1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 107 Shuangzhu Port Meeting

That night, soldiers and citizens throughout Constantinople saw the flames of Galata. Under the red light of the sky, human beings seemed extremely small.

Dozens of ships came and went on the Golden Horn, transporting residents of the southern district of Galata to Constantinople on the other side for temporary resettlement.

It happened very suddenly. When the teams knocked on the doors of residents and told them to pack up and leave, most of the people of Galata were still enjoying dinner.

The soldiers gave a tight time frame: they had to evacuate the southern area and board a cruise ship to Constantinople before the sun set.

The women and children looked at each other in panic, and the men stood up angrily and tried to argue with the soldiers.

However, the soldiers didn't seem to care about their thoughts at all. After delivering the message, they left.

The moment the sun set, the flames in the southern city area arrived as expected, completely shattering their fantasies.

The emperor promised the more than a thousand Orthodox Christians evacuated from Galata that he would allocate an area in Constantinople for them to temporarily reside until the end of the war.

In this way, the refugees from Galata entered Constantinople from the sea wall north of Constantinople, and spread the news of the Battle of Galata to every corner of Constantinople, which soon caused an uproar.

That night, the soldiers and civilians of Constantinople could not sleep all night. They walked out of their rooms, stood on the streets, staring blankly at the burning city in the distance, hoping that their emperor would return victoriously.

The citizens of Constantinople had always disliked the Orthodox Christians in the north who succumbed to the Genoese, even though they were considered their compatriots.

The fire finally died down at dawn. Most of the Galata city was destroyed. Charred bodies could be seen everywhere in the city. Some of them belonged to residents who did not have time to evacuate, and most of them were soldiers of the Ottoman Empire.

The fire, driven by the wind, burned from the southwest to the northeast. The northwest and southeast corners were occupied by Isaac in advance. Most of the Ottoman troops had nowhere to go and could only crowd at the north gate, trying desperately to escape from this hell on earth.

However, the chaotic situation at the North Gate caused a greater disaster. In the face of life, military discipline, friendship, and law no longer existed. Ottoman soldiers squeezed and trampled on each other, and even drew their swords against each other, resulting in countless casualties.

In the end, only a small number of Ottoman soldiers stationed near the north gate managed to escape, while most of the others died in the fire.

At this point, the Battle of Galata ended. The war ended with a complete victory for the Eastern Roman Empire. A total of more than 8,000 Ottomans were killed, of whom nearly 7,000 were directly killed in the fire, and more than 1,000 surrendered to Isaac in despair.

Unfortunately, Isaac failed to capture Zagan Pasha. This experienced and wise general rushed to the west gate, but seeing that Isaac was well prepared, he turned his horse around and returned along the same route under the desperate escort of his private army. He ran along the edge of the fire to the port area in the east, grabbed a small boat, and fled back to the Ottoman naval base, the Two Pillars Harbor.

His private army was composed entirely of cavalry, and Isaac's infantry corps could not catch up.

The next morning, some of the relatively well-preserved bodies of the Ottoman soldiers were hung on the walls of Constantinople as a warning.

Under the brilliant light of the rising sun, Isaac led the victorious army and the dejected captives across the sparkling Golden Horn, and landed at the port of Prousfilion amid the cheers of the people of the city. He handed the reins of the captives and the Ottoman military flag to Constantine who was waiting there.

Constantine looked at the high-spirited young man, a trace of reminiscence flashed in his eyes, and he seemed to think of his glorious years in the Peloponnese.

Back then, I was just like him, holding high the flag of the double-headed eagle and attacking all those who disobeyed me, even ignoring Venice, which dominated the eastern Mediterranean.

His son was even more powerful than himself. The remaining 800 soldiers crossed the Golden Horn and burned tens of thousands of Ottoman troops to death in Galata city.

Just last night, Constantine XI stood on the city wall, staring blankly at the burning red sky in the north, unable to utter a word.

He knew that his son sometimes displayed a madness far beyond that of ordinary people, but the source of this madness was extreme rationality.

Before deciding on something, Isaac would first weigh the pros and cons in his mind. If the benefits were great enough, great enough to ignore the backlash, he would push things forward step by step at all costs until he achieved ultimate success.

To him, religion, fame, and public opinion are nothing more than weights on the scale.

At least, if it were Constantine himself, he would never have issued such a cruel order to burn down most of the city of Galata.

Perhaps, compared to himself, an unscrupulous emperor like Isaac is what the empire on its last legs urgently needs.

Constantine remained expressionless as he took the spoils of victory and returned them to Isaac under the burning gazes of the citizens.

It's like a kind of inheritance.

……

The southwest corner of the Bosphorus Strait, Shuangzhu Port.

