embedded itself in Longo's shield and another skittered off the back of his armour. The man to his left fell screaming as a crossbow bolt struck him in the high. Then the hail of arrows ended, and with a roar, the janissaries resumed their charge. They slammed into the Christian line, driving it backwards. Longo got in a few good blows before the press of Turks became so great that his sword was useless. He was sandwiched between Tristo to his right and another Christian to his left, and crushed between two janissaries in front and two Christians behind him. The battle had become a shoving match, and for now, the Turks were winning, their numbers and momentum pushing the Christians backwards.
'Push men!' Longo yelled. 'Don't give ground! If they breach the gap then we are lost!' The two Christians behind Longo put their shields into his back and pushed hard, shoving him forward. All along the line the Christians dug in. Their armour, made of solid steel plates, protected them against the press of men, while the Turks in their lighter leather and chain armour were being slowly crushed to death in the crowd. As the leading janissaries ceased pushing, the Turkish advance ground to a halt. All along the gap the tightly packed Christians shoved against the crowd of janissaries, with neither side giving an inch. More and more janissaries poured into the attack, but the Christians held firm. 'Keep pushing, men!' Longo yelled. 'We're holding them!'
Then, there was a sudden commotion in the ranks behind Longo. 'The gates are opening!' someone shouted. 'Reinforcements! Reinforcements have come!' another cried. Soon, the entire Christian line had erupted into cheering. Then, just as suddenly, the cheering stopped.
The men behind Longo gave way, and he glanced behind him to see what had happened. 'Mother of God!' he cursed, for the gates had not opened to reinforcements. Turks were pouring through them and attacking the Christians from behind. The Christian line dissolved under the two-way attack. Longo found himself isolated in a small group with Tristo, Constantine, Dalmata and six members of the Varangian guard. They formed a circle with Constantine in the middle. Turks swarmed around them, eager to win the glory of striking down the emperor.
Longo fought with Tristo and Dalmata on either side of him. Tristo had dropped his axe and was now wielding his huge, four-foot-long sword. The heavy sword smashed through leather and steel alike, shattering swords and removing heads with every swing. Dalmata fought with a short, curved sword in either hand, parrying and slashing in a deadly blur of activity. Longo fought with his thin, slightly curved Asian sword and a small shield, dealing out death with lethal efficiency.
Next to Dalmata, one of the Varangian guards was impaled by a spear and slumped to the ground. The group closed the gap, forming a tighter circle. 'We won't last much longer like this!' Tristo shouted. 'We must do something!'
'We must get to the gate!' Constantine shouted back. 'If we can hold it then we still have a chance to defend the city from the inner walls.'
'To the gate! To the gate!' Longo shouted, echoed by Constantine and the others. All around them, the other remaining Christians were also fighting towards the gate. The Turks however, soon realized what was happening. As the Christian forces neared the gate, the janissaries rallied. They surged forward, led by a huge janissary wielding a giant, curved scimitar. Just before the wave of janissaries hit, Longo recognized the man as Ulu.
The janissaries drove a wedge through the middle of Longo's group. He found himself alone, fighting for his life. He ducked a sword, then blocked a spear thrust and spun away from two more Turks, slashing each across the gut as he did so. Another janissary charged him, screaming 'Allah! Allah!' Longo ducked under the man's sword, then slammed his shoulder into the Turk's gut and stood, flipping the janissary head over heels. Longo stabbed down, finishing the man. Then, as he turned to find his next foe, something slammed into his chest, causing him to stagger backwards. He looked down to see the feathered tail of a crossbow bolt protruding from his armour, just beneath his right collarbone. Blood was already oozing from the wound, staining his armour red.
The janissary who had fired the bolt had drawn his sword, and now he moved in for the kill, slashing at Longo's gut. Longo managed to parry the blow, but as their swords clanged together, agonizing pain shot through Longo's chest. He stumbled backwards and sank to his knees. The janissary raised his sword to finish Longo. Then the man's weapon fell aside as he was struck from behind, cleaved almost in half by Tristo's huge sword. Tristo stepped past the dead man and knelt beside Longo.
'Come on, let's get you out of here.'
'Tristo, behind you,' Longo whispered, pointing past his friend to where Ulu was striding across the field towards them. Tristo rose and turned to face him.
'Don't worry. I'll take care of this bugger.'
