midday meal and returned in time to watch the second shot sent on its way.  This time the projectile buried itself into the base of the wall on the fly causing the section of wall to teeter and lean but not crumble.

A few seconds later the fuse on the metal ordinance reached the black powder stored in the center.  The resulting explosion blasted the section of wall completely apart
with large fragments sent several hundred feet into the air.  When the smoke cleared, a gaping hole a hundred feet wide with a crater ten feet deep appeared where the proud defensive wall once stood.

“One down, eight to go,” the Sultan proudly declared.

The results were better than Valnor could have ever expected, but he also knew they all would not fall this easily so he needed to temper Mehmed’s expectations.  “The outer section of city walls was constructed in the eleventh century and is by far the weakest.  This will take time, Your Majesty.”

“Not nearly as much time as starving them out,”
the Sultan commended.  “Move in the regular troops and take each layer of walls as they fall.  Continue the bombardment night and day until we reach the inner city, then send in the Janissaries to finish this business for good.”

True to Valnor’s prediction, progress after the first ring of walls fell was much slower.  The key factor slowing things down was the weapon’s propensity to overheat from excessive use.  The gunner crews learned early on that loading the cannon too soon after firing left it hot enough to ignite the black powder
on its own with disastrous effect.  Dozens of crewmen had lost their lives to premature explosions, but the bombardment pressed on.

Eventually
, after a month of constant assault from the massive cannon, everything was set for the final push.  The navy had drawn thousands of defenders away to the sea walls, and the cannon was bracketed in for one last explosive shell that would unleash the elite Janissary infantry unimpeded into the city.

Before ordering the final shot
, Valnor experienced a disheartening moment of introspection.  Constantinople was the last echo of prosperity remaining from the Roman Era.  The Empire’s capital city was relocated to Constantinople not long after the fall of Rome.  In his previous existence as Augustus Caesar he almost singlehandedly forced the great empire to be a guiding light for the developing world to follow.  Now here he was fifteen hundred years later giving the order that would bring down his creation once and for all.  He lamented the loss, but as Captain Hastelloy would boldly declare, it was for the greater good.

“Fire,” Valnor ordered and through the darkness of midnight he saw the distant explosion level what was left of the city’s last line of defense.  A minute later he heard a collective battle cry rise up from the eager Janissaries and bloody tyranny was unleashed upon the last great Roman city.

Valnor followed the flow of Ottoman soldiers into the city as the defending troops retreated towards the harbor.  This left Constantine and his loyal guards to their own devices.  To his credit, the emperor and his men managed to hold off the Janissaries through the night until morning, but eventually the weight of numbers won out. 

In his final moments
, Constantine threw aside his purple regalia and led the final charge against the incoming Ottomans, dying in the ensuing battle among the streets along with his soldiers.  The man may have lacked the vision to use Valnor’s cannon design for his own benefit, but in the end he was indeed quite brave.

After the initial assault, Sultan
Mehmed’s soldiers fanned out along the main thoroughfare of the city.  He had the forethought to send an advance guard to protect key buildings as he did not wish to establish his new capital in a thoroughly devastated city.

The a
rmy converged upon the
Augusteum
,
a vast square that fronted the great church of Hagia Sophia.  The bronze gates were barred by desperate civilians seeking divine protection inside the building, but none would come. The doors were breached in short order and the troops separated the congregation according to what price they might bring in the slave markets.  Such was the scene around the great city as Sultan Mehmed allowed his men to plunder the rich metropolis for three days after the fighting ceased.

Valnor had no interest in
the financial treasures found in the posh districts of the city.  Instead, he made his way to the university to see if the scholars were more inclined to share their knowledge with the world at large now that their safe haven was no more.

Cora felt the
presence of Kublai Khan along with four Alpha warriors approaching her revered location on top of the temple mount inside the palace.  These last few months had been the most frustrating of her existence and she was anxious to get an update on the situation.

With the assistance of some advanced weapons,
Kublai Khan’s army was able to conquer the entire eastern continent and consolidate power in the span of a few years.  How could the masterful plan progress so well for so long only to fall apart in the span of a few weeks?  

