Outpost Battle (1)

“Is it really okay to do this?”

“Shh, be quiet. If we get caught, it won’t end well.”

Questioning such orders from the lofty ones was like poison to an ordinary soldier who had no choice but to obey, and a fellow soldier glared around cautiously.

Heeding this warning, the soldier lowered his voice further.

“We’re fighting on the territory of the Ottoman Empire. This is truly madness, isn’t it?”

It had barely been under a year since they participated in the succession war as reinforcements, and everything was still vividly etched in their minds.

He had watched as Prince Ahmed’s army was repelled merely by their appearance, and he had witnessed the prophecies of earthquakes while the capital was seized.

Now, thinking of facing him as an enemy was enough to fill his two eyes with fear like a turbulent sea.

“Our noble superiors must have made the right decisions. And we just need to be lucky enough to guard the harbor.”

“You’ve got a point. It’s better than sleeping in tents outside. This place is relatively secure.”

The harbor, piled high with supplies, was the most crucial region, yet the number of soldiers guarding it was quite scant.

While they might be insufficient to support Trabzon, the armies of Sanjakbey from Rajasthan or Erzurum could easily launch an attack.

To prepare for attacks from the two regions, troops were positioned forward in Samtskhe, leaving the harbor with a smaller contingent.

While casually chatting and keeping an eye on the harbor, the soldiers tilted their heads at the shape visible in the distance.

“Has the supply ship returned already?”

“It looks like more than that.”

As the distant shape became clearer, revealing about 20 large ships approaching, their expressions turned to confusion.

The size and number were suspicious for mere supply vessels.

Debating whether to sound the alarm, the soldiers called their commander immediately, and as the ships drew closer, soldiers lined up on the deck became visible.

“Ring the alarm! It’s the enemy!”

-Ding ding ding

With armed soldiers on deck, the alarm was sounded, causing a great commotion in the harbor.

Soldiers rushed with weapons in hand while citizens frantically dispersed, and the ships hearing the alarm rowed even faster.

“Fire! Shoot your bows!”

“Fire your bows! We can’t let the enemy fleet enter the harbor!”

Lacking the foresight to prepare incendiary arrows, the ready archers let their arrows fly immediately.

As a rain of arrows fell, the soldiers on the ships raised their shields, yet cries of those struck by arrows pierced through the air.

They managed to inflict damage on the enemy, but the faces of the commanders turned pale—there were far too few arrows to halt the ships.

Thunk!

-Ugh!

The ships, maintaining their speed, crashed into the scattered fishing boats in the harbor, sending several soldiers from the deck into the sea from the impact.

The soldiers who fell were struck by the following vessels and swept away by the rolling waves, yet the enemy ships continued onward unperturbed.

Boom! Crash!

As the wreckage of broken ships pushed into the harbor, enemy soldiers poured out from the docked fleet, prompting the commander to shout urgently.

“Stop them! You must hold your ground with your lives!”

He cried out for desperate resistance while slashing the neck of a fleeing soldier, but the difference in numbers was apparent.

As the archers stationed on the ships showered arrows down, the harbor instantly transformed into a scene of pandemonium.

For every enemy they pushed back, the Circassian soldiers raised their voices and charged forward.

“Traitors! Don’t hesitate; kill them!”

“They are the enemies who betrayed the Saint! Show them the wrath of the Circassians!”

Ivan, who had been rallying the soldiers, soon wore a fierce smile.

He thought that as long as they captured the harbor, they could withstand any losses, but the enemy’s response was weaker than anticipated.

“Is this the level of betrayal? How laughable.”

Ultimately, seeing the disorganized rabble fleeing, Ivan burst into laughter.

It was the moment the Circassian flag was planted in the harbor of Samtskhe.

*

“Get up! Hurry up!”

“Drop the stones! Prevent the enemies from daring to climb the walls!”

The siege at Trabzon was fiercely ongoing.

The commanders’ shouts, heard thousands and tens of thousands of times daily, had worn thin, and the hands of soldiers firing arrows were worn to shreds from overly drawn strings.

No soldier was without a light wound, and as the enemy’s swords pierced the bodies of those who climbed the walls, soldiers embraced the enemies instead.

“Let’s die together, you bastard!”

Seeing a comrade throw themselves down from the wall alongside them, the soldiers holding on bit down harder.

They had seen that scene too many times to count, yet rage surged through them every time.

In the siege, it wasn’t just the soldiers who fought.

It was evident what fate awaited them if they fell to the enemy below, and everyone, regardless of age or gender, pitched in to defend the fortress.

They brought stones from the destroyed houses to hurl outside the walls, poured boiling water, prepared food for the soldiers, and tended to the wounded—playing their parts to the fullest.

“What relentless bastards.”

Outside the castle, corpses were piling up, yet the enemy’s momentum showed no signs of diminishing.

It seemed they were intent on building hillocks out of the bodies.

Observing the battlefield, the newly-appointed Sanjakbey, Arda, questioned Batur, who had become his trusted subaltern.

“What’s the current status of our arrows?”

“Thanks to stockpiling supplies for the war with the Safavids, we still have plenty in reserve.”

“That’s a relief.”

It would have been frustrating to be outnumbered while also lacking arrows.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t shake his disappointment.

“If only we had enough gunpowder.”

