Patricia Taylor
Stories
11
Chapters
3,604
Words
1.6 M
Comments
0
Reading
5 d, 16 h
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"You know what, I have a feeling that whichever man that married your sister in the future will have a pretty hard time." Antonius murmured beside Jacob Notaras' ears. "Indeed…Indeed." Jacob Notaras recalled how bossy his sister can be sometimes, and hastily nodding his head in agreement. It took a while before the mess is finally cleaned up and the baby went back to sleep soundly, while the two poor men and boy remained standing there for god knows how long before Anna told them that they can turn…-
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"Allah aşkına…" Abdullah lost his words at this sight. Angelo took a glance at the tragic scenery, shook his head and patted Abdullah on the back. "Wake up kid." "We can joke around, we can mess around, we can fuck around, but do not remember." "We are in a war, and in a war shits happen." Abdullah nodded his head while still staring blankly at the devastation beneath him. However just as he is about to turn away, a vague sound caught his ears. "You hear that old man?" Abdullah stopped and asked…
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Mehmed watches as the city he is destined to take burns slowly into ashes. His viziers, pashas, beys and courtiers stand behind him with their heads low. "They gave me no choice." Mehmed opened his mouth with his back facing the grand vizier. "Yes, we understand, my Sultan." The Grand Vizier bowed even lower. "No wise Sultan in this world will damage any possession that is destined to be his in the future…" "Yes, my Sultan." The Grand Vizier Candarli Halil Pasha leaned forward with his head staying…
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Tenth of March 1453 AD, one month into the siege of Constantinople. Abdullah can be seen on the walls hugging a piece of shattered mirror and crying. Beside him Angelo stares at him with eyes of despise. Abdullah is crying because the merciless unstopping Ottoman shelling destroyed his work which he thinks is an ingenious piece of design which shall mark his name in the long run of history. Apparently the Ottoman shells shattered his hope and ambitions by shattering his 'masterpiece', his mirrors.…
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The time marches into March as Antonius seats on a wheelchair unable to move at all. The Ottoman siege prolongs, coming almost everyday with waves after waves of attack trying to tear down these walls or deplete the number of Roman defenders. But clearly, they have failed quite badly. Furthermore, on the Second of March, five hundred Venetians sailed into the Golden Horn landing in the port Of Neostrion as an reinforcement aid from the Doux of Candia, Benedetto Vitturi, as instructed by the serene doge…
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Antonius got wakened up on the process of being carried away from the surgery table as the clergies need to conduct surgery for another soldier. Due to the effect of anesthetic cream being applied just now, Antonius still cannot figure out what is going on, still dizzy and sleeping trying hard not to doze off again and see what is going on around him. Then he saw Abdullah behind his feet, nodded towards him and continued dozing off on the stretcher. As the two men carries Antonius into the palace of…
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"But can he make a complete recovery?" Abdullah finally came across an area of speciality he is not familiar with. He questioned the clergy repeatedly as he rubs a brownish cream on the muscles and peeled skins of Antonius with anxiety that his friend's hands might be amputated. "I can only say that he has no immediate threat of dying, but the infections by bacteria through his hand can still kill him a day or two later." The clergy wiped the blood off his hands and washed it with water, then walked…
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"Antonius…" "Antonius… I have remembered his name." Mehmed nodded. "…And I hope I will not hear his name again, is that clear?" "Yes, my Sultan." Selim Pasha and Zaganos Pasha bowed and answered. Meanwhile Antonius is still standing there as he picked up another spear from the ground and continued shouting out to the Ottomans caterchising if anyone still wants to step forward and challenge him. But no one steps forward and confronts him, with every step Antonius steps forward, the Ottomans back…
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"Easy admiral!" The old man laughed and patted Antonius' back. "Today is a good day to die." "Aye indeed…" Antonius replied. "Today IS a good day to die." "But the ones who are dying today…. Is not the two of us." Then, Antonius yelled to Abdullah on the walls. "Hey brother! Listen to me! Do not shoot at those calvaries!" "But! Antonius! You…" Anxious about Antonius' ridiculous order, Abdullah immediately retorted. "Are you out of your mind? The…" "But me no buts! Abdullah! No more shooting…
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"Ready yourselves boys! Brace for impact!" Antonius shouted out to his men behind the cover of his shield, the Ottoman horsemen have come into a distance dangerously close. The next second, the two forces collided against each other like a rogue wave hitting hard a cliff. The only difference in this case is that, the cliff moved. The power of horses is completely irresistible for human bodies. The more built up ones are forced to fall back a few steps to hold his grounds, while the weaker ones are…
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