Constantinopolis (25 page)

“Enough!” shouted Constantine. “I’ve had enough. This loss is terrible, worse than anything I could have expected. Let us not make it worse with accusations that will only harm our cause. Notaras my friend, get some rest and we will evaluate things in the morning. Set a close watch on the Horn though to assure they do not counterattack in the night. Sphrantzes, come with me, you have done enough harm here.”

They rode off in to the darkness, picking their way through the city along with sea walls as they traveled back toward the palace.

“My Lord, I’m sorry I lost my temper there. There is just so much at risk.”

“I am not angry. Perhaps those things even needed to be said. I agree with you that Notaras should have not depended so much on surprise. There are traitors and spies in the city. He must know that. He should have been ready for anything.”

“Thank you my Lord, but it gives me no pleasure to be right in this. What can we do now?”

Constantine hesitated. It was a good question. Now things were even worse. They had lost an important part of the fleet and in losing these ships they had also given the Turks confidence in the Ottoman fighting ability at sea. This would likely encourage them to launch even more attacks and even potentially to attack the sea wall. What could he do? Did he think this was going to be simple, that the Turks would do whatever he wanted them to? He must adapt, as always.

“We will take a small reserve from elsewhere in the city and station them near the Horn sea walls in case of an attack. It seems we can spare a few men from the sea walls on the Marmara side, since there have been no attacks there yet. I am not going to replace Notaras, but I will order him to have our fleet at a constant state of readiness in case we are attacked again.

“All sensible ideas, although I think you should replace . . .”

“I’m not doing it Sphrantzes. Enough.”

Sphrantzes bowed. “As you wish my Lord.”

“I am going to do one other thing and I want you to coordinate this. I want you to take a small ship and disguise it with men dressed as Turks. Find a bold captain. I want you to order this ship to sail on the morning tide. I want the ship to head out all the way past the Dardanelles if need be. I need to know when the relief fleets are going to get here. Have them find as much out as possible, then turn around and report in. I need to know how long I need to hold the city before help will arrive.”

“An excellent idea, my Lord. I will do so immediately. One other question. Do you think the Turks were tipped off we were coming?”

“I do not know. I would like to know.”

“I’ll see if I can poke around and find out My Lord.”

“Thank you George. You are a good friend, even if you’re a little opinionated at times.”

Sphrantzes smiled. “Nobody is perfect my Lord.” He whipped his horse around and headed back to the harbor.

Constantine was left in the darkness. Only when his friend was long out of sight did the Emperor turn his horse away from the palace, and ride slowly to Zophia’s. He knew she would be displeased to see him. He knew she would likely turn him away. He had to try. He was falling apart without her. He prayed a silent prayer to God, asking for mercy for his city, and mercy for himself.

Constantine dismounted before Zophia’s house and knocked softly on her door. There was no answer. He knocked again and eventually she opened the door. She was surprised to see him. He searched her eyes to see what emotions were playing over them. He saw excitement and happiness which quickly turned to a stern glare.

“I asked you not to come here Constantine. I do not know how clear I have to be.”

“It’s the end of the world my dear isn’t it? Can I not at least talk to you?” Where did that come from? “The end of the world?” Finally he had said it. He had for so long refused to even think about the situation of the city and certainly tried to keep it from others. Did he really feel it was the end? It was possible he realized. Saying it out loud for some reason made him feel calmer. He wished he could just be done with it. Even if he fell in battle, at least it would be the end of this weary lifetime of disappointment.

“You do not really mean that Constantine. You will not give up. You do not have it in you.”

Of course she was right, as she always was. “Can I please come in, just for a few minutes.”

She paused and he could see the pain in her eyes. “No. I cannot let you. I told you.”

“Please, I’m begging you. I need you. Just for a few minutes. I promise I won’t touch you.”

She sighed. “For a few minutes then. And just for tea.”

She turned around and walked into the kitchen. Constantine followed her. He looked around fondly, feeling so happy to be here. He was overwhelmed with memories. Her smell filled the room. They had spent so much time here. A refuge from all of his troubles. He looked at the roaring fire and the furs laid out before it. He remembered making love to her so many times here. So many different evenings together. Not just being together but talking, laughing, crying together.

