1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 152 The prosperity comes to an end
On the southern coast of the Mediterranean Sea, the capital of the Hafsid dynasty, Tunis.

It was late at night, a full moon hung in the sky, illuminating the earth brightly, and the brilliant river of stars flowed in the vast universe, giving people endless reverie.

Yahya, fully armed, walked along the ruined walls of Tunis with his personal soldiers and Sunni religious personnel.

More than a month had passed since Tunis was besieged, but somehow, the Christians outside the city did not cut off the communication between Tunis and the outside world, allowing bad news to flow into the city one after another, undermining the morale of the defenders.

The Southern Frontier Region was established, Sultan Djerid died and his country was destroyed, and Sultan Togurt and Emir Mzab surrendered.

The cities of Sfax and Sousse fell one after another, Kairouan was besieged, and the control of the Hafsid dynasty was reduced to a corner of Tunisia.

Then, the Grand Mufti, who was desperate, appointed Ebni as Caliph in front of everyone. At this point, in a sense, the Hafsid family's rule over Tunis had come to an end.

The Zayanid dynasty's disruption made Yahya's diplomatic situation even worse. The reinforcements that the soldiers and civilians in the city had been waiting for for a long time came to nothing. They really became isolated and had to fight against a huge number of enemy troops alone.

As a result, the defenders' confidence plummeted and the city was filled with a gloomy atmosphere.

The strong Yahya was unwilling to sink with them, so he filled his schedule. Every day he either negotiated with various forces in the city or went to the city wall to boost morale.

He opened the treasury and spent all his wealth, used high positions and generous salaries to win over the soldiers, and united them with religious sentiments, which was quite effective in the early stages of the war.

As the enemy's offensive became more and more fierce, the ancient city walls became as fragile as thin paper in the face of new weapons of war, and many gaps appeared. Under the intimidation of Christians, the vassal troops under the city launched wave after wave of charges towards the gaps regardless of casualties. The city of Tunis was crumbling in the storm.

Yahya had no way to deal with this. Whenever a gap appeared, he could only arrange for the reserve troops to fight to the death to buy time for the civilians in the rear to fill the city wall.

The surge in casualties was like a heavy mountain weighing on every soldier's heart. No one knew whether they could survive the next enemy charge as they had before.

In the face of life and death, official positions and titles pale into insignificance, gold and silver become worthless, and the courage inspired by religious sentiments cannot last long and is gradually worn out in repeated life-and-death situations.

The situation deteriorated day by day, and rumors began to spread in the city. Some people began to question the legitimacy of Yahya's rule. Some claimed that the Crusades were God's punishment on the Hafs family. Some said that Emperor Isaac did not want to kill more people, and as long as they were willing to lay down their arms, they could save their lives...

As usual, Yahya walked on the ruined city wall, asked the soldiers who had been fighting all day about their well-being, promised them victory, and threw handfuls of gold coins into the crowd.

At the beginning of the war, wherever he went, there was cheering. The soldiers shouted "Long live Allahu akbar" and "Allahu Akbar", pushing and shoving, vying to express their hearts in front of the generous and sincere Caliph. Yahya would not rely on his status to chat and laugh with the soldiers and become one with them.

But now, there was whispering everywhere. When Yahya approached, the soldiers suddenly stopped and looked at him with suspicion in their eyes.

Yahya still forced a smile and patted the blood-stained shoulders of a young militiaman affectionately. He took off his robe and put it on him, but the other turned his head to the side and stood stiffly like a clay statue.

"Your Majesty, we have something to ask you."

More and more soldiers gathered on the city wall and surrounded them. Yahya's heart skipped a beat and he thought to himself that something was wrong.

"My warrior, please speak frankly. I will do my best—"

“I heard that the Grand Mufti has stripped you of your ruling power and handed it over to His Excellency Ebenee. Is this true?”

Yahya's smile froze on his face and he didn't know how to answer.

In order to avoid chaos, Yahya gave an official explanation as early as the beginning of the incident, believing that the Grand Mufti was persecuted by the traitor Ebeni ​​and the decree he issued was no longer effective.

Of course, the grassroots military and civilians had already guessed most of the truth of the matter through gossip, and this public outburst was just a concentrated outbreak of contradictions.

Seeing that Yahya did not answer, the leading soldier continued to ask questions.

"It is said that just three days ago, the Zayanid army plundered the city of Annaba, moved the city's population and wealth to the west, and built city defenses around Bejaia in order to hold on. Is this news true?"

Yahya remained silent.

