Marc of Battle

Untitled Part 1

The impact of the shot shook the walls with a sharp dent, like a hammer on a stone bench where you might sit, feeling the pinch of the strike without any fear of collapse. An annoying knock felt through your bones but as harmless as distant thunder.

Marc stood on the upper rampart of the parapet of the outer wall. He had made his own way through the palace walls and stair wells, following the sound of the angry hornets which stung the mighty city. He followed others who walked leisurely upwards to the nearly road wide pathway that crowned the defensive wall and gathered with strangers, citizens of this new life, whatever it would be and however long it would last. Together they watched the angry throng of ants lit and blast their cannons into the walls, over and over.

It was a mission of math: which would last the longest? The thickness of the wall or the tenacity of the Turks? Would they have the will and the powder and the ammunition and the patience to outlast that which had outlasted a thousand years and more? At the moment, they seemed to. Rows of guns were set up in batteries of four and they took turns blasting away nearly once an hour, like some hellish clock chiming away without music or comfort. It brought a cheer though from those tending them, and those waiting for the city to crack open so they could run into it, killing and sacking where no easterner had done before. Pillaging where only weeks ago they shopped in peace, slaughtering where only days ago they supped in peace with the people now gathered on the ramparts. A Wall between them. An oath to battle to the death.

"They'll tire soon". Longo had come up behind Marc, sharing the view of the angry, teeming insects lined up the length of the wall. "This is where you and your men will stand", he swept his arm further down the wall from the palace. People of all types crowded the ramparts, unafraid of debris or archers or any danger at all. It was as if a parade were being held, a spectacle for their benefit. Men and women, soldiers and citizens, even some small boys and even younger children, safely atop the wall, beaming, as if looking down into some great tiger pit, watching an agitated beast kept well at bay.

"I'll be here". He sounded calm and confident, as if preparing for a pageant or a parade. Marc looked him over. He was relaxed, almost happy. Longo noticed the scrutiny. "Worry for nothing, brother, we will win this thing."

"They seem determined. And well prepared. And so many.'

"The numbers matter nothing if they can't get in." Longo seemed sure of himself and Marc realized it was the effect of much experience.

"I've never been under siege before."

"It's something to see all these people lined up and wanting to taste your blood, juggle your head at a party, meet us all on pikes." Marc wished Longo was a bit less detailed.

"Yes", he admitted.

"Not to worry, it goes away. The biggest part of the siege has already taken place and has fallen to us." Longo drew Marc's studied stare again and enjoyed it. "Preparation. That's what makes or breaks a siege. Luckily, I arrived in plenty of time. We're prepared."

"Against all this?" Marc was still wrestling with the extreme of the situation. He was glad to be in the oldest city on earth and in the mightiest fortress ever built, but he was keenly aware of facing the largest army he had ever known, maybe the largest ever, larger than anything he could have imagined. And guns. Cannon like he had never seen before, and never used like this before.

"All this won't last the summer. They'll tire of the sweltering heat, the lack of shade, the lack of progress. We've estimated the progress of their guns already and it will take them years to bring down a wall. They've not the patience for it."

"We can last the year?"

"Oh yes, preparation. The most important part of a siege. We've laid in plenty of stores for a population twice our size. We've had a lot of citizens leave in the last few months. As soon as they saw the Sultan's second castle being built, people got feverish for safer cities. Fled westward. And the Turks that used to live inside the city were at once imprisoned and shut up within the gates. This, of course, just infuriated the Sultan and gave him more of an excuse to war, but it was his aim all along. After three days, the emperor softened and let them out. Fewer mouths to feed."