Rome AARisen - a Byzantine AAR
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The regular professor is gone to a conference, so brave/foolish me (We'll find out shortly) volunteered to give the class lecture on Imperialism in the 19th century. Its outside my field for the most part (Early 20th century Russia/Soviet Union), so it should be interesting. 
General_BT said:The regular professor is gone to a conference, so brave/foolish me (We'll find out shortly) volunteered to give the class lecture on Imperialism in the 19th century. Its outside my field for the most part (Early 20th century Russia/Soviet Union), so it should be interesting.
If your lecturing skills are only half as good as your abilities as a story writer you will have your audience hooked. Good luck anyway. Take all the time you need for the next update. I really liked the last few episodes. Everything seems to be drawing towards a climax (conflict Hajnal-Demetrios, Roman-Turkish conflict). In short: I love it.
~Lord Valentine~
You call that slow? To me, slow is two updates per month. Take your time.General_BT said:Next update should come tomorrow, or Friday. Posting's going to slow down next week, as I have another huge prelim exam, and I'm also delivering a lecture (my first ever... kinda nervous) on Tuesday. Maybe one large or two small updates next week. After that, things should pick up again.
Here's a brief mini-update to keep the war moving along...
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April 20th, 1103
To Nikolaios, it seemed as if they had only just disembarked when they were all called to the most passing building in Gaza for a palace to meet the other commanders of the combined expedition. Diplomacy in the Roman eyes was an extension of war, and Nikolaios was keen on seeing how Thrakesios and the Roman commanders dealt with the Normans and their infamous army.
The Romans came clad as a true Roman should be – in their finest colored robes, armor polished and glinting underneath. This was in stark contrast to the Slavonians and the Normans – the Croats came in full military dress, armor shining and weapons sharp, while most of the Norman nobility came without military attire whatsoever. That alone made Nikolaios frown.
Nikolaios found himself in the front row of the assembled Roman officers - as the son of the Emperor, it wasn’t fit that he be placed in back with the other pages and minor aides. Nikolaios of course had insisted that both his brother and young Ioannis stand with him, so all cold get a close hand look at the proceedings.
The most foppishly dressed of the Normans stepped forward, and by the slight change in the reactions of the others, Nikolaios guessed he was the famed (or infamous) Prince Edmund. That suspicion was momentarily confirmed when Thrakesios walked over to the Prince.
“Strategos,” one of Thrakesios’ aides announced, “may I present to you Prince Edmund of England, Duke of Hampshire, Count of Alexandria.”
“Highness,” Thrakesios nodded, and immediately Nikolaios saw the Norman’s face darken. Yet the Roman general kept his head unbowed, and glare down at the shorter Norman prince. He would not bow to anyone, except his Basilieus.
“General Thrakesios,” the Norman nodded guffly, before gesturing to the small entourage behind him. “Allow me to introduce my… um… associates. This is Bohemond de Hauteville, lately from his brother’s estates…”
Nikolaios’ eyes narrowed, and he could feel the room suddenly grow colder. The mere mention of the hated Norman de Hauteville’s would make any Roman leader glare, but to have one in the room…
“Bohemond is my commander of cavalry,” Edmund continued in his prancing, annoying voice. He was completely oblivious to the suddenly icy looks coming from the Romanoi commanders.
As for Bohemond himself, the man was taller than anyone else in the room, with broad features and long, blonde hair that spoke of the Norman Varangian ancestry. In an exception to the rule, he wore dark chain armor that seemed to reflect the deep brown of his eyes. Wrinkles had begun to frame his face, but his size and bulk still spoke of a man more than capable of wielding a sword with crushing force.
“My lords,” he bowed, the deep rumble of his voice sending chills up Nikolaios’ spine. “May I present my son, Tancred,” the elder de Hauteville gestured towards a young man in his twenties. “Together we command the knights of His Highness’ forces.”
