I had assumed that Murad sought a decisive battle, and that narrow perspective had blinded me.
But now that I understood his true intentions, there was no time to waste. The cities of central Greece were already harbouring resentment due to the harsh measures imposed to control the plague.
These were people who had been weighing their loyalties between the Ottomans and the Empire. If Murad were to appear in the rear rather than at Nemeapatre, how would they react? It was obvious—they would declare allegiance to the Ottomans without hesitation and turn their swords against the Empire.
“Therefore, we must begin retreating immediately.”
“But, Your Highness, if we do that, Nemeapatre will not hold for long. What will you do if this is exactly what the enemy desires?”
“Nemeapatre is not the issue. If Athens falls, we will be isolated in enemy territory.”
Unlike other cities, Athens was directly under my governance, so I didn’t think it would fall easily. The real problem was time. No matter how long Athens could hold out, if it fell before we arrived, it would all be meaningless. It was wiser to retreat while there was still some room to maneuver. Of course, we would need to ensure that Nemeapatre was rendered useless before abandoning it.
“Adrianos, select three hundred soldiers along with a trusted officer. They must be men who are prepared to face death.”
“…Surely not, Your Highness!”
“Exactly that. At this point, it is inevitable that Nemeapatre will fall to the enemy. We must inflict as much damage as possible as we retreat.”
It was fortunate I hadn’t naively believed that the original plan would proceed smoothly. This was why people always needed a contingency. And this wasn’t just any fire—it was Greek fire. To the looting soldiers, its inextinguishable flames would inflict catastrophic damage. As these thoughts crossed my mind, Adrianos, his face twisted with emotion, spoke in a strained voice.
“…Your Highness, though circumstances leave us no choice, please remember that the people living here are also subjects of the Empire.”
“Adrianos, rest assured—I will not become the bloodthirsty murderer you fear.”
The decision was made. Just as I stood to dissolve the war council, the mercenary captain, who had been sent out briefly, returned. Ivania approached, seemingly oblivious to her sweat-soaked blonde hair.
“Your Highness, I have observed the enemy as instructed. However, they still have not begun a siege and continue to maintain their encirclement.”
“Are they maintaining a standoff to distract us?”
It was a stroke of luck that I managed to discern Murad’s intentions, even belatedly. His passive stance now made sense—he wanted to conserve his forces and settle the battle in one decisive stroke. Even if a battle were to occur, we would face only a portion of Murad’s forces, equal in number or fewer. Now, when their forces were divided, was our best opportunity.
“Set up decoys in armor to disguise our numbers and ensure they don’t realize our retreat. We shall withdraw under the cover of darkness.”
Even if this was bait meant to draw us out, they wouldn’t expect us to abandon Nemeapatre entirely. I resolved to pursue Murad and strike his rear. Clenching my fist tightly, I reaffirmed my determination. The battle was far from over. I continued to push myself relentlessly.
And so, we began the retreat.
It took days to evacuate the civilians, gather supplies, and prepare for the withdrawal to minimize the damage from the impending flames. During this time, the Ottoman forces showed no significant movement. Now that I understood their intent to fix our attention on the forces encircling us, such passivity was preferable. If they realized we were retreating and tightened the encirclement, we would have been hopelessly trapped.
All that remained was to scorch the earth. Once the gates were breached and the enemy poured into the city, Greek fire would engulf the streets. For this purpose, I left behind a force of three hundred—the death squad. A cause so precious that men would risk their lives for it made even death bearable: faith, country, and the safety of their families. The officer in charge of this mission was Nikefos, a resolute man who spoke with solemn determination when he visited me before the retreat.
“Your Highness, we are prepared to lay down our lives and fight the infidels to the very end. Please, grant our wives and children not only the sorrow of losing us but also the joy of victory.”
“…When the time comes to inscribe names into the archives of history, yours will be among the first I write.”
“It has been an honor to serve alongside you, Your Highness.”
The death squad was made up of men who had already resolved to die. And the living could not linger with the dead. Though the knowledge of leaving comrades to certain death weighed heavily on the soldiers, there was no time to dwell on sentimentality. Athens had to be saved. Central Greece had to be kept out of Murad’s grasp. This sense of urgency and desperation permeated the entire force.
Before the retreat began, I addressed the troops.
“Remember the brave men who remain behind for our sake. Etch into your hearts what we must do for those who will fall with the hope of victory.”
The response was a heavy silence. Was there truly anyone among them who didn’t want to stay and honor the fallen by fighting alongside them? Yet, with heavy hearts, we left Nemeapatre behind.
It was the start of a painful pursuit.
Fueled by tension and the knowledge that time could not be wasted, we focused solely on tracking the enemy’s movements. Had they bypassed the mountains? If so, even finding their trail would be exhausting. Perhaps we were already too late… Such thoughts didn’t last long, as signs of a camp appeared almost as if to taunt us. Had they not worried about being pursued? Perhaps they assumed we would remain holed up in Nemeapatre.
The truth revealed itself about a week later.
Standing before us were the white-capped soldiers we hadn’t seen during the siege of Nemeapatre—the Janissaries, the Sultan’s elite guard, arrayed in flawless formation, facing us as if they had anticipated our pursuit. Their ranks were so perfectly ordered that it seemed they had expected this moment all along. An unease, like an erupting volcano, spread through my entire being.
Something was wrong.
What was it? The answer lay with the enemy. The banners of Murad, which had been absent during the siege of Nemeapatre, were nowhere to be seen among the Janissaries either. Why wasn’t Murad’s banner here? The Sultan’s guard should indicate the Sultan’s presence, shouldn’t they?
…Where the Janissaries are, the Sultan must be…
A chilling sensation ran down my spine.
The assumptions I had taken as obvious turned into daggers stabbing at my heart. My initial thoughts had been correct—Murad wanted a battle. But that didn’t mean a battle near Athens or a direct clash of armies. His goal was encirclement and annihilation. The appearance of retaking central Greece had merely been bait.
Murad wasn’t here.
He was…
Adrianos’s trembling voice interrupted my thoughts.
“…It’s a trap, Your Highness!”
//
“Sultan, the prince has abandoned the city. It seems he has realized the Janissaries’ movements.”
At the soldier’s report, the young Sultan smiled silently.
“A wise decision, Dragases.”
But there was one flawed premise in your judgment. I simply used it to my advantage.
The young Sultan, Murad, glanced around the tent he had occupied for so long before standing up.
“I’ve stayed too long in this cramped tent.”
With those words, Murad stepped outside, gazing toward the walls that lay in the distance. Under the dark night sky, little could be seen, but he revealed his excitement to the soldier by his side.
“Look. The gates will open on their own.”
“Your will shall be done, Sultan.”
“I admire your faith. Then I shall grant you the opportunity to witness with your own eyes the fulfillment of my will.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
The soldier turned in the direction Murad pointed, and his expression froze in shock. It was just as Murad had said. By the Sultan’s will, the gates of Nemeapatre were opening on their own. Watching this, Murad couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer.
“Raise my banner. It is time to announce that the true master has returned.”
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