“So how are things? I have not seen any Turks breaking down my door yet, so I assume we still hold the city?” She teased him a little, like she used to, and it made Constantine yearn for her even more.

“Oh you know, everything is fine. Really no problems at all.”

“Oh stop it Constantine,” she laughed. “Truly, how are things?”

“Truthfully, terrible, but not without hope. The reinforcements and food we received from the Genoese has helped. I think our food supplies will last a few more months, by which time the Turks should have left, or we should have received additional reinforcements. The Turks keep battering the walls by day and Giovanni rebuilds them by night. They have not breached the walls again since the first time, and we are managing to hold our own. The sea situation is now a real mess, and we lost a batch of ships. Well, Notaras did.”

“That sounds like Sphrantzes talking.”

“What if Sphrantzes is right? What if Notaras is a poor commander?”

“What of it? How many ships do you have left? And I do not believe it for a minute anyway. He is the one who came up with the idea to rebuild the sea chain right? And did he not defeat the Turkish fleet when they attacked the chain? It seems he has done pretty well. Do not let petty rivalries cloud your judgment.”

“I suppose you are right my love. I do grow tired of their constant bickering. That is the last thing I need in the middle of this nightmare. It is almost as bad as not being able to see you.”

She stiffened. “That was not my choice. How is your princess by the way? I have not seen any Georgian fleets ravaging the Turks.”

“Please my darling. Let us not talk about that.” He moved closer to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She started to pull back but he held her. “I have missed you so terribly Zophia. I need you. I cannot go on without you. Can you not please put this foolishness aside?”

She drew close to him, putting her arms around him and pulled him to her. She held him tightly. He could feel her shaking, sobbing. She held him for long moments. Then she drew away, wiping away her tears.

“I love you Constantine. I always will love you. Nothing has changed. But I have to remain true to who I am. You have made your choices. I will be here, but I cannot be with you.”

“Can we please just spend time together? I need someone to talk to, someone to trust and to listen to me. Someone to share with. I cannot do this without you.” He moved forward to hold her again but she stepped back and put up her hands.

“I am sorry Constantine. I cannot do it. I cannot spend time with you without falling apart. I need and want you too. If I spend any time with you, I will weaken and take you to my bed again. I want to do so right now.”

“Then do it. Please!”

“I cannot. Please, I do not have the strength to say no. I need you to leave. I need you to leave now. I’m sorry my love. I love you so much. You know I do. But I cannot be with you. I cannot spend time with you. I have to be true to myself.”

“You know why I had to do what I did.”

“As I have told you, I understand why you feel you had to do what you did, but whether you feel it is necessary or not, I will not be your mistress. I am either yours alone or I am not yours at all.”

Constantine fell to his knees clinging to her legs, weeping. “Please Zophia. Please, I need you. I cannot do this anymore.”

She held his head, held him close, weeping with him. “Be strong my dear. I have never known anyone stronger than you. I will always be with you, you know that. But I cannot be physically together with you, so long as you are seeking out another. Now my love, I have to ask you to leave me.”

He held on for a few more minutes, enjoying her smell and the feeling of her soft hands running through his hair. He soaked up these few moments, knowing they would have to serve to comfort him in the many days to come.

MONDAY, MAY 7, 1453

Mehmet sat astride his horse watching a terrible bombardment of the walls. He had ordered his cannon to fire continuously since yesterday morning. He had concentrated all of the fire on a small portion of the central land wall, and had amassed his men, most particularly the Janissaries, to rush forward as soon as a sufficient breach was blown through the walls.

The great victory in the Golden Horn had bolstered his position, and given him respite from Halil’s constant calls to lift the siege. But he knew he could not wait forever. Each day brought the fear of a relief fleet from the Italians, or could bring an invading Hungarian army. He must break the walls as quickly as he could, particularly now that the Greeks were spread even thinner by the threat of sea invasion in the Golden Horn.