“Well met,” Thrakesios said with no attempt to hide the coldness in his voice, nor any nod of any kind. Nikolaios saw Bohemond’s eyes narrow slightly, but the older man merely bowed again and backed away. An unspoken exchange had taken place, and it was apparent Bohemond came away slighted. Nikolaios made a mental note of both of those Normans – it was apparent that they were far more useful, and far more dangerous, than Prince Edmund or any of his flunkies.
“This is Lord Percy Percy, Lord Mayor of Alexandria,” Prince Edmund pointed to a tall man in a foppish hat and ridiculous haircut. “My father said, ‘Edmund, take Percy with you when you go on Crusade and show the world your quality!”
“Um… no, milord,” Percy spoke up. “Your father said ‘Take Percy with you and show the world your lack…”
“Shut up!” Edmund smacked his bannerman with his hat.
“The Normans truly are fools,” Ioannis whispered into Nikolaios’ ear in Greek. To his horror, all eyes turned onto the two boys, until Percy began to giggle.
“See my lord! They are speaking Greek!” Percy cried exuberantly as Edmund glared.
“Shut up! Finally, we have Baldrick, my bondsman.”
Nikolaios didn’t even nod at the man, and neither did Thrakesios. Of the entire retinue, only Michael gave him even a nod of recognition. Bondsmen were servants in Roman eyes, and as such they should act as servants – stand quietly and unobtrusively until called upon.
The Prince continued with his introductions, counts and lords great and small all lined up in their colorful clothes to try to impress the unflappable Romans. Most of them even in their homelands were only second and third sons, who if not for the Crusade and seizure of Egyptian lands, would have been little more than sellswords at home. Here, they fawned over titles and patents of nobility so new and so poor that most wore cloaks of colorful wool, silk being far too expensive for their fledgling estates.
Once again, Nikolaios, as well as the other Romans, were not impressed.
After the end of the introductions, for a few moments the retinue stood uncertainly around – the Romans stiffly waiting for the Prince to say anything, while Edmund inexplicably dithered momentarily after the last of the introductions.
“Ah, well then!” he suddenly blurted out. “Perhaps we should retire for…um… feasting and planning!”
=============================== ================================
The initial night of planning did not go well.
Prince Edmund immediately claimed that he should be the commander of the combined expedition, citing his royal status. Immediately the Prince of Slavonia and Thrakesios vehemently disagreed, Thrakesios going so far as to suggest that if royal birth was to be the prime factor in seniority, that eleven year old Nikolaios was thus the supreme commander of the army. With the ludicrousness of his claim exposed, the embarrassed Norman prince backed down, and Thrakesios, the only one present authorized to command by Emperor Demetrios, took command of the force.
It took another three weeks for the entirety of the Army of the Levant, as the Romans called it, to gather completely, yet once the process was finished, it was a magnificent sight. Edmund had brought 10,000 troops, fair to his word – some 6,000 sergeants and men at arms, clad in mail and armed with shield, sword and spear, 2,000 archers and even men armed with a device called a ‘crossbow’ (which could take down an armored rider from distance), as well as 2,000 Norman knights. The Duke of Slavonia brought only 500 light horse, mostly Croats from the native country, but he also brought 4500 infantry, half of which were sturdy Croat spearmen with large shields but little armor, the other half being light javelinmen. Finally, the Romans themselves brought 1,500 horse – 500 kataphraktoi, and 1,000 lighter cavalry, as well as 6,000 heavy infantry, mostly skoutatoi spearmen. All together, the host mustered nearly 24,000 under arms.
Even more good news would arrive in the army’s camp while it assembled – the Great Sultan’s advance on Jerusalem had slowed.
Further to the north, Demetrios had launched his daring invasion of Mesopotamia, bypassing smaller Saracen forces that were besieging Roman cities and heading straight towards Nisbis itself. Outside that city on the 20th of April, as the Romanoi were disembarking in Gaza, Demetrios unexpectedly encountered the 20,000 reserves the Sultan had left behind, yet despite the confusing and haphazard melee, the Romans won the day, destroying the rearguard at a loss of 3,000 casualties.
