SUENIK THE BELEAGUERED
CHAPTER 77 - SOMEBODY PINCH ME...
(1181-1182)
Although they're making encouraging noises I get the impression that my nobles aren't exactly taking the war with Mecca seriously...
...and thankfully the Sheik of Mecca reinforces this by giving them a sound kicking.
Obviously by "thankfully" I mean "thankfully Suenik’s leaders might shape up".
I'm
not thankful that lots of young Suenikains have died.
That would be wrong.
MWUHA-hahaha.
Er...
Sorry.
I think I must be getting upset by all the nasty whisperings at court.
I mean - honestly... I'm a war leader! How
dare they!
I decide to hammer home the point by making it quite clear (from the confines of my castle) to the Sheik of Mecca that I'm his rightful master.
Then the Catholics show their true colours. Here I am, fighting the good fight against the heart of the Islamic faith and what do they do?
Maybe I should book that trip to Rome I was considering and have words with the Pope...
My ponderings are interrupted by news from the front that my generals have decided to stop arsing around and treat the war with Mecca seriously.
Sure, Mecca's a nobody but this is a case of Orthodoxy against Islam - we need to assert our authority boys! Pull it together!
I may be telepathic. This news, just in from Rome:
Jerusalem, eh? I forgot about that. Maybe I should pay it a visit too...
My musing on future holiday destinations is rudely shattered by the news that my idiotic, layabout half-German kid brother, the so called Holy Roman Emperor, has decided that he wants to impress the Pope with his zealous treatment of heathens by taking a long, bloody route to Jerusalem - through my Empire.
They may be Muslims but they're MY Muslims! Leave them alone, junior!
As I raise the Empire to a war footing I know
exactly what to do.
Yes! There is an outpost of the Holy Roman Empire right next door to the capital. Clearly this is a target of
huge strategic importance so I raise my personal guard, deliver a resounding speech promising glory, honour and dead Germans in abundance and begin the short trot towards my brother's neighbouring province. Hopefully by the time he's made it over here from wherever in Europe he is, this little province will be aflame.
Elsewhere, the dismal performance of my forces in Mecca (read: most nobles dead or fleeing) has upset the red messiah...
I make an executive decision and decide that if my nobles can't sort this out then the solution to the problem of Mecca's stubborn resistance is clearly...
...a bunch of blood thirsty Vikings who were formally in the employ of the emperor of Byzantium before he became a bit rubbish.
Some people find this more exciting than others. As my little Norse army departs for Mecca I find cousin Toros running around the palace wearing a blonde wig and a pointed helmet yelling "VAL-HALLA! NORSE POWER!" at the top of his voice.
No idea what that's all about.
I eventually arrive at my brother's province but unfortunately find an army already there...led by my brother.
This is awkward.
I sound the charge.
Our armies clash.
As the battle rages my brother seeks me out, drawn to my standard deep in the Suenikian reserves (where I'm co-ordinating some extremely important manoeuvres you understand).
Impetuously he yells a challenge.
My men turn to me.
The Germans turn to look at me.
Word spreads down the ranks.
Nobody is fighting anymore - they're all staring at me.
I step forward, my hand on my sword, looking imploringly at my brother, my eyes begging him to back down. I may not be the bravest, but when I have to fight few can stand against me.
My brother is a wet-behind-the-ears nineteen year old who was intended for a career in the Church.
Our eyes meet.
His face is alive with excitement – the rush of his first real battle and a desire to prove himself.
I may be the youngest son it says
but glory will be mine.
He raises his sword.
I draw, and strike.
He falls to the earth, clutching his stomach - hands uselessly trying to stem the tide of crimson spilling from the massive gash in his chest.
And then he does the oddest thing.
He laughs, coughs, smiles despite the pain and points his sword in my direction before whispering something to one of his officers who has rushed to his side. The man looks goggle-eyed at his liege who simply nods and smiles. Shrugging, the soldier takes his emperor's sword, points it at me and yells to the assembled German host.
"ALL HAIL THE NEW HOLY ROMAN EMPEROR!"
I rush to my brother's side and he pulls me close, his breath coming in short gasps. Despite the pain he grins.
"I never even had a chance to practice making children never mind having any of my own."
With that, Ruben I, the first Armenian Holy Roman Emperor dies and passes his crown to Emperor Krikor II of Suenik.
What do I do now?
What next??? Can this get any more bizarre? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Suenik - Land of the Beleaguered!