Where is Their Sultan?

Seventh of April, near two month into the siege.

Another usual day of endless shelling from the Ottoman artilleries, big or small, made of various sizes.

The only thing different is that the biggest cannon of them, the Basilica, remained silent throughout the entire day.

Mehmed, already frustrated by reports of suspicious activities at the borders by those Christendom and potential signs of internal strives by land lords throughout the question, came here for an inspection and in the meantime, question the gunners.

"Why is the gun not firing?" Mehmed approached in big steps from behind, while the group of men operating the canon are busy cooling it down by wiping it with pieces of dampened cloth.

An artillery operator, looking to be in his sixties, with a severely hunched pair of shoulders, swollen knuckles, with darkened skins and nails went out to explain. "My utmost honourable Sultan, please take a look at this, and you will understand."

The operator ushered the Sultan to the lower section of the barrel where the gun powder is ignited sending the shells flying. Apparently there is a tiny crack on the outer metal casting of the barrier that might not seem to be obvious enough to be taken into serious consideration by people who knows nothing about the crafts of artilleries.

Such as Mehmed.

"What do you want me to see over here? I am asking you why is my beast not firing? Are you on the Roman's side?"

"No! No no no my sultan! My loyalty to you is as high as the sun and moon, as bright as the stars, as truthful as my faith to the mighty god! Please pardon me my mighty Sultan, wish victory and accomplishment always accompany you on the path…"

"Stop bullshitting, tell me your story of your incompetency."

"Yes, my Sultan, but please look at this crack over here…" The old gun smith led the Sultan to the barrel and pointed towards the crack hidden well among the burnt metal layering. "Look at this! My most knowledgeable, forgiving Sultan, look at this crack, but if the canon continued firing, there is a potential chance that it will explode blowing everything in the surrounding, igniting all the gun powders and create a chain detonation in the compound! My Sultan! Please listen to my honest advice! I beg you!"

Mehmed, already suffering a bit of paranoia from the tragic defeat a few days back, retorted without hesitation. "You, you little twit, you promised me that you will tear down those walls for me, didn't you, that is exactly why I paid you those ducats for! Do your job, if you are still a follower of the prophet, fulfill the prophecy, fetch my city,"

"But my Sultan…"

"Fine, if you cannot do the job, I shall do it for you, now Janissaries, get him out of my way!" i

"…"

"Janissaries! I summon thee!"

It did take a while before Sultan Mehmed suddenly recalled that now he got no more janissaries at his disposal, thinking about this, his lissome fingers sunk deeply into his skin of his hand palm as he clenches his fist trying to control his sadness and guiltiness, his entire body shook in a way that no viziers have ever seen before, the faces of every single Janissary commander Mehmed knows looms around him, especially that of Ulubatlı Hasan. With these faces looming inside his head, he is suddenly filled with the rage for revenge, before everything else, even before his virtues of intellect and reason, which he was known for last time.

"Guards! Get this traitor out of my way! I shall revenge for my brothers today, prepare the canons! I shall send every single canon filled with curses and my rage upon the Romans!"

With the elder gun smith gone for good, the rest of the artillery operators dare not to defy their Sultan's will not wanting to follow their teacher's example. They hurriedly loaded everything up the gigantic menace in sequence praying desperately in their hearts that everything will go per normal this time.

However, trouble is brewing.

The elder gun smith's advice is thoroughly right.

As the operators fill the gun powder into the barrier through the tube, there is already a tiny amount of gun powder sipping out of the crack but Mehmed couldn't care less about it. The operators then inserted the canon ball and stuffed it further inside with a stick compressing the space in between hoping the crack will not be expanding any further. The sense of nervousness and anxiety filled the air as Mehmed himself followed the instructions as he inserted the fuse at the back of the canon and ignited it.

"Please, my Sultan, I urge you to stay at a further distance, even we do not trust this weapon when it goes out of a sound mind!"

However, Mehmed, as confident as he ever is, stepped one step closer to the canon as he watches the fuse becoming shorter and shorter. "No, I am perfectly fine, I have the protection and blessings by Allah, because I will be the destined one to fulfill the Great Prophet's Hadith, I will be…. I will be…"

"Yes… My Sultan." The gun smith gulped and ran to the back.

Among the two viziers, Zaganos Pasha faithfully followed after his Sultan going out of the barricade behind the Sultan, while Candarli Halil Pasha sneered and went back by several steps into safety.

The fuse burnt shorter and shorter.

All of a sudden, there came a cracking noise from the barrel's metal plating as people in the surrounding watch with horror in their eyes, a terrible crack is formed on the cannon barrel with bright sparks and gruesome growling sound coming from inside. Before they know it, an explosion came spreading into a micro hell producing an echo shaking the Earth as if it is the anguished wraith of the old god warning the people for waking him up.

The gigantic canon exploded wiping out almost everything in the surrounding, blinding and covering everything in smoke, but people could not care less about their almost blinded eyes and deafened ear drums, they only care about one thing.

Where is their Sultan?