Sultan Malik now faced a major strategic problem – there were 18,000 Romans to his rear, and more and more alarming reports came in of a host of some kind assembling on the Palestinian coast. The Sultan reasoned that the Roman Emperor was probably at the lead of the force in the rear – no other Roman commander he knew of would have had the confidence and ability to thread a large column between the Turkish forces at such speed. Malik’s only hope was that Demetrios’ daring had set him up for failure – the Emperor was now behind Turkish lines, with large numbers of Turks in his own rear. Malik resolves to unify these forces in person, to hopefully cut off the head of the Roman beast once and for all.
The Sultan left command of the troops heading towards Jerusalem to Kermaddin al-Talil, while he personally gathered the siege forces, starting with those around Damascus. While Demetrios ransacked northern Mesopotamia, Malik’s new army in Syria grew and grew as the separate Turkish units united under their Great Seljuk. Even after leaving token forces behind to maintain the pressure, the troops from the siege lines of Aleppo, Palmyra and Damascus gave the Sultan a force of 35,000 troops, now bearing down on the Roman Emperor.
Meanwhile, al-Talil continued onward to Jerusalem, putting the city to siege with a force of over 35,000 on May 2nd of 1103. Reports were now streaming in of a large Christian force to the south, and after his siege lines were set, al-Talil took 30,000 of his Turkish forces and set out southward, to seek out the combined Christian forces and destroy them…
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“Was is an extension of diplomacy, and diplomacy is an extension of war. When properly used, they can turn a weak state into a formidable power.” – Nikolaios Komnenos, Demetriad, Chapter 3
April 20th, 1103
To Nikolaios, it seemed as if they had only just disembarked when they were all called to the most passing building in Gaza for a palace to meet the other commanders of the combined expedition. Diplomacy in the Roman eyes was an extension of war, and Nikolaios was keen on seeing how Thrakesios and the Roman commanders dealt with the Normans and their infamous army.
The Romans came clad as a true Roman should be – in their finest colored robes, armor polished and glinting underneath. This was in stark contrast to the Slavonians and the Normans – the Croats came in full military dress, armor shining and weapons sharp, while most of the Norman nobility came without military attire whatsoever. That alone made Nikolaios frown.
Nikolaios found himself in the front row of the assembled Roman officers - as the son of the Emperor, it wasn’t fit that he be placed in back with the other pages and minor aides. Nikolaios of course had insisted that both his brother and young Ioannis stand with him, so all cold get a close hand look at the proceedings.
The most foppishly dressed of the Normans stepped forward, and by the slight change in the reactions of the others, Nikolaios guessed he was the famed (or infamous) Prince Edmund. That suspicion was momentarily confirmed when Thrakesios walked over to the Prince.
“Strategos,” one of Thrakesios’ aides announced, “may I present to you Prince Edmund of England, Duke of Hampshire, Count of Alexandria.”
“Highness,” Thrakesios nodded, and immediately Nikolaios saw the Norman’s face darken. Yet the Roman general kept his head unbowed, and glare down at the shorter Norman prince. He would not bow to anyone, except his Basilieus.
“General Thrakesios,” the Norman nodded guffly, before gesturing to the small entourage behind him. “Allow me to introduce my… um… associates. This is Bohemond de Hauteville, lately from his brother’s estates…”
Nikolaios’ eyes narrowed, and he could feel the room suddenly grow colder. The mere mention of the hated Norman de Hauteville’s would make any Roman leader glare, but to have one in the room…
“Bohemond is my commander of cavalry,” Edmund continued in his prancing, annoying voice. He was completely oblivious to the suddenly icy looks coming from the Romanoi commanders.
As for Bohemond himself, the man was taller than anyone else in the room, with broad features and long, blonde hair that spoke of the Norman Varangian ancestry. In an exception to the rule, he wore dark chain armor that seemed to reflect the deep brown of his eyes. Wrinkles had begun to frame his face, but his size and bulk still spoke of a man more than capable of wielding a sword with crushing force.
“My lords,” he bowed, the deep rumble of his voice sending chills up Nikolaios’ spine. “May I present my son, Tancred,” the elder de Hauteville gestured towards a young man in his twenties. “Together we command the knights of His Highness’ forces.”
