A Few Coins Always Do The Trick
"It did not please me, either, that the Christians and the princes were driven, urged, and irritated into attacking the Turk and making war on him, before they amended their own ways and lived like true Christians."
- Martin Luther, on war against the Turks
"Boys! Sons of Osman! Proud horses of the Transoxiana steppe! Faithful followers of the true God! Disciples of the Great Holy Prophet! I summon thee! Let me hear your calls!" Zaganos Pasha continued crying out.
"Honourable Pasha! For the Sultan! Allah Hu Akbar!"
Zaganos Pasha rose both of his arms towards the sky. "Cheer! Brothers! For I shall lead you once more into battle, eliminate those infidels who dares to step onto the lands that is gifted to us by the true God! I shall bring honour and wealth to all of you! As long as you stay with me, never back off, and…. Enjoy the slaughter!"
"Hooray!"
"Now move off! Back to your respective camps, assemble your forces, I want to see you, all of you, packed and ready to march off towards battle in four hours time! And we shall surprise our foes! Anyone has any questions?"
"I do! Honourable Pasha!" The chieftain who bumped into Zaganos Pasha a while ago raised his hands in question. "Are we allowed to capture slaves after the battle is concluded?"
Zaganos Pasha laughed tossing a hard bread towards the chieftain with the later catching it and gobbling it down grinning towards Zaganos Pasha. "You greedy old bastard, normally I would have approved your request, but tonight I am sorry, I can't, because I am going to make a deal with one of the Crusaders."
The chieftain looks a little disappointed. "Without new slaves my tribe is going to run out of slaves soon after the old slaves die… Looks like we got to give them three breads per day instead of two."
"You gluttonous arse! Treat your slaves better! They are your properties!" Another Yaya officer gave the chieftain a smack on the back.
After a round of jokes and jeers, Zaganos Pasha stopped laughing and ordered. "Enough! Now all of you! Get going!"
"Yes! Honourable Pasha!"
…
Meanwhile before a side gate of the Serbian camp, where people usually dump corpses of deceased soldier who died from plagues or diseases inside the camp. Rats, roaches, flies scatter around this area enjoying their own version of an exquisite feast undisturbed, beneath these wicked creatures lying dozens of decaying corpses left in an abandoned pit hole.
Suddenly, a small rat crawled out of the eye socket of a long dead decomposing man standing up looking at a distance away sensing something big is incoming on the way, and indeed it is right, three riders covered in hood rode their way to this place of nature covering their noses with a piece of cloth that has already been soaked through perfume.
Just then, the small back door of the camp opened with two soldiers coming out pushing a cart and dumping three more bodies, one still breathing faintly, into the pit hole. Seeing this, the riders approached and stopped these corpse dealers in a weird unfamiliar Serbian language.
"Hey! Friend!"
The corpse dealers looked at the riders alarmingly, with their hands already on the grip of their falchion blade.
"Hey! Friend! We are not suspicious people!" The first rider got off the horse and scuttled towards the two corpse dealers. "We are friends, a local merchant who wants to see our friends inside this place…"
The hooded man dug into the hands of the corpse dealer which is ridden with the smell of decay. The latter felt that it is something heavy and looked downwards and is utterly shocked when he realised that it is a handful of pure golden ducats.
"Hey, friend, can you please… offer us some convenience?" The hooded man requested to the corpse dealer with a fawn smile on his face.
The corpse dealer spoke no words, instead he shook the ducats in his hand listening to the tikling sound and looked back at the hooded man's pouch.
"Unsatisfied greedy twit." The hooded man cursed inside his mind but still handed over another handful of ducats to the other hand of the corpse dealer with the same fawny smile on his face.
The corpse dealer laughed back revealing the whole set of yellowish rotten teeth with a grim smell that is even worse than the decaying scent of corpses. "We, welcome friends, generous friends like you over here, please, welcome in, if anyone on patrol questions you, remember the code name for today is 'loyalty to the king and God.', the guards will then free you of any trouble."
The hooded man chuckled inside his hear but never changed his expression on his face. "Thank you, kind friend, you are such a tender, amiable, understanding and sympathising friend."
"Say no more, friend." The corpse dealer gave the other handful of ticking coins to his pal. "It is a real miracle that you can find this gate in the first place… Who would reject these cute little coins in the first place."
"Indeed…"
The three hooded riders strolled into the camp of Serbian crusaders right under broad daylight right through multiple patrols and checks along the main road straight towards the centre of the camp, where the main tent of the Serbian Despot, Durad Branković ought to be.
There are some rather cautious patrols who approached them for checks of course, but all dispersed and went away after the three hooded riders reiterate the code name and claiming that they are important local Christian messengers coming here to deliver a message for his majesty.
Although the patrolling guards did have some suspicion on these folks who speaks Serbian in a rather bizarre and foreign accent, but they could not bother to do anything more about it since these folks got the correct code name.
And thus, the three hooded men entered the Despot's camp without any trouble.