Six legitimate or legitimized branches. That’s… well, Byzantine.
At least you’ll have no lack of courtiers.
At least you’ll have no lack of courtiers.
Rome AARisen - a Byzantine AAR
- Thread starter General_BT
- Start date
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
And that's the sad part about marshals - they tend to die.
--------
Nice family tree. Very compact.
--------
History is fodder for simple men to ooh and aah at the cruelties of a bygone age while allowing themselves to be played and exploited by the princes of the day.
Their condemnation means absolutely nothing.
--------
The Monomach hat!!!!
Sounds somewhat familiar. Mwaha!
--------
Nice family tree. Very compact.
--------
History is fodder for simple men to ooh and aah at the cruelties of a bygone age while allowing themselves to be played and exploited by the princes of the day.
Their condemnation means absolutely nothing.
--------
The Monomach hat!!!!
Sounds somewhat familiar. Mwaha!
Yep, definitely too many boys in the Komnenos family. And no doubt they (or their supporters) will all feel they have a right to rule. And with Nikolaos at something of a personal nadir it's questionable how secure his hold on the throne is.
Mettermck - Yes, there's a northern move next update, which may surprise alot of you!
Estonianzulu - That will be a good question - Michael will grow up thinking he is a legitimate heir. His mother and father know the truth (as does Siddiqa who is in hiding) - the question is, does anyone else?
Fulcrumvale - Yes, sadly. Nikolaios will not be remembered in the best light, especially considering the people he'll be sandwiched in between.
RGB - Marshals do tend to die... not so far in this campaign, but later on the Empire goes through Marshals rather quickly. And I think the northern turn won't quite turn out like the one in your AAR...
And to everyone regarding the family tree - yes, the Komnenos family is already widespread - 6 potential branches of the royal family, three legimitate, one illegitimate, and two legitimized by fiat. These will explode into multiple branches of their own. Some, like the branches from Manuel, will become utterly pervasive (those descendants got Demetrios' virility genes, evidently). Needless to say, by the time the game for this AAR ended in 1400 (sadly due to repeated game crashes ), there was literally two or three Komnenids for every day of the year, and then some, most with titles of some kind, and all having some (mostly very very distant) claim to the throne. Led to some exciting times.
Estonianzulu - That will be a good question - Michael will grow up thinking he is a legitimate heir. His mother and father know the truth (as does Siddiqa who is in hiding) - the question is, does anyone else?
Fulcrumvale - Yes, sadly. Nikolaios will not be remembered in the best light, especially considering the people he'll be sandwiched in between.
RGB - Marshals do tend to die... not so far in this campaign, but later on the Empire goes through Marshals rather quickly. And I think the northern turn won't quite turn out like the one in your AAR...
And to everyone regarding the family tree - yes, the Komnenos family is already widespread - 6 potential branches of the royal family, three legimitate, one illegitimate, and two legitimized by fiat. These will explode into multiple branches of their own. Some, like the branches from Manuel, will become utterly pervasive (those descendants got Demetrios' virility genes, evidently). Needless to say, by the time the game for this AAR ended in 1400 (sadly due to repeated game crashes
), there was literally two or three Komnenids for every day of the year, and then some, most with titles of some kind, and all having some (mostly very very distant) claim to the throne. Led to some exciting times.
General_BT said:And I think the northern turn won't quite turn out like the one in your AAR...
Well I didn't exactly expect it to.
As for too many Komnenids - I like f12/die a lot.
VILenin said:Pruning the excess branches of the family tree?
Yeah, especially those that consistently tend to produce mad, depressed, 0/0/0/0 types who have no chance of inheriting anything but make your courtier list enormously long.
Yeah, I admit to doing the same thing. Though in my latest game I fear I've gotten too carried away with the eugenics program. I spend way too much time hunting thru the courts of Europe to find the perfect pairing. :wacko: But I can't give up now, I'm only 19 generations away from the Kwisatz Haderach!RGB said:
A Prince of the Rus
“To Our Beloved Basilieus and Brothers in Christ Nikolaios and Demetrios, from Your Humble Friend and Ally, Dmitrii of Pronsk, Greetings,
The power and grace of your realm is a blessing to the entire world! May Our Father continue His blessings on You and yours! I humbly beseech thee to consider with all justice and speed our humble petition…”
Nikolaios folded up the parchment and tossed it into the fire with a hiss of contempt. It was the fourth letter of this kind from Dmitrii of Pronsk this month, and the Emperor had not bothered to count how many of these letters had arrived from various Rus princes in the past year.
“Damn Rurikids,” Nikolaios muttered.
The Rurikids were a collection of princes who trace their descent back to Rurik, a legendary Varangian who moved to the Russian rivers from the lands of the Norse and came to rule over the local Slavic peoples. While their descent from this mythical figure in the eyes of the Romanoi was dubious at best, what was known was that all of the Rurikids, from the so-called Velikiy Kniaz (Grand Prince) down to the lowliest lord were descendants of the infamous Sviatapolk, the Rus leader who lead a horde of barbarians as far as Thrace. Sviatapolk’s son Vladimir accepted the Christian faith.
Vladimir, like most barbarian princes, subscribed to the ruinous practice of splitting his assets and lands among his sons evenly, a practice continued by their sons, and their sons – resulting in the lands of the Rus today, with hundreds of Princes, all with legitimate claims, all their interfamily intrigue and all their vicious internecine wars.
And their incessant requests for Konstantinopolis to solve their problems for them. All of them wanted an additional leg up on their neighbors, and all of the Rus inherently turned to Romanion, the largest, most powerful Orthodox realm in the world, for alliance and guidance. And lately, for requests for fealty.
For the Rurikids knew that the sheer distance between Konstantinpolis and their lands would prevent the Empire from becoming too intrusive into their affairs, but by treaty, if they formally submitted themselves to the Emperor, the full might of Romanion would suddenly be on their side in any dispute.
And so the requests poured in. Incessant requests that annoyed both Emperors, not to mention all the various apparatus of the Imperial bureaucracy that dealt with the letters and complaints.
Requests that Nikolaios was now determined to end.
“What is all this business?” Nikolaios heard a familiar rumbling voice, and he turned to the doorway to his chambers and saw the other Emperor of Romanion, clad in military garb. The only part of Demetrios’ outfit that showed his rank were his tyrian purple boots. The aged Basilieus was stooped, and deep wrinkles covered his face and ran under his gray beard, and even now he walked stiffly into the room.