“Well met,” Thrakesios said with no attempt to hide the coldness in his voice, nor any nod of any kind. Nikolaios saw Bohemond’s eyes narrow slightly, but the older man merely bowed again and backed away. An unspoken exchange had taken place, and it was apparent Bohemond came away slighted. Nikolaios made a mental note of both of those Normans – it was apparent that they were far more useful, and far more dangerous, than Prince Edmund or any of his flunkies.
“This is Lord Percy Percy, Lord Mayor of Alexandria,” Prince Edmund pointed to a tall man in a foppish hat and ridiculous haircut. “My father said, ‘Edmund, take Percy with you when you go on Crusade and show the world your quality!”
“Um… no, milord,” Percy spoke up. “Your father said ‘Take Percy with you and show the world your lack…”
“Shut up!” Edmund smacked his bannerman with his hat.
“The Normans truly are fools,” Ioannis whispered into Nikolaios’ ear in Greek. To his horror, all eyes turned onto the two boys, until Percy began to giggle.
“See my lord! They are speaking Greek!” Percy cried exuberantly as Edmund glared.
“Shut up! Finally, we have Baldrick, my bondsman.”
Nikolaios didn’t even nod at the man, and neither did Thrakesios. Of the entire retinue, only Michael gave him even a nod of recognition. Bondsmen were servants in Roman eyes, and as such they should act as servants – stand quietly and unobtrusively until called upon.
The Prince continued with his introductions, counts and lords great and small all lined up in their colorful clothes to try to impress the unflappable Romans. Most of them even in their homelands were only second and third sons, who if not for the Crusade and seizure of Egyptian lands, would have been little more than sellswords at home. Here, they fawned over titles and patents of nobility so new and so poor that most wore cloaks of colorful wool, silk being far too expensive for their fledgling estates.
Once again, Nikolaios, as well as the other Romans, were not impressed.
After the end of the introductions, for a few moments the retinue stood uncertainly around – the Romans stiffly waiting for the Prince to say anything, while Edmund inexplicably dithered momentarily after the last of the introductions.
“Ah, well then!” he suddenly blurted out. “Perhaps we should retire for…um… feasting and planning!”
=============================== ================================
The initial night of planning did not go well.
Prince Edmund immediately claimed that he should be the commander of the combined expedition, citing his royal status. Immediately the Prince of Slavonia and Thrakesios vehemently disagreed, Thrakesios going so far as to suggest that if royal birth was to be the prime factor in seniority, that eleven year old Nikolaios was thus the supreme commander of the army. With the ludicrousness of his claim exposed, the embarrassed Norman prince backed down, and Thrakesios, the only one present authorized to command by Emperor Demetrios, took command of the force.
It took another three weeks for the entirety of the Army of the Levant, as the Romans called it, to gather completely, yet once the process was finished, it was a magnificent sight. Edmund had brought 10,000 troops, fair to his word – some 6,000 sergeants and men at arms, clad in mail and armed with shield, sword and spear, 2,000 archers and even men armed with a device called a ‘crossbow’ (which could take down an armored rider from distance), as well as 2,000 Norman knights. The Duke of Slavonia brought only 500 light horse, mostly Croats from the native country, but he also brought 4500 infantry, half of which were sturdy Croat spearmen with large shields but little armor, the other half being light javelinmen. Finally, the Romans themselves brought 1,500 horse – 500 kataphraktoi, and 1,000 lighter cavalry, as well as 6,000 heavy infantry, mostly skoutatoi spearmen. All together, the host mustered nearly 24,000 under arms.
Even more good news would arrive in the army’s camp while it assembled – the Great Sultan’s advance on Jerusalem had slowed.
Further to the north, Demetrios had launched his daring invasion of Mesopotamia, bypassing smaller Saracen forces that were besieging Roman cities and heading straight towards Nisbis itself. Outside that city on the 20th of April, as the Romanoi were disembarking in Gaza, Demetrios unexpectedly encountered the 20,000 reserves the Sultan had left behind, yet despite the confusing and haphazard melee, the Romans won the day, destroying the rearguard at a loss of 3,000 casualties.
