Rome AARisen - a Byzantine AAR

We hit two big milestones.

First of all, I would like to thank everyone who went out and voted! We won the category Best Narrative AAR in CK! So I thought a little bit of celebration is in order - with another surprise (sadly short though) update!

Secondly, we've hit over 500 replies and 17500 views. Back when this started I had no idea so many people would like the story and it would grow as big as it has. Its truly something humbling to think about, and I'd like to thank all of my readers! I hope you all find the continuing plots and intrigues of the Byzantine court fun and exciting! (I know I have fun writing them )

As many of you have noted, it seems like Italy has a few too many colors, so this next post will move along the story of Manuel's attempts to make Italy monochromatic, so the speak.

So let us celebrate, and watch events unfold. And remember, since Manuel is involved in this - Don't drink the wine!





March 18th, 1142

Giuseppi Rimini slipped, but caught himself on the slippery stairs.

There were parts of the Lateran Palace that he hated - usually parts that were built during the days before it came under the possession of the Holy Fathers. Some, such as the cellars, were dank and slippery themselves, and there never was enough money to renovate everything properly. The only such part of the complex that Rimini didn't mind was his destination - for him, it was a place of solace, and secrecy.

The Silent Room.

The 'Silent Room,' deep beneath the Lateran Palace, was originally built by the Laternii family centuries before as a chapel when Rome was not a Christian city. Successive Popes had added and changed the chambers, creating passageways, connecting them to the catacombs beneath the city, until by Rimini's time, the 'Silent Room' connected the a labyrinth of catacombs, chambers and corridors underneath Rome. In a time of crisis, a Pope and his close entourage could flee the city by this route. Before the crisis struck, however, the 'Silent Room' served as a chamber for solemn contemplation and prayer.

Or planning - Rimini's reason for being there this day.

Finally they came to a set of bronze doors, the ancient glyph of Chi Ro dominating each. The two attendants opened the immense doors for the Archbishop, the screech and groan of wood and metal echoing curiously in the dark corridors. The room on the other side would have been pitch black, save for the dancing light of torches all along the walls. Ancient glyphs depicting "chi ro," the sign of the fisherman, and other ancient Christian art and symbols shimmered in the torchlight. For Rimini, the Silent Room also was a reminder of what those of his faith had gone through before him. While he sat and wondered about the fate of those who drew these symbols on the walls, he could take solace that no matter what faced him, he was not about to be tossed into the Coliseum versus a lion. The great doors closed behind him with a creak and a moan, before a clank told him they were secure. No one on the outside could now hear what was being said, and for the topic of discussion, secrecy was of the utmost importance.

In the center of the thirty by thirty foot chamber was a small, ancient table, a gift from one of the last Emperors of the West to the Pope. It had been kept here as yet another reminder of the trials and tribulations of the past. Three figures already sat around the table, the torchlight dancing off of their faces. Firstly was Archbishop Thomas Langdon, lately from the see of York, who had come to Rome to manage the finances of the Papal See. His face was grave and taut, the deep wrinkles in his ancient face looking like dark wounds in the dim light. His eyes looked quiet and unemotional, but Rimini knew his friend was immensely agitated. Unlike Rimini, Langdon did not show his fear.

Second was Alfredo Kastamaris, the only man in the room who was not of the cloth. Kastamaris was in charge of the small military of the Papal See - the one hundred dedicated guards of the Pope himself. Popes in the past had relied on the populace and militia of Rome to defend them, but as Civitate had proven, that was not sufficient. Kastamaris ran a small, elite band of well trained, disciplined soldiers, former Greeks who had accepted the Latin rite, Croats, Frenchmen, Saxons, Germans, even a few Normans. They were all required to wear cloaks of white, and comport themselves on behavior benefiting soldiers of Christ. Like Kastamaris, they recieved no pay - they lived in cramped quarters and recieved the same food as priests. Love of Mother Church and what she could spare was what kept them.

