"You request my presence at the Olympic Games, and for that reason you have sent envoys. For myself, I would come for the spectacle of physical struggle, except that I would be abandoning the greater struggle for virtue."
- Apollonius of Tyana, Epp. Apoll. 24
"Sports event?" Antonius asked back. "You mean some thing like the ball games our boys used to play by the ports?"
"Aye, admiral. A sports competition between various camps should be able to motivate their morales briefly… But, the most important thing is that we need to show some progress at the front line before winter ends, and it must be a victory, not a defeat."
"I know, I know." Antonius forced a smile and gently pushed Julian out of his tent. "I will figure out a way out of the current situation, don't worry my friend… Go get some sleep, look at those red eyes you have."
"Thanks admiral." Julian made a slight bow outside the tent and left, leaving Antonius behind staring blankly in to the darkening sky, where a new round of crescent is slowly illuminating its shadows on the Earth replacing the light of the Sun. Antonius walks around his tent with his hands crossed behind his back taking in some fresh air, relieving that fret and humidness he got seating for the entire day in his commanding tent.
When he walked to the corner where he usually liked to have a view of the compound, Antonius is surprised that this spot has already been occupied by two fellow guards who are taking a bit of relaxation here by chattering. Antonius did not leave this place immediately, as he had the habit of peeking in to the inner minds of his men by listening to their conversation in secret, they will always say some thing that they will not say in front of their commanders… Well, there is no such thing called privacy in this era, at least not in an army camp.
"I don't think that the war is ending soon… How am I going to prepare my seeds for the next ploughing season? My wife and my child surely cannot plough those seeds by themselves…"
"What about me? Not only does I have six acres of land to plough by only myself, I still have a fancee back in my home town that I planned to marry this month, then I got drafted in to this damned war… seating here all day eating rations but doing nothing."
"I came here with the hope to gain some loot, or at least the head of some Ottoman pricks to get myself promoted, and brag in front of my family members. But I totally did not expect it to end up like this… Winter is passing soon, but what have we achieved?"
"Heh! Watch your words!" The man bushed his buddy slightly. "Mind your words, we are not those conscripted folks who knows nothing other than complaining and eating up more rations, we are professional war fighters who started following the admiral since Constantinople…"
"I know, I know, relax man. All the things I have now is because of the admiral, mark my words if the admiral wants me to charge in to those Ottoman pricks and die for him I would comply with out any resistance, but you see, the problem with this battle now is that we are not showing any progress… Things are not going to end well if the situation goes on like this for us."
"Then what do you wish for?" Asked the buddy nervously. "You are not trying to mean…"
"I mean, if we are stuck here, why can't we call for a retreat? Come on, you and I are not ignorant towards what is happening with this damned war, we aren't going any where!"
Antonius listened silently to the argument of the two buddies behind a cart of hay stack folding his arms, with numerous thoughts running wild in his mind. But after a while he decided to leave these two men alone knowing that his sudden appearance might scare the souls out of them, and trudged back to his camp, spending his night with his brain messed up containing a mixture of various feelings, like anxiety, dismay, irritation, hesitation and uncertainty about the future.
Antonius laid still in his bed until he realised that it is already early morning with the first rays of sun light shining in to his tent through the curtains. Then did he realise that it is already early morning, climbed down his bed going out of the tent, and met with the two guards chattering outside last time, who are now standing duty outside of his tent. The two guards stood straight and saluted their admiral by punching their chest with their fist. Antonius nodded and saluted back with out uttering a single word for what he heard from them the night before.
Just as Antonius is about to go out to the walls and check on the Ottomans he saw his old friend Anjelo running towards him, showing an agility totally unlike a man of his age. Feeling surprised he stopped in his tracks and asked. "What is the problem, old man? Coming here for a short morning exercise session with me?"
"Admiral! Antonius" Anjelo stopped there and panted for a brief while. "The Ottoman flag of the white horse… The Ottoman Sultan's flag… is spotted by our scouts right on the front line, merely less than one Roman mile from our troops! This is a great opportunity! Admiral!"
Hearing this Antonius frowned, and then bursted in to a wild laughter towards the sky, sighed and commented. "It seems like our new opponent, that thirteen year old boy and whoever that is supporting him at the back really do have some guts, perhaps they are an opponent that is worth a fight… Get my mount! I will scout the front lines myself!"
Antonius, Anjelo and his guards climbed on to their horses and rode towards the scouting points that has already been visited by them for countless times. He stood there and gazed at the Ottoman encampment, just from a general's perspective of view he can see that there is now so much difference in the Ottoman front line encampment ever since their Sultan has arrived. The sound and cries of Ottoman war fighters training again after almost a month, their patrols have washed and wiped their honour banners clean setting them flying again in the winter wind, and the carts that goes in and out of the camp daily transporting those who are getting sick from camp plagues have gone far lesser, all of these signifies that ever since their Sultan has arrived there has been a significant growth in the morales and fighting spirit of the Ottomans.
As Antonius gazed at the Ottoman Sultan's white horse, remembered something and sighed. "Why is the Ottomans always getting one after another capable ruler for the past hundred years, while we keep on getting emperors who knows nothing in their heads other than civil war, intrigues, plots and enjoy lavish lives? There must be something wrong over here…"
"Admiral we can leave this question aside for now." Interrupted Anjelo with a greater sense of urgency. "But what do we do now? Do we…"
The old man showed a hand sign of slicing his neck with his hand.
"Can you guarantee that it would happen?"
"Thirty percent." Anjelo replied. "It sounds pretty damn low, but in our theatre of war any thing that has a possibility higher than ten percent is worth a try, do we…."
Antonius thought for a while and flatly denied this proposal shaking his head. "No, old man, we cannot do that. I know that there is a hidden rule between the rulers and monarch of various states in this region ever since the Ottomans came, that is disputes can only be settled on the battle field or diplomatic negotiation tables… If we become the first to start the trend of solving problems through assassinations and raids, it would cause a series of unexpected political chaos and perhaps even ultimately lead to me getting assassinated."
"But what are we going to do?" Asked Anjelo again. "Do we just seat here and watch that kid motivate our enemies? Give us an even harder time?"
"If we attack now it would only make them fight more persistently without pulling back just to guarantee of their Sultan's safety, we cannot launch an attack now… Actually, old man, I too have no idea on what to do next."
"Fine, admiral. Then if we are not going to launch a final attack…" Anjelo gave a suggestion that startled Antonius. "Then how about we start a discussion and decide the possibility of calling for a safe retreat?"
Antonius frowned and continued standing there without uttering a single word, while Anjelo too, after he said these, stood there behind Antonius looking towards afar.
The Sultan's white horse flag continued flying high beneath their eyes.