Sultan Malik now faced a major strategic problem – there were 18,000 Romans to his rear, and more and more alarming reports came in of a host of some kind assembling on the Palestinian coast. The Sultan reasoned that the Roman Emperor was probably at the lead of the force in the rear – no other Roman commander he knew of would have had the confidence and ability to thread a large column between the Turkish forces at such speed. Malik’s only hope was that Demetrios’ daring had set him up for failure – the Emperor was now behind Turkish lines, with large numbers of Turks in his own rear. Malik resolves to unify these forces in person, to hopefully cut off the head of the Roman beast once and for all.
The Sultan left command of the troops heading towards Jerusalem to Kermaddin al-Talil, while he personally gathered the siege forces, starting with those around Damascus. While Demetrios ransacked northern Mesopotamia, Malik’s new army in Syria grew and grew as the separate Turkish units united under their Great Seljuk. Even after leaving token forces behind to maintain the pressure, the troops from the siege lines of Aleppo, Palmyra and Damascus gave the Sultan a force of 35,000 troops, now bearing down on the Roman Emperor.
Meanwhile, al-Talil continued onward to Jerusalem, putting the city to siege with a force of over 35,000 on May 2nd of 1103. Reports were now streaming in of a large Christian force to the south, and after his siege lines were set, al-Talil took 30,000 of his Turkish forces and set out southward, to seek out the combined Christian forces and destroy them…
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So it seems that Demetrios' opening move isn't working too badly - I'm curious about the actual Seljuk forces moving to stop him.
5,000 troops against Jerusalem is probably enough to make the city fall, considering the distances your narrative implies.
Most importantly, I'm looking forward to seeing how this war will change Nikolaios, on many levels. War is sometimes a messy affair, and I can't help but think the future reserves us grim news.
5,000 troops against Jerusalem is probably enough to make the city fall, considering the distances your narrative implies.
Most importantly, I'm looking forward to seeing how this war will change Nikolaios, on many levels. War is sometimes a messy affair, and I can't help but think the future reserves us grim news.
Things are getting dicey. Our hero might have to accept a settlement in peace without total victory, unless he manages to kill the Sultan.
Hmm the battle for Jerusalem will be a big one, and most likely quite important in terms of morale and strategic position.
All I have to say is beware your allies. Edmund may not be the sharpest knife in the butcher shop but to compensate he's probably got cutting edges on both sides. And on the handle.
Yep, but to be honest I think he is not the one which one has to concern oneself with. But if Bohemond on the other hand is only half as cunning and aggressive as he was in reality there is more than enough potential trouble ahead.Nikolai said:Judging from what we know so far, I doubt he's the sharpest spoon.
Anyway another interesting teaser. Eagerly awaiting the main update.
~Lord Valentine~
Working with foreigners on the reconquest of Imperial territory is an all around dangerous propisition. Hopefully they can pull it off without getting burned.
First I'd like to thank everyone that voted for this story in the AARChoice awards... it means alot and keeps me wanting to write!
No major update yet (I'm working on it! ), but here's another brief teaser for everyone to enjoy...
===================== ====================================
"They mounted at once and they came to the battlefield.
They hissed like serpents, they roared like lions,
They soared like eagles, and the two clashed.
- From the romance of Digenis Acrites, 11th century
June 2nd, 1103
"Basilieus..."
Demetrios did not bother to look up - he already knew what his young cousin Georgios was referring to in a shaky, frightened voice. Demetrios himself was busy kicking at the dirt beneath his tyrian purple boots, making lines in the shifting sands of northern Mesopotamia. It was a continual fight, as the hot winds blowing from the west kept undoing his work.
"I know... the Turks are here. All of them," Demetrios said impatiently, looking down at the sand. Satisfied, he finally looked up at Georgios and the other tagmata commanders. He was pleased to see only Georgios was looking at the distant storm of dust that signalled the Sultan's approach. It was impossible to miss it - the huge cloud was the only sight on the horizon for miles around. For officers to not pay it much heed spoke well of the Emperor's impromptu speech the night before to parts of the army.