“Hello father,” Nikolaios turned and smiled. Two decades of sharing power had created a level of respect between the two. There would never be any love between the two, but there was a level of deep, mutual respect for the strengths the other had. “More letters from the Rus.”
“If it was feasible I would say burn down their villages to get them to stop,” Demetrios grumbled, before lurching towards a chair. It went unspoken, but the elder Emperor now spent a lot of his time in chairs – far more than before.
“The logistics for that would be ridiculous,” Nikolaios said, and Demetrios nodded. “However,” the younger Emperor said, “I think I can stop this stream of letters, and build up your legacy,” Nikolaios said.
“What?”
“I want to build your legacy,” Nikolaios repeated himself. “Look, father, I cannot build a legacy.” Nikolaios looked down. “I’m known as a brilliant, devious man, but that is not a legacy that a dynasty should be built on.” It had been one of the hardest, most difficult realizations of his life, but Nikolaios knew it was the right one. Future Komnenid Emperors would need to claim descent from a hero, a legend, much as the Rurikids heralded back to Rurik. Claiming descent from a man made one vulnerable. Claiming descent from a legend…
“You’re well known in war, father,” Nikolaios continued, “and we need to establish a legacy for you in peace. This would be the perfect way.”
“What would be the perfect way?” Demetrios asked, his brow wrinkled. “What do these turbulent Rus have to do with that plan?”
Nikolaios poured another goblet of wine, and handed it to his father. “You will be the Peacemaker of the Rus.”
Demetrios let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Nikolaios, I’ve seen 61 winters, I know the impossible when I see it!” The aged Basilieus took the goblet and downed the wine as quickly as he might have forty years before. “The Rus have always squabbled, and will always squabble. Conflict is imbedded in their blood – hence the new Rus spear regiments!”
Nikolaios smiled thinly at his father’s humor. “That is all true,” he acknowledged, “but one thing you are forgetting, father, is their unending respect for you, and the office of Basilieus. They call Konstantinopolis Tsargrad, “City of the Emperor” in their tongue. And I want you to use that authority to end these letters and bring peace to the Rus.”
Demetrios crossed his arms. “Tell me how.”
“We give in their demands,” Nikolaios started to say, before Demetrios’ howl of protest interrupted him.
“What?! Add one hundred more princes to the irascible dynatoi! Rus princes at that?! What are…”
Nikolaios held up his hands and laughed. “No! Of course not! Listen, father, you’ll only do this as a formality, before we create a Rus kingdom and release it to do as it pleases, ending the incessant letters!”
“You hope,” Demetrios grumbled, “you’re underestimating the stubbornness of a Rus prince.”
“I hope not,” Nikolaios murmured. “We need a title,” Nikolaios thought aloud, “the Rus title of Velikiy Kniaz needs to be replaced. At the blank look of his father, Nikolaios rolled his eyes, “Grand Prince.”
“Hmm…” Demetrios wondered aloud. “What if I make them Kaisar?”
“No!” Nikolaios vigorously shook his head. “Some will take that to mean they have a place in the Imperial bureaucracy, or God forbid, a claim on the Imperial throne!” Nikolaios continued to pace. “No, we need another title…”
“What title do they use for the Latin term rex?” Demetrios asked. “That’s a middle rank – superior to their princely titles and still beneath basilieus…”
“They use Tsar, which is the same as Kaisar, or the Cuman Khagan,” Nikolaios shook his head.
“What If I just use the Latin term?” Demetrios kept talking. “Rex Russ…Russ… What is the land of the Rus in Latin?”
“What about korol?” Nikolaios said aloud. Demetrios stopped his rambling.
“What is that?”
“It’s close to what you’re asking about – it’s a term derived from the Charlemagne in the tongue of the Rus. As he is obviously a lesser monarch than the Roman Emperor, yet superior to all the various sons of Rurik that claim the title of Prince.”
Demetrios smiled. “You truly are a dangerous man, Nikolaios.”
Nikolaios smiled tensely, and took a sip from his own goblet. “From you father, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
================================ ===============================
Letters went out from Konstantinopolis to all the princes of the Rus, from the great Prince Yaropolk of Kiev to the tiny Prince of the tiny settlement of Moskva. All the letters bore the personal seal of both of the Emperors of Romanion, as well as the Patriarch of Konstantinopolis, and all called for the princes, great and small, to come to the Imperial City in July of 1129 for the greatest conclave of the reign of Demetrios Komnenos.
All through the months of April, May and June the princes trickled into the city. The Prince of Kiev came with an immense retinue of fine men, horses and gifts. The Prince of Belozero came by himself, with some ragged furs and a torn cloak.
On July 1st, 1129, the Patriarch consecrated an enormous mass service for the Rus princes, along with appropriate representatives of the Imperial nobility – Christophoros Komnenos, Megos Domestikos, as well as the new Megas Doux, Demetrios’ nephew Georgios Komnenos. After the service, the Princes retired to the Great Palace, where all 109 of them, to be exact, waited with baited breath, tended to by servants that waited on their every need.
As the shadows drew long, finally the two Emperors emerged, both clad in the finest raiments available – gold embroidered robes made of tyrian purple, both wearing the enormous, heavily bejeweled crowns of state. Demetrios climbed up the dais and took to the throe of state, while Nikolaios stood to the right of his father.
As one, all the Rus princes knelt and offered their fealty to the Roman Emperor, their representative, Prince Dmitrii of Pronsk, referring to Demetrios in broken Greek as the “Ruler of Time, Lord of the Earth, Emperor of the Imperial City and All He Surveys.” Demetrios accepted their plaudits and their offers of servitude, and as the red rays of the sunset came through the windows of the Octagon, the elder Basilieus stood.
He thanked all the Princes of the Rus for their service to the True Church, as well as their fidelity to Konstantinopolis. He then announced he was creating the title of Korol’ of the Rus, to supervise those vast lands on his behalf – in effect, someone who would officially be a viceroy, yet having practical, full independence. Demetrios then called forward Aleksandr, Prince of Novgorod, and announced he was named the new Korol’ of the Rus. The stunned and bewildered Rus princes were then dismissed, save for the equally stunned and confused Prince of Novgorod.
