Free 1635: The Eastern Front by Eric Flint Page B

were planning to defect to the Ottomans. If he raised his concerns now, Ferdinand would just accuse him of being an alarmist. Again.
    He kept silent, allowing the emperor to mull on the matter. There was nothing at all wrong with Ferdinand's mind, whenever he could shuffle off unthinking royal notions and attitudes. It was better to allow him to come to his own conclusions and decisions. Trying to chivvy him would be counterproductive.
    After a minute or so, Ferdinand mused: "It's too late for the Turk to launch an invasion this year."
    Drugeth nodded. Like many Hungarian noblemen he was an experienced soldier. The Ottomans would have to mobilize a huge army to attack Vienna—and get that army and its equally enormous supply train through the Balkans. It was impossible to do so in winter, of course. But it was also essential that such an army not be left stranded in the middle of winter. There would be no way to keep it supplied with enough food, if it failed to seize Vienna.
    The end result of these harsh logistical realities was that any attack launched by the Turks against Austria had to follow a rather fixed and rigid timetable. The invasion couldn't possibly be launched until the fresh spring grass arrived, or there wouldn't be enough grazing for the horses and oxen. There was no possibility of hauling enough fodder. Not with the immense number of livestock involved in such a campaign.
    Traditionally, the Turks began their campaigning season at or near the time of the festival in honor of Hizir Hyas, the Moslem saint who protected travelers and other people in peril. That came in early May, by the Christian calendar.
    Of course, the Turks wouldn't wait that long before they began moving their troops. They'd march them north to Belgrade in March and April, and launch the attack from there once the weather and grazing conditions permitted. Belgrade was roughly half the distance from Istanbul to Vienna, but the terrain over that final stretch was much more difficult for an army. Much of the terrain south of the Danube consisted of marshes and swamps.
    The Turkish army was extremely well organized, true. Being honest, he acknowledged that it was better organized than the Austrian—or, indeed, most Christian armies. But it still couldn't move faster than ten or twelve miles a day. The earliest the Ottomans could reach Vienna would be late June or, more likely, sometime in July.
    They couldn't afford to arrive much later than that, because once they did arrive they'd only have a few months to succeed in taking the city. If they hadn't done so by late autumn, they'd have no choice but to retreat back to Belgrade. Trying to keep an army of that size in fieldworks through winter would be almost certain disaster. Disease, exposure and hunger would slaughter far more of the sultan's soldiers than his enemy could. Such a disaster had overtaken the Ottoman army in 1529, when Suleiman the Magnificent delayed for too long before ordering a retreat, in hopes that a final assault would take Vienna.
    So, Ferdinand was right. It was already June, and thus too late this year for a Turkish invasion.
    "All right," said the emperor, a bit grumpily. "I'll agree to hold off any decision until the winter." He raised a rigid forefinger. "But! The price is that you have to undertake an inspection of the frontier fortifications. To see if the Turks really are planning any mischief for next year."
    "Again? I inspected those forts less than—"
    "Yes, again!" Ferdinand grimaced. There was some sympathy in the expression—not much—along with surly satisfaction at making Janos pay for impeding the royal will. "You can send your letters to the American woman just as well from horseback as from the comfort of your estates in Hungary."
    Estates which, in point of fact, Janos hadn't seen in quite a while. That was because he'd been here in Vienna, serving the emperor in the capacity that the up-timers called "right-hand man."
    But there was no point