Part 10- A Fool's World
November 30th, 1083
There were crows circling overhead. In all likelihood, there must be crows circling over the entire Empire. From Anatolia to Constantia to the Aegean to Epirus, Byzantium has become a banquet for crows. The thought made Andronikos look down, away from the sky.
First he looked at the horizon: the sun was setting. It was setting on Byzantium. It was setting on Andronikos. He wondered if he would ever see the sun rise again.
Then he looked at countryside: the planes of Thrace. They were strewn with the dead and dying, screams and blood and filth and mud. What had they died for? Andronikos no longer knew. No... that was a lie. They died for him. They died for a fool.
Then he looked at himself: kneeling, on the ground, caked in dirt and blood and spit and ash. He looked at his hands, he looked at the shackles that bound them. Basileus Andronikos. What a sorry sight he must be.
He heard a commotion behind him, he knew what it meant: brother, come to pay him a visit. He looked back- Jesus, he swore he could see the fat jiggle even beneath the armor. Andronikos spared a moment to mourn the fate of what poor smith must have crafted it. He should have charged twice the usual fee.
"
Brother!" That... cheerfulness. He had tried to prepare himself, but it grated just the safe. This would be tort"So good to
see you. It's been, how long? Six, seven years?" Michael began to dismount from his horse, and Andronikos could swear he saw relief in the beasts eyes. Eventually the Basileos managed to wobble off, a sad, ungainly sight.
Michael walked, well... rolled really, until he faced his brother. Even that little bit of exertion was enough to make him break a sweat.
"Too long, too long by half brother." Michael looked down at him, smiling. Cherish it you bastard. "So tell me brother, how
are you? I hear you've been on quite an adventure!" Andronikos looked away, and that's when he saw him. Euphrosyne. Atop his horse, starring at him.
Euphrosyne. He cursed the name silently. When Andronikos moved to attack Michael, his marshal was nowhere in sight. That made the numbers between the two sides fairly even. He had still been sure of victory, then. His brother was the fool and he the conqueror. When the Doux at last arrived with his thousand men, it had made him smile, victory would be his. And indeed Euphrosyne had been the kingmaker that day.
The golden eagle joined the battle, and was chaos. All battles were chaos, war was chaos manifest, it took sometime for Andronikos to realize what had just happened. Euphrosyne had not come to seal his victory. Euphrosyne had come to crown his brother. The battle became a rout, and Andronikos now wore irons, betrayed by his own marshal.
Michael noticed Andronikos's gaze and intervened. "You'll have to forgive him brother. This war has been very
hard on him. You see, Euphrosyne is that rarest kind of man, a general that actually cares about his troops. And I regret to say that you slaughtered those troops on the walls of Constantinople." He looked up at the rider with what appeared to be pity in his eyes. "I fear he will never recover."
"Traitor." He couldn't help himself
"And what does that make you brother? Hm?" Michael moved to stroke his hair, Andronikos jerked himself away. "You set this Empire aflame from end to end, is that not treason? To sack Constantinople itself?"
"I was trying to save it from a fool." The sound of his own voice surprised him: thick, battered.
Michael plunked down beside him.
"Let me tell you a story, brother: Two men are camped in the plains of Africa. In the distance, they see a lion. The lion begins to advance. One man gets up, the other man begins to put on his boots. The first man looks down 'why are you putting on your boots? You'll never outrun the lion' the second man responds 'I don't have to outrun the lion, I just have to outrun you.'" Andronikos hated Michael's stories almost as much as he hated his brother. Just be done with it.
"You're point?"
"It's a Fool's world Andronikos. I fully admit it, I'm no great conqueror, I will inspire no great songs or tales of valor. But I don't need to be clever, nor do I need to be a genius. I just need to be less of a fool than my enemies. And you, dear brother, are a
great enemy to have." He could see from the gleam in his brother's eyes that he was enjoying this, every minute of it.
"The whole Empire despises you."
"Let them. Oh I love the names they give me: The Pig-Emperor. The Royal Round. Michael the Careless. Let them call me the most inept Basileos in history. So long as I remain Basileos."
Andronikos sighed. He was weary. Six years of war were coming down on his shoulders, all at once. He looked down- his soiled feet. "Just kill me."
"Kill you?!" Michael recoilled, paused "Kill my own brother? Why, I'm offended you'd think me capable of such a thing." Another pause "There's no reason to kill you brother, you have proven yourself to be quite...
harmless. I might even set you free, after a while." Again, a pause "I want you around for a long time, Andronikos."