The new Kingdom of the Rus
The Basilieus congratulated the stunned Prince, and promptly offered him, free, the service of the Rus spearmen and cavalry that were part of the Imperial Guard for a period of five years, to keep the other Princesin line.
The final bit was added at Nikolaios’ insistence - he argued the new ruler of the Rus would need some practical power to back his claim. Demetrios was loath to give up the reliable service of 5,000 Rus guardsman, what with what he was planning as his next act as an Emperor.
At the start of his reign, Demetrios had made a promise to the Prince of Lesser Armenia, that he would not rest until Georgia and Armenia were free. The Seljuk Civil War had dragged on for over 20 years now. For all the things one could say about Emperor Demetrios, he was a man of his word...
========================== ==============================
Seljuk Warriors
So yes, Romanion turns her attention to the East, now that the West and the North have been pacified. To answer a few questions - I got really tired of getting vassilization spams from the Russian princes (six different princes spamming once a month), so I accepted them, f12 byzatined to get just enough of the remaining princes and counts to form a Kingdom of the Rus,and formed the Kingdom naming the Prince of Novgorod the new king. Problem solved.
Last edited:
- 1
1. Nice to see a bit of gameplay in your storytelling, and ultimately a very sensible thing with the Kingdom of the Rus. My ears very much disapprove of Korol' , that's such a cacophonous Western term...but still an eminently sensible title from Nik's point of view, all else considered.
2. Sviatoslav Igorevich was the one who fought the Greeks in Bulgaria, here you have him as Sviatopolk; faulty Byzantine chronicling?
3. Rex Russiae/Rex Ruthenorum, but a Greek term would be more in-period.
4. Beloozero was a lot wealther than Pronsk, I have no idea why Pronsk is prominent in-game. It's one of the smaller Severian towns, and Sviatoslav Yaroslavich and his children should be princes of Chernigov - a fairly large city of 25,000 or so.
5. Excellent choice in the Bilibin picture, really captures the aesthetic.
------
Cool update. Totally a flipside of what happened to me I guess.
I find that the Rus tend to offer up allegiance to Constantinople a lot in-game, whereas in real-life they fought several wars, some of them successful, against the Greeks, for all the shared Orthodoxy, and maintained their church under their own control as much as they could to minimise meddling from the south. All the better for a Byz player though, I mean, Valentine got them to join up in less than 30 years....
2. Sviatoslav Igorevich was the one who fought the Greeks in Bulgaria, here you have him as Sviatopolk; faulty Byzantine chronicling?
3. Rex Russiae/Rex Ruthenorum, but a Greek term would be more in-period.
4. Beloozero was a lot wealther than Pronsk, I have no idea why Pronsk is prominent in-game. It's one of the smaller Severian towns, and Sviatoslav Yaroslavich and his children should be princes of Chernigov - a fairly large city of 25,000 or so.
5. Excellent choice in the Bilibin picture, really captures the aesthetic.
------
Cool update. Totally a flipside of what happened to me I guess.
I find that the Rus tend to offer up allegiance to Constantinople a lot in-game, whereas in real-life they fought several wars, some of them successful, against the Greeks, for all the shared Orthodoxy, and maintained their church under their own control as much as they could to minimise meddling from the south. All the better for a Byz player though, I mean, Valentine got them to join up in less than 30 years....
Nice to see that was a game move...I like the development in the Rus, creating the Korol' title. Very shrewd. Hopefully the Prince will remain loyal to the Empire in the future and won't get ideas.
RGB - 1) Korol' was the closest title I could come up with (I learned it when I was in Russia, from trying to teach people poker - its the closest word they have for king), and it made sense for what Nikolaios and Demetrios were trying to do - make someone higher than a prince but lesser than themselves.
2) Sviatopolk was a mistake on my end... oops.
3) The Greek would indeed be more in period, but I could not find a Greek translator that would've had the Greek term, so I fell back and attempted Latin - same problem.
4) I picked Belozero at random when I was writing the update up - they start off as a comparatively out of the way county, so in game it would've made sense for them to be poorer than Polotsk (which I agree, the game builds up for no real reason)
5) Thank you
Mettermrck - In the end it was a shrewd move. At the time, it was done purely for convenience. I got tired of the vassalage spam! As for the Prince being loyal to the Empire - that wasn't the real point. Basically Romanion made up a title, handed it to the strongest of the Rus princes, loaned them a few thousand troops to enforce it, and told them to go away and have fun. The Byzantines do not expect any loyalty or fealty from the new King of the Rus, they just hope the Rus can now get their act together and maintain themselves, so to speak.
Only two replies? Hmm... bet everyone's home for Christmas. Well, if I don't update before I leave for home myself this weekend, have a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Hannukah, Kwanzaa, and a fun and safe time!
2) Sviatopolk was a mistake on my end... oops.
3) The Greek would indeed be more in period, but I could not find a Greek translator that would've had the Greek term, so I fell back and attempted Latin - same problem.
4) I picked Belozero at random when I was writing the update up - they start off as a comparatively out of the way county, so in game it would've made sense for them to be poorer than Polotsk (which I agree, the game builds up for no real reason)
5) Thank you
Mettermrck - In the end it was a shrewd move. At the time, it was done purely for convenience. I got tired of the vassalage spam!
As for the Prince being loyal to the Empire - that wasn't the real point. Basically Romanion made up a title, handed it to the strongest of the Rus princes, loaned them a few thousand troops to enforce it, and told them to go away and have fun. The Byzantines do not expect any loyalty or fealty from the new King of the Rus, they just hope the Rus can now get their act together and maintain themselves, so to speak.Only two replies? Hmm... bet everyone's home for Christmas. Well, if I don't update before I leave for home myself this weekend, have a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Hannukah, Kwanzaa, and a fun and safe time!
No, they haven't - and in this update (a long one and of slightly less quality, I'm afraid - I wanted to get it done before I left for the holidays!), it is explained... as well as the results and the final parts of Demetrios' reign.
=========================================================
For almost two decades the Seljuk Turks had been riven by civil war. Malik Shah died after all five of his sons, and entrusted the Seljuk throne to his Grand Vizier, who took the name Sulieman I. However capable the Vizier might have been at running Malik's diplomacy, Sulieman proved a leader incapable of dealing with the crisis the succession imposed on the Seljuk Empire. Immediately Emirates from Hormuz to Derbent declared their independence.