Third was nuncio Guilio Nocioni, who maintained the network of letters and word between the Holy See and the archbisophrics, bishoprics, and even larger parishes in Europe. His position meant that he held access to a great deal of information on the comings and goings of secular rulers, information that he supplied to the Holy Father so that the Pope could navigate the treacherous world of temporal politics as he guided his spiritual flock.

Rimini walked over, pulled out the fourth stool and sat down. Immediately, he began to nervously drum his fingers on the table. "Gentleman, brothers in Christ, I have called you here together on the most urgent of business," the Archbishop said quickly. There was a slight ruffle as the others finished arranging the parchments before them. "Word has reached my ears that the Emperor in Constantinople wishes to begin talks of rapproachment between the Eastern Church and ourselves. I am convinced that he is not genuine, and that it is a ploy, some cover scheme for an invasion of Italy."

Everyone nodded their heads gravely.

"It would appear so, in light of Egypt," Langdon grumbled. "On the throne for three months and he already seizes the counties granted to lords of the West."


"At least there wasn't bloodshed this time," Nocioni said, his mouth twisting in irony. The imperial takeover of the counties of Pelusia, Buhariya, and Damietta had been quick and bloodless. Roman troops had filled the streets of their major cities before the local counts could even resist, and they were allowed to keep their positions, so long as they practiced Eastern rites and became loyal comes in the Roman government. That previously loyal lords would so suddenly abandon their faith was more than a little disconcerting - there was always the chance if the Eastern Emperor moved, the Norman bulwark might cave and do the same thing.

"God be praised," Rimini said with full honesty. The idea of Christians killing Christians left an acidic taste in his mouth. Misguided as the East might be, misled as they might be, they were a part of the faith. "However their actions make me concerned about our position to the south. I've poured over every single text I could find, and what Brother Nocioni has supplied to me from the few churches that follow our rites in the East. It appears we will be facing a force not seen since the days of Justinian."

"If the Emperor is planning to resolve things by force," Langdon said. His voice sounded like an avalanche of gravel down a mountainside. "He should know that any attempt to conquer Rome would definitely be met with the might of the Western Kingdoms falling on Constantinople. Given such dispensation, the Emperor in Germany might even be inclined to disengage from northern Italy and instead march on richer Macedonia or Thrace."

"I still believe Manuel's ultimate goal is Rome," Rimini stood his ground. "He is merely coming at us sideways with this legation."

"He's probably eyeing the Normans first," Nocioni offered. The younger man eagerly launched into his explanation. "Think on it! This legation includes... who?"

"Three of the Emperor's nephews, several Bishops..." Rimini replied.

Everyone's eyes went slightly wide at that. Nocioni was the first to launch forward. "Well then, if its such an important legation to include three of his own family, he probably has something else coming aside from a simple letter offering to talk about the rift between the churches. A simple priest or properly ordained bishop could do that! He's overplaying his hand, that much is obvious to me."

"The Normans are growing weaker," Nocioni continued. "Bohemond is growing sicker, and Tancred is losing control of the kingdom. And Godfrey is upset to the point of foolishness. I know for a fact from the Bishop of Salerno that Duke of Campania is chafing under the rule of his brothers - and that his daughter Basiliea went to Constantinople a few months ago."

Rimini's eyes went wide, and he uttered a short prayer as his hands drummed even faster. "Lord, give us strength to understand these things and the wisdom to act in your will," he finished quietly. "So Godfrey is probably asking for Eastern intervention?" Rimini asked guardedly, obviously hoping for an answer in the negative.

"I would venture to guess yes," Nocioni said quietly.

"A pretext! Godfrey just handed the Emperor his pretext!" Langdon snapped.

"And how likely is it that the Emperor would listen to Godfrey and place him on the throne, instead of taking lands for himself?" Rimini pressed.

"That, I do not know," Nocioni confessed. "You have heard of Manuel's reputation, as have I. However, I have seen Lady Basiliea in person, and for those inclined to the pleasures of the flesh, she would be a temptation few men could ignore."

