… and the Unthinkable Happened
Emperor Constantine was still in bed in his Blachernae palace of that April 13rd 6961 AM (April 23rd 1452 in the Gregorian calendar). His mind was going in circles trying to find ways to survive the Ottoman siege that was threatening the city for over two weeks. Constantinoble was the last bastion of the Roman Empire, just a tiny territory of what had been the biggest power humankind had seen to date. His hope to receive support from Rome and Venetia was vanishing. T he miraculous Theodosian walls - over a thousand years old - were holding well to Sultan Mehmed’s new weaponry. But the scarcity of resources, both in terms of army and food, would require a magic solution. He did not want to be known as the Emperor who lost Constantinoble. Suddenly, in the midst of these thoughts, the sound of somebody knocking on his bedroom door resonated throughout the big chamber as yet another Ottoman bomb. That was unusual. He was the emperor. Who was to bother an emperor with such insi...