What the fuck was I drinking that I had such a hangover?... No, I didn't drink anything... just some apricot juice, and then the Turks came... a battle and then, I was wounded and some bastard hit me in the head from behind.
They did not fight honorably, I understand that several against one... but to attack a wounded man from behind... Maybe they were pissed off that I was killing their injured colleagues, but even that is no excuse.
I tried to open my eyes, had a hard time doing it, felt as if my eyelids were lead... and then the world spun.
"Lord, are you alive?" (Ilya)
I gathered my strength, or at least what I had left.
"Give me something to drink... and don't say anything and don't breathe so loudly." (MC)
Moments later Ilya brought me a cup of some liquid. I didn't care what it was, right now I would even drink some piss.
"Maybe I can help you?" (Ilya)
"I'll be fine... what happened?" (MC)
"You've been wounded..." (Ilya)
What a fucking genius. I already knew that much. His next discovery will be that the sun is shining?... I looked at him like he was an idiot and I guess he understood that I wasn't asking about that, but about what came next.
"Our men from the second camp arrived. You were surrounded by Janissaries, but our cavalry ran into them and scattered them away before they could kill you..." (Ilya)
So I was lucky... I have no reason to complain, I'm alive and breathing, although with difficulty. It could have been worse, I remember Turks with spears who wanted to turn me into a shashlik.
"You were unconscious for a week. We were not sure if there were any more Turks in the area, so we dressed your wounds, and the next day made a stretcher, and headed for Trebizond." (Ilya)
So Ilya wasn't an idiot, transporting me like this was dangerous, but the Ottomans were a greater risk to my life.
"You did well, now leave me alone I need to rest." (MC)
After Ilya left my quarters, I did a quick test ... and luckily I wasn't crippled, the most important organ was working. It took me three days to get out of bed, I was wearing more bandages than a fucking mummy... and I was moving like one of them. I summoned Ilya to my quarters.
"Any news from our army?" (MC)
"Yes, Saddat, Selim and the others are back. We've lost several thousand Tatars, but not counting these losses, a complete success. Erzrum, Sinop are under our control, Sivas only partially. The Ottomans defend themselves only in a few cities." (Ilya)
"Good, very good, we have a lot of Tatars, a few thousand less does not make a difference... And what is the situation in the city?" (MC)
"People are not satisfied, but obey, except for the few single incidents of attacks on our people." (Ilya)
"I do not understand single and few? One attack is a coincidence, few attacks can also be a coincidence... but maybe someone is inciting people." (MC)
"I see, we have them in custody... Does the Lord want to question them himself?" (Ilya)
"No, take care of it yourself. Now I don't have the strength to do it, and I can't look at a tortured person... if that person is being tortured by someone other than me. Then you can make an example of them... best to hang them by the rib on the hook. People need to understand that every action has consequences." (MC)
Interrogating the prisoners showed that no one had incited them to attack... or Ilya had asked questions incorrectly. The man was hanged in public and the increase in food prices was announced, not big but only few pennys... well, as Adam Smith wrote "the invisible hand of the market."
In the days and weeks that followed, I ordered the frequency and distance of our attacks to be increased, villages, settlements and cities were plundered and burned, and the people were driven west towards Constantinople. I had no intention of dealing with the civilian population of the Ottoman Empire, this task belonged to the Sultan, he would be responsible for feeding them all and providing them with conditions for survival... My only fear was that my actions would strengthen the sultan's army, even a peasant with an ax can to be a dangerous man, let alone an army of peasants. However, the solution was simple, every boy and man between the ages of 12 to 60 was deprived of his right arm... although the scale of this action was not large, it affected a maximum of 30,000 men.
"At last I can get rid of these bandages..." (MC)
The scar on the abdomen did not look bad, it was no more than twelve or thirteen centimeters. Unfortunately, the one on the face looked worse, especially under the right eye on the cheek... Luckily I'm not an Instagram model.
"Lord doesn't have to worry about it... as they say, it will heal by the wedding." (Ilya)
"Now are you starting? Every time I meet my uncle it reminds me of the wedding... If you want to drink wine, I'll buy a jug, not the whole vineyard." (MC)
"It's just a saying..." (Ilya)
"Then find another saying... and seriously, are the troops ready?" (MC)
"Yes, people are waiting for orders. Only a few thousand Cossacks will stay in the city to keep order." (Ilya)
"We're going west tomorrow, but send scouts first, I don't want any more surprises. We also have to get ships somewhere and get all the looted goods to the Crimea." (MC)
Whether I wanted it or not, we had to move west... I did not know how the army of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was doing in the north. I also had no idea where the Sultan's army was, and although sitting on the Black Sea coast is pleasant, it will not win the war.