It all started when the lev
ees broke along the Yellow River.  The retention basins behind the levees designed to feed crops gradually throughout the dry season emptied in a matter of hours flooding every farm within twenty miles of the river’s winding path.  The entire harvest was washed away along with millions of farmers who worked the land and most of the grain storage silos.  The coup de grace came a few days later when all the water finished draining into the sea leaving nothing with which to replant.

Without
agricultural production, the economy ground to a disastrous halt.  There was no food or water to maintain the men and cavalry so Kublai Khan’s armies melted away until only the most loyal remained, leaving his once firm grip on power tenuous at best.

Rebellious ideas
instantly took hold of the peasant population and the soldiers that had deserted joined their ranks.  Emboldened by their numbers and the desperation of their situation, the peasant army now converged on the royal palace to oust the man they all felt angered the gods to bring these hardships upon them.

Cora could tell immediately
that Kublai Khan was seething, and the fact that he did not even bother kneeling before the altar proved it.  “I am besieged and need your help.  The peasants have broken through the outer walls, overrun the remnants of my cavalry and now ready siege equipment to topple these walls.”

“Report,” Cora demanded of her soldiers, completely bypassing the insignificant individual barking complaints her direction.

“The situation has grown desperate.  If you intend to leave, we need to go soon or not at all.”

“L
...leave?” Kublai Khan stammered.  “What do you mean leave?  You instructed me to build this palace for your protection...”

“No,” Cora interrupted,
“I instructed you to build a fortress.  You were the one who turned it into this eccentric monstrosity that has drawn the hatred and ire of the common man who suffers crippling poverty in the shadow of your opulence.”

“What do we do now?”
  Kublai Khan asked while the four Alpha warriors lifted the cover off the stone altar and removed Cora’s shimmering relic.  The emperor immediately dropped to his knees and bowed at the reminder that he was addressing his god.

If Cora had eyes she would have rolled them at the pathetic display.  To a small degree
, she actually respected the man while he tried to stand his ground, but now with his face buried in the dirt he just looked impotent. 

“
You will take what forces you have left and retreat toward Lake Poyang to the southwest.  The freshwater lake there was unaffected by the flooding and you can once again feed your men and horses,” Cora instructed.  How this whelp managed to lead anyone was beyond her comprehension she thought as her four guards placed her relic inside a wooden carrying case and headed for a hidden tunnel that would take them beyond the palace outer walls.

“If I were you I’d hurry,” Cora snapped which sent the little man scampering down the hillside leaving her alone with her men.

“Have the others remain with him to facilitate his escape.  He may be an incompetent weakling, but we still need his armies to keep the Novi occupied and distracted from our real objective.  Then you four can take me to Xi’an to help Kuanti with his work.”  Considering the Kublai Khan business handled, Cora mentally opened up to the other relics on the planet.

“Getting a little harsh in your old age?” Goron mocked.  “The soft cuddly Cora I knew back on the ship would have bent over backwards to nurture that weakling along.”

The intensity of rage Cora took from that insult could have incinerated her carrying case.  “When did I ever show that kind of weakness?”

“Your continued devotion to Kuanti back on the ship and in the afterlife is all the evidence I need to know you have a soft spot for weak things.  Isn’t that right
, Kuanti?  Kuanti?”

Cora felt
Kuanti’s existence, but her former mate was completely closed off from her and Goron.  Even the intense insult could not bring his attention away from his current project.

**********

Hastelloy observed a soft rustling of foliage near the tunnel exit that coincided with a faint vibration from the tiny handheld device he carried.  Hastelloy looked at the three inch square display and observed four of the ten tracking barbs he placed on the concealing vines were on the move, presumably clinging to the clothing or fur of the four Alphas. 

It took
Hastelloy and Gallono weeks of meticulous searching to finally discover the back door exit from the royal palace that they both knew existed.  Dealing with Goron and his minions over the millennia taught him that there was always an emergency escape route when a relic was involved.

The covert tunnel was
hidden among the vine covered walls of a nearby cemetery crypt.  Though well disguised, the raised landscape and direct line to the royal palace gave it away.

“Wow,
would you look at them go,” Gallono marveled upon seeing the land speed of the tracking device exceed forty miles per hour.  “We never could have kept up with that, even on horseback.

“You can outrun me, but not a
tracking transmitter’s radio signal,” Hastelloy said quietly.  “Now let’s help Zhu and his rebels finish this siege; then we can move on to follow them now that we know where they are headed.”