The power of guns fired at close range was crucial in staving off the initial enemy onslaught.

However, the amount of gunpowder they had was limited, only lasting about two days at best.

“At least we have something, right? In other forts, they would have never dared to hope for this.”

“Yeah, if we start picking nits, we’d never stop. If we only had cannons, those wild beasts would have pissed their pants!”

“Haha, it’s not incorrect since they were terrified even just hearing gunfire.”

There had been a farcical incident where they fell from ladders in shock upon hearing that sound for the first time.

Of course, not being the usual elite, they quickly regained their wits and launched their counterattacks.

Joking lightly to shake off the burdens of the siege, Arda’s gaze fell upon the enemy supply ships leisurely crossing the sea.

“Those damned bastards, I’ll make sure they suffer in hell.”

Troops moving without supplies wouldn’t even dare to engage in a siege and would focus only on plundering.

With little food on hand, they had to rely on local procurement.

It seemed unreasonable not to feel angry that their forces, which would have had to scavenge like beggars, were able to mount such a siege thanks to Samtskhe’s assistance.

Arda’s anger towards Samtskhe was more pronounced than towards the Safavids leading the raid.

Just as Arda vowed revenge against Samtskhe, Batur called to him.

“Sanjakbey, something seems off.”

“What are you talking about?”

Arda followed Batur’s finger, where he spotted a small dock where enemy supplies were being unloaded.

They should be in a rush to offload supplies, but the people were merely bustling about.

It wasn’t definitive enough to be certain based on this fragmented sight, but…

“It seems something has gone awry, doesn’t it?”

“I think so too.”

Their gazes naturally turned towards the enemy command.

It seemed as if they were eavesdropping on discussions from this far away distance.

*

Ismail gazed coldly at Trabzon Castle, where battle raged on.

Even when he first arrived, he felt the enemy’s resistance was surprisingly fierce.

The sight of his subordinates and family, the Qizilbash, falling in battle was far from pleasant, and he forced his thoughts elsewhere.

“I’ll have a busy time upon returning.”

Ismail fiddled with a long iron piece.

When it fell beneath the castle wall, it bore signs of damage from the shock, but it was relatively intact among what his retreating subordinates had brought back.

Click clack

As he pulled the trigger, the grip moved up and down.

“Was this what they were using?”

Realizing that Yousuf was utilizing gunpowder, he had prepared to adopt it but had only managed to acquire cannons and hand cannons at best.

When he had asked the Venetian envoy during their last visit, the only gunpowder weapons they mentioned were of such caliber, praising their cannons.

Yet, against the invaders, he could no longer afford to overlook the power of this small stick.

‘It’s a blessing the enemy’s supply of gunpowder was minimal.’

However, this meant he would need to prepare if a full-scale war were to arise with the Ottoman.

In the case of an all-out war, they wouldn’t be unable to use these weapons due to a mere lack of gunpowder.

While Ismail lost himself in thought, his most trusted subaltern Mohammad came running towards him.

“Your Majesty, it’s a disaster.”

Since Mohammad was not one to panic easily, Ismail furrowed his brow.

“What is it?”

“The harbor we were sending supplies from has been captured by the Circassians.”

Ismail experienced a rare moment of mental fog.

Of course, it had been a long time, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Bring me Sargis.”

“Yes, Your Padishah.”

Not long after Mohammad withdrew, Sargis, with a pale countenance, knelt before him and paid his respects.

“Sargis, explain in detail what you’ve heard.”

“…I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

“What I want to hear from you is not an apology, Sargis.”

His eyes were filled with a tempestuous glare, foreboding death at any second; Sargis finally spoke.

“It is as reported. The harbor has been captured, and the supply ships approaching were attacked. The forces that captured it claimed to be Circassians.”

“Hah, Circassians.”

Ismail laughed in disbelief.

It was a region split into clans that couldn’t even unite; he had never envisioned they would commit such acts.

“It would be pointless to blame the morons for not being able to guard a single harbor properly. So, what are we going to do about supplies?”

“…I am sorry, but all supplies were concentrated at that harbor.”

Whoosh!

As a blade was buried into the ground before him, Sargis’ eyes widened in shock, and Ismail spoke in an enraged tone.

“You should consider yourself lucky. If you were my subordinate, that blade would have been stuck in your neck instead of the ground. Mohammad!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“How long can we hold out with the supplies we currently have?”

Mohammad quickly calculated and responded.

“We can manage for a maximum of ten days, even if we ration everything.”

Ten days were possible only if they saved everything to the maximum.

That meant they would have to engage in a siege with growling bellies, and Ismail made a cool-headed decision.

“No need to save. Feed the soldiers well. From now on, it will be day and night pounding at the gates.”

“I will follow your orders.”

Mohammad lowered his head deeply in respect.

“I will see how long you can withstand.”

Once again observing the stones fired from the trebuchets at Trabzon Castle, Ismail turned sharply.

*

A massive fleet crossed the calm Black Sea.

Behind three large galleys followed nearly forty galleys, and among them were two large karaks with two decks, each capable of carrying up to a thousand men, showcasing their might.

When counting the small schooners and supply ships trailing behind, the fleet exceeded a hundred vessels.

Yusuf, watching the sea from the deck of a large karak, suppressed his anger.

“There isn’t much left.”

Until he enacted justice on those daring enough to tread on his land.