Constantinopolis (12 page)

Fortunately, it appeared the Ottomans were not yet ready to attack. The ships came near the chain and then turned to the south and eventually circled around, sailing in an oval pattern back past Galata on their left and down the Bosporus where they were anchoring about five miles from the city. For now the Turks made no effort to menace the chain or the tiny Greek fleet standing off in the Horn.

Zophia kept her horse near Constantine’s, holding his hand and rubbing his arm supportively. Tears flowed down her face and she whispered comforting words to him, words of support and love falling deaf on his ears as he contemplated this terrible turn of events.

What could he do against this fleet? He had not considered an attack by sea as a threat at all, let alone a serious one. This fleet changed everything for the worse in an already desperate situation. Even with the sea chain, Constantinople had miles and miles exposed to the sea on the Marmara side. There were sea walls to defend the city, but they were not nearly as intricate or as strong as the land walls. These sea walls would certainly slow down any attack, but he would now have to keep soldiers posted along the perimeter of the entire city walls to defend against a sudden fleet attack. Additionally, the fleet would be able to stop any aid from reaching the city, unless a relief fleet was similarly sized. Constantine had counted on supplies and reinforcements coming from the sea. Without this relief, the city could not stand a prolonged siege.

Constantinople held all the water it would ever need in a huge system of underground cisterns, but the city also needed food, particularly livestock and grain. Constantine had counted on additional grain and fresh meat arriving from the Greek Islands and also hopefully from Italy. Without these fresh reserves, the city could only last a couple of months, and then only by carefully rationing the food supply. The morale of the people was critical during a siege, and now the people would be hungry as well as fearful.

The appearance of the Ottoman fleet also answered a final question for Constantine. The massing of troops to Edirne and the building of cannon was not for the purpose of an attack somewhere else. The Turks were coming to Constantinople. They were not coming to bargain for more tribute. The Sultan was coming to take the city once and for all. Feeling sick, Constantine gave his friends the best possible look of encouragement and slowly turned his horse away, heading toward the palace to consider the defense of the city. He had such hopes that Easter was a beginning, but instead it was clearly an end, an end to the hope that they would be left alone for another year. Instead they would face their fears once and for all. They would face the massive Ottoman military machine at land and sea, with only the walls to protect them.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 4, 1453

Constantine stood in a tower high above the city, one of the 96 towers along the inner wall of the massive land fortifications. Each tower stood sixty feet or more above the city, and was intended as an individual castle that would have to be attacked and defeated by any force that besieged them.

Constantine stared grimly out over the plains outside the city and watched the Ottomans slowly moving their forces into place. He was amazed. He had never seen so many men, and they moved with great organization to the sounds of drums and music. The Ottomans were legendary for their ability to move quickly and quietly, but today they announced their arrival with tremendous fanfare. They wanted to be seen.

There were tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands. He had Sphrantzes working on an accurate estimate from his spies within the Ottoman camp, but he would not know for hours, perhaps days, how many men he was facing. Giovanni stood next to him, carefully watching the disposition of the Turkish forces and the positions of the cannon that were being slowly dragged in to place and secured by their crews.

“There seem to be far more than we estimated, My Lord. I would estimate several hundred thousand.”

Several hundred thousand. The number was staggering. Constantine did not know such an army could even exist in the world. The greatest Christian army he was aware of was the Hungarian one under Hunyadi and he could muster perhaps 30,000 to 40,000 men in the field. How could anyone stand up to 200,000?

Then he remembered that the city had stood up to worse. The walls were the great equalizer, and as long as the walls held, the city would hold. If they held long enough, Mehmet’s men would grow frustrated and they would leave like every army before them had done.

The Turks had spread out over the past few days all along the city walls, and in the plains directly in front of Galata. The vast majority of the Ottoman forces seemed to be gathering on the crest of the two hills before the Charisius gate and the St. Romanus gate, and in the Lycus valley between them.

Constantine asked, “What of our own forces? How have you set up the defenses of the city?”

“My Lord, I have set up our main defenses along the land wall of course, and I have divided up responsibility among our various nationalities and leaders. You and I will field the main force of Greeks and my Genoans here in the Lycus Valley where we can defend the wall and both primary gates. To our left, there is a mixed force of Greeks and Italians defending the rest of the wall to the Sea of Marmara. To our right, the Venetian Bailey Minotto is defending your palace and the walls all the way to the Golden Horn. The Horn itself is defended by our fleet and also by Venetians and Genoans, and two shiploads of sailors from Crete. The Acropolis is defended by Isidore and 200 archers. The Marmara side of the sea walls are defended by Orhan and his Turkish retainers and then by some Greek Monks. As you know, our best armed and skilled fighters are here with us, including the large mobile reserve force I have created.”

As they surveyed the enemy dispositions, Sphrantzes joined them.

“Sphrantzes, have you come to enjoy the view?”

“Not quite, my Lord. I have a couple of issues to discuss with you in private.”

Constantine motioned Sphrantzes over to the opposite end of the tower, facing into the city.

“What is it now?”

“My Lord, I have completed a tally of the forces in the city.”

“What are we working with? I’m hoping you have some good news for me. Did we make 20,000?”

“We have 7,000 defenders for the city.”

“What? How can that be possible? We received reinforcements. All of the previous estimates were in the 10,000 to 15,000 range.”

“I’m sorry My Lord, but I have made a very careful census and there are only 7,000.”

Constantine leaned against a tower wall for support. 7,000! How could he defend the city with 7,000 soldiers against 200,000 or more? Constantine was overwhelmed. Did he have to live a cursed life? Why was there never any good news? What had he ever done to deserve this? His ancestors had ruled over a city with half a million residents. Huge Greek armies and fleets had roamed every direction on the compass, extending the power of the empire and bringing back the riches of the world. With a tenth of the former might, he could easily defend the city. What could he do now? Should he just open the city gates and be done with it? Should he negotiate a surrender?