This is the base of the Ottoman fleet, located just north of Constantinople and Galata, and guarding the throat of the Bosphorus.

A month ago, the Ottoman fleet gathered in Gallipoli port, with masts like clouds, flags covering the sky, and sailors singing war songs as they headed north to Constantinople.

They walked around the city, looked at the frightened and worried faces of the residents, and laughed loudly at their cowardice and incompetence.

In the eyes of all Ottomans, the Greek emperor of Constantinople and his soldiers were complete cowards. They did not dare to engage in a head-on battle with the brave Ottoman warriors and could only survive by relying on the solid city walls left by their ancestors.

However, the Ottomans had to admit that the walls of Constantinople were indeed strong and the iron chains of the Golden Horn could indeed keep their ships out, leaving them helpless.

Just a day ago, the naval commander Bartoglou summoned the ships patrolling the sea to support Zagan Pasha in capturing the city of Galata, so as to break through the Golden Horn in one fell swoop and turn the fleet into a sharp knife, piercing the fragile hinterland of Constantinople.

However, just as they had gathered and were waiting for dawn, a fire broke out in Galata City, which completely burned away all the enthusiasm in the sailors' hearts.

Then, they saw Zagan Pasha and hundreds of remaining soldiers running in a panic, which completely confirmed their suspicion of a great defeat.

This defeat dealt a huge blow to morale. An army of more than 10,000 people was almost wiped out. For a time, the peace faction that had been suppressed for a long time began to clamor again.

"Your Majesty, Zagan Pasha disobeyed military orders, destroyed the army, and fled alone. This is unforgivable. Please punish him to thank the souls of the dead soldiers!"

"The march to Galata was a unanimous decision of all the adults. It was an order from His Majesty the Sultan. Do you really question His Majesty?"

In the conference room of Shuangzhu Port, Muhammad II sat on the throne with his eyes closed, as if the quarrel of the people had nothing to do with him.

"Your Majesty, this is my fault. Please punish me severely."

In the center of the hall, Zagan Pasha was kneeling on the ground, half of his eyebrow was burned off, and there were still traces of smoke and fire on his face. He looked very embarrassed.

His head was lowered so low that it almost touched the ground, and the horsetail flag that symbolized the Pasha's majesty was thrown aside, covered in dust.

"After the war, I will hand over three years' income from my territory, which is five hundred slaves."

"Go and get twenty lashes."

Mehmed II opened his eyes and lightly delivered his punishment.

In fact, the plan to attack Galata was proposed by Muhammad.

As early as when the Gattilucio family came to the position of mayor of Galata, Mehmed II was keenly aware of his opponents' intentions and quickly took countermeasures by privately contacting local nobles.

During this war, he sent Zagan Pasha to use both soft and hard tactics, which finally caused civil unrest in Galata, allowing him to take advantage of the chaos to capture the city.

In Mehmed II's plan, Galata was a bait that the Eastern Roman defenders had to bite.

If they sent troops to rescue Galata, Zagan Pasha could seize the opportunity to annihilate them with superior forces, thereby weakening the defensive power of the city walls and indirectly avoiding the bloody battle of the Theodosian Walls.

If they watched the fall of Galata, not only would their morale suffer a severe blow, but the Golden Horn would be completely exposed to the attack of the Ottoman fleet. The originally safe sea wall would become a battlefield, and their already small number of troops would be further dispersed.

This was a brilliant stratagem in every sense of the word, and one that was almost impossible to solve.

But who would have thought that the opponent did not play according to the routine, and when he saw that the endgame was difficult to solve, he simply kicked the chessboard away.

No matter what, failure is failure, and no matter how many reasons and grievances you have, they will be useless.

If the war is lost, someone must take responsibility.

Zagan Pasha obviously realized this and took the initiative to accept the punishment, taking all the responsibility on himself to protect his master's reputation. "Go on."

Mehmed II looked at his ministers and closed his eyes again.

Zagan Pasha was stripped of his clothes by the guards and beaten on the spot.

The whip had obviously been specially processed and had barbs. Every whip could bring out a trace of blood and flesh on Zagan Pasha's back. Soon, the hall was filled with the smell of blood.

After the twenty lashes, the imperial physician hurried forward and ordered the guards to send the unconscious Zagan Pasha back to his room to treat his injuries.

After what had happened, the ministers were no longer in the mood to argue further.

"Your Majesty, in my opinion, the fighting power of the Christian army is quite impressive, and it has caused considerable casualties to our Muslim warriors. It may be disadvantageous to continue to drag it out."

"The Christians also suffered heavy losses during the siege. We can take this opportunity to negotiate peace with the Christians and demand a suitable ransom."