Rimini's finger drumming stopped for a second, and the priest ran his hand through his hair. If Godfrey became the new King of Sicily, the results could be almost as bad. The Duke of Campania had requested for years that the Pope intervene in the Sicilian succession, and Innocent, like the two Popes before him, had refused. Godfrey was known to be a man to hold a grudge, and it was not likely the Eastern Emperor would help the Duke of Campania without demanding something in return.

Like military pressure on Rome.

"Let us function as if Manuel invades, for if Godfrey becomes King, we might face the same issues," Rimini said after a moment, the comforting noise of his fingers starting up again.

"How many will come?" Kastmarais finally spoke. Even his face had blanched.

"Assuming the Emperor has problems with his own nobility and has to leave significant forces behind, they could invade with 30-40,000..." Rimini gave his most conservative estimate. Those were a little over half the troops from the personal domains of the Emperor. If he persuaded the Eastern nobility to move as well, the numbers could truly swell into something nightmarish. Everyone blanched even more. The Normans, even if they marshaled all their armies in a unified force, could muster perhaps 25,000. "And once the East gets a toehold on Italy, it will be a matter of time before Rome becomes a target. If the East helps Godfrey become King its only a matter of time before Rome becomes their target. That much, I trust is true."

"We have more immediate concerns, brother," Langdon's aged voice rumbled. For the first time, Rimini noticed Langdon hands. They were folded in front of him as if in prayer, but they were shaking slightly. "What will we tell the legates when they arrive? When will they arrive?"

"They could arrive any day - and I haven't the slightest idea what to tell them," Rimini admitted. The problem of an Eastern invasion had so consumed his mind he'd forgotten the smaller matter of speaking to the legates themselves.

"What does the Holy Father say?" Langdon pressed.

"He counsels patience and prayer," Rimini said quietly. The drumming on the table came to a halt. "Patience and prayer. That is why he is not here with us - he is in his chambers asking for a Holy Intercession."

"Wise words," Nocioni nodded quietly, until suddenly his eyes lit up.

"Though remember, brother, the Comnenus family loves each other as a rat loves cats," Nocioni added with a smile. "Why shouldn't we use this to help keep the Holy See independent of secular control? Of the great princes of that family, who would want to leave the luxuries and sin of Constantinople for our humbleness?"

Rimini could not help but smirk. Nocioni spoke the truth though. The Comnenids were rich and powerful, controlling the greatest city in the known world and all the temptations therein - and they were definitely not known as a pure, God-fearing family. Why would one of their scions come here, to smaller, more backwards Rome? Rome had barely 30,000 to Constantinople's 350,000... it made little sense, unless those three were in exile, for some reason.

"There's the possibility for a wedge," Rimini said with a smile. The idea made sense - and it could solve the issue without bloodshed - or at least, far less bloodshed than a full scale war would engender.

"A what?" Kastamaris asked, puzzled.

"A wedge, something we can use to pry the legates from their master," Rimini said with a smile, his fingers resuming their drumming. "That gives us some room to begin to work our way out of this. So, let us begin then. Going on the logic that the three nephews are on exile from Constantinople, what shall we tell them?"

The foremost minds in the Catholic Church put themselves to the task, and slowly, steadily, a plan to deal with events came into being...

EDIT: And yes, there was a little homage to one of my favorite EU3 AARs...

Fulcrumvale - Manuel really thinks he's clever. People that do that tend to over-estimate their abilities, though...

Lordling - ...Lordling brings up a good point. It looked like Manuel had been outsmarted by Nikolaios, but Manuel actually did have some backup plans in place. The question is, will he have plans here in case the Papacy is rather distrustful of his intentions?

Ksim3000 - Considering the Papacy has all of three provinces, calling them the underdog is a serious understatement.

