Chapter 28
Crossing the Black Sea and sailing down the Bosphorus had been undertaken without significant event.
That is to say, if one did not count the taking of three Ottoman warships as an event; two galliasses and a dhow used as a tender. The Commonwealth advance fleet had swiftly overrun the Ottoman vessels, to make sure they could not report back to Constantinople about a large fleet on the high seas. It had been why they sailed directly; there was less chance of being spotted. Now, the former slaves were free, and joined the main Commonwealth fleet to add cannon, and carry out more people, as they had to assume some slaves at least would want to be liberated.
The Bosphorus was a narrow channel between the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmara. It was almost forty staje long, and though it was almost five staje wide at the entrance, they would be stopping at the narrowest part, barely a staja wide. There was a fortress on each side.
"Bugger, I forgot the second," said Jurko.
"Do we need to abort the mission?" asked Helena.
"The hell we do," said Jurko. "Change of plan; we'll leave some men to open fire on the other fortress when the rest of the fleet arrives."
"What if they fire back?"
"Let them; we're taking the bigger, newer fort, they are firing uphill, and it keeps them from firing at the fleet. Once they are past, our lads can just leave it. Double-shot and double-charge the cannons, to make sure they can't be used again. No plan survives contact with the enemy."
"It's bigger than I remember," said Helena, uncertainly, looking up and then up some more at the walls of the castle set on the hill by the shore.
"So they'll be all the more confident that nothing can hurt them," said Jurko. "Down below, my love, and into the barrels with our kit."
"So, you, Helena, Michaś and Juryk are going to be squashed into the barrels, and I have to act like a rich merchant bribing them; why wasn't I in a barrel?" asked Kuryło.
"Because you're too big," said Jurko.
"You're no dainty piece yourself," said Kuryło.
"No, but I can live with the contortions," said Jurko. "And if they saw me, well, my face is well known. It would blow our cover."
"Point," said Kuryło. "How are you going to manage?"
"By being very, very quiet. We're hunting Janissaries," said Jurko.
It was going to be pretty unpleasant. But less unpleasant than any of the slow ways to die the Janissaries might come up with if they caught them. And they had a serious enough job to do that even the lads were awed into silence.
It was uncomfortable and stuffy in the barrel, but that was to be endured. At least there was more room for his chosen crew; and Jurko had permitted his brother and Juryk to come along on grounds of their size. Also it kept them under his eye and away from sassing the customs guards, who had even less of a sense of humour than Janissaries might usually be supposed to have. They were having to be careful of the distilled Hungarian pepper oil which was to be tested here. If it worked as Jurko hoped, it improved the chance of taking Jedi Kule.
Jurko slipped open the concealed air hole for a bit more fresh air. It could be shut in an emergency, in case too close an inspection was made, but might remain open most of the time. The Janissaries had tasted, and appreciated the mead, and Kuryło pulled off a masterly performance of bribery, in which he offered three barrels and seemed to conceal the one with Jurko in.
There was enough space at the top to get a dipper in for a particularly fine vintage, and not surprisingly, the Janissaries demanded this one too. Kuryło started to protest, and subsided as the number of possible delays which could be made were listed.
"My caviare must be my first priority," said Kuryło, spreading his hands in the universal gesture of a merchant's defeat in the fine game of haggling.
One of the merchant ships had a number of divers, apparently making repairs to the rudder, so that they might stay at the base of the castle. Some of their numbers would man the guns.
Being carried into the castle was exquisitely uncomfortable. At least they knew better than to risk bruising mead, and the casks were manhandled relatively gently into an upright position. Jurko knew enough Arabic to figure out that one of the guards spoke longingly of sunset, when they might broach the casks. Of course! It was during their fast period... that was why they had tasted, but spat out the mouthful which they tried. They could not eat or drink until the sun had set.
Well, that was good, the casks would be left somewhere and their occupants could get out, and hide until there was enough darkness to implement the plan.
oOoOo
Pułkownik Korwiński was a happy man. His king had come himself to inspect his preparations, and to make one or two suggestions! A small stream was diverted to make a swamp, and before it was made, a narrow causeway was made, which would be below the surface of the swamp water. The Ottomans did not have Tatars this time, but they had akinci, raiding irregular horsemen, not elites like the Sipahi, but potentially a danger to the supply lines. And the king listened to him, discussed his ideas, and gently pointed out the ones which were not feasible and expanded on those which were. And loaned him some Cossacks who were used to digging.