As Ulu approached, he grabbed one of the other janissaries running to confront Tristo and pushed him aside. 'This one is mine,' Ulu barked. The two huge men faced off, each pausing to size the other up. Tristo was a good three inches taller than Ulu and heavier, but whereas Tristo was bulky, the janissary general was tightly muscled, without an ounce of fat. Ulu held his long yatagan sword with one hand and swung it lightly from side to side. Tristo gripped his own mighty longsword with both hands.
Ulu attacked first, springing forward with surprising speed and slashing for Tristo's gut. Tristo knocked the blow aside with his sword, then spun and chopped down at Ulu's head. Ulu jumped back out of the way, and Tristo pressed the attack, slicing upwards towards Ulu's chest. Ulu blocked the blow, and their swords locked together, bringing them close. Each man strained against the other, their teeth gritting and biceps bulging. 'You're a strong son of a bitch, aren't you?' Tristo growled. 'But the bigger they are, the easier it is for me to do this.' And with that, he head-butted Ulu in the face, and at the same time, brought his knee up hard into the janissary's groin.
Ulu stumbled backwards, his guard open, and Tristo stabbed for his chest. For a second, Longo thought that the blow would succeed, but then Ulu's sword swept back, deflecting the blow at the last second. Still, Tristo's sword sliced through the side of Ulu's armour, which was soon wet with blood. The injury, however, seemed to only enrage Ulu. With a roar, he went on the offensive, forcing Tristo to retreat under a series of heavy blows. Despite all his fury, however, Ulu could not penetrate Tristo's guard. Then, Ulu made a mistake. As Tristo retreated, Ulu lunged too far forward, tripping over a dead body. Tristo stepped in for the kill, slicing down for Ulu's neck. But the janissary had only pretended to stumble. Ulu sidestepped the blow, knocked Tristo's sword aside, and then reversed the direction of his own sword. He caught Tristo in the side of the head, cleaving his skull open and killing him instantly.
A wordless, primal scream burst from Longo. His heart pounded and rage coursed through him, washing away the pain in his chest. He stood and cast his shield aside, gripping his sword with both hands. Then he charged. Ulu waited for him to come and at the last second swung hard for Longo's head. Longo ducked the blow and thrust at Ulu's gut. Ulu parried, and as their swords met, pain knifed through Longo's chest, almost making him drop his sword. Longo staggered back, and Ulu took advantage, attacking with a vicious overhead blow. Longo spun away from the sword, and as he completed his spin, kicked out, catching Ulu square in the stomach. Ulu hardly moved. It was as if Longo had kicked a wall. Longo bounced back, barely managing to avoid another slicing blow from Ulu's yatagan. The two men paused, and their eyes met. 'I spared you before,' Ulu said. 'I will have no mercy this time, Longo.'
'Nor will I,' Longo growled, and gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest, he went on the offensive, pressing Ulu with a series of quick lunges and slashes. Ulu gave ground, but Longo could not penetrate his defence. Again and again Longo thought that his sword would surely strike home, only for Ulu's huge yatagan to sweep back at the last second, deflecting Longo's blow. Longo felt himself weakening, but then caught sight of Tristo's body out of the corner of his eye. At the sight of his fallen friend, he attacked with a renewed fury. He slashed down to lower Ulu's guard, and then, mustering all of his strength, swung for Ulu's head. Somehow, Ulu again blocked the blow. Their swords locked, bringing them close together, and with his free hand, Ulu grabbed the crossbow bolt protruding from Longo's chest and twisted it. Longo gasped in pain, his knees weak and the world momentarily dim. He recovered just in time to duck a blow that would have decapitated him.
Now Ulu was on the attack, and each time Longo was forced to parry, he grunted as blinding pain tore through him. He gave ground steadily, dodging and ducking so as to avoid having to parry. Ulu slashed at Longo's belly, and this time when Longo retreated back out of the way he came up against the wall of Constantinople. There was no more room. Ulu swung hard, and when Longo parried the blow, their two swords locked together. Longo cried out in pain as he strained against Ulu, but he was no match for the janissary's strength. Ulu pushed Longo into the jagged stonework of the battered wall, and gradually the two locked blades began to inch closer to Longo's face. 'Goodbye, old friend,' Ulu said.
'Not yet,' Longo replied. 'This is for Tristo.' He let go of his sword and dropped to one knee. As Ulu fell forward above him, Longo grabbed the crossbow bolt in his chest and with a scream, tore it free. Then, before Ulu
