Read Online The Emperor Awakes by Alexis Konnaris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alexis Konnaris
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and religious spot was teaming with people praying to their God. Ayia Sofia, the city’s great Cathedral, was packed to the rafters with people trying to reach God with the prayers and hope of a thousand years. The air inside the great church was thick with the breathing of so many, mixed with the heady smoke of the incense burners.
The view from the walls chilled the blood and spread terror through the heart. As far as the eye could see, the fields had lost their normal sunburned colour; they had turned black. The Ottoman armies looked like a dark cloud that had descended on earth and had choked the life out of every living thing. The Ottoman had fanned out far and wide in its blockade of the city.
The mighty canons were in place ready to direct their firepower at the centre of the Western land walls or Mesoteichion, between the St. Romanus Gate and the Gate of Charisius. That was the weakest part of the walls where the ground descended towards the valley of the Lycus stream, making this part of the walls lower than the rest of the walls.
The walls were thick, but could they withstand the vicious and relentless onslaught about to be unleashed at them?
* * *
The walls of every city had a weakness and so it was with Constantinople. Particular attention had been given to the defence of that weak spot. Unlike the rest of the land walls, which were of triple-thickness, at the Vlachernae Quarter, on the North-Western side, there was only one single wall, and it was here close to the Palace of Vlachernae that the Ottoman cannons were concentrating their firepower and where they would break through.
A small gate on the Vlachernae walls called Kerkoporta was the culprit. It had accidentally been left open after a sortie by a band of the city’s defenders. Some Ottomans went through, but were repelled and the small gate was closed. However, a small number of Ottomans were trapped inside, between the outer and inner walls.
Unfortunately for the defenders, this small Ottoman group had the canny idea to raise the Ottoman standard on the tower next to the gate. Some of the defenders saw that as a sign that the Ottomans had got through and that the Vlacharnae Quarter had fallen to the enemy.
The news spread through the city like wildfire and demoralised many. Others were heartened and enraged by it, their determination bolstered, and it became the impetus for a final push to repel the enemy within. They fought like lions, but to no avail.
The bombardment rained relentless on the city. Stone after stone was dislodged from its many-a-century-old position. Chunk upon chunk of wall was collapsing. Every hit slashed another wound. The wounds were multiplying and they were getting deeper until one final hit brought a huge section of the Western Walls near the Vlachernae Quarter crushing down.
A powerful gust of stale air rushed out and hit the Ottomans with tremendous force. It took them aback and the Ottoman rush paused, but only for a moment.
A gust of dust and debris burst through and blinded the defenders within. The mouth had widened considerably and its appetite for the Ottoman troops entering the city was insatiable.
Nothing could stop the flood of Ottomans rushing into the city through the breach. Wave after wave of Ottomans was sweeping through, thirsty for victory, hungry for killing and looting and raping, hungry for their rightful reward.
They had no fear for death itself, for there was reward in death as well, perhaps for them the biggest reward was in heaven.
Fires were breaking across the city. Screams pierced the night air. The sound of sword against sword, gun against gun, echoed all around and was getting louder as it spread through the city’s streets.
Panic reigned everywhere. You could smell the fear, the sweat, the smoke and the already rotting bodies. It choked the air out of you.
The city had been breached. The city was being violated. Its reputation of inviolability and impregnability shattered in
The view from the walls chilled the blood and spread terror through the heart. As far as the eye could see, the fields had lost their normal sunburned colour; they had turned black. The Ottoman armies looked like a dark cloud that had descended on earth and had choked the life out of every living thing. The Ottoman had fanned out far and wide in its blockade of the city.
The mighty canons were in place ready to direct their firepower at the centre of the Western land walls or Mesoteichion, between the St. Romanus Gate and the Gate of Charisius. That was the weakest part of the walls where the ground descended towards the valley of the Lycus stream, making this part of the walls lower than the rest of the walls.
The walls were thick, but could they withstand the vicious and relentless onslaught about to be unleashed at them?
* * *
The walls of every city had a weakness and so it was with Constantinople. Particular attention had been given to the defence of that weak spot. Unlike the rest of the land walls, which were of triple-thickness, at the Vlachernae Quarter, on the North-Western side, there was only one single wall, and it was here close to the Palace of Vlachernae that the Ottoman cannons were concentrating their firepower and where they would break through.
A small gate on the Vlachernae walls called Kerkoporta was the culprit. It had accidentally been left open after a sortie by a band of the city’s defenders. Some Ottomans went through, but were repelled and the small gate was closed. However, a small number of Ottomans were trapped inside, between the outer and inner walls.
Unfortunately for the defenders, this small Ottoman group had the canny idea to raise the Ottoman standard on the tower next to the gate. Some of the defenders saw that as a sign that the Ottomans had got through and that the Vlacharnae Quarter had fallen to the enemy.
The news spread through the city like wildfire and demoralised many. Others were heartened and enraged by it, their determination bolstered, and it became the impetus for a final push to repel the enemy within. They fought like lions, but to no avail.
The bombardment rained relentless on the city. Stone after stone was dislodged from its many-a-century-old position. Chunk upon chunk of wall was collapsing. Every hit slashed another wound. The wounds were multiplying and they were getting deeper until one final hit brought a huge section of the Western Walls near the Vlachernae Quarter crushing down.
A powerful gust of stale air rushed out and hit the Ottomans with tremendous force. It took them aback and the Ottoman rush paused, but only for a moment.
A gust of dust and debris burst through and blinded the defenders within. The mouth had widened considerably and its appetite for the Ottoman troops entering the city was insatiable.
Nothing could stop the flood of Ottomans rushing into the city through the breach. Wave after wave of Ottomans was sweeping through, thirsty for victory, hungry for killing and looting and raping, hungry for their rightful reward.
They had no fear for death itself, for there was reward in death as well, perhaps for them the biggest reward was in heaven.
Fires were breaking across the city. Screams pierced the night air. The sound of sword against sword, gun against gun, echoed all around and was getting louder as it spread through the city’s streets.
Panic reigned everywhere. You could smell the fear, the sweat, the smoke and the already rotting bodies. It choked the air out of you.
The city had been breached. The city was being violated. Its reputation of inviolability and impregnability shattered in
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