Mettermrck - No, its not historical - its something I completely made up. I imagine that during the Middle Ages there were quite a few historic artifacts like such a table that were still in existence, and probably safeguarded quite well.

RGB - This is the Papacy - many medieval Popes wrote the game on intrigue. All that remains to be seen is if Rimini and Innocent II come from that cloth, or something less...

canonized - Yup, pretty soon there will be a Panzerkardinal in every kitchen, a Silent Room in every basement!

jeffg006 - Just wait...

Test is finished! Time for the next update!




April 5th 1142


Manuel looked up, as overhead hung the captured banners from the Battle of the Delta only six years before. Nikolaios had been loathe to let them be seen in public due to the diplomatic fallout - Manuel had no such compunction. If anything, he repeatedly told his entourage, they would serve as a reminder to Western ambassadors that the Emperor could, and would, strike at them as well. The eyes of everyone else were still down in prayer, but the Emperor knew Father Gennadius would not care.

Romanos did, however. The Emperor's eyes laid on those of his brother momentarily, and the Prince of Edessa quickly lowered his head, pretending he had been at prayer. The attempt was pitiful - a word Manuel used often when describing his sibling. The Prince was sniveling, whiny, and prone to his temper. He spoke out loudly and often against Manuel's policies - he'd been the first to sharply criticize going into Egypt, then to condemn Manuel for not going into Egypt fast enough. He chastised the Emperor for not properly observing religious protocols, despite keeping a mistress himself. He was proving an immense hassle to deal with.

"Excellent work, Majesty," the Prince of Lykia whispered from behind the Emperor, and the Emperor smiled, reminded that not all of the dynatoi were as irascible as his brother. Manuel turned slightly and gave a regal nod in return. There really wasn't much to congratulate, but the proper forms had to be respected. The Roman "invasion" of Crusader Egypt was a far less military and far more orderly affair than its name implied. The Latin nobles of the Delta had still not recovered from their crushing defeat at Manuel's hands only a few years before. At the first sign of Roman troops, most of the nobles cowardly capitulated, abandoning faith and liege to swear fealty to the new Prince of Alexandria, as Manuel's old domestikos Skleros was now known.

It was a wonder really - Perhaps fifty years ago, the Hagia Sophia was silent. The Empire was at war with itself then, yet now, it was once again undisputably the Cathedral of Christendom. As the new Patriarch continued his prayer of thanksgiving for the Imperial reconquest of Egypt, Manuel smiled - he had all intentions of making sure it stayed that way.

There were a myriad of plots now in progress. His Holiness Patriarch Gennadius was Manuel's handpicked successor to the troublesome Anathasios, and as such was a spiritual pet, of sorts, of the Emperor. The Patriarch of Alexandria owed his seat to Manuel - and the proposed new Holy See of Carthage (despite said city lying in ruin) would mean the Emperor would either have appointed or hold in his debt over half the sees of all Orthodox Christianity. It was an unparalleled opportunity - a chance for the spiritual rulers of the Empire, often to source of discomfort and rebellion against the Emperor, to be fully under the Imperial thumb.

Of course, in order to get the fifth (sixth, of one counted Rome) See created, Manuel needed the cooperation of either Patriarch Thomas of Antioch, or Patriarch Filaret of Jerusalem. Both were case exemplars of the intermnible priests that had plagued the Emperors in the past. Both would hold the price of their independence dear. Jerusalem wanted a sworn imperial decree proclaiming the Emperor's intent to not interfere in the operations of the Holy Sees - something Manuel couldn't do (otherwise, why go to the trouble of creating another Patriarchate?). The Patriarch of Antioch wanted something almost as difficult to achieve.

Reunion with Rome.