He forced himself to breathe and keep his emotions under control. He hoped the internal struggle had not shown on his face. He had to keep control, and give as much encouragement as he could muster.

“It will be alright Sphrantzes. I appreciate your hard work gathering this information. I am going to ride out to the sea wall defenses and inspect the forces there. Please let Giovanni know the number, but nobody else. We must keep this confidential.”

Constantine maintained his composure and left the tower. He mounted and rode stoically through the streets, greeting his fellow Greeks and providing as much encouragement as he could. The atmosphere in the city had changed noticeably since the arrival of the fleet, and more so after the army appeared. The people were afraid. He could see it in their eyes. The crisis had seemed to draw them back to him. He did not encounter the disapproving looks he had seen on so many faces since the announcement of the Union, but he felt that all would be forgiven if the city was held successfully.

He eventually made his way to Zophia’s. She was surprised and delighted to see him.

“My Lord, to what do I owe this visit on such a day?”

“May I come in?”

“Of course my love come in.”

Constantine went in and sat down heavily in a chair. “Do you have anything to drink? Something strong?” He saw Zophia’s look of concern. “I know it’s not my habit but today I need something.”

She searched the kitchen and finally came across a dusty bottle, she filled two glasses and brought a full one to Constantine. He gulped it down, scowling at the harshness of the drink. She put a gentle hand on his. He poured another glass and quickly drank it, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

“What is wrong?”

“I cannot hold the city.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is impossible. I have done everything I could. I even sold my soul and the city for the Union, but it does not make any difference. I cannot hold it.”

Tears streamed down his face. He needed to tell someone his fears. He had held them in for so long, even hiding the full truth from Zophia these many months. Now it was all coming out. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her legs, sobbing, holding her close. He felt her hands on his back and neck, rocking him back and forth, not understanding but holding him in support.

“Constantine, I have never seen you like this. Why are you feeling this way?”

“I always feel this way. But I try to hold hope for the city. But I do not see any hope now. No real aid has come from the west. Now there is a huge Turkish fleet which will stop any aid from reaching the city, even food, let alone more men. The Ottoman army is huge, many times larger than I expected. And they have cannon. Giovanni has worked miracles and I have no doubt he will be able to repel some of the breaches, but for how long? How long before we have lost too many men? Sphrantzes just told me we have only 7,000 men for the defense of the city. I thought we had 15,000 or more. I cannot hold the city with 7,000 men. It cannot be done.”

Zophia held him more tightly, letting him fall apart for a few minutes, giving him strength.

“Constantine my love, you know what you have to do. There is always hope. God can and will deliver this city if that is His will. You are the people’s strength. If you lose faith the city
will
fall. I know I am the only person you can show your fear to. It must remain that way. You must dry your tears, show your courage, and lead your people. But I ask you for me, do not give up your faith.”

He squeezed her tightly, kissing her. She was right of course. She was always right. For this moment, this brief moment, he wanted to forget it all, let it all go. But he knew he could not. He knew he had to be strong for his people. That was why he had fled the walls to come here, so he could have his moment of weakness to better build his strength for what he must do.

“And you must restore the church, Constantine.”

“What?”

He hadn’t expected this. She never involved herself in his political decisions. He needed her support right now, not further judgment. Why would she choose this greatest moment of weakness to bring this up?

She continued, “Constantine, you must restore the church. This Union has divided the city. It has brought no aid. God will destroy the city because of it. I ask for the people, restore their faith, and their faith in you.”

“Why would you bring this up now? After all these months? You know how difficult this decision was to make. If I go back now, the people would see the
only
reason I made this decision was for aid. I would look like a beggar. And aid may still come!”

He rose, angry.

“I came to you for support. You are the person on whom I depend. What do you seek from me? Compromise! I will be strong for the people, Zophia, I assure you! I will do and have done everything I need to do. I even sent an ambassador to Georgia to consider a betrothal. The city must come first. Not you, not the people’s stubborn faith!”

He immediately regretted his outburst.

“You did what?” Now she was angry as well. “When?”

“Several months ago. Not that it matters, because it is but one more desperate gamble that will bear no fruit. Everything I do comes to nothing. That is my lot in life, as if you did not know it!”

“You broke your promise to me and you kept it secret for two months? You have come here and laughed with me and made love to me while you held this from me. Does this mean nothing to you? Do I mean nothing? And you did not have the courage to tell me?”

He knew he had made a terrible mistake. A terrible mistake to send the betrothal request, and a terrible mistake to tell her. But she knew now and he could not take it back.

“Zophia, I’m sorry. I have wanted to tell you.

I have already decided, regardless of the answer, that I would not marry her,” he added helplessly. He wondered if that statement was true, or just another lie told in the name of saving the city. What had become of him that he didn’t even know what was the truth anymore? He realized how much of himself and his own integrity he had lost in the last few years, ostensibly all for his city and his people.

She rushed forward and struck him across the face, a stinging blow that nearly knocked him off his feet. “Get out! Get out and don’t come back. You have sold your soul and yourself! For what! Scraps! The scraps of these Italians? Oh what our great empire has become, that we are now the beggars and puppets of petty princedoms. For what? A ship or two, a few hundred men, a few thousand coins. To what end? To save a city that has decayed to nothing for a few more years? We are lost Constantine! You are lost! Go to your city and save it. I will keep my soul, my body and my honor!”

Constantine tried to touch her but she pushed him away. He turned and left Zophia’s home. He made his way back to his horse, tied to a tree near her front door. He adjusted the straps as he distractedly leaned against his mount for support.