Sulieman himself was killed in a battle against the Emir of Luristan in 1113, and briefly the throne passed to his young son Yavuz. Yavuz was then overthrown by an ambitious court official named Tariq Ali, who was then executed by his own ghulam guards, who declared that their own commander, Abdel Massoud, was the new Sultan. Chaos reigned, until by 1128, a young and ambitious man named Akin Ali rose to prominence.
The Seljuk Empire as Akin Ali, a non-Turk, rose to the throne of the Great Seljuk in 1126. There was a very real threat that he could reunify the Seljuk Empire for the first time since 1105
Akin Ali was the scion of the Abbasid Caliphs, he ascended to the Caliphate at age 15 in 1120 when the previous Caliph, Moqtada al-Busari, was assassinated by one of the many factions in the Seljuk civil war. Through diplomacy, guile, and outright abuse of his religious position, Akin Ali managed to place himself on the Seljuk throne by 1126 - though many throughout the Empire still refused to recognize his position.
Naturally in Romanion this turn of events was considered threatening, and as early as 1128 Nikolaios and Demetrios had begun plans for a war. Forward supply centers were refurbished, border forts were rebuilt, and the garrisons on the border were increased. After the diplomatic triumph of the new Rus Kingdom, Demetrios and Nikolaios both felt the time was right for Romanion to intervene in the conflict to her East - if only to keep the Seljuks destabilized.
For once Nikolaios and Demetrios were in agreement on war with the Seljuks - but for different reasons. Nikolaios wanted to see the Seljuks remain disunited, and a quick and sharp war that defeated Akin Ali could ruin his power base and do just that. Demetrios, even thirty years on, still felt the sting of Arbela, and wanted vengeance. Demetrios delved into the planning aspect gleefully, despite his age, and by the summer of 1130, the initial plans were complete.
Nikolaios made clear his major objection to the campaign - that according to his father's plans, it would be led by Demetrios in person. The younger co-Basilieus stated that he felt that at his father's age, actively campaigning should be the last thing the elder Komnenos should be doing. Demetrios was still spry for someone that was in their 62nd year, but there was no telling when Father Time would begin collecting his due, something that could prove disastrous in the middle of a field campaign.
Yet Demetrios, and the army, insisted. The warrior Emperor needed to be at the front - the army wanted him for morale reasons, Demetrios wanted one last chance to lead a great army in the field. Even though the Emperor repeatedly caught cold during a trip to inspect the frontier forts during the summer of 1132, the great planned invasion crossed the border in September of that year, with Demetrios at the head of the Byzantion tagmata, 15,000 strong, as they marched into Al Jazira.
A new generation, a new war...
Yet they encountered little resistance. In the north, local emirs and sheikhs attempted to stop the invasions led by Ignatios Komnenos and the Megos Domestikos, to no avail. Riders dashed out, crying for help from the Caliph - yet there was no response. For to the south, Ali had backpedaled all his forces as quickly as he could, trying to keep them from being crushed by locally superior Roman forces. The Caliph wanted to unite all the forces he had into one enormous push. From the Euphrates to the Black Sea, the Turks gave ground, hoping the Roman offensive would peter out on its own, whereupon they could launch their own immense counterattack.
In the north, Romanoi columns faced little organized resistance other than individual sheikhs attempting to stop their advance...
In the south things were much the same. Akin Ali was attempting to bring all his forces to bear at one point, a strategy that meant he had to sacrifice outlying areas.
However, Demetrios had seen this plan before - it was reminiscent of how a markedly inferior force led by Malik Shah had managed to bring Demetrios to the negotiating table almost thirty years before. Demetrios had 30 years to stew over the loss at Arbela and the disappointing results of the campaign, and his mind had come up with a myriad of possible counters. He fell back on his favorite one now.
If his enemy refused to fight, Demetrios planned to attack something the Caliph had to defend.
Baghdad.
The move would place a large Roman army in the fertile plains of Mesopotamia, into a place where they could be easily supplied, and would force the Caliph to come fight Demetrios on ground of his own choosing. Demetrios even had the ground picked out - the terrain outside the city of Nineveh, which the Romans had burned in 1103, all those years before. He made plans to gather an army of over 60,000, the largest force the Romanoi had fielded in one place since the reign of Heraklios some five hundred years before.
And as the Emperor predicted, Ali rose to the bait.
For all through the winter of 1132, Ali had been gathering his forces from all the loyal parts of Persia. Even the enemies of the Caliph seemed to recognize what a foe the Romanoi were - the Khwarzimanians, only a few months before crying for independence from Baghdad, sent a large contingent of their formidable cavalry, Luristan sent infantry, and all the forces of Islam seemed to be gathering into one great host.
The spring campaign began with several skirmishes as Demetrios' army lunged southwards, and for several months, the Romanoi sieged cities in northern Mesopotamia as Ali slowly approached with his vast host.
The Romanoi plan for concentrating their armies
The two armies finally met in the foothills of the Zagros Mountains, north of Nineveh, on July 2nd, 1133. Demetrios Komnenos would have his wish - the entire affair would be decided in one afternoon, by the sword, not a series of sieges.
The army of the Romanoi by far was the smaller of the two. Garrison needs and simple attrition had reduced Demetrios' force down to 35,000 infantry and 20,000 cavalry of various types. Obviously outnumbered, the Emperor chose a position on a gentle rise, surrounded by the dusty plains of Mesopotamia. He stationed his infantry in the center, skoutatoi intermixed with menalavoi - the professional, personal troops of the Emperor as his army's core. These he entrusted to the Megos Domestikos, his son Christophoros. On the far right, he stationed a force of 7,500 mixed cavalry, some light horse, some heavy kataphraktoi under the command of his old war horse, Isaakios Thrakesios. Demetrios himself took position with the 7,500 strong mounted contingent of the Imperial Guard on the Imperial left.
Opposing the Romanoi was the largest army arguably ever marshalled by Islam. Caliph Akin Ali had pulled the entirety of his Empire's forces into this one clash, to the point that Armenia and Georgia were left largely undefended. He fielded some 70,000 infantry and almost 40,000 cavalry - a frightening number, until one considered the equipment of these forces.
The vast majority of the Turkish foot soldiers were ill-equipped compared to their skoutatoi opponents - they had light wicker shields, short spears, and perhaps a sword, mace, or axe as a secondary weapon. In the deserts of Arabia and the mountains of Persia these were formidable light troops - here on the plains of Mesopotamia they were suited for skirmishing and little else. With the exception of the ghulams and 7500 horsemen from Khwarazim, most of the Seljuk cavalry were either light horse archers or light lancers, unsuited for a prolonged fight against heavy Roman cavalry.
