1444, Byzantium Resurrects

On 10 August 1448, Mansur, the son of the Mamluk sultan Shihab al-Din, arrived at the gates of Tobruk with his army.

Isaac stood on the city walls in full armour.

Mansur rode up on a tall horse, surrounded by his bodyguards, and approached the city walls arrogantly.

Isaac ordered his men to shoot arrows to stop Mansur from advancing.

"Enemy commander, come out and talk!"

Mansur's face was grim as he ordered a bodyguard with a loud voice to shout in Greek.

Isaac was dumbfounded.

What's going on? Does he think he's Saladin? The soldiers around him looked at Isaac.

He had no choice but to respond.

He raised his head from the battlements, protected by several bodyguards holding large shields.

"I am Isaac Palaiologos, Prince of Rome, Grand Duke of Surt and Lord of Cyrenaica."

"I don't care who you are; you cannot afford to anger the Mamluks!"

Mansur shouted arrogantly.

"Even the Mongols were defeated by the brave Mamluks. Who do you think you are?"

Isaac waved his hand and summoned the sharpshooter, Hakan.

"Shoot him."

Hakan drew his bow and released an arrow that flew through the air like a meteor, landing in front of Mansur's horse's hooves and kicking up dust.

Mansur was about to speak again when his startled horse reared up and he lost his balance, falling heavily to the ground.

The nearby guards hurriedly helped Mansur up, mounted a spare horse and rode back to camp, cursing all the way.

Isaac looked at Mansur and thought, 'What a pity.'

These two fools had probably never commanded a war of this magnitude before and were treating it like child's play.

It was no wonder that he had been overthrown by the vizier Ashraf after only a few months as sultan.

They were supposed to be Mongols, yet they hadn't learned anything from the wise and valiant Baybars.

Once the farce was over, the enemy army began its attack.

Clearly still influenced by Isaac's strategy of clearing the land, the enemy had not brought large cannons and catapults.

Armed only with small crossbows and catapults, Mansur would never be able to capture Tobruk.

The Mamluk army could not conscript any civilians in the surrounding area, so they had no choice but to charge alone.

Shouting to Allah, countless fanatical holy warriors rushed towards the city walls from several directions. Some carried ladders and others carried sandbags. They paid no attention to the arrows and boulders flying over their heads.

They were like angry beasts, their cheeks half-shaven by stone fragments, yet they still carried the sandbags and ladders forward to hand them to their comrades.

This was the Muslim: resilient and tenacious, ignorant and devout.

Mansur clearly had no idea of the strength of the garrison inside the city. He kept his elite Mamluk troops close at hand and sent the jihadists and tribal warriors as the first wave of attackers to test the enemy's strength.

The battle raged from morning until dawn, resulting in heavy casualties among the Mamluk jihadists, yet they failed to reach the city walls.

Mansur gritted his teeth and ordered a retreat.

Even though he was foolish, he had realised that the Christians were numerous and well-trained. Although they lacked large defensive weapons, they were clearly difficult to attack, being entrenched in the high city.

He was not concerned about the casualties among the holy warriors, as there were plenty more of them in Cairo and Alexandria.

However, he was concerned that, given his current military strength, he would not be able to capture Tobruk before his vizier, Ashraf, arrived.

If he waited until then, his already limited prestige would diminish further.

Mansur returned to his camp and sat alone, not knowing what to do.

In the days that followed, the Mamluks did not continue their suicidal assault on the city as they had on the first day. Instead, they occasionally advanced in small groups, only to retreat in disarray when met with a hail of arrows and stones. Their aim was to wear down the defenders inside the city.

Isaac divided the troops into three groups and rotated them every eight hours, while the other troops rested. This meant that Mansur's strategy did not have the desired effect.

In fact, given the number of troops in Tobruk, it would have been impossible to break through with fewer than 20,000 soldiers.

As time passed, the defenders did not run out of food or water; they were not worn out by constant fighting; and they did not exhaust their supply of arrows and stones.

Every time the enemy troops below the city walls sat down to eat, Isaac had his soldiers carry large pots of lamb stew onto the city walls. Several soldiers with loud voices would then deliberately talk and laugh loudly while sprinkling large amounts of spices on the stew, all for the Mamluks below to see.

Looking at their dry rations and dried meat, the soldiers below the city walls immediately refused to continue. They demanded that Mansur withdraw his troops.