This is of course true. Not long ago, a detachment of Christians bypassed the city of Tunis and continued westward along the coast. Upon seeing this, the Oghuz Emir of the Zayanid Dynasty immediately sent troops to rob the Annaba area and then withdrew his troops, leaving the empty city to the Christian army that arrived later.

"Your Majesty Yahya, we have fought desperately for you until today. We have lived up to our ancestors and Allah. Fighting further will not help and will only cause more damage."

"We believe that you should carefully consider the peace conditions proposed by Emperor Isaac."

bass!
Behind Yahya, the soldiers of his army drew their swords and glared at their comrades in front of them.

Swoosh, swoosh!
More swords were unsheatheculated, more and more angry soldiers gathered, and a mutiny was about to break out.

Yahya's straight body hunched over, as if he had aged ten years. He waved his hands weakly behind him, signaling the soldiers of his own army not to act rashly.

The Greek emperor's peace terms were simple: hand over the city of Tunis and recognize the rule of the puppet caliph Makusum.

In return, the lives of the military and civilians in the city, except for the diehards, will be guaranteed. If they do not want to stay, they can leave after paying some property.

As to the fate of Yahya, the Emperor's messenger said nothing.

"I will keep in mind what you said. Please stay here tonight and let me think about it."

"It's all gone."

After hesitating for a moment, both sides withdrew their weapons. The tense situation was temporarily resolved, but the uneasiness in the air became even stronger.

"Your Majesty, I will escort you back to the palace."

Beside Yahya, Tevido, a fully armed confidant, spoke softly, stepped forward and stood in front of the Caliph.

After the Battle of Tripoli, Yahya's core military forces were almost completely lost, and the new army that he had built with great effort had only less than a thousand people escape. Now most of the defenders in the city are private soldiers of local tyrants and temporarily recruited militias. The latter have low combat effectiveness and the former are of questionable loyalty.

The ones who just launched the attack were the private soldiers of the local tyrants. It was obvious that these vested interests had exhausted their patience in the long war and were not prepared to continue to fight with Yahya in this war that was impossible to win.

The dazed Yahya was sandwiched between his personal guards and sent back to the palace. He took off his heavy armor and sat alone on the cold throne, facing the deserted court.

He called out to the maids and eunuchs, but no one answered.

He smiled bitterly, picked up the candlesticks, went to the basement to get a few bottles of light wine, and sat back on his lonely throne.

He drank by himself and soon became tipsy.

Looking back to the past, he followed his grandfather and watched him bring the broken dynasty back on track step by step, watched him fight wars in the east and west, and watched him fall on the way to the expedition.

Looking back to the past, he ascended the throne at a young age, quickly pacified the chaos in the capital, absorbed refugees, encouraged agriculture and sericulture, and vigorously developed commerce, so that Tunisia quickly got rid of chaos and restored prosperity.

At that time, he seemed to have endless energy, and his youthful spirit seemed to be able to pierce the sky.

But today, just over a decade later, the situation has collapsed to this point, and he, with half white hair, can only sit alone in the secluded palace, trapped in the isolated city.

What lay before him seemed to be a road of no return.

Surrender? Putting aside the question of dignity, Emperor Isaac outside the city had the absolute initiative. Having lost his soldiers and civilians, he could only become a prey to the enemy.

Escape? The major forces in the city had probably been eyeing the palace for a long time, ready to use his head in exchange for the favor of the new ruler.

"Your Majesty, the spies reported that several slave traders in the city seem to have contact with the Greek emperor and are in contact with him through the Secret Port. They may be behind today's mutiny. You must be on guard..."

Footsteps were heard, and the loyal Tevildo, wearing armor and holding a knife, hurried over to report.

Yahya seemed not to have heard it, his head half tilted back with a blank look in his eyes.

"His Majesty?"

"Tevildo, how many of us do we have?"

"There are seven hundred new soldiers and one hundred guards. They have all received your great kindness and are absolutely loyal to you."

Yahya nodded and looked towards Tevildo.

"There is something I would like you to do."

"Your command."

"Before the siege, I sent my two daughters and my infant son out of the city. They should have arrived at Corfu, the territory of the Venetians." "Now go to the treasury and take as much money, books, and jewelry as you can. Before the Christians enter the city, use your own connections to leave the city and find my children."

"Please take my son to the Ottoman Empire to settle down, change his name, raise him up, and let him live the life of a rich man."

Yahya stared at Tevido, a hint of pleading in his red eyes.

"As you command, but Your Majesty, you..."

Tevildo seemed to understand something and could not move.

"Before you head to the treasury, I have one last order."

"After you have done all this, you will no longer be my slave. You are free."

Yahya smiled and handed him the key to the treasury and Tevildo's slave contract, then waited quietly for his reply.