The inherent problem with this demand were the long-standing and, from Manuel's view, valid claims of Konstantinopolis to southern Italy. The dynatoi, particularly those families, such as the Paleologids, Agyrids and others who once held estates in south Italy, were pushing hard for some kind of imperial intervention now that the Norman state was showing its rotted core. Add to this the bad blood between the Patriarch of Konstantinopolis and Rome - in Manuel's eyes the filioque controversy was something that could be reasonably solved given level-headedness, something the controversy hadn't seen since the Patriarch and the Pope had excommunicated each other in 1054 - and what would have been previously merely a difficult request become nigh unto the impossible.

Yet Manuel was not without tricks - no, Nikolaios had Manuel pegged wrong, he was never without tricks. If the young man had gleaned anything from the torturous life of his elder brother, it was to always have plots within plots, backup plans for every backup plan.

To that reason, Manuel had sent a letter to Rome with his official delegation, offering perpetual peace and the start of negotiations on a rapproachment between the Churches, if the Pope would publicly and officially enter into an alliance against the Normans. The Emperor was hoping that His Holiness would remember the stinging Papal defeat at Civitate almost a hundred years before, and that some motive of vengeance existed in the Papal robes or the people of Rome itself. The East, he would reason, would make a perfectly good bulwark against the German Emperor, and would have no designs on the city of Rome itself - a patent lie, but Manuel hoped, a hidden one.

Yet he knew only a fool for a Pope would agree to that deal. So there were other plans that made use of this one. In all truth, in the eyes of the Romanoi, the Patriarch in Rome needed to be brought to heel. And Manuel thought he could strike two birds with one stone. Sending Zeno, Matthias and Basilieos to Rome was easy. It removed the three pests from his family he couldn't bribe. Basilieos because his brother already had territory and was the head of that family branch, and Matthias and Zeno because Manuel did not trust them to remain ignorant about the nature of their father's demise. Zeno especially seemed to have channeled the spirit of the late Emperor Nikolaios, even if he was slightly impatient and inclined to complaining. Manuel did not want either brother in any position to do something drastic should they put things together.

Sending all three also meant that the delegation would be very public, despite its "officially" secret nature. Rumors would fly, and Manuel had no doubt that the young Zeno in particular would begin politicking, and thus attracting notice, abroad. That would make the German Emperor nervous - there would undoubtedly be inquiries from Aachen as to why legates were in Rome. Manuel would then offer to back off negotiations with the Pope, if the German Emperor committed to supporting a Romanoi invasion of southern Italy. Even if the Emperor refused such an arrangement, it would put confusion in the ranks of all his potential opponents on the peninsula.


That second part of the plan was far more complex - and still unfinished. However, Manuel based his logic that south Italy would be ripe for the taking on three known facts.

First, Romanion, given a few years to recover, was easily the strongest state in Christendom. To her east the Seljuks were finally at peace, but their realm was weak and humbled. There was a twenty year window, at the least, where they would be no problem. To the north, the Kingdom of the Rus now pushed hard on the Cumans, keeping them in line. The German Emperor was more concerned about his revolting vassals in Bavaria and northern Italy than the south of the peninsula. Romanion would soon be free to gain a toe-hold, if not more.

Second, it was a matter of time before the Kingdom of Sicily fell apart, that much was known. King Bohemond was famously ill, and Manuel could only imagine that there would be conflict between Duke Tancred, the Regent, and Duke Godfrey, the eldest and arguably rightful ruler of the realm. The Normans were the main military machine that had held the hand of Emperor after Emperor for the past hundred years, especially fear of the Norman cavalry. Manuel had shown the Normans could be beaten by a lighter and inferior force. Add to that he now had the resources of being an Emperor at his disposal.

Third, and most tricky, Manuel thought that the Pope was distracted. The Papacy in Rome thrived on its secular independence. Its scholars claimed its freedom from secular clouds gave the Bishop of Rome clarity into spiritual matters. Thus, Manuel knew, Rome had often used the Normans and the Germans against each other, and with the Germans marching into Northern Italy in force and, hopefully, backing the Imperial claim, the Pope would likely be boxed in, powerless to stop the reclamation of rightfully Romanoi territory. From that point, Konstantinopolis would begin the dialogue with Rome anew, this time with the threat of Imperial swords to back up the Emperor's demands. The Eastern Empire had conquered Rome before, and it could do so again.

