“Soldier of Venice” Chapter Twelve: August 1526, Action in Budapest

In this chapter the August 1526 battle of Mohacs has not yet taken place. A clandestine force of forty Ottoman soldiers is hiding in Buda on the west side of the Danube, and Julian has been tasked to wipe out this force. He also has a peripheral mission to recover a box of jewels of the owners of the compound, which the family left behind when they fled to Vienna. //

Two hours before midnight the evening of the thirteenth of August, I crouched at the head of the barge—my favorite perch—with a piece of bread in my right hand. I had no desire to eat, but forced myself to chew on the bread, even if any minute I thought I might vomit into the swift-flowing Donau from agitation. I tried to appear composed.

     Around us, the ancient ruins of Aquincun were quiet, even though I knew there were people living amid the fallen arches, in the courtyards, among the peristyles of the antique Romans. My comrade Xanthos approached and in the torchlight I could see a streak of perspiration on his left cheek, though the night was cool.

     “Julian, the men want to know what the plan is.”

     And so did I. Who said I had a plan? “I need Botond,” I said flatly. Botond was our Hungarian scout and translator.

     “He returned a moment ago.”

     “Bring him to me.”

    The scout, who had been thrown out of his childhood village owing to quote, unnatural desires—yet to be elucidated—approached and knelt on one knee. I sent him into the city three hours earlier with a detailed list of things I wanted to know about the Economou compound and the two lots on either side of it.

     “Tell me,” I prompted him.

     After fifteen minutes I told the scout to take a rest and ordered him to send me Emilio. Emilio led the four men with arquebuses, the long gunpowder weapons, whose attendance in our group I viewed as critical, though I wasn’t sure until now what I would do with them. Our company had two varieties of these weapons, one of which rests on a pole when fired, and one variety of which the men simply hold at their shoulder; resulting in a lot of black-and-blue shoulders. Emilio’s men carried the guns without the stands.

     When he arrived, I regarded Emilio impassively. He hailed from Apulia in southern Italy. “Are you ready?”

     “Certainly, sergeante.”

     “Botond tells me about twelve men exited the compound after sunset. He isn’t sure of the exact number.”

     “And so?” 

     “Take your men and hide them north of the Economou gate. We all know what these men will be doing—” Whoring and drinking.

     “Drinking alcohol is proscribed by Islam,” pointed out Emilio. I didn’t know my compai followed such matters.

     “Yes, but these are soldiers. They will do what they will do. Now of course, I have no idea when they might return. Some of them might not return tonight at all. We would welcome that. But I suspect they will return around midnight, and I would expect them to return in a group. Why? These times are uncertain. They are in a hostile city. Terrible things can happen. Let us say they return at midnight. When you see them, you don’t ask them for the password; you don’t ask them to surrender; you step out directly and cut them down. The first word from your lips should be ‘Fire!’”

     “But they will be ten or twelve men. We have five guns.” Including one held by Emilio himself. “How does that work?” It was a reasonable question.

     “Luca,” the second-in-command of our company, “says you five are the best. Can you be the best?”

     Emilio stood up straighter. “Of course, sergeante.”

     “After you fire, at least five men will be down. Two or three might run. That leaves three or four confused men. Drop your weapons and take the remainder with blades. We will already be inside the Economou residence. When we hear the report of the guns, we’ll try and send you help. E chiaro?”

     “It is clear. What if they want to surrender?”

     “We have no time for prisoners. Tell them to get lost.”

     “And if we stand in the dark and no one returns?”

     “Personally, I’ll be crushed. But if we hear no volley at the gate, after we have achieved our objectives, I’ll send someone to fetch you.” I couldn’t imagine that all this would take more than twenty minutes, but who knew… “I expect this to be over in an hour. If no one comes to retrieve you, take that as a bad sign.”

     Meaning, our other teams had already been captured, or we had departed this vale of tears and were standing before Our Maker.

     Emilio laughed.

     “If there is no word from us after an hour—one hour! Make your way back to the barges and take the men downstream. Or just move south.” Hungarian and allied forces marched to the southeast.

     “Capito.” I understand.

     “God protect you. Take your men and go.”

     There were forty of the enemy; forty-one if you counted the leader. If Emilio and his squad could take care of the carousers, one-quarter of the enemy forces would be off the board.