"You say."

Yahya looked up at the hazy sky, squinted his eyes, and waited for dawn.

"Put on my armor."

……

The red sun rises, and the first beam of light at dawn shines across the world, illuminating the hideous cannon muzzles, dilapidated city walls and bleak streets.

The desolate horn sounded again, the siege camp became busy, and the army went out.

Isaac sat upright on his horse, the silver armor on his chest reflected the rising sun, and the double-headed eagle emblem on the armor spread its wings and flew in the sunlight.

The bodyguard tied a purple cloak around his shoulders, knelt on both knees, and presented him with the eagle staff, which symbolized the highest power of the Roman Empire.

Isaac took the scepter, feeling its cool texture, and swung it forward.

"Long live!"

The soldiers shouted, their voices echoing through heaven and earth.

The army marched forward, ready to deal the final blow to the city of Tunis.

Under Isaac's arrangement, the Hafsid dynasty was at an absolute strategic disadvantage before the war began and had almost no chance of winning.

Despite this, they fought bravely, repeatedly driving the Old Guards sent by Isaac off the city walls, and holding the city for more than 50 days under high-intensity attacks.

By now, they are almost exhausted. The city is undercurrent and people are in panic. One final blow will be enough to cause it to collapse.

As usual, Isaac sent messengers to persuade the city to surrender, but the city was completely silent.

"Prepare to fire—"

Isaac frowned and raised his right hand, ready to swing down.

"Your Majesty, look!"

The main gate of Tunis city suddenly opened. Amid the sound of trumpets, a group of cavalrymen stepped onto the land mixed with blood and mud, filed out of the city gate and formed a battle formation under the city wall.

The leader was wearing golden armor, holding a sword in his left hand and holding high the flag of the Hafs family in his right hand.

"Please invite Emperor Isaac to come forward and have a talk!"

Yahya rode forward, shouting loudly, raising a cloud of dust.

There was a flash of surprise in Isaac's eyes, and then he spurred his horse forward, separating himself from Yahya to the north and south, separated by a trench.

"Is this the first time we meet?"

Yahya seemed in high spirits.

"But come and surrender?"

Isaac was straightforward.

"Your territory has been divided up, your subjects have pledged allegiance to me, and your family has been scattered."

"Surrender now, and I will ensure your safe departure."

Yahya smiled contemptuously.

"Did your father ever think of surrendering when facing the threat of the Ottoman army?"

"Never."

"My ancestors rose from the troubled times, swept across the world, defeated the army of the Marin Dynasty, and buried the menacing King Louis of France."

Yahya's pale face flushed and he held his head high.

"You have your faith, and I have my glory."

"If Allah is destined to take my life today, then let Him do it."

Yahya planted the big flag into the ground, and the yellow star-and-crescent flag fluttered in the whistling wind.

"I fled from Misrata, I fled from Tripoli, no matter how many reasons I had, it would bring shame to my family."

"Today, I won't run away again."

"Today, where the king's flag stands is where I will be buried. I will fight to the death!"

"Fight to the death and never retreat!"

Behind Yahya, eight hundred cavalrymen slowly stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with the caliph to whom they swore allegiance.

"I sent people to contact several of your important officials and asked them to take control of the situation in the city to prevent you from setting fire to the city."

Isaac spoke slowly.

"It seems that I underestimated you."

"In that case, let me help you."

Isaac raised his hand, and the army, which was ready for battle, formed a semi-encirclement, blocking all of Yahya's retreat routes.

"charge!"

Eight hundred cavalrymen shouted ancient slogans and launched a final charge against an enemy that outnumbered them several times.

Isaac vaguely saw the king in golden armor and the yellow flag flashing for a moment in the waves of the army, and then they were completely obliterated and disappeared in the dust.

On July 1456, 7, Yahya, the last caliph of the Hafsid dynasty, was trapped in an isolated city and could not control the situation in the city. He chose the most tragic way to die, falling on the battlefield in pursuit of glory.

On that day, the city gates were opened and the remaining defenders surrendered. Isaac led his army into Tunis. He kept his original promise and did not harm the soldiers and civilians in the city. He took out money and slaves from his own treasury to reward the three armies. He ordered people to collect Yahya's body and bury it where the royal flag stood.

Since then, the Hafsid Dynasty, which lasted for more than 200 years, was declared extinct. After more than 800 years, the city of Tunis returned to the hands of the Roman Empire again, and the double-headed eagle flag fluttered over this land.

In accordance with ancient Roman tradition, Isaac renamed the vast land between Tunis and Tripoli Africa, and Tunis also restored its ancient name.

Carthage.

(End of this chapter)