Ali knew these deficiencies, and created his battleplan around them. The Caliph, along with his Vizier, Tariq al-Roustami, agreed that the only way the Romans could be defeated is if they were bludgeoned to death - yet even a bludgeoning can be managed with finesse. Ali's plan called for the feared Seljuk horse archers to harass the Roman lines, keeping the Roman left in place while softening the Roman right, while all of his infantry and 7500 of the lighter cavalry assaulted the Roman right in waves. The Caliph's own ghulams, as well as the Khwarzimanians, would be held in reserve to counter any Roman threat.
To the Caliph, it seemed as if God was delivering the Romans into his hands when they arrayed themselves for battle. Little did he know his opponent was thinking the same thing...
==============================================================================================================
July 2nd, 1133
Demetrios hacked and coughed harshly. The dust was getting to him - something that had never happened in his younger days.
Ever since he'd visited the fortresses in and around Sinope the previous summer, the Emperor had felt ill. He tired more easily, he was thinner, and he felt every ache and pain in his body. Yet Demetrios had not allowed that to stop him - he'd ridden hard in the saddle for over a year, and the deep wrinkles of his face now had the leathery look of a man who had spent far too much time in the sun. The dark, tanned skin of his face contrasted greatly with the gray, even white, of his beard.
To the soldiers of the Romanoi, Demetrios was a legend. Few of the soldiers in the ranks had actually seen combat during the First Seljuk War. Many had only heard stories of the Emperor's exploits on the battlefield, and now they stood in awe, serving under someone they regarded as a living legend. Demetrios reveled in it - in Konstantinopolis Nikolaios might run affairs, but here, on the battlefield, he was and would always be Demetrios Megos.
"Father, do you need some water, or wine?" Demetrios heard his son and Megos Domestikos ask. Of all his children, Demetrios had decided Christophoros was the most like him. Georgios was a do-nothing and a lout, rotting away in Cyrenaica. Nikolaios, as much as Demetrios respected him, still reminded him too much of Hajnal. Ignatios, after the harrowing incidents of his childhood, had abandoned the political realm for the heavenly, and taken to the priesthood. Manuel was showing signs of becoming a hybrid of Demetrios and Nikolaios, but he was only 11. Little Demetrios was only 9, and showed by all indications he would be a mischevious runt.
Christophoros looked like Demetrios - save his fair hair. He acted like Demetrios, he had the same tone, same bearing, same command of men on the battlefield. He had a large family, an appetite for women, and skill with a blade. In another world, Demetrios would have named Christophoros his successor - but not this one. That would undoubtedly start a civil war - something Demetrios could not have on his conscience.
"No," the Emperor said after a moment, clearing his throat. "Christophoros, you will take the infantry in the center, and five tagma of cavalry," the Emperor continued after the spate of coughing had subsided. Demetrios draw a line in the sand with his boot. "You will hold, and hold at all costs. They're going to come directly at you it seems," Demetrios said, without even glancing out at the deploying Turkish army.
"I'll say," the Megos Domestikos agreed. "The hill slopes the least on the right, between the fifth skoutatoi tagma and the ravine. They'll come strongest there."
"Then post your cavalry there to reinforce the line," Demetrios coughed again. "Isaakios," the Emperor nodded to his aged warhorse, "you'll take 7500 cavalry and ride down into that ravine. Use it as cover to move your horsemen off and behind the Turks on our right."
"All 7500?" Thrakesios asked, and the Emperor nodded. Isaakios too had aged immensely - the death of his eldest son in Aswan, in addition to all the rumors swirling around Ioannis, had hurt him deeply. Age spots covered his face and hands, and the formerly glorious crown of blonde hair was rapidly going gray and falling out.
"I'll hold the eight tagma of the Imperial Guard on our left," Demetrios continued. "If I see a gap, I'm going to charge..."
"You really shouldn't do that father," Christophoros started to say, but the old Emperor cut his son off.
"...the Caliph. Otherwise I'll hold and protect the flank, harass the Turks on that side as needed." Demetrios grinned, showing teeth blackened with age. "If there are no questions, to your posts, and may God grant us victory this day."
===================================================================================================================
Around 10 AM, Thrakesios and his cavalry contingent slipped from the Roman right and disappeared into the ravine, as the Seljuks in the valley below marshalled their forces. At 11, the plains of Mesopotamia became clouded with dust as the Turkish horde began its assaults on the Romanoi positions.
The Turks advance...
It began with a barrage of arrows from horse archers. On the Romanoi right, this was followed by a charge from the lighter Turkish cavalry, which was easily shrugged off by the heavily armored skoutatoi of the Imperial line. The cavalry then broke off, and immediately after came rows upon rows of Turkish and Saracen infantry, which crashed into the Romanoi like a wave slams into a beach. The skoutatoi and menalavoi bent, but didn't break, driving the Turks back with heavy losses.
Yet even as the first wave retreated back down the hill, horse archers galloped up and filled the sky with arrows once more. The Turkish cavalry repeated its charge, then the infantry, then horse archers - it was an endless wave of attack after attack, assault after assault. All through the barrage on his men, the Emperor stood on the left, waiting, watching, hoping the Turks would give him the gap he wanted.
Yet even as Demetrios bided his time, the right began to waver...
===================================================================================================================
Christophoros Komnenos swore sharply as the next wave of Turkish infantry crashed into the dense ranks of the Romanoi. For three entire hours the Turks had hurled themselves in an unending rash of attacks, and Christophoros knew his men were beginning to tire. One could only thrust a spear or swing a sword so many times in a day before the act wore down the muscles. By the tired, terrorized eyes of the infantry, the Megos Domestikos could tell that time was fast approaching.
"Hold your ground!" Christophoros shouted, adding a series of curses for effect. The Megos Domestikos thundered up behind the skoutatoi, waving his sword and whacking the few cowards that tried to run with the flat of his blade. Yet again, the Seljuk wave crested, then subsided, as the waves of infantry pulled back down the hill.
