SUENIK THE BELEAGUERED
CHAPTER 74 - MY KNIFE SHALL BE YOUR SAVIOUR
(1176-1178)
If I were a war mongering maniac, I'd consider the war with Leon to be a complete anti-climax. After all, a white peace before anybody has even drawn a sword would certainly have most career soldiers sighing dramatically and pining for the thrill of battle.
Thankfully, I am not most soldiers and I see an offer of an honourable peace with Leon to be an amicable solution that means less dead sons of Suenik.
Somehow I feel that my critics won't see if that way.
Anyway, with that out of the way, I thought it was about time that I introduced you all to the crown prince.
He's not much of a strategist, but he's smart and astute in the ways of the court. I think he'll do just fine.
I then receive word from heretic-land...sorry, I meant to say the capital city, that brings a smile (an evil smile no less) to my face. Do any of you remember that big haired, bearded buffoon my wife had a brief tryst with?
Well, it seems like he has converted to Bogomilism (or whatever you call it). With any luck someone in black robes will choose to set him on fire in the name of God.
Speaking of wilful murder in God's name, it appears that some of my vassals are indulging in a little bit of crusading of their own, and want my help.
In this instance it appears that Suenik is the wronged party, so reluctantly I agree to help...
...by which I mean I send a bunch of my vassals' armies into battle. In my name and the name of God naturally.
However, given that I'm concerned with grand strategy I believe it's safer...sorry more efficient...if I direct the campaign from behind the front lines...several hundred miles behind the front lines. It's better that way. I don't get distracted (or killed) by arrows whizzing through the air or mad Arabs rushing noisily at me with Jihad on their minds.
Thankfully it's all over with very quickly and my vassals secure me a new subject, one who appears to have a very illustrious ancestor.
Somehow I feel as if my father would approve of me having this man call me master...
...not that I'm still seeking his approval you understand.
I'm my own man, I'm successful so I have absolutely no need to try and make a dead man proud (a dead man who never once said he loved me).
So, with my new vassal in tow, and not at all trying to prove to my father that I'm an able and capable ruler, I add another title to my collection.
The coronation WAS going smoothly until one of my daughter's friends had to go and ruin it all by flapping her arms and noisely shouting something. While this is going on I'm sadly too far back (sitting on my Dias of Imperial Authority as I am) to hear what she's saying, but a lot of people seem to get upset by it and she runs off into the crowd just as some people start lighting torches and asking around for rope.
I question my bishop about it afterwards but he just sighs and says "These things normally happen in pairs."
Puzzled, I question my daughter who reacts somewhat oddly. And by "somewhat oddly" I mean she laughs hysterically, starts bashing her head against the wall, all the time repeating "Her arrival is at hand - we shall all be saved by the Red Messiah."
How odd.
I leave her but instruct her husband to ensure she has a lie down. I think she must be tired or pregnant or something.
Women can be funny when they're pregnant.
Mind you, I can't help but wonder what she meant about "the Red Messiah"? That's really puzzling me.
With some spare time on my hands after the coronation, my first action is to order a defensive line to be built in the heart of the Empire.
One can never be TOO safe!
The Emir of Granada seems intent on proving me right when he strikes some months later.
This is the sort of war I like - when the enemy is hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of miles away. I pat my marshal on the back and give him a friendly "go get 'em boy" before handing him over an exorbitant sum of money for boat related expenses.
I don't think anyone from Suenik has ever travelled that far. He should be honoured. Meanwhile I tour my shiny new fortifications and remark on how sturdy they look. When I reach Al Jazira I enquire as to whether or not some kind of re-enactment or drill is taking place in the grounds of the fortress.
The garrison commander nervously points out that no, that army is in fact the army of the enemy - and an army headed by a man with far too many vowels in his name.
I thank the commander and then suggest that perhaps he should take some men, ride out, and scatter the filthy Moorish hordes. He looks at me as if I'm the world's best strategist (which I think I am to be fair), gathers his troops and puts the infidels to the sword. Soon after the Emir's lackey comes to me with an offer which I accept.
And shortly afterwards the Emir wants peace too.
This annoys my bloodthirsty vassals who wanted to press onwards (and my marshal who was busy enjoying the sunshine that his cruise of the Med was providing) but peace is best for the realm.
Months pass...
Peace is good...
What is NOT good is realising that your wife is a filthy, adulterous whore who gets her kicks sleeping with little Russian counts...
Counts? Maybe I used too many vowels there...
A little idle flirtation I can accept - out and out adultery I cannot. She has made a mockery of me and our marriage vows, and by that reasoning she has mocked God too.
She has to die.
As for lover boy...
...I am not going to risk the lives of the people of the Empire by declaring war on this Davyd Rurikovich (whoever he is) and risking reprisal from his master. My revenge is mine to have - my subjects' lives are not there for me to throw away in a personal vendetta.
Davyd Rurikovich - something tells me he'll get his just desserts in the afterlife.
No sooner has the blood been cleaned from the executioner's axe than I go and arrange a new marriage. This time I pick someone with a good, Suenikian name and values.
She's very bright, and some of my advisors point out that her love of piranhas and tendency to laugh maniacally at the slightest little thing have all the hallmarks of her being a "classically Suenikian woman". I'm puzzled when they look worried when they say this. Maybe they're just nervous at the thought of arranging another Imperial wedding?
I'm happy though. The thought of a decent woman around me, instead of being shackled to some deceitful, slutty harpy, spirits away all of my worries and leaves me walking on sunshine. I defy the world to try and ruin my day, because it's just not going to happ...
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What will Krikor do? Will Mira turn out to be a good wife or will she turn out to be a classic Suenikian noblewoman? What of the red messiah? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Suenik - Land of the Beleaguered!