"You want to make caches of supplies, lad," said Jeremi. "Wrapped well in oiled cloth against damp and animal depredations; in jars if you can get them. Clean water is essential, and though you're using wells at your various posts, leave a canteen of water, with a little vinegar in it to keep it fresh, at every node of your tunnels. It might save your life. Clean your teeth and wash your hands and wounds with wódka and you need fear nothing. Dig latrine pits within your tunnels so you can use them and throw earth on them immediately so you are not betrayed by smell. Leave a blanket wrapped in a tarpaulin with plenty of light rope at every exit, so you can pick it up and have a makeshift tent."
"Your majesty, you are amazing!" stammered Korwiński. A smile touched the monarch's lips.
"Jurij and I discussed what we might have done had the invasion from Sweden been more thorough," he said. "Indeed, we discussed it in relation to Chocim. I suggest you also learn how to use a lasso and an arapnik. Lovely silent weapons to use from positions of concealment."
"And from above!" said Korwiński. "I've got rope bridges between some of the larger trees, they don't show in the canopy, and scouts could be made to just disappear!."
"The terrain is your friend; embrace it and live with it, move through it as though you belong, and it will protect you, and fight with you," said Jeremi. "One of Jurij's maxims."
oOoOo
Timofey Chmielnicki sniggered and turned to his new friend, Timur. They lay in reeds in an inlet, where they had rowed in a skiff from the ships they had used to reach the marching Ottomans more readily.
"Now do you see why we used ships, not horses? We can be on them, cause mayhem, and be away without trouble, without being heard to approach, and no horse to kill under us."
"Allah is good," said Timur. "He lets us learn each other's ways. I have thirty arrows with me, so thirty of them are dead men."
"I have my arapnik, so as many as I may approach are dead men," said Timofey. "That tent is rich, we shall kill all around it, bring it down on the occupant, and then roll away the sides to loot everything we can carry."
"I like the way you plan," said Timur. Several pairs of Cossacks and Tatars were making similar plans, each picking a target. It was nuisance raiding. But as Bohdan Chmielnicki had said, the mightiest warrior will still limp if his toes are nibbled off by mice.
oOoOo
"Your majesty? Surely you were not coming with us?" said Lubomirski, taken aback.
"I am indeed," said Gryzelda. "I am missing my husband. Marysieńka is coming with me. Don't worry; young Sobieski is acting as our escort, you won't have to put yourself out."
"I'm going to war, your majesty," said Lubomirski.
"It will take the Turks at least another month to get there, even if they started early," said Gryzelda. "I plan to make an inspection and a flying visit and then return to Warszawa. I suppose Skrzetuski is with Jurij, or I'd bring Zuzanna."
"Last I heard, he was," said Lubomirski, who kept an eye on royal favourites.
"Lady Janina Zagłoba will be there," said Marysieńka. "She has the Russian children with her, and I expect Uncle Jeremi will want us to bring them back to Warszawa."
"Indeed," said Gryzelda. "He wrote that he would send Janina back when it was convenient, so I will be convenient."
"Yes, your majesty," said Lubomirski, relieved at least that the queen was not staying for any siege which might ensue. She was needed in Warszawa to limit the Sejm.
He thought to himself, 'I can't believe I just expressed that opinion and meant it.'
But then, as Jeremi had once pointed out, anyone who called a veto to exert his golden rights was like a man who pointed a finger, and had three pointing back at himself as he trod on the golden rights of others. Debating over a called veto did actually work; he had tested it out himself, twice, and on both occasions a mutually beneficial compromise had been reached.
He resigned himself to going slow for the queen, and found himself surprised.
oOoOo
"I still say it will alert them all," muttered Timur. "Whoever heard of an owl calling at the end of April?"
"You know that; I know that," said Timofey. "All the lads know that. Which is why we can use it because no real self respecting owl is still looking for a shag at this time of year. But we're dealing with city folk, who might even think a genuine owl call is a werewolf."
