Chapter XIII: The Last Words of an Old Man
“Is it our only choice?” the man asked, knowing the answer.
“We have been waiting for too long already – the Persians will reach us soon!”
Alexios looked southwards from the castle’s window; he could see the smoke rising from Rustavi which was only a day’s march from Tbilisi.
“We have managed to keep the Colchis valley clear of enemy troops, but we don’t know how long our men can hold the mountain passes”, leader of Georgia’s Alani vassals put his hand on the king’s shoulder, “I know how you feel – I too had to flee from my home.”
Georgia was in crisis. The Kipchak tribes of the north were swarming down upon them and the Khwarezmian Empire had laid their greedy eyes on the Caucasus kingdom. The only area still under Georgian control was the Colchis valley, situated between Caucasus Major and the Pontic Mountains.
Areas under Georgian control marked with blue, the occupied Alania has been coloured red. Most of the land shown on map belongs to the Kingdom of Georgia.
“We will continue from Kutaisi to Poti and across the Black Sea to Trebizon. It should be a safe haven.”
The Greek king shook his head; even if they did make it to Trebizon the future of Georgia looked dim.
***
September 1214 – Seleucia
The castle lied on a hill next to the actual city and it was roughly half an hour’s horse ride from the port. William was glad his distant Armenian relative had invited him for a visit to the Principality, giving him an excuse to escape the tense atmosphere at home.
Romanos and Osmond were constantly fighting with each other over Anna’s and her half brother’s union. The reason for sending Anna away from him had been the fact that they were siblings after all, but now she was married and pregnant to another brother. Romanos claimed he would have acted more responsibly around her and blamed both Manuel and the Norman marshal for letting things go out of hands.
William’s mother Marie was trying to help Osmond and Manuel sort things out between the two brothers and succeeded to a decree; they were no longer on each other’s throats and could even do the necessary work together, but their relationship was still strained by the cocktail of emotions both had gone through during the past year.
Osmond, both brother and uncle to William, was accepting the idea of his Greek roots and brotherhood with the Komnenids, but there was something suspicious about the man, albeit William quite couldn’t figure out what. He and his new uncle-brother were getting on relatively well; Osmond was impressed by the young heir’s affection for Norman culture and thought of him as a reliable friend and ally whenever the situation broke out of hands with his new siblings. The feeling wasn’t exactly mutual, but William knew there was fault in all of them. In the beginning he was constantly getting in between the three brothers, but things were starting to cool down – in fact, the atmosphere whenever his uncles and father were around each other was so chilly that it was hard to believe they were living on a subtropical island.
The castle’s strong, round towers glimmered in the morning sun as William arrived to the city of Seleucia with his entourage. The city was bigger than he had thought, most buildings were naturally made out of stone. They rode in through the castle gates and were greeted by the garrison commander.
“The lord is waiting for you in the dining hall”, he informed them and guided the guests inside.
The prince was old, soon reaching the respectable age of 60, and dressed in a long and warm fur coat he wore day and night.
“Ah, young William!” Leon greeted him with a wide smile; he was just finishing his breakfast. William could see the man wasn’t in best of shape; his skin was pale and he kept coughing all the time. He walked to his distant relative and the men kissed each other on the cheek.
Prince Leon II of Armenia
“Are you hungry, my boy?” the prince asked William who informed him they had eaten just before arriving at the port.
Leon pat the young heir’s back: “let’s go for a stroll around the castle walls, I need to talk to you.”
It was a chilly and misty morning, but the sun’s caring rays kept the two men warm as they walked slowly along the castle wall, William supporting the old prince.
Leon wanted to stop; the men gazed at the city spreading below them: “Isn’t it beautiful my boy?” the old prince asked his guest and sighed, “I am afraid I can’t enjoy its sight much longer.”
The two men started walking again and the prince continued: “As you can see my time is coming to an end”, the man hunched and started coughing intensively and young William asked if he was all right. The old man couldn’t speak, but raised his hand to signal he’d be fine. He straightened himself up and pat on his chest to calm down his lungs.
“As I was saying”, he continued, “your father will soon take my place.” Leon looked worried: “I am not sure how well he will manage”, pointing out Manuel’s lack of interest to properly run a state and his willingness to assign tasks to others dues to his laziness, “but I have hope in you, my boy. Your father has written to me of your great skills and interests in statesmanship.”
The old prince pointed north towards the mountains: “Do you know what’s behind those peaks?”
“Turks”, William answered.
“Turks! And hordes of them. For now they are more eager to fight with each other, but you can expect them not to ignore us once they get their act together. I am afraid your father is too incompetent to keep my people safe if they decide to expand southwards”, the man started coughing again and continued, “We are safe for now as part of the Empire, but I can tell your father isn’t willing to acknowledge my liege.”
William had forgotten that Armenian Cilicia was once again part of the Byzantine realm thanks to the great autonomy it enjoyed, but he knew as well as the prince did that Manuel would break away from the Empire – the Komnenids didn’t get along too well with the Romans unless they were the ones sitting on the throne.
“The Byzantine officers and troops are already preparing for their withdrawal; they won’t cause you trouble but news spread fast”, he was getting back to the Turks, “You must find the means to enforce this little principality’s defences while your father still sits on the throne.”
William nod, he understood the threat posed by the Sultanate in Anatolia’s interior.
The old man coughed again and sighed: “If only my father knew the throne would pass onto his brother’s grandson through a maternal line”, the prince looked to the sky, “he’d descend back to earth at the instant and I would have to bear with his furious rage.” The two men laughed.
A chart showing William's and Manuel's relation to the Rubenid family.
“Have you thought about marriage yet, my boy?” Leon changed subject, “My daughter will reach maturity soon and...”
William raised his hand to tell the old man not to bother with it: “An entourage has been sent to Portugal to escort my future wife to this side of the Mediterranean. Her name is Joana de Borgonha and from what I’ve gathered she seems to be a great catch.”
“Ahh, the granddaughter of the Portuguese King”, the old prince sneered, “I am impressed.”
The prince started to suddenly cough again, but more furiously than before. He collapsed on his knees pressing his chest with both arms, trying to calm himself down. William tried to help the man by patting his back but it didn’t seem to help.
“Remember the Turks!” the man managed to say as the coughing got more intense.
“William!” the man screamed as if had forgotten something, “the two cousins... *cough* be warned... *cough*don’t...” William couldn’t understand half of what the man was trying to say. He started to cough blood and the young heir panicked. Leon lost his conscious and William turned this on his side so he wouldn’t choke on his own blood. He yelled for guards who rushed to the scene and helped him carry the old man back to his bedchamber.
The whole court and many of the servants were gathered outside the prince’s door. He was inside alone with the bishop and a doctor. William noticed a younger woman standing further back from rest of the crowd. Her eyes were in tears and the young heir asked for her name, trying to start a discussion and comfort her. The woman looked at him with her sad eyes without saying a word and slowly walked away sobbing.
“Who was that?” William asked the old prince’s much younger wife.
The woman looked angrily at him and answered with a cold tone: “She’s Anahid, my husband’s lover.”
William was embarrassed and decided it was better not to ask any more questions while they waited for news about the state of Leon’s health.
The door opened and the bishop stepped outside, looking down at his feet. Everyone knew what his words would be before he even started: “The Prince has passed away.”