Since the army had burned Nisbis on the 28th of April, it'd played cat and mouse with Turkish forces arriving from seemingly all points at once. On both the 4th of May and the 19th of May, the Emperor and his now dwindling army of 16,000 soldiers had evaded encirclement, or broken away after a brief skirmish. Yet yesterday, the constant skittishness of being on the move finally erupted - a soldier ran through the camp screaming that he had found skulls while digging a latrine. Then more reports, and the men began to wonder if it was all a sign from God.
It'd taken young Georgios to unravel the mystery - the army was camped some distance from an ancient town named Arbela, and the younger Komnenos remembered from his lessons that Alexandros Megos over a thousand years before fought the Persians here. The young man's answer reminded the Emperor of what his own son would have said - Nikolaios would have found that answer immediately.That very night, the Basilieus had taken the unheard of step of going from unit to unit, telling the soldiers what the skulls were, and claiming they were an omen of good - Greeks had fought and died here before, but won a great victory, just like they were going to do on the morrow against the fearsome Turks.
Demetrios finally looked up at the enormous cloud of dust, kicked up by what his scouts estimated were over 40,000 Turks - a vast host with almost as many horse as there were soldiers of all kinds in the army of the Romanoi. For all the speed of his advance, Demetrios had slipped too far into Mesopotamia, and now his way back along the Euphrates was shortly to be blocked.
The Basilieus had gained an immense amount of respect for the aged Turkish Sultan. Malik had launched a well-planned invasion that made full use of his superior numbers and Roman distractions. When Demetrios had opted for the unexpected, hoping to stun his oponent into inaction - Malik had responded by marshalling his forces and going after the Emperor himself. Only now did Demetrios realize that somewhere, that had been a part of the Sultan's plan after all...
Demetrios saw death in that cloud... tens of thousands of spears, swords and arrows directed at him. He felt a slight chill run up the back of his spine, despite the desert heat and his heavy armor.
Malik was coming for him.
"Majesty?"
Georgios' nervous question snapped Demetrios back to the present. He blinked once, then twice, and shoved the fear back, just far enough it wouldn't show on his face. He'd fought against odds before. His army was man for man better armed and better equipped. Yet Malik had sheer numbers, and this broad, flat ground...
"Georgios," the Emperor was surprised by how calm, even jovial, his voice was as he slapped a hand on his cousin's back. "You're father would be proud of you today, you know that? Uncle Isaakios always said you were the general among his sons!" The young man grinned crookedly, his nervous eyes drawn away from the oncoming enemy. The wind came up again, and Demetrios felt it on his cheek, as the Roman banners began to flap in the breeze. Demetrios smiled, before guiding Georgios' gaze further, towards the plans in the sand below.
"Now, Georgios, I want you to take your tagmata and form here, along the center. Arkadios and Anastasios will back up your skoutatoi with their blades. Ioannis! Form your cavalry here..."
As he planned, the Emperor swore he could hear the noise of boots on the wind...
No major update yet (I'm working on it!
), but here's another brief teaser for everyone to enjoy...===================== ====================================
"They mounted at once and they came to the battlefield.
They hissed like serpents, they roared like lions,
They soared like eagles, and the two clashed.
- From the romance of Digenis Acrites, 11th century
June 2nd, 1103
"Basilieus..."
Demetrios did not bother to look up - he already knew what his young cousin Georgios was referring to in a shaky, frightened voice. Demetrios himself was busy kicking at the dirt beneath his tyrian purple boots, making lines in the shifting sands of northern Mesopotamia. It was a continual fight, as the hot winds blowing from the west kept undoing his work.
"I know... the Turks are here. All of them," Demetrios said impatiently, looking down at the sand. Satisfied, he finally looked up at Georgios and the other tagmata commanders. He was pleased to see only Georgios was looking at the distant storm of dust that signalled the Sultan's approach. It was impossible to miss it - the huge cloud was the only sight on the horizon for miles around. For officers to not pay it much heed spoke well of the Emperor's impromptu speech the night before to parts of the army.