"This way, both sides can end the war in a dignified manner, and you won't have to worry about military threats from Western European countries if the war drags on."

Ottoman Grand Vizier Khalil Pasha spoke slowly, looking at the closed eyes of Mehmed II.

Mehmed II nodded without commenting.

"I think what Grand Vizier said is unreasonable."

A young voice came from the corner, and Mehmed II opened his eyes and sat up straight.

"Oh? Mahmoud, what do you think?"

"I think the fighting power of the Christians is far beyond our expectations. Constantine, who guards the middle section of the city wall, is experienced and good at soothing people. His son Isaac is even more cunning and changeable. They are both strong opponents and have caused us a lot of trouble."

"However, we must realize that the other side may be able to make some tactical progress with a temporary advantage, but they are already completely at a disadvantage strategically and there is almost no hope of a comeback."

"I have studied the composition of the garrison in Constantinople. The most powerful legions all came from the Bairgai region occupied by Isaac. Their families and wealth are all there."

"In short, Constantinople is no longer their spiritual home, but Cyrenaica is."

"Both the Mamluks and the Hafs are fighting against Cyrenaica. I don't know the specific situation of the war for now, but this does not prevent us from spreading rumors."

"We can spread the news of Bilinchi's fall and disrupt the enemy's morale."

"Then how do you ensure that they won't receive any information from the outside world? You know, once this kind of lie is exposed once, it will be difficult to continue."

Next to the hall, a peace-loving Bey began to question.

“This involves a very important issue.”

Mahmoud turned to Mehmed II and, seeing that he was listening attentively, continued.

"I suggest that we abandon the plan to enter the Golden Horn. On the contrary, we can lock the Christian fleet in the Golden Horn and prevent them from receiving news from the outside world."

"Their fleet is very mixed. Genoa, Venice, Cyprus, the interests of these parties are not completely consistent with Constantinople. We can seize this point to make a fuss."

"It sounds good, but how do you write an article?"

Khalil Pasha snorted.

"drag!"

"As long as we continue to drag on in Constantinople, the enemy will inevitably become conflicted and collapse without any attack!"

Facing Khalil Pasha's questioning, young Mahmoud showed no fear and spoke loudly.

After Zagan Pasha left, he became the leader of the Devshirme faction and had to take on the responsibility of fighting against Khalil Pasha.

"How will you deal with the possible arrival of the Crusaders from Western Europe?"

“They will never succeed.”

"You are gambling with the safety of the empire!"

Khalil was furious, clearly furious at Mahmoud's plan.

"okay."

Mehmed II's words broke the tense atmosphere, and both sides looked away with their eyes lowered.

"Sheikh, what do you think?"

Mehmed II looked at the old man on the side, his tone unusually respectful.

Sheikh Aksom Saiddin is the highest-ranking religious leader in the military camp, responsible for inspiring jihadist sentiment and motivating the soldiers.

In addition, he has an extraordinary identity - the enlightenment teacher of Mehmed II.

He once pinned the naughty little Muhammad against the wall and gave him a good beating, which earned him his respect.

"Allah's warriors will surely take Constantinople. You decide the specific tactics."

"But, dear Sultan, I have to remind you that the soldiers at the bottom have begun to complain, and the sentiment of jihad has been hit."

“You have to consider this.”

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone understood that Aksum Saiddin was a staunch advocate of war, but was unwilling to drag it on any longer.

"Koltan, what do you think?"

“We will always support you, no matter what decision you make.”

Kortan was a representative of the Akh Brotherhood, a famous industrial and commercial organization that owned numerous properties and members throughout the Ottoman Empire and had incalculable wealth.

The Ah Brotherhood is a staunch supporter of the Ottoman family and has been providing assistance to them since the time of Osman I. The two sides have supported each other, gone through countless years together, and benefited greatly from the alliance.

It can be said that without the strong support of the Akh Brotherhood, the Ottoman Empire would not have been able to develop so rapidly; without the return of the Ottoman Empire, the Akh Brotherhood would not have been able to take root so quickly in Anatolia and the Balkans.

"very good."

Mehmed II nodded, stood up and looked at his ministers.

"We will continue to fight for the glory of Allah and the dream of Ottomans."

Seeing that Mehmed II had made the final decision, Khalil no longer insisted. He sighed, turned around and left. The other ministers also left one after another, preparing to return to the camp to prepare for the siege.

"Mahmood, stay a moment."

Weli Mahmoud looked at the slight pause of Khalil Pasha in front of him, chuckled in his heart, turned around, walked up to Mehmed II, and knelt on one knee.

"Your Majesty, please give me your instructions."

(End of this chapter)