1453: Revival of Byzantium

Chapter 393: One More Patriot Gone

With the max of his might, Mauro swung the war hammer hard and slashed it on to the Ottoman rider's back head just as their mounts crossed each other. Although Mauro's mount did not give him any time to check on his strike due to his poor riding skills, he can still be sure that the hammer strike just now did its trick. Indeed, his assumption is right, the war hammer, despite being small, still sent a shock wave through Emir Bey's metal helmet, leaving a huge dent on the iron surface. 

Emir Bey is not as rich as Constantine to afford another layer of cushion inside his helmet, his skull became the one that received all of the shock wave sent by the hammer head, and instantly his eyes blacked out unable to feel or touch any thing, his skull have been completed shattered to pieces inside his head from the impact with now multiple fractured bone pieces getting stuck in to the depth of his head, his eye sockets bulged out and slowly his body is unable to maintain that balance on a horse back like what it used to be, and finally after a prolonged fight the fifty plus years old bey, who have went through almost the entire history of the Sultanate from the start of the century, seeing it going back to the peak after a brief decade of chaos, and then going back to down fall again at the very end of his life, Emir Bey lived a very meaningful life. 

The Ottoman cavalries are utterly shocked and speechless when they saw their commander's demise. Some decided to retreat for a better revenge tomorrow, some decided that they have a higher purpose in life to continue living and ran, while the most bite their teeth hard and continued to persevere, trying their best to fulfill their old bey's last wishes hunting the emperor of the Rumelians down. There are only one hundred meters between them, but it seemed like the furthest hundred meters as there are countless enemies standing in front of them vowing to protect their basileus at all costs. 

The arrival of Mauro's heavy infantries broke all remaining wonders of the Ottoman cavalries, the Latin mercenaries covered the surge of Ottoman cavalries from the two flanks forming a 'v' shape, with some of them holding a scythe, or sickle like weapon and some others holding pouches of caltrops. Pretty obvious that these men are professional in the craft of hunting down mounted troops, they laid a layer of booby traps at the ten meters mark on the way where the cavalries shall pass, and started waiting for the already decelerated enemies to bump in to their pouch. 

Their enemies did not disappoint them, not knowing whether it is because their past invincibility against the conscript spear men that gave them the complacency, or is it the dread and depression left to them by their dead commander that gave them the will and energy to continue chasing, the Ottoman cavalries galloped in to the pocket trap in no time. And it is no doubt that the hooves of their horses, unlike their riders, are covered with completely no armour and these poor creatures fall easy pray to the mercenaries' tactic of taking down the horses first before the riders. 

One after another Ottoman cavalry fell to their inability to react fast enough when approaching these traps, with their hooves either getting poked and stabbed by the caltrops, or their horse's legs getting sliced by the blades making them come tumbling down one after another. With their endings getting pretty clear the moment they fall from their mounts, it is either that they succumb to the fall, or getting slaughtered defenselessly by the surrounding mercenaries. A rider that fell from his horse becomes as vulnerable as a baby, even if he is covered in a full set of plate armour. 

The remaining Ottoman cavalries managed to halt their mounts in time, facing the real threat of death and destruction, many of these noble cavalries started arguing that they have already tried hard enough, what the number of enemies they have already slain ought to be already enough to replenish the soul of their beloved commander and ease his rage. The Latin mercenaries remained motionless, patiently waiting for the Ottoman riders to make their decision; It is either they all agree to flee and escape in time, or the other reinforcements close the pocket and confine all of them inside, as a professional anti riders contingent they know that a bunch of infantries with out a proper formation and weaponry is no match to these riders. 

It did not take long for the cavalries to make up their minds, most decided that it is now way too young to end their noble lives over here wasting time and life for a target that are no longer possible to get, and what they have done is already enough for their beloved bey at the end of the day, no one really wanted to die over here. Only a handful remained, each with some reasons either being extremely hateful towards these Rumelians or extremely loyal to their past commander. With only the eight of them, they led a final charge, and of course, they joined they commander Emir Bey on the road towards the heaven. With their company, perhaps the elder bey would not be so lonely on the long way. 

Mean while after countless tries, Mauro finally managed to leap off his horse and tumbled on the mud, then almost crawled and ran at the same time back to the emperor, who is already laid down to rest by the teenage soldier on a stone he found among the piles of bodies. 

"How are you feeling, how are you feeling, emperor? Can you answer my question?" The Italian commander spitted out a chain of questions as he gave Constantine another round of full body inspection with the amount of medical knowledge he accumulated after years of service. The emperor seemed like that he did not have the energy to answer his general's question, instead he just sat there with a pale face and purple shivering lips. 

Mauro quickly removed the set of armour that has already been stuck on to the skin and inner wears of Constantine by perspiration, removed the helmet and together with the inner silk linen, then did he discover that the culf is already tainted with dark coloured blood, the entire thing has been stuck so tight to the scalp that it made Mauro almost impossible to take it out with out some tearing actions, but that too would cause a great and unforeseeable damage to the emperor and Mauro cannot take the risk. 

"Mauro Mauro!" The sturdy hands of the Latin commander successfully woke the emperor up through the use of pain being directly exerted on to his head. Constantine held the hands of Mauro, hard, not knowing where he got the strength from, and gave Mauro a weak toned but determined piece of order. "I here by give you the full right to do what ever you want to do with this army, and I vow to the Father, the Sun and the Holy Ghost that I shall not interfere with your command for any longer Now, please, I beg you, on behalf of all Romans, bring Bring us out of this damned place, do not waste time on me"

Saying these last few words drained all the energy away from Constantine, making him go back to the state of deep sleep. Mauro held the tears of anxiety back in to his eye sockets, ordered the equally as touched teenage soldier to place the emperor on to a cargo cart pulled by the strongest oxen around, and lay the cart with grass. Then he ran back to his central unit and took back the ownership of his command from the vice commander and started executing the last part of his plan to break through this weakening ambush through the sides. 

The mechanics of this plan is fairly simple, it is pretty clear now that the Ottomans have lost their abilities to launch another round of attack with the element of surprise getting wasted through their own poor planning and inefficiency, their only force that is capable of doing a break through has retreated and is highly unlikely that they can be re organised again to lay another offensive due to the complete destruction of their command central. Thus, since the offensive capabilities of the Ottomans has been laid down to a bare minimum, it is now the time for Mauro to perform his art of offensive through the use of infantries, and show it to the Ottomans on how can men on foot duplicate the roles of riders on hooves.

It has only been four hours to the start of the battle, and the horns for a counter attack for the Romans has already been blown, with the sun already at the other side of the horizon.