Chapter 243: Ensam ar stark

"But the nearest Ottoman out post can send their reinforcements here in less than an hour!" Julian felt like giving this lazy man a tight slap to let him better realise what is going on in the world around him. 

"Relax, Julian. The reinforcements will not come, at least not from these outposts around." Nikolas stopped spending his time on Julian and went back to packing and loading these valuables on to his ships. 

"They won't come… What do you mean!" 

"Just trust me! They will not come!" 

And indeed, Nikolas is right, not even a single reinforcement came helping out on the city of Thessaloniki. The city is like a lonely baby abandoned by the Sultanate which did not send one single reinforcement to her aid. 

It is true that the surrounding Ottoman garrisons and outposts have received the messengers from Thessaloniki requesting for aid, and by their responsibilities they are supposed to send reinforcements saving the city from the Rumelian. However, just as the request for permission to depart for Thessaloniki is sent to the Bey of Rumelia, the order from the Bey came rather absurd as he asked these men to not intervene and stay put, totally unlike what the prestigious Turakhan Bag would do. 

The reason for this kind of absurd order is simple, Turahan Bey has fell ill ever since he heard the news of the ex-Sultan Mehmed II's demise under the Theodosian walls, as his body and mind is no longer as strong as he was young to withstand this kind of graving news. What makes things even worse is that his illness made him completely incapable of handling affairs of state. 

The Eyelat of Rumelia is no doubt one of the most influential and hefty Beylerbeylik in the entire Sultanate, and the news of the Bey falling incapable soon made this eyelet a political wrestling ground between the two political giants: The Grand Vizier Canderli Halil Pasha and Beylereyi, chief of the army Zaganos Pasha. Both sides took advantage of Turahan Bey being incapable and hammered their nails of pawns in to the lands of Rumelia, with Zaganos Pasha taking advantage of his higher influence over here appointing a fellow general under his command as the second in charge of Rumelia taking over the duties from Turahan Bey. 

However, the general appointed by Zaganos Pasha, although being extremely loyal to his master and marshal, but he knows nothing except how to fight wars, wrestle, play polo, and drink alcohol, leaving the government affairs to one side. This in turn gave the Grand Vizier a valuable chance to seize control of major cities like Thessaloniki and Alexandriapolis. Putting his own men together with his influence in to some areas, which of course upset the general appointed by Zaganos Pasha. 

And thus when the news of a rebellion erupted in Thessaloniki came, the half drunk general red the message and made a chain of demented crackle towards the ceiling and made his words clear to the messenger. 

"Why not I let the peasants help me sweep the sludge and wealth of Candarli Halil in that city, and then I shall return with my army for a clean city presenting it to Zaganos Pasha?" 

In conclusion, Thessaloniki can forget about any help. 

As the rebellion progresses the citizens find themselves increasingly powerless about these towers and fortresses, especially for the fortress of Vardar and the district of Acropole. These two fortresses have endured through thousands of years of hardship and sieges from the most elite and professional armies in the region with all kinds of technologies including modern artilleries, holding off against these peasants with only basic weapons out of the walls is just like a piece of cake. 

Anxious about the situation Julian organized a team of sturdy sailors he could find around him on the ships, equipping them each with a round shield, a helm and a cutlass. Their main task is to find a blind spot at the back of the Ottoman fortress of Vardar, take advantage of the darkness in night going to the back of the fortress, climb on to the walls and surprise the defenders. 

A challenging task indeed considering the fact that the walls of this fortress in the interior of the city is lower in height and less steep for attackers to climb as compared to the walls facing the outside, and there are some rocky stair case the rebels can use to their advantage. Climbing the walls on the outside is just similar to climbing up a cliff with out the assistance of any tools and ladders. 

But Julian is a sea man for years equipped with the superb knowledge of climbing the ship's masts and shrouds, making the job relatively easier as he can be the pioneer climbing a way out finding the cracks and slits in between the bricks of the walls as resting points for his men. 

The team set off going straight across the port of Constantine, against the surge of people, went all the way through the already crumbled port walls to the back of fortress. 

The group of fifty men stood under the battlements, it stands there as if it is conjured right from the Theodosian walls almost giving people the impression that they are back facing the city of Constantinople, the strongest building for miles around built of sturdy boulders and minerals from varying shape and sizes, From the angle of Julian they can only see the colour of grey and black luminated by the moon light, with some cracks and dents telling these offenders its desolate past histories enduring more than a decade sieges, ranging from the adventurous dare devils of the Normans, to the proficient soldiers of gold the Catalans, and finally the various attempts by the recent Ottomans. And now, they face the attack by Julian and his men, the only difference is that Julian only have around fifty men by his side, and they are about to climb the eleven meters tall wall with only bare hands, ropes and hooks. 

"Are we really going to climb this, captain?" A man behind Julian asked with a trembling par of hands. 

Julian looked back at the still calm seas, looked in front at the magnificent walls, bite his teeth and nodded. "Yes, we have no choice, it is either we get through these walls and seize the fortress, or we get extinguished inside the city."

"But…" 

"I remember you have a wife, right?" Julian interrupted and asked a completely different question. 

"Yes, captain." The man hurriedly replied. "I am just married to my wife two months back on the island of Koutalis." 

"No children yet?" 

"We had one, my wife is about to give birth in seven month's time." 

"Fine." Julian sighed. "You are out of this operation, now go back and guard the ships."

"Th…Thank you! My admiral! I owe you my life!" The man kneeled down and thanked Julian sobbing before going. 

Julian turned back and looked at the forty plus men remaining, glanced through them observed their dodgy eyes and trembling limbs. His mind hesitated too for a moment but still he opened his mouth and asked them a chain of questions. 

"Guys, those who are the only child of your parents, stand out and form a queue on my right."

Five men stepped out of the line. 

"Those who have formed a family and have children awaiting their return, step out!" 

Twelve men stepped out of the line. 

"Those of you who are literate knowing how to read and write, step out!"

Two men stepped out of the line. 

"Those of you who are…"

"Stop asking! Captain!" A bearded blonde norse looking man suddenly interrupted. "Say no more! These questions are like an insult to true warriors, we shall follow your back even if it is inferno and demons standing in front, so just give the orders!" 

Julian scrutinized this man before him and is caught in a blunt but unforgettable memories of the ancient past, back to the city of Constantinople, back before the gate of Kerkaporta. He could not resist himself but asked. "Are you a Varangian?" 

"Aye, captain. The name is Halfdan, you ought to know my brother Harald, he used to work for the admiral." 

Julian walked closer looking at the familiar but yet a lot younger face and almost faintly remembered him as the legendary Harald that used to fight by his side. 

"What about your family, Halfdan?" 

"I am the only surviving son of the family, my parents are still well and alive, and they can look after themselves with the wealth my brother and I sent back home." 

"Listen, Halfdan." Julian grabbed the broad shoulders of this varangian and warned him sternly. "You can choose to be not responsible to yourself, but I must be responsible for you. There is no pride you can gain in this operation, only the chance of you either falling down this damned wall, or get over run by the wicked Ottomans inside. If you die here, as the only child of your family, how am I supposed to explain to your parents?" 

"Worry not, captain, it is my mother herself that sent me here according to the ancient Viking traditions, giving me my axe, helmet and shield. I shall either return with triumph to them carrying loot and wealth, or I shall never return again." 

Julian felt a sour nose developing as he nodded heavily and gave this good young man a pat on his shoulder.