Kingmaker by Peter Darman

Kingmaker by Peter Darman

Author:Peter Darman [Darman, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-15T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 11

‘God, this land is hot,’ complained Ulrich.

He and nearly five thousand others were tramping south alongside the River Danube on their way to Belgrade. Summer in southern Hungary was always hot and dry and the days were long. As in the Ottoman army, Leon’s soldiers rose early and had completed their day’s march before the intense heat of mid-afternoon was roasting the earth. The tents had been pitched and the earth rampart erected by midday, and then men and animals rested until the early evening when the beasts were fed and watered and the last meal of the day was prepared.

‘At least we do not have to bust our guts every day,’ said Wilhelm, like the others his sallet dangling from his belt and his padded coif removed.

‘What if the Ottomans are already at Belgrade?’ asked Rudy, his cheeks flushed with the heat.

Leon discounted the idea. ‘The Ottoman army moves slower than us, and will be hauling bombards and other artillery. Besides, the sultan will be in no hurry. He is certain of victory in his mind. He will wish to display his power while on the march, making great shows of force as he advances to the Danube.’

‘Pride before a fall,’ smirked Wilhelm.

‘I don’t want to tempt fate,’ said Ulrich, ‘but what happens if the sultan takes Belgrade?’

‘Well, if we are still alive after he does so,’ replied Leon, ‘then we will fall back to Szeged and make a stand there. But if the Hungarian king does not send reinforcements, then we will leave the city before it is besieged by the Ottomans. I doubt the sultan will extend mercy towards us a second time and I have no wish to live out the rest of my life as an Ottoman slave.’

‘Not even in the palace of a beautiful Turkish noblewoman?’ joked Rudy.

‘I will not dignify that question with an answer,’ retorted Leon.

They were marching through a plain dotted with villages, herds of grazing cattle and fields which extended to the horizon, swaying with ripening wheat and barley. This land, the banat, was prosperous and blessed with rich soil and an abundance of livestock. Leon reflected that it made Thrace look like a poor province. No wonder the sultan wanted to conquer it. Constantinople had been a religious and political target, but Hungary was an economic objective. Buda and Szeged were small in comparison to cities such as Milan, Vienna and Venice, but the soil of Hungary would allow Sultan Mehmet to support a very large army, one capable of conquering the Holy Roman Empire with ease. And Mehmet was young, which meant he could be methodical in his planning and conduct of campaigns, in stark contrast to the rampant disorganisation, petty rivalries and inertia throughout Christendom.

‘The coming battle will decide the fate of all Christendom,’ Leon blurted out.

‘And yet the great kings and princes of Germany and the leaders of the Italian republics sit on the arses and leave the fighting to us,’ complained Wilhelm.

‘That’s what they do, the rich and powerful, get others to fight for them,’ muttered Rudy.



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