Mansur had no choice but to throw gold coins by the handful to appease them.

This naïve prince had hoped that the elite Mamluk warriors would help to suppress the unrest among the soldiers, but instead they were the ones causing the most trouble.

By 20 August 1448, Mansur had besieged the city for ten days without capturing it.

Sultan Chakmak, who was far away in Cairo, could no longer sit still.

It should be noted that the 50,000 ducats were intended solely for the Venetian fleet, while the Mamluks were responsible for the daily wages and maintenance costs.

The Venetian captains took advantage of the Mamluk sultan's predicament, deliberately raising their wages and striking whenever they were dissatisfied.

Each day of delay was another blow to the treasury.

Faced with this situation, Chakmak could no longer ignore the voices of opposition and agreed to dispatch a second army.

On 25 August 1448, Chancellor Ashraf officially set out for Tobruk with 10,000 elite local troops and some artillery.

As expected, as soon as he arrived at the siege camp, Ashraf immediately seized Mansur's military power, opened the treasury and rallied the troops.

The siege commanders had already been dissatisfied with Mansur, and when the vizier arrived, they changed their tune without hesitation.

Faced with disloyal generals, Mansur was helpless.

On 30 August 1448, the long-awaited sound of cannons echoed across Tobruk, marking the start of the second phase of the siege.

Ashraf, a seasoned veteran of many battles, was no match for Mansur, who was all style and no substance.

Ashraf divided his soldiers into several attack groups. First, he used the cannons he had brought to bombard the city walls, and then he sent the attack groups in waves.

The Mamluk attack groups managed to climb onto the city walls, but unfortunately they had no reinforcements and were scattered and defeated by Isaac's reserve troops.

After several days of fighting, both sides had a good understanding of each other's methods of warfare, and the war turned into a bloody battle of attrition.

Late at night, Ashraf sat in his tent, staring at the map and scribbling notes.

His son Aslan pushed open the tent flap and handed him the daily casualty report.

"Any news about the Slave Legion of the Palaiologos family?"

Ashraf asked.

Aslan shook his head.

"Since the siege of Tobruk began, there has been no news of the Red Death. There have been sporadic incidents of looting in the area, but they are probably just tribes taking advantage of the situation."

"Have you made contact with Yusuf and the resistance forces in the Bayrga region?"

Aslan shook his head again.

"Yusuf refused to come out and fight, and he sent our envoys away."

"As for the local area..."

Anger flashed in Aslan's eyes.

"The entire Green Mountain region has been almost completely ransacked, and large numbers of people have been driven westward. There is no resistance force."

Ashraf fell silent.

"Ata, you..."

"How many times have I told you to use your army title!"

"Yes, General."

Aslan lowered his eyes.

"Tell them to prepare for a general attack tomorrow."

"Disperse the skirmishers, and report immediately if there is any movement from the Slave Legion."

"Yes!"

Aslan bowed and left.

Ashraf did not want to launch a general attack just yet.

Since the siege began, he had managed to figure out the enemy's battle formation, but the Slave Legion, known as the 'Red Death', remained a mystery.

The Slave Legion had always carried out raids in groups of a hundred, so even they did not know how many men they had.

Some said a thousand, some said two thousand and some said five thousand.

The last time they had captured a Slave soldier, he had claimed that there were 100,000 of them. This had enraged Ashraf so much that he had ordered the soldier to be beaten to death with sticks.

This mysterious legion was the biggest variable in this battle.

Ashraf looked at the urgent letter from Cairo and felt his heart race.

The money spent on this war had already far exceeded the budget, and the Venetians' greed knew no bounds. They had repeatedly threatened to strike and demanded pay rises.

If the war dragged on, food and water supplies might become problematic.

His own siege forces had also suffered heavy losses, with several waves of holy warriors arriving by ship from Matruh Port and being buried in the wilderness.

This had caused a great deal of discontent among the Urimah, a factor he had to take into consideration.

On 10 September 1448, the trumpets sounded, marking the start of the siege. For the defenders inside the city, it was still a normal day.

The enemy's cannons were firing more fiercely and arrows and stones were flying thick and fast. They must have been desperate.

This was nothing new.

On the western section of the city wall, the soldiers lay quietly behind the parapet, waiting for the first round of cannon fire to end.