Since the army had burned Nisbis on the 28th of April, it'd played cat and mouse with Turkish forces arriving from seemingly all points at once. On both the 4th of May and the 19th of May, the Emperor and his now dwindling army of 16,000 soldiers had evaded encirclement, or broken away after a brief skirmish. Yet yesterday, the constant skittishness of being on the move finally erupted - a soldier ran through the camp screaming that he had found skulls while digging a latrine. Then more reports, and the men began to wonder if it was all a sign from God.
It'd taken young Georgios to unravel the mystery - the army was camped some distance from an ancient town named Arbela, and the younger Komnenos remembered from his lessons that Alexandros Megos over a thousand years before fought the Persians here. The young man's answer reminded the Emperor of what his own son would have said - Nikolaios would have found that answer immediately.That very night, the Basilieus had taken the unheard of step of going from unit to unit, telling the soldiers what the skulls were, and claiming they were an omen of good - Greeks had fought and died here before, but won a great victory, just like they were going to do on the morrow against the fearsome Turks.
Demetrios finally looked up at the enormous cloud of dust, kicked up by what his scouts estimated were over 40,000 Turks - a vast host with almost as many horse as there were soldiers of all kinds in the army of the Romanoi. For all the speed of his advance, Demetrios had slipped too far into Mesopotamia, and now his way back along the Euphrates was shortly to be blocked.
The Basilieus had gained an immense amount of respect for the aged Turkish Sultan. Malik had launched a well-planned invasion that made full use of his superior numbers and Roman distractions. When Demetrios had opted for the unexpected, hoping to stun his oponent into inaction - Malik had responded by marshalling his forces and going after the Emperor himself. Only now did Demetrios realize that somewhere, that had been a part of the Sultan's plan after all...
Demetrios saw death in that cloud... tens of thousands of spears, swords and arrows directed at him. He felt a slight chill run up the back of his spine, despite the desert heat and his heavy armor.
Malik was coming for him.
"Majesty?"
Georgios' nervous question snapped Demetrios back to the present. He blinked once, then twice, and shoved the fear back, just far enough it wouldn't show on his face. He'd fought against odds before. His army was man for man better armed and better equipped. Yet Malik had sheer numbers, and this broad, flat ground...
"Georgios," the Emperor was surprised by how calm, even jovial, his voice was as he slapped a hand on his cousin's back. "You're father would be proud of you today, you know that? Uncle Isaakios always said you were the general among his sons!" The young man grinned crookedly, his nervous eyes drawn away from the oncoming enemy. The wind came up again, and Demetrios felt it on his cheek, as the Roman banners began to flap in the breeze. Demetrios smiled, before guiding Georgios' gaze further, towards the plans in the sand below.
"Now, Georgios, I want you to take your tagmata and form here, along the center. Arkadios and Anastasios will back up your skoutatoi with their blades. Ioannis! Form your cavalry here..."
As he planned, the Emperor swore he could hear the noise of boots on the wind...
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Signs and signs and portents!
But surely they are saying Europe shall triumph over Asia here, again, or am I misreading?
But surely they are saying Europe shall triumph over Asia here, again, or am I misreading?
RGB said:
I fear it might be a "Leonidas-style" triumph. I really ask myself what would happen if Demetrios where to be killed. Who would rule? Nikolaos seems to young still to rule in his own right. Hajnal is a Latin foreigner, something that was normally enough to exclude you from imperial power in Constantinople and I can't see any clear second man in the state who might take over.
Anyway you have achieved a maximum of suspense. I am eagerly awaiting the revelation.
~Lord Valentine~
You are aware that many writAARs could call your "brief teaser" an update, aren't you?
I'm eagerly waiting for the tale of that battle, and of its consequences. So many roads ahead, and it's time for you to choose one to follow
I'm eagerly waiting for the tale of that battle, and of its consequences. So many roads ahead, and it's time for you to choose one to follow