     The next group I wanted to see consisted of nine men I would lead myself. We would take our cue from Claude’s attack on the Montenegrin pirates two years earlier and carry out an ‘attack by escalade;’ throwing our four ladders against the north wall of the Economou compound, and scrambling over. 

     Botond said the Economou walls had no fire-step, from which guards might fire upon us as we ran up. So nothing to this, right? Within the compound, we would then have to deal with the remaining twenty-nine or thirty men. Surely some of these bastards would be asleep? Or at least I could hope they would be half-asleep.

     When I saw the men approaching, I was surprised to see Aloys, the leader of the barge-men, among them.

     “Is something wrong?” I asked.

     “Do you think I’m letting you do everything? I’m coming too. You need me. My boys will take care of the barges.”

     I had seen the damage Aloys could do. On the other hand, he was in some ways an unknown quantity. “Standard practice says you stay. But tonight, since we are so outnumbered: will you carry out orders, without hesitation?”

     “My standard practice would be to say the devil take you, but tonight: whatever you say, mein freund.”

     “Then welcome to the group.” I held out my arm and he clasped my forearm.

     I turned to the rest of the team. “The Economou family compound in Buda has been occupied by a group of the Sultan’s troops. When we go over the wall, there will be approximately thirty men within the perimeter. We’ll take this compound. After we’ve done so, five of you will come with me to a room on the second floor, where we’ll retrieve some items the Economou family left behind. Now let me tell you how about the timing of all this…”

     Unfortunately, since the river-gate of the Economou compound had guards and would be shut, and the west gate of the compound would also be closed, our best avenue of entry into the area would be over the north wall, but for that we had to first secure the house of the neighboring Balogh family—no doubt winning no new friends in the process. 

     It took the better part of an hour to walk into the city. We spoke to no one and sparked no interest among passers-by. Our four ladders would be deposited by a small craft north of the Balogh house—expecting to be able to walk through the city carrying those and provoking no comment was asking a bit much. Both the Balogh and Economou compounds had ten-foot walls, but the lot to the north of the Balogh residence was in ruins. Perfect.

     According to Botond, the Balogh family house had four guards and the head of the family was of an age where you could expect him to have a weapon, so that meant five people to knock-out, tie-up, or neutralize. Our group of ten, now including our barge captain Aloys, assembled at the north wall of the Balogh property. 

     One light flickered on the second floor of the Balogh residence. I heard crickets. No guards were in sight.

     After a prayer, at my signal the group placed the ladders, clambered over, and raced in different directions. The Balogh residence had its own moorage but an open gate. At the rivergate there was but one guard, whom I surprised with blow to the head (we didn’t need to greviously wound anyone in this household, just take them out-of-action for a time). I bound and gagged the guard and went on my way. No sounds from the interior of the house reached my ears.

     I must have taken too much time in tying-up the guard, because when I strode into the main hall the following tableau greeted me: a man about forty years of age stood in front of a table. He wore nightclothes but was pointing a sword at Botond. I supposed “nightclothes” was Balogh. One guard, bound, sat with his back against the wall on the north side of the room. On Balogh’s right stood a younger man, also bearing a sword—another guard. Behind these two, in nightclothes sat two women; the mother and daughter. The daughter, perhaps fifteen years of age, and clutched the dining table as if it were a vessel about to go down in a storm at sea. Besides Botond, five of our men were in the room, ringing around the table, with drawn weapons. Aloys was not among them. Now I heard sounds of a disturbance in the yard, as well as from the second floor.

     This was exactly the kind of scene I didn’t want to see, and we were pressed for time.

     I sheathed my sword and came up beside Botond, hands raised—we’re all friends here! “I take it you are the head of this household?” Botond translated.

     The Hungarian cursed and vociferated. Who could blame him?

     Botond explained calmly: “He says he’ll die defending his house and the honor of his family—this kind of thing. We’ll get no treasure from him!”

     But we had no interest in his residence. We only wanted to pass through. “Relay to him my apologies for disturbing the family. The compound of your neighbors, the Economous, has been occupied by enemies of Hungary. We are here to take it back. All we need is to bind the four of you while we proceed over the Economou wall.” I inclined my head: “I very much regret the inconvenience. We will be gone in an hour and I’m sure by then you will have freed yourselves.

    “And where is the fourth guard. Ask him that.”