"Christ's toes, there's alot of them!" one of the kentarchos of the skoutatoi shouted. It was not even two in the afternoon, and Christophoros could see some of the spear regiments were making rampants to their front from the Saracen bodies. The infantry didn't worry Christophoros at all - the Saracens were sending waves upon waves of unarmored spearmen, who had only their small wooden shields, a little cloth, and their bravery to stand against the heavily armored Roman lines.
But each wave of Saracen infantry had waves of cavalry with it - men on heavy horses that, if he wasn't careful could punch through the Roman lines. To make matters worse, every assault was preceded and succeeded by a storm of arrows from Saracen horse and foot archers.
"Hurry up old man," Christophoros muttered to himself as he rode back to the two ranks of klibanophroi on the very edges of the Roman flank. "Papagos!" Christophoros shouted to the commander of the nearest of the two tagma. "Get ready to charge! Next time they come up the hill, slam into their flanks, but don't pursue!"
His father had instructed him to stand put, but he hadn't said anything about the cavalry doing so. And if the Roman lines were to stand for another hour, the Megos Domestikos knew he needed to relieve pressure on his men somehow.
========================================================================================================================
The Turks launched three more charges on the Roman right in the two hours after noon that day, throwing massive numbers of infantry and light cavalry on the Roman positions, intent on grinding down the better armed and armored Roman soldiers. Each time they came up the hill Roman archers cracked the Turkish formations, and after the moment of impact, Christophoros' klibanophroi charged headlong into the Turkish ranks.
The results were a bloodbath, with thousands of Turks dying underneath Roman spears and the hooves of Roman horses, yet the Caliph's great plan was working. Through sheer butchery, the Turks were grinding the Roman right to pieces, while the threat of a charge by the Caliph's Ghulams and the constant harassment of horse archers kept the Roman left impotent and out of the battle. Thrakesios' 7,500 horsemen had seemingly disappeared down the ravine, and there was no telling when they would emerge on the Turkish flank.
Things were coming to a head when, at 2 PM, the Caliph finally decided the time had come to administer the coup de grace. The 7,500 Khwarzimanian horsemen, as heavily armored as a klibanophroi and as well led, thundered off to the north. Akin Ali's intentions were clear - the Romans could either commit their Imperial Guard to blocking this flanking manuever, but lengthen their lines and lose any chance of reinforcing their cracking left, or they could stay in place and let themselves be outflanked. Either way, Akin Ali reasoned, the armies of Islam would emerge victorious this day.
Little did they count on the determination of an old man...
====================================================================================================================
Demetrios felt alive.
Down below, he could see through peeks in the clouds of dust the Saracen army preparing to march up the hill again, undoubtedly against the battered Roman right. He could see the Khwarzimanian cavalry moving out to their right, Rome's left, a move Demetrios knew was intended to force him to extend his forces. But then something else caught his eye.
As the Khwarzimanians moved out, he spotted the glint of gilded helms, and the sheen of enormous silk banners, Arabic script cascading down their shimmering forms. Instantly his blood began to pump.
"The gap!" he called to the commander of the Hetaratoi, now a Georgian named Mziatapoulous. "Hetaratoi will prepare to charge!" the Emperor barked, setting his war helm in place. Its bright steel and gold trims shone brightly in the sun as Demetrios' aged hands gripped his kontos. He felt at home once more, in the torrent of noise, of sweat, of battle, with a weapon firmly in his hand.
"Sire!" Kourtzis gestured wildly towards the racing Khwarzimanian cavalry, "We need to stop them, or they'll take the whole army by the rear!"
Demetrios looked up, and grimaced. His golden opportunity had come - he could clearly see the young Great Seljuk surrounded by his bodyguards. The window would not last - the next time the harassing Seljuk horse archers came back down the hill, they'd block his path. The left was crumbling. The right was impotent, and he had no idea how long it would take Thrakesios to appear on the Turkish left. He had to go now, or the entire battle might be lost.
"Kourtzis, take the other two tagma and hold off the Khwarzim cavalry!" the Emperor said after a second. Kourtzis had a point - unless the Khwarzim horse was held, they would attack the Imperial Guard from the rear while it dealt with the Seljuk Sultan. That'd leave Demetrios with the one thosuand Hetaratoi themselves, along with the 1,500 troops of the Athanatakoi ("Immortal") tagma.
They would be charging at least 7,500 heavily armored ghulams of the Caliph's personal guard.
Demetrios reasoned his men would have surprise - the parched plain below was already disappearing into a sea of dust raised by the Turkish horse archers and the Khwarzimanians. And the Hetaratoi were the finest cavalry in all of Christendom, and Demetrios hoped they would prove it this day. If they didn't, Rome would lose the battle, and an Emperor...
=============================================================================================
Akin Ali looked directly up the heights towards the battered Roman infantry, and smiled. Tariq had been right - they could indeed pummel the Roman line until it broke. The casualties to the Saracen infantry had been horrendous, but those were the peasants and proles of Mesopotamia - easily replaced, in Akin Ali's eyes. They were all giving their lives to drive the enemies of the Caliph out, a death that would surely land them in a paradise far better than the wretched world they lived in.
To the right, the Khwarzimanian cavalry had stirred up an immense cloud of dust, one the horse archers, pinning the Roman left with their hails of arrows, only added to. Akin Ali waved a hand, and soon several battalions of his own Ghulams went up the hill to support the horse archers. The Roman left had to be held in place until the Roman right broke, and the sea of Turkish horsemen could spill into the Roman rear.
"Holiness!" It was Tariq. Akin Ali grimaced - the old man was bothering him again. The Caliph trotted over.
"What?" Akin Ali growled. The next charge on the Roman right was forming up, and he wanted to watch personally - he expected this one to finally break through. Tariq's eyes were wide however, and that alone made Akin Ali change his tone. The old man seemed unable to speak, a muttered gurgle coming from his lips.
"What is it? Speak man!" Akin Ali shouted. A distant rumbling came to Akin Ali's ears, and he looked up towards the sea of dust that obscured the hill. The Caliph realized what Tariq was worried about - it sounded as if the Ghulams had charged the Roman lines here on the right. They would be repulsed, with needless casualties - and Akin Ali growled to himself that he'd add the Ghulam commander to that list.
But then the Caliph felt something different - bone chilling even. The rumbling was growing louder - maybe Tariq meant that the horse archers had pulled back prematurely.
"Romans!" The Grand Vizier finally shouted, pointing into the dust.
