Chapter 41:Towards the Battle

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The Ottoman army marched along cobblestone roads that carried the grandeur of old times, blending seamlessly with the surrounding nature. The first rays of dawn painted the swaying leaves in golden hues, while birds' melodies harmonized with the rustling of the wind, creating a song of awakening. The rhythmic clatter of horseshoes echoed the discipline and resolve of the soldiers, a testament to their leader's strength. At the front, Osman advanced, his golden-embroidered armor catching the sunlight, making him appear less like a ruler and more like a living legend.

As they passed through villages near the capital, the excitement among the people was palpable. Children ran along the roads, calling out in joy, while women whispered prayers from their windows. Farmers paused their work, standing in salute. Yet Osman's gaze did not linger solely on these warm greetings. He observed the unnoticed details—the weary hands clutching the soil, the sunken shoulders of farmers burdened by silent despair.

The further they ventured from the capital, the sterner Osman's expression grew. Broken cobblestones, crumbling houses, and the hollow-eyed villagers painted a stark picture of a weakening central authority. These sights etched themselves into Osman's mind.

"What good is a sultan's justice if it echoes only within the palace walls?" he pondered. "Justice must take root in the soil itself. Only then can an empire endure."

Osman did not merely observe; he acted. He listened to the grievances of the people and questioned the timar holders, halting whenever he encountered injustice. Oppressors were swiftly punished, earning Osman the trust and admiration of the people. Women prayed for his success, and the elderly declared, "Osman is our salvation." Yet Osman felt the weight of these prayers upon his shoulders.

Meanwhile, the timar holders heard of Osman's approach with mounting dread. They scrambled to convene meetings and devise strategies, but their plans faltered. The timar cavalry delayed their responses, offering excuses or stalling for time. In some regions, rebellions broke out against the timar holders, and groups of supporters awaited Osman's arrival.

When Osman received these reports, he exhaled deeply. "Loyalty must always be absolute," he thought. "But punishing those who refrained from rebellion would mean denying them my justice. Loyalty should be rewarded, yet neutrality must also feel secure."

Osman divided his forces, entrusting the Yeniçeri commander Ali Ağa with leading a campaign against the timar holders in Rumelia. Meanwhile, he advanced into Anatolia. His journey took him through narrow mountain passes and mist-covered valleys, where the natural challenges tested his army's resolve. During their encampments, Osman sat among his soldiers, listening to their stories and drawing strength from them.

"These stories keep me alive," he mused one night. "Each one fuels the foundation of my vision for reform."

As Osman advanced, he reclaimed lands lost to rebellion and subdued timar holders who had hesitated to act. These efforts weakened the rebellion's reach while bolstering Osman's reputation among the people.

Finally, Osman and his army reached the area where the timar holders had gathered. In a clearing where the trees thinned and the wind whipped across dry grass, a small camp of scattered tents came into view. Even from a distance, their disorganization was evident. The tents were haphazardly arranged, and the lack of leadership was palpable.

Osman halted, studying the camp intently. "The chaos here betrays their indecision," he thought. Turning to his commander, he said, "We should allow the army to rest. What do you think?"

The commander nodded. "I agree, my Sultan. We've marched a long way and need to recover our strength. Judging by their disorder, a night attack is unlikely."

Osman gazed at the enemy camp, considering the possibility of negotiations to end the rebellion. With sufficient promises, he could sway them. But his ultimate aim was to dismantle their wealth and influence over local governance. "What value does their wealth hold if it does not serve the empire? If it does not belong to the people, then why does it exist?" he wondered.

For a moment, he reflected on his shortcomings. "Had I expedited the production of flintlock rifles and armed a full unit, I would not hesitate now," he reproached himself. Yet he quickly pushed these thoughts aside, knowing that standardizing production was essential for long-term success.

As the cold wind swept through the clearing, Osman's army set up camp. He kept his gaze fixed on the rebel tents, strategizing for the coming battle.

"The sharper the sword of justice, the steadier the hand that wields it must be," he whispered to himself.

When dawn broke, it was uncertain what kind of confrontation awaited the Ottoman forces and the rebellious timar holders. But the determination in Osman's eyes carried a force that could dispel even the thickest fog of uncertainty.