He was tense and exhausted. The weeks of worry were starting to take their toll, even on his young body. He had few cards left to play. The movement of the fleet into the Horn had been brilliant he knew, and had taken the Greeks and his senior advisors by surprise, but in reality it had done only a little to improve the tactical situation. So long as any Greek fleet remained in the Horn, he really could not risk an attack on the sea walls, Not after the pathetic performance against the tiny Genoese relief fleet. Certainly it was true that his fleet had beat back the surprise attack by the Greek fleet, but he had been forewarned with plenty of time to prepare. Otherwise he might have lost his entire fleet. Thank Allah he had a spy among his enemies willing to give him these secrets. He would surely have had to withdraw if he had lost the fleet, and that was probably the same as losing his life.

That was why he was pressing this attack now. He had to do something to get into the city. A long siege continued to be too risky, and he could already sense that Halil and the other old guard advisors were beginning to grumble again. He did have a final card to play. He had secretly ordered the digging of a number of tunnels that when completed could be used to blow huge holes in the walls. However, these tunnels would not be done for some days. In the meantime, if he could blow a bigger hole in the walls than he did the last time, he hoped he could force his way in to the city.

Zaganos joined him after nightfall as the cannon continued to pound the walls.

“Good evening My Lord.”

“Ah good evening my friend. What news can you bring me?”

“Not too much is going on in my area My Lord. There have been a few cannon attacks on our ships by the Greeks. They sunk a couple small ships but we quickly shifted things around. I do not see it as any kind of long term threat. How are things here?”

“We have pounded this small area of the wall for two days now. As you can see, the wall has cracked in several areas and there are some small holes near the ground, but nothing significant enough to allow an attack. I will not repeat the mistake of attacking a small breach.”

“Very wise. We gave them a cheap victory last time. I agree we must wait for a significant breach before we attempt the walls again. Perhaps we should . . “

Zaganos was cut off by an enormous explosion against the land walls. They watched a huge chunk of wall explode and tumble down to the ground. A cloud of smoke and dust billowed up, illuminated by the fire and the flashes of cannon. For some time they could not make out the extent of the damage. When the smoke began to clear they were shocked, a forty foot segment of the outer wall had tumbled completely down. Greeks were screaming and scrambling in every direction.

Mehmet screamed to his men. “Attack! Attack now! Take the city!”

An enormous roar erupted from the Ottomans. Mehmet felt his blood boiling red hot. This was the moment! The city was his! He drew his own sword, charging in with his men as they screamed and ran toward the city. A hand grabbed his reigns and pulled him back. It was Zaganos. “No My Lord. You must stay back and stay safe. If you are killed all will be lost.”

Mehmet stared wildly at Zaganos. He considered cutting the general’s hand off at the wrist and continuing forward. Who was he to tell him no? But he realized his friend was correct. He should not put himself in danger of a stray bullet or arrow. He had plenty of time to enter the city after his men secured the breach. Victory was only minutes away, hours at the most.

He shouted at his men, encouraging them as they marched forward over the filled in Foss, and streamed toward the massive breach in the outer wall.

Mehmet stayed back with Zaganos, a bare 100 yards away from the wall, where they could watch firsthand the taking of the city. His Janissaries were soon jammed in with what appeared to be hundreds of Greeks, armored and armed, and battling for the life of the city. The din of swords crashing against other swords, of cannon, and the screams of the wounded thundered through the night air. Flashes of light and fire illuminated the struggle. Mehmet shouted encouragements mixed with curses. He promised 1,000 gold pieces to the first Ottoman to plant a banner on the city walls. His men shouted back to him in excitement and joy as they surged forward, pressing ever more tightly into the breach.

Arrows and musket fire poured into the Ottomans from the walls above. Mehmet’s men were taking huge casualties, primarily from this missile fire. But he had tens of thousands of men crammed into a very small area, and the losses did nothing more than slow down the attack. As the minutes turned to an hour, he observed the Greek lines beginning to thin. His men had pushed forward slightly into the huge breach, forming a crescent. He rode forward even farther, ducking an occasional arrow from the wall, so he could further encourage his men. He was enjoying himself immensely. This was the moment he had waited for, planned and prayed for. He would take the city and achieve the dream of his father, and his father’s father. The dream of almost a thousand years, to take the great Christian city for Allah, and make it the center of the world for a new Islamic empire.