"Why do you not visit my chambers anymore?" a voice asked quietly in the Emperor's ear, and Manuel frowned. He knew Yeva was looking at him intently, despite all those gathered around, and the fact that only he alone should have the right to have his head up not in prayer. She had this habit - questioning him at inopportune times, making him look a fool - not to mention her looks.

Yeva Dobroslava was the daughter of the Korol' of the Rus, Vladimir Rurikovich. When Manuel had married her six years ago, he was but a brand new prince of the realm - rich in lands but poor in cash. Cash was perhaps the only attractive attribute that Yeva had, as her dowry came to the sum of nearly 300,000 silver solidii. She was rather short and plump, her face pale as the moon save when she blushed or was enraged, when it turned red as blood. She kept her jet black hair long and straight, unlike the Greek girls who crimped their curls to no end, and her slate gray eyes held little emotion, save contempt for those below her, and anger at those who annoyed her. She was not especially intelligent, but what wits she had went directly to her tongue - its sharpness and acid wake had become infamous throughout all of Konstantinopolis.

It was during times when her tongue wagged that Manuel regretted marrying her. True, her gold was the cash he had used to finance his first invasion of Crusader Egypt, but now just putting up with her took the patience of a saint. Added to that fact was that she'd sired for him two daughters, but only one son, and Demetrios was now a weak, sickly young boy, with a hunched back and an extra finger. He would never rule, which made things all the more urgent that Manuel sire another heir - though the Emperor was increasingly convinced he would not do it by his wife.

An ironic thought considering their location. Manuel gave a wry smile.

His face had filled out, and he now had the dark, mysterious air that tended to drive the women of the court wild. It was almost public knowledge he was not faithful to his wife - considering her traits, most of the men of the court understood, and the Patriarch was Manuel's pet and dared not say a thing. Like his father, Manuel had inherited the Komnenid roving eye, and ever now and then he let himself indulge.

"We shall talk later, dear," Manuel said his oft-repeated line, only to postpone "later" to sometime after the Second Coming. He refused to even turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her bow her head. He started to glance around to check and see if anyone had overheard.

And thats when he saw her.

She was too tall, but just enough that she had an air of grace, not gangliness. Whomever had selected her clothing had known her form well - robes gave an air of the demure, yet let the eye see just enough to want to inquire more about what lay underneath. Her eyes were a bright, a sharp contrast to her raven black hair. Her complexion and nose spoke of someone with Greek ancestry, but with something else added - Manuel could not place it. By far, she stood alone amongst the women in the room.

And she was looking directly at him.

"Who... is... she?" Manuel asked quietly his eyes finally catching hers. The woman immediately looked down, her face flushed slightly. Manuel continued to stare from the corner of his eyes, and caught her looking up at him from her downcast face with eyes not of shame or embarassment, but something far stronger, more primieval. The Emperor knew when lust was in a woman's eyes, and he smiled before looking down before him. He felt something stirring deep in his heart, as well as down below. Thankfully Byzantine dress still included long and covering cloaks - it would come in useful today.

He had to know who she was.


Thanksgiving services were, in Manuel's mind, the most boring kind. He'd sat through all too many - there'd be services galore after his father had returned from the war against the Turks. There'd be services for his own victory against the Duke of Hampshire. There'd be services for his survival against the 'unknown assassin.' They featured the same liturgies, time and time again.

Yet this time was different, and now, several hours after the service, he sat in the Octagon, alone for a few guards, and smiled as that reason was admitted into the chambers.

"The Lady de Hauteville!" the chamberlain announced with a bow, as the graceful creature he'd eyed through the final part of the service walked forward. Per his request, she'd been admitted through one of the many secret entrances to the palace. The chamberlain was Manuel's man, and would speak nothing of it. Neither would any of the guards - they were all Nubiatakoi, loyal to Manuel since his days as Prince of Aswan. So when he started to speak, he had complete confidence in the secrecy of their conversation.