"Where?" Akin Ali looked hard with his own eyes as the rumble rose to a thunder. Tariq had to be hallucinating - there was no way the Romans could have gotten behind his lines...
Suddenly, as if God himself decided to open the curtain of dust, the cloud of dirt split, revealing over a thousand horsemen, clad in the bright tunics and armor of the Hetaratoi. At their front was a man dressed in Imperial purple, spear in hand, battlecry on his lips.
Akin Ali had only a moment to scream before the storm crashed over him.
The battle of Nineveh, July 2nd , 1133
====================================================================================================
Unlike Arbela, the Hetaratoi crashed headlong into the Seljuk Sultan's positions.
Unlike Arbela, the ghulams did not hold.
Unlike Arbela, the Seljuk Sultan was quickly cut off.
Demetrios and the Hetaratoi slammed headlong into the Turkish ghulams, who were caught so by surprise that many of them were sitting at a standstill even when the Hetaratoi crashed into them at a full charge. The ghulams ceased to exist - surprised and crushed, they broke and fled en masse, the Emperor of Romanion in the lead of the pursuit.
Akin Ali tried his best to fight, alongside the 20 or so ghulams surrounding him, but there were simply too many Hetaratoi. The young Caliph, who would have reunited state and religion in a way that had not been seen since Harun al-Rashid, was pierced in the side by the kontos of one Anathasios Thrakesios, grandson of the strategos. Wounded and weakened, the Young Lion was corralled with hundreds of other prisoners as the Ghulam Guards broke ranks and fled under the sudden onslaught.
Like a gigantic ripple, the same began to happen across the battlefield. The Khwarzimanians, just before they made contact with Kourtzis' guardsmen, watched in horror as their Caliph's banners suddenly disappeared in a storm of steel and dust. They alone had the privilege of seeing the disaster. For the rest of the battlefield, the catastrophe revealed itself through fleeing men appearing in the dust, screaming of armageddon. The Romans had charged out of the dust with the Devil on their wings, and blood on their lips!
On the Turkish left, reforming for yet another assault, the news was especially disturbing. Through the dust, none could see the Caliph's position, adding an extra level of ominous to the reports. The Turkish lines wavered, as worried commanders gathered in the deepening pall to argue what to do next. Some advocated one last assault - if the Caliph was in trouble, the Turkish left could relieve him by pressing hard. Others advocated withdrawl.
All initially dismissed new rumors that were arising - that horsemen were seen to the left of the Turks, that they bore the banners of Romanion. With all the fearful talk about, the Turkish leaders thought their men were telling extravagant tales of whatever had happened to the Turkish right. As a consequence, the charge of 7,500 Romanoi from the left caught them completely by surprise.
The entire Turkish army came unhinged.
Christophoros, the last of the three major commanders on the hill, finally unleashed the Pechenegs and Vardaratoi through the Roman ranks and into the wavering Turks. The Turkish retreat descended into a full scale rout, then to a panic, as Akin Ali's carefully created legions ceased to exist. The Khwarzimanian cavalry fled north, away from the battle. Many of the ghulams "liberated themselves" by fleeing east, casting aside their arms and armor. The hapless Turkish infantry, having borne the brunt of the day's casualties, were cut down by the merciless Vardaratoi and Pechenegs, who freely looted and beheaded their victims before mounting to catch more. The grandly titled "Army of Islam" scattered to the four winds.
On July 18th, 1133, the lead elements of the Vardaratoi camped beneath the walls of Baghdad, even as Mosul and other great cities of northern Mesopotamia opened their gates to the Romans. It wasn't until July 20th that Akin Ali, weakened and depressed, signed an instrument of surrender.
Demetrios, in the end, showed a degree of diplomatic astuteness that would have made Nikolaios proud. The Emperor realized that there was no organized Muslim force between him and Persia... perhaps even India. Yet he also realized that Romanion did not have the troops nor the resources to put down the inevitable rebellions from such an enormous conquest. Therefore, considering the completeness of his victory, the terms of Demetrios Megos were comparatively light.
Romanion would regain ancient border fortresses such as Nineveh and Mosul in northern Mesopotamia. Romanion would regain Trebizond, and would annex all of Georgia, Armenia and Azeribijian. The Turks, in perpetuity, would recognize Christian control of the Holy City. Finally, the Caliphate and the Turks would deliever 7,000 pounds of gold, per annum in symbolic tribute to Konstantinopolis for the next twenty years.
The Second Seljuk War regained much of the original territory of Romanion that had been lost under the reigns of Emperor Konstantinos and Michael, as well as Georgia and Armenia.
The peace was humiliating. Immediately more challengers arose to the harried Akin Ali, and the lands of Islam descended yet again into civil war. As for Demetrios, he returned in triumph to Konstantinopolis, but already it was apparent the campaign had taxed him heavily. He was 64, and had led a rigorous campaign for the last time. His health began to fail slowly - at first he found it hard to mount the steps to his throne, then to walk anywhere, then to even get out of bed. The heavy, crouping cough that had begun on campaign deepened, until each one made his ever-thinning form rattle and shake.
By January of 1135, it was apparent the end was nigh.
From all over Romanion, the Emperor's sons and their retinues poured into the Queen of Cities - Georgios from Cyrenaica, Christophoros from his new holdings in Chaldea, Ignatios from the newly created Metropolitanate of Trebizond. 11 year old Manuel and 9 year old Demetrios, along with their 42 year old brother Nikolaios hovered by their father's side. On February 5th, the Emperor's breathing became so troubled that Ignatios called for a prayer over the body, and all the sons and grandsons gathered around him in the Purple Room of the Great Palace. As the sun set on that troubled day, the Emperor's breathing tightened, and finally subsided into a rattle, then nothing at all.
At age 66, Demetrios, called Megos, Emperor of Romanion, had left this world.
=============================================================================================================================
And so ends the reign of arguably Byzantium's greatest Emperor since Justinian - ignoring the fact he was a boor at times, cultural impoverished, and inclined for war. Who will securely inherit Demetrios' throne? Nikolaios has the title of co-Emperor, but Christophoros is the head of the army. And what of Demetrios' four other male children? And what about that little 'beatified' bit? How did that happen to our favorite wenching Emperor? These and other questions will be answered next time on Rome AARisen!