     Perhaps my imagination was too active but did Balogh seem disappointed he wasn’t the center of goings-on? Or puzzled. Another bit of shouted defiance ensued, ornamented by a laugh.

     “He says he dispatched one guard to the city garrison on the hill.” This meant the Austrians and their captain. “We’ll all be in chains soon. He demands to know who here is the chief bandit.”

     Had there been time for that? Xanthos was behind me and I turned to him. “Did one guard escape?”

     Xanthos was expressionless. After a pause, a nod. “Or he is hiding.”

     I wondered, would the Austrians venture from their fortified place? And if they did, how many men would they send?

     I sighed and turned back to Botond, withdrawing a scroll from within my tunic: “We have a request that all due assistance be given, requested in the name of His Majesty King Lajos. Slowly, very slowly, I’ll put this on the table near you.” Botond translated.

     I placed the scroll to the left of the head of the household. The lady of the house came around the table, unrolled the item, and held it up in front of her husband, who did not put down his weapon. After he read the message, he seized the item in his left hand and threw it at my feet. 

     “I do not recognize the legitimacy of the so-called King Lajos!” Came Botond’s translation. 

     But he recognized the authority of the Austrian garrison? Did that make any sense?

     This was an example of why Hungary was in a desperate situation: disunity. Something else was odd: our men spoke to each other in Italian and Greek, but Balogh made no note of it. He didn’t ask who we were either. He was a very incurious man. Then I remembered Botond saying something about his people generally learning no other languages: everyone should speak Hungarian!

     “And he asks again, who is in charge of this band. He says it cannot be this boy.” Me.

     I didn’t turn but queried Xanthos: “Where is the second daughter?”

     “Jean went to fetch her.”

     I turned to a younger member of our group, who was behind me. “Go get the two of them. And when you find them, Jean had better have his clothes on. Be quick about it!” We had no time.

     Our compatriot disappeared.

     “We will wait five minutes, sir.” And I was confident everyone would wait, because whatever the extent of Balogh’s righteous anger, he wouldn’t do anything foolish with his wife and daughter sitting there, and with he and his guard so egregiously outnumbered.

     Jean came in leading the girl by the wrist in less than the allotted time. She was about ten years old. Botond said something as the girl ran to her mother and threw her arms around her—and I didn’t need the translation to know he asked if anyone harmed her. She shook her head.

     “He was pulling her out from under the bed when I came in,” explained the comrade we had sent as messenger.

     “So, I think this will be a stand-off, until the guards from the citadel arrive to put you in chains,” Balogh observed.

     That was a greatly mistaken assertion. “Xanthos, go see if that trooper—what is his name, Enrique? Is still outside the door with his firearm. Tell him to come in and level his pistole at the head of the household.” Half the time those things didn’t even fire, but I doubted Balogh knew that.

     Said Enrique had thus far been left out of most of the proceedings tonight. The Spaniard came in and with great enthusiasm, and I might even say some theatric talent, pulled back the hammer and leveled the barrel of his weapon at our host’s head.

     “Now sir, permit us to bind you, and we’ll be on our way. We have no more time.”

     Balogh still looked defiant, but his wife immediately shouted something, an entreaty no doubt, and he deflated. After a face-saving pause (“No one tells me what to do!”) he looked at the guard to his right, nodded, and threw down his sword.

     “Thank you, sir.” I nodded to Botond. “Make them secure.” To the family: “We’ll depart at once. I’m sure you’ll find a way to free yourselves in an hour. Or we may even send someone back to loose the bonds of one person.” Looking around the room, I already saw three methods that could win freedom.

     “Which side of the city gate would you prefer your head to be displayed on?” asked the Hungarian.

     I made no response to that. To our group: “Away!”

Within the Economou Compound

     A church bell rang the midnight hour and it wasn’t long after that I heard two small explosions: these were the grenades of our third group, who had come over the south wall. Thanks to Lady Economou we knew where the bulk of the occupying group would be sleeping, in two rooms. I’m very sorry, enemies. 

     The bell had barely finished tolling when I heard the crash of musketry nearby: Emilio at the west gate dealing with the group of returning carousers, and I hoped they could be taken care of quickly. We had already come over the north wall of the Economou compound without interception and as we heard the gladdening sound of the long guns I was bounding up the broad stairway at the center of the Economou residence. As expected it was a grander house than that occupied by their neighbors. Enrique ran at my side. Minutes earlier someone struck his weapon out of his hands and when it hit the wall the hammer went flying off into the darkness, so that was the end of his pistole. I stopped and held up one hand. To my comrade: “Take three men, open the front gate, and help the gunners. When the enemy out there is done with, all of you come in and help finish mopping-up.” Enrique ran off.