"Oh, well, if it alerts them, we just have a bit more excitement," said Timur, philosophically.
Timofey nodded, and then, as all was quiet, gave the owl hoot.
Several dozen Cossacks and Tatars moved through the reed beds, almost silently; and on a second hoot, arrows hummed, and arapniki struck. All the camp guards died, silently, without knowing they were under attack.
Each pair then moved to their chosen target, pulling out tent pegs until tents descended. Shouts in the night would soon alert other Ottomans, so the next phase was rapid. Grab anything which looked valuable, stuff it into sacks brought for the purpose, and get back to the skiffs to glide silently down the stream and out to sea, to join the Cossack flotilla. Everyone would have a chance to raid. A long, coastal march was a gift to looters, and if they moved inland, why, there were plenty of streams and rivers. To add to the confusion, the Tatars were using arrow heads of the style used by Moldavian archers, no longer a force to be reckoned with, but it was worth while letting the Ottomans think they were dealing with partisans from the interior, rather than having them look to the sea for their assailants. Timofey reflected that it would be interesting to see how the next lot of guards were deployed. If guarding against attack by land, it was worth sneaking a bit further to make it seem the attack was from the forests they must pass through.
He sniggered as they withdrew, giving another owl hoot to call back his lads, before the Ottomans could put together enough of a defence to cause casualties.
They would not raid every night, of course; nor even every other night. His father would throw a die to determine the number of days between. That way, the Ottomans could never second-guess when they would raid, and would have to be alert all the time. Which would not do their morale any good at all.
oOoOo
All was silent, and Jurko quietly opened the hidden door on the side of his barrel. Hidden door was a grandiose term, it being a trapdoor held on with bolts on the inside. He picked up the bundle of kit, and looked around.
They were in a store room of some kind, with a small window of pierced metal, some kind of larder.
"You can come out," he said. "Time for us to play."
"That's authentic Jurij," said Michaś, emerging. "We should have had a code word, Jurij, to make sure it was you, not some Turk opportunistically calling us in the names of our loved ones, like Helena of Troy called to the men in the Trojan Horse."
"It's a good point," admitted Jurko. "History teaches us a lot and if these damned Janissaries knew 'Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes' they might well have said that it was safe now, only for us to emerge under threat from weaponry. Right; put on your protective mask and gloves."
With pure glass, Jurko had had masks made to cover faces, with padded leather all round, to fit snugly, glass across the eyes, and at the mouth and nose, quilted linen soaked in soda ash to counteract the acidic fumes he fondly hoped would arise from the oil distilled from Hungarian peppers. They each carried parcels of gunpowder in linen bags, the tops soaked in saltpetre, like slow match. These would have a vial of the oil poured on them before being lit and thrown. At worst, they would produce a lot of smoke from the burning gunpowder. At best? Jurko hoped that those caught in the smoke would find the oil dispersed in it sufficiently acrid to do little but cough.
Studying a little alchemy had been great fun; it had so many applications to warfare.
"My mask is tight; it hurts," complained Michaś.
"Good; if it's tight enough to hurt, it won't let anything in," said Jurko.
He led his small band through the nether regions of the living quarters, avoiding slaves and servants, until they came to what appeared to be the main mess hall, a small door here for the serving of food, and another, out into the courtyard.
"Helena, throw one from here, and join us. I'll sling in a grenade first; we don't really want prisoners if we can avoid it," he said.
She nodded as he kindled a length of slow match as a portfire for each of them, and waited whilst he led the boys round to the now mostly dark courtyard.
Jurko cut a length of slow match for one of the grenades he carried, lit it, kicked open the door, and lobbed it in.
He had cut the fuse well short, and there was scarce time for yells of fear and horror before it exploded.
Then he threw in a smoke bomb, well soused in hungarian pepper, as Helena, who had sheltered from the blast before coming to the door, threw hers.
She slammed the door shut and pulled a chest she could see across it, and ran to join her husband. Servants pouring out of their quarters nervously took one look at the masked figure, screamed "Allah!" and fled.
Well, that was a bonus.