"You are not from this city, or this Empire," Manuel said. He'd seen the beauties of Konstantinopolis - as the Emperor's eye was known, they fawned and preened themselves daily for his visual pleasure. They grew dull to him. But this, this woman was new, was fresh, and as Manuel could already tell, she was bold...

"Basiliea de Hauteville, Majesty," she bowed deeply to the ground.

"de Hauteville?" Manuel raised an eyebrow, "I had no idea the Normans produced such beautiful women. You look almost like you could be Greek!" She now became dangerous as well - something that, strangely made Manuel even more attracted to her.

She blushed, there was a twitter of laughter. Shyness, but by her eyes shyness only for propriety's sake.

"I am half Greek, my lord. My mother was the scion of the Agyros family."

"Ah!" It all made sense now - the dark hair coupled with those flaming blue eyes. Not as dangerous as she seemed, despite the boldness in those eyes. Not that Manuel was paying attention there - he had to force himself to keep his eyes at her neck and above. "What brings you to Konstantinopolis? You are awfully far from home, my dear."

"My father has sent me. You know of him, Duke Godfrey of Campania?"

Manuel swallowed hard. He permitted himself to look down for a second, but brought his eyes up. The name rattled in his mind, until he finally arrived at a face to go with it. "Yes, eldest son of Roger Borsa, brother to King Bohemond. What news do you bring from the Duke?" His political mind wrestled with one far lower.

"He wishes Your Majesty God's blessings in all your endeavors, and health through all the ages. He says that closer cooperation between yourself and his person might result in collective gain for both parties," she said. Manuel hid a smile - he noticed her voice sped up. There was some real nervousness in her, yet she was fighting to hide it. That only aroused his attention more.

"Nice and diplomatic words, but those are yours," Manuel said with a wry smile. "I know of Godfrey's reputation, and he would speak plainly. You should too, you have nothing to fear from me." It was a test. How would she respond?

There was a moment of indecision, before Manuel saw her brow wrinkle slightly. When she looked up at him, her eyes were radiate. "My lord father proposes an alliance," she looked up at Manuel, and there was no mistaking the boldness in her eyes.

She stepped closer. "One that will be most beneficial to you, and him. "

Manuel's lower mind partially disengaged. There was something calculating about her. She'd weighed her options, despite what he said. She thought for herself, despite the obviousness the attempts to make her sexually appealling to him.

"Ah... and what would be the terms of this arrangement?" Manuel placed a pleasant smile on his face, despite the lascivious one

he wanted to have. Godfrey had a reputation as a clever man, but the Emperor had not thought him to be clever like this, or desperate enough to use his own daughter... Not that Manuel minded - it was simply that for even Godfrey to sink to the level would mean he was starting from a position of extreme weakness...

"Romanion would invade southern Italy and depose King Bohemond. You will gain an eternal ally in my father when he is King, and he will put pressure on the Pope to reconcile Rome with Constantinople," she said. Manuel couldn't help but smile - her voice was pleasing to his ear.

"And?" he asked. That was far too simple.

"And you will get me," Basiliea smiled. Straight teeth, brilliant smile. Manuel felt things stirring again. Quickly, his political mind and his baser mind conferred. Arguments were made, defenses prepared, and finally an agreement was reached. A plan that made use of them all, got Manuel what he wanted, with him giving up little, if anything.

Manuel's smile changed from a grin into something far wider.

"I believe that might be the basis of something we all could be pleased with," he said.


Uh oh! Manuel's plotting - again. What scheme is he cooking? Will the Rimini and the Pope have a plan for this? And how exactly are their first meetings with the legates going? Will Zeno, Romanos, and the other Komnenids start planning some stumbling blocks for our nefarious Emperor? Find out next time on Rome AARisen!