     We came to the closed door of what Lady Economou told me was the master study and library. Four of ours gathered around me. I called out in Turkish: “Tivadar Bey, I’m sure you speak Turkish,” because otherwise, how could he direct his troop of forty? I assumed he had converted to Islam as well. His name meant “gift of God.” And what a gift he was.

     There was no immediate answer from within the room.

      “My name is Julian.” If it had not been disturbed, underneath the floor in front of the desk lay the box of the Economou treasure, which I would retrieve, and I hoped to take Tivadar alive as well.

     “I know who you are,” came the Hungarian’s voice. His tone suggested he took no delight in that knowledge. “Did you think we didn’t have people watching the Economou house in Vienna?”

    I didn’t care. “How many men do you have in there?” I asked conversationally. I counted ten of the enemy missing, but that was merely a guess.

     “Why don’t you come in and find out.”

     So the door was not locked. At that instant, Xanthos appeared at my side. Someone put two torches in the sconces in the stone hallway and figures now appeared in the light: Enrique, Xanthos without his headgear, one of ours with a bound shoulder, still bleeding, and two others. Someone’s blood was on my right sleeve. I hoped it wasn’t mine.

     “Our man at the window down the hall sees torches coming out of the citadel gate,” reported my Xania comrade.

     The Austrian company actually dared to come into the city? Balogh must be more important than I thought. Damn the man. “Numbers?”

     “Unknown, but at least twenty torches. Men on-foot.”

     Say twenty-five minutes for them to wind their way through the city. We would be gone by then.

     “After the arquebusiers conclude their work out front, bar the gate and set five men behind it. And tell Emilio’s gang to reload.”

    Xanthos disappeared.

    To Tivadar: “We’ll come in, but first we’re going to throw in two small explosive devices. Are you familiar with them? They’ll cut down every person in there.” Except for perhaps one or two who might hide behind a desk. Why risk the lives of our men? “Do you understand me?”

     “The box of the Economou baubles you have come for is open on the floor in front of me. Do you want to throw them all over the room too?”

     No I didn’t. This man knew far too much about what we were doing. By now two more of our men had joined us at the door. That made seven of us. “We’re coming in.” 

     I opened the door gently and slipped into the room, with the other six, and later Xanthos, following me. On our side, everyone had a drawn sword, except for one man, who held a pike in front of him. Since our men didn’t carry such a thing, I presumed he had snatched this off a wall or something.

     Facing us were eight men, also with drawn weapons. Now this was a stand-off. Four of the Ottoman soldiers were in nightclothes, and two were wounded. Tivadar, behind the desk, was a bearded man of thirty-five years of age, about my height. He held an arquebus across his chest—which of course rendered it useless, unless he wanted to club me over the head with it. To our left, bookshelves. I wished I had the opportunity to examine the contents.

     “We were expecting you tomorrow,” admitted the Hungarian. “As you can see, the box you seek is on the floor.”

     I remembered that Aloys mentioned he had gotten us near the city about a day early. That was a bit of luck. Where was Aloys, anyway… I looked in front of the desk, and a box inlaid with mother-of-pearl work lay on the floor, opened, and we could all see the glint of the stones inside.

     “While we catch our breath,” I said amiably, “may I have your permission to check the contents?”

     “You will never possess them, but why not, offendi?”

     I approached slowly, knelt on one knee, and counted the stones. Presently I closed the box. “I see twenty-five items. I was told there were twenty-eight.”

     “The Economou ladies have good memories.” Tivadar opened his right hand: what can I say? “Sadiq,” friend, “–our operation also has expenses. The Lord of the Horizon–,” the Sultan, “–has unlimited resources, but we are only the advance guard.”

     “You are certainly very far in the advance… That is one reason we have come calling.” I stood up again and slowly stepped backwards until I and my six compatriots were in something like a line.

     “I thank you for coming to surrender to me in person,” said Tivadar. “You know that you are outnumbered, and these are very good men around me. I’m sorry your attack did not have a better result.” He was mild, solicitous. He belonged on the stage.