They were used to the enemy's tactics by now and even had time to joke around.

Some were from the Earl of Adnan's retinue and some were from the Purple Guard; together, they formed the defensive line on the western section of the city wall.

In recent days, the enemy's firepower had increased in intensity, but their attacks on the city walls had weakened.

Some veterans pointed out that the enemy was about to collapse.

Sure enough, everything remained as before.

After the cannon fire ceased, groups of enemy soldiers advanced towards the city walls under the cover of shields and siege engines.

"Stay alert! Prepare the rolling stones and boiling oil!" the captains of each squad shouted.

While these weapons were effective against individual soldiers with shields and ladders, they were not very effective against siege engines covered with specially made cowhide.

The defenders found it difficult to damage the Mamluk siege engines due to the lack of large defensive weapons.

The enemy's attack was particularly fierce today, with waves of soldiers surging towards the city walls from all directions.

Count Mikhail led the First Legion of the Imperial Guard, rushing from one city wall to another and extinguishing fires as he went.

Overall, the situation was still relatively good.

This puzzled Isaac.

Sieges of this intensity usually caused heavy casualties on both sides, but the losses on the attacking side were certainly far greater than those on the defending side.

Was this a battle to decide the fate of the kingdom?

What was the enemy's plan? "It's time! Let them begin!"

Ashraf observed the fierce battle on the city walls from afar and searched for weak points.

"Let's start with the western section!"

The battle on the western section was fierce but still under control.

The soldiers skillfully responded to each attack, using different weapons against different enemies.

When the enemy raised their shields, the soldiers used stones; when the enemy climbed ladders, the soldiers used crossbow arrows.

"The enemy's siege engines are coming! Switch to fire arrows!"

The archers responded by rushing forward and setting fire to the enemy siege engines with arrows lit on fire pits.

The arrows landed on the engines and the flames flickered a few times before dying down.

"These are specially treated siege engines. Switch to war hammers and pikes! Prepare to fight!"

These siege engines were coated in a substance that made them difficult to burn.

As the engines drew closer, the fierce faces and twitching beards of the enemy were clearly visible.

"Kill!"

The two armies collided.

As soon as they engaged, the defenders immediately sensed that something was wrong.

Although the enemy was dressed in tribal clothing, they were clad in iron armour, wielded sharp blades and were well trained.

"It's the Mamluks!"

Ashraf watched the Mamluks win battle after battle, a smile appearing on his lips.

His plan was as follows: first, use tribal people and local private armies to launch a full-scale attack, confusing the enemy and tying up their reserve forces.

Then, the elite Mamluks would dress up as tribal people to lull the enemy into a false sense of security.

When the battle began, the attackers would gain a momentary advantage and gradually expand it, rolling the snowball of victory.

Isaac saw that the western section of the city walls was in dire straits and thought to himself, 'This is bad.'

He had few reserves left.

Looking around, he saw that the enemy forces attacking the city had discovered the breach in the western section of the city wall. They desperately tried to hold back the defenders, preventing them from returning to reinforce the city.

"Imperial Guard, follow me!"

Isaac drew his sword and led his 300-strong guard to the western city wall.

This guard had recently been formed and had not yet seen action, so their combat effectiveness was questionable.

Unlike other commanders, who liked to select the best soldiers from their troops to form their personal guard, Isaac was different.

He always assigned his personal guards to various units as mid-level officers, thereby strengthening his control over the troops.

In his view, he would not be fighting on the front lines himself, so there was no need for his personal guard to be overly elite.

In hindsight, this was a major mistake.

There was no choice but to grit his teeth and charge forward!

Isaac looked towards the southern sky.

...

South of Tobruk, in a deserted valley.

Eldosh and the Slave legions were stationed here.

When Yaroslav and Count Adnan carried out their scorched earth policy, they deliberately left this water source, surrounded by no man's land, as a backup.

Enemy scouts saw that the surrounding area was a wasteland and did not investigate further.

Any tribesmen who ventured in were captured to prevent them from leaking information.

Scouts reported back.

"Legion Commander! This morning, the besieging enemy launched a full-scale attack, and almost all of the defenders have been wounded!"

After investigating, they found that the enemy cavalry were all stationed in the direction of Green Mountain, with few in the south, posing no threat.

It made sense — who would care about a desolate no-man's land? "Legion Commander, please give your orders!"

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