"The general situation of the peasant-soldier families?" Her expression grew serious, knowing where the Autocratic State's military foundation lay. Even Alexius, who had retreated to the side, looked solemn.
If something were to happen to the peasant-soldiers, who were one of the Autocratic State's military cornerstones, it would shake the entire Bosporus.
After the two regents nodded, Patniko bowed again and again, stating seriously, "In short, as most of the Autocratic State's peasant-soldiers are away fighting, their families, especially their wives and daughters, have recently suffered many unwarranted harassments from unemployed vagrants.
If they were truly abducted by these ruffians, it would be a major blow to the morale of the soldiers on the front lines. Furthermore, many unscrupulous merchants are attempting to circumvent the laws previously enacted by Caesar and are trying to illegally acquire their land."
After listening to Patniko's brief report, Barbara first shook her head internally, "Is it really necessary to bring such civil matters to a public 'Imperial Council' meeting?"
Although she thought so, the fact that these matters were brought to the meeting indicated that they had indeed caused significant negative impacts.
Considering this, she immediately proposed establishing several temporary decrees to protect the interests of these peasant-soldiers. It was only when discussing these specific laws that they realized the long-established bosphorus code was largely blank when it came to protecting the standing army…
They had their work cut out for them now, but wasn't codified law constantly refined through the process of identifying and addressing deficiencies when problems arose?
While the Bosporus high-ranking officials in Mangup were scrambling to protect the peasant-soldiers, on the Anatolia Plateau across the Black Sea, the White Sheep Army's casualty report from yesterday had also been finalized.
"Reporting, Father," Mahmoud bowed respectfully and reported, "In yesterday's battle, we lost over 900 scattered Turk nomads, and nearly two hundred Ghazi Warriors lost their combat effectiveness due to death or injury.
Additionally, over five hundred enemy corpses were collected."
"Based on past experience, the enemy's losses are certainly more than five hundred," the White Sheep Sultan, Kara Osman, sitting calmly in the central army tent, listened to the report with a very placid expression.
"Two hundred Ghazi Warriors dead or wounded, that is a bit unexpected. These Romans are indeed different from what we usually see in Pontus, but two hundred losses are still within the normal range."
"Then, Father, what should we do with the nearly hundred nomads who survived? Also, although these people grow like weeds after being cut down, will the losses from this battle be too difficult to replenish in the short term?" Mahmoud finally asked.
"Ask them if they are willing to be incorporated into the tribes; this is what they deserve. Of course, there's no need to force the fools who refuse; let those with problems in their heads get what they want and die of illness in the wilderness," the White Sheep Sultan narrowed his hawk-like dark pupils, stroking his white beard, and smiled faintly.
Those unaware of the reasons might be surprised by his indifference towards the fallen Turk nomads, but there was a reason.
As mentioned before, although these devout and savage Turkmen nomads nominally obeyed his command, overall, for the structured Aq Qoyunlu Dynasty, they were a stubborn, uncultured, obstinate, and self-righteous bunch of troublesome people.
They not only failed to understand the various policies the Aq Qoyunlu Dynasty was trying to implement but also repeatedly disrupted the taxes and labor imposed on them by the White Sheep. They could only be swayed by religion and origin to serve as cannon fodder during wartime.
In any case, for the rulers of the tribal alliance, it was best if these nomads all died. Rather, letting them die on the battlefield in the name of holy war was the best outcome for them.
"Don't worry, I will send people to recruit replacements for the lost Turk nomads from the Plateau soon. Approximately a thousand more will join our army within a week," Kara Osman casually presented the plan for conscripting reinforcements, and reassured Mahmoud, "These fortifications are still a bit troublesome.
Before they arrive, take a few days to rest. May Allah's glory protect you."
"Yes, Father. May Allah's glory also descend upon you."
For the next week or so, the White Sheep Army only sent out a few small groups of cannon fodder Turk nomads for reconnaissance, and there were no major movements like the first time.
The Bosporus defenders also relaxed considerably. Besides routinely repelling the Turks, who could only shout "allah akbar" and spoke no human language, they made minor repairs to the earth forts and remaining watchtowers so they could withstand the next major battle.
This seemingly peaceful but actually tense atmosphere was broken around late October.
It was early morning. The Bosporus defenders, who had just received their winter army cotton uniforms, were burning bonfires inside the earth fort, singing incomprehensible and terribly off-key songs, finding joy in their hardship—
"Hey, hey, hey, it's off, completely off-key. Hey!"
"Thomas, that's enough. You sing just as off-key yourself…"
"That's different. I'm an old hand, so, by the Mother, I'm not. Peter, isn't that right?"
"Yes, it's really cold."
"It is indeed cold, but we're not talking about the weather right now, we're talking about the tune!"
"Huh? What are you babbling about? I'm telling you…"
Before the defender named Peter could finish his sentence, he heard the messenger from the watchtower calling out to them, "Everyone, it's bad! The Turks are attacking again! They're fiercer and more numerous than last time!"
"Damn it, what the hell?! Let's go, let's go!"
And so, the defenders, who had just managed to get a chance to rest, once again threw themselves into defending these fortifications.
On the mountainside south of Palantoken Mountain, thousands of White Sheep soldiers were gathering under the leadership of their Bey and several tribal chiefs, once again launching an attack on the fortifications built by the Bosporus.
This time, Kara Osman decided to hold nothing back. In addition to sending several trusted tribal generals, he also had his third son Mahmoud and second son Hamza command these six thousand troops, vowing to capture the Palantoken Mountain defense line established by the Bosporus in a single day.
The first to suffer were the two remaining wooden watchtowers. After the Turk nomad cannon fodder piled up five Greek feet high of corpses for their Ghazi Warriors, the White Sheep Army's Turkmen Ghazi successfully approached the watchtower positions as desired.
Facing the surging enemy, the defenders on the watchtowers dared not be negligent. Soon, arrows, stone projectiles, and Golden Juice rained down on the heads of the bravest and most reckless Ghazi.