     I had heard sounds of a conflict near the front gate, but all was silent now. We were out of time. I glanced to my left and right, and silently mouthed my contrition. Then: “Kill them all! Except for Tivadar.”

     A gun fires, but I don’t think it is the cumbersome weapon Tivadar held, and I don’t know where the shot went. I’m unharmed. The pike on my left flies into the loyal soldier to the right of Tivadar, who doubles over. One of our’s tries to tip the bookcase, but it’s fastened to the wall. The rest is a blur. The mother-of-pearl box is kicked out of sight—precisely what I don’t want to happen; someone grabs a section of my gambeson and flings me around; I duck as a sword hisses over my head; jab some poor wretch in the left side with the the Cretan knife. Curses in Turkish; shouts to yield! But the enemies don’t know the Italian word, so that’s a waste of breath. Someone tries to club me over the head with—is it that arquebus? Sound of a piece of furniture splintering, but I’m simply happy it isn’t me splintering. Ram my shoulder into one enemy in nightclothes against the wall, he hits his head and is stunned. I punch the hilt of the Cretan long knife into his forehead; now he’s more stunned and falling to the ground. “And stay there,” I mutter. Sounds of the door slamming, but did men run out or come in?

     “Hold off, stand off!” Xanthos’ voice.

     As if the smoke cleared—but there had been no smoke–I see the tip of my long sword is at the throat of Tivader, who is half-lying on the desk. Blood flows from his forehead, but he is conscious. “You—”

     “No more talk now,” I told him.

     “Two got out the door,” reported Xanthos.

     “Let them go. You,” I look at one of ours. “Keep this man secure.” I went around the desk, one corner of which was splintered, and searched for the box of jewels. I found it at the foot of the bookcase, but some of the jewels had spilled-out. I ran my hands over the floor, and while I was doing so: “Two men, stand guard outside the door.”

     There were still three or four Ottoman soldiers missing from my count. God knew where they were.

     I counted twenty-three gems and closed the box. It may have been a beautiful piece of work, but it didn’t close very securely. Someone would need to address that. I was still missing two items. Xristos… Never mind, the Economou family could dock my pay for the next hundred years. I called the mission a success.

     Botond appeared at my side as I was standing up, wrapping the box in a cloth, and placing it under my gambeson.

     “Sergeante, we have two men killed, and two more wounded.” And we had no surgeon. “Jean has something he thinks you should see.”

      “We need to get out of here,” I said bluntly.

     “You will want to see this, sergeante.” It was Jean himself who spoke, entering the room.

     What I wanted to see (but not really) was a room on the first floor in the northwest corner of the residence. It looked like it would have been a large pantry, but in it were stacked fifty medium-sized barrels of gunpowder.

     “Good God,” I said.

     Jean said nothing. 

     “Bring me Emilio.” He was the master on gunpowder and its weapons.

     When he arrived, I showed him the store of powder. He raised his eyebrows and nodded, as if this were no surprise. 

     I made a quick decision: “Set a fuse for fifteen minutes and light it. We’ll blow this section of the compound, and if some of the enemy are still hiding, they have my apologies.”

     “Very good, sergeante.”

     “You did well. Did your men reload?”

     “We did. We lost one man.”

     I crossed myself. “Bring all our wounded and dead. Meet me at the moorage in five minutes. Six if you must.”

     “Certo, sergeante.” 

     Torches had been set in all the hallways and our combined group now ran for the dock, where Aloys reported the two barges had appeared per-plan. 

     Botond asked if we should leave the bodies of our fallen comrades where they fell.

     “No. We are bringing them. We can’t cart corpses around Hungary, but we won’t leave our brothers lying in the middle of Buda either.” 

     We would bury them downriver and I would take their donatia to their families.

     Three enemy soldiers leapt from hiding places as  we made for the barges, but Emilio’s gunners took them down at once. God rest their souls.

     Tivadar’s wrists were bound and he was silent as I led him onto the rivercraft.

     “Fotia to sabado vrada,” quoted Xanthos, guarding the gangway. “Lights on a Saturday night.” A Greek love-song, usually song by a man and woman together. Not exactly a happy song. Perhaps Xanthos referred to me leading Tivadar away.

     “May we live to see them,” I intoned.

     Emilio and his remaining three men ran up last. “Ten minutes!”

     I gave Aloys the signal to cast-off.

// 4459 words