=========================================================
For almost two decades the Seljuk Turks had been riven by civil war. Malik Shah died after all five of his sons, and entrusted the Seljuk throne to his Grand Vizier, who took the name Sulieman I. However capable the Vizier might have been at running Malik's diplomacy, Sulieman proved a leader incapable of dealing with the crisis the succession imposed on the Seljuk Empire. Immediately Emirates from Hormuz to Derbent declared their independence.
Sulieman himself was killed in a battle against the Emir of Luristan in 1113, and briefly the throne passed to his young son Yavuz. Yavuz was then overthrown by an ambitious court official named Tariq Ali, who was then executed by his own ghulam guards, who declared that their own commander, Abdel Massoud, was the new Sultan. Chaos reigned, until by 1128, a young and ambitious man named Akin Ali rose to prominence.
The Seljuk Empire as Akin Ali, a non-Turk, rose to the throne of the Great Seljuk in 1126. There was a very real threat that he could reunify the Seljuk Empire for the first time since 1105
Akin Ali was the scion of the Abbasid Caliphs, he ascended to the Caliphate at age 15 in 1120 when the previous Caliph, Moqtada al-Busari, was assassinated by one of the many factions in the Seljuk civil war. Through diplomacy, guile, and outright abuse of his religious position, Akin Ali managed to place himself on the Seljuk throne by 1126 - though many throughout the Empire still refused to recognize his position.
Naturally in Romanion this turn of events was considered threatening, and as early as 1128 Nikolaios and Demetrios had begun plans for a war. Forward supply centers were refurbished, border forts were rebuilt, and the garrisons on the border were increased. After the diplomatic triumph of the new Rus Kingdom, Demetrios and Nikolaios both felt the time was right for Romanion to intervene in the conflict to her East - if only to keep the Seljuks destabilized.
For once Nikolaios and Demetrios were in agreement on war with the Seljuks - but for different reasons. Nikolaios wanted to see the Seljuks remain disunited, and a quick and sharp war that defeated Akin Ali could ruin his power base and do just that. Demetrios, even thirty years on, still felt the sting of Arbela, and wanted vengeance. Demetrios delved into the planning aspect gleefully, despite his age, and by the summer of 1130, the initial plans were complete.
Nikolaios made clear his major objection to the campaign - that according to his father's plans, it would be led by Demetrios in person. The younger co-Basilieus stated that he felt that at his father's age, actively campaigning should be the last thing the elder Komnenos should be doing. Demetrios was still spry for someone that was in their 62nd year, but there was no telling when Father Time would begin collecting his due, something that could prove disastrous in the middle of a field campaign.
Yet Demetrios, and the army, insisted. The warrior Emperor needed to be at the front - the army wanted him for morale reasons, Demetrios wanted one last chance to lead a great army in the field. Even though the Emperor repeatedly caught cold during a trip to inspect the frontier forts during the summer of 1132, the great planned invasion crossed the border in September of that year, with Demetrios at the head of the Byzantion tagmata, 15,000 strong, as they marched into Al Jazira.
A new generation, a new war...
Yet they encountered little resistance. In the north, local emirs and sheikhs attempted to stop the invasions led by Ignatios Komnenos and the Megos Domestikos, to no avail. Riders dashed out, crying for help from the Caliph - yet there was no response. For to the south, Ali had backpedaled all his forces as quickly as he could, trying to keep them from being crushed by locally superior Roman forces. The Caliph wanted to unite all the forces he had into one enormous push. From the Euphrates to the Black Sea, the Turks gave ground, hoping the Roman offensive would peter out on its own, whereupon they could launch their own immense counterattack.
In the north, Romanoi columns faced little organized resistance other than individual sheikhs attempting to stop their advance...
In the south things were much the same. Akin Ali was attempting to bring all his forces to bear at one point, a strategy that meant he had to sacrifice outlying areas.
However, Demetrios had seen this plan before - it was reminiscent of how a markedly inferior force led by Malik Shah had managed to bring Demetrios to the negotiating table almost thirty years before. Demetrios had 30 years to stew over the loss at Arbela and the disappointing results of the campaign, and his mind had come up with a myriad of possible counters. He fell back on his favorite one now.
If his enemy refused to fight, Demetrios planned to attack something the Caliph had to defend.
Baghdad.
The move would place a large Roman army in the fertile plains of Mesopotamia, into a place where they could be easily supplied, and would force the Caliph to come fight Demetrios on ground of his own choosing. Demetrios even had the ground picked out - the terrain outside the city of Nineveh, which the Romans had burned in 1103, all those years before. He made plans to gather an army of over 60,000, the largest force the Romanoi had fielded in one place since the reign of Heraklios some five hundred years before.
And as the Emperor predicted, Ali rose to the bait.
For all through the winter of 1132, Ali had been gathering his forces from all the loyal parts of Persia. Even the enemies of the Caliph seemed to recognize what a foe the Romanoi were - the Khwarzimanians, only a few months before crying for independence from Baghdad, sent a large contingent of their formidable cavalry, Luristan sent infantry, and all the forces of Islam seemed to be gathering into one great host.
The spring campaign began with several skirmishes as Demetrios' army lunged southwards, and for several months, the Romanoi sieged cities in northern Mesopotamia as Ali slowly approached with his vast host.
The Romanoi plan for concentrating their armies
The two armies finally met in the foothills of the Zagros Mountains, north of Nineveh, on July 2nd, 1133. Demetrios Komnenos would have his wish - the entire affair would be decided in one afternoon, by the sword, not a series of sieges.
The army of the Romanoi by far was the smaller of the two. Garrison needs and simple attrition had reduced Demetrios' force down to 35,000 infantry and 20,000 cavalry of various types. Obviously outnumbered, the Emperor chose a position on a gentle rise, surrounded by the dusty plains of Mesopotamia. He stationed his infantry in the center, skoutatoi intermixed with menalavoi - the professional, personal troops of the Emperor as his army's core. These he entrusted to the Megos Domestikos, his son Christophoros. On the far right, he stationed a force of 7,500 mixed cavalry, some light horse, some heavy kataphraktoi under the command of his old war horse, Isaakios Thrakesios. Demetrios himself took position with the 7,500 strong mounted contingent of the Imperial Guard on the Imperial left.
Opposing the Romanoi was the largest army arguably ever marshalled by Islam. Caliph Akin Ali had pulled the entirety of his Empire's forces into this one clash, to the point that Armenia and Georgia were left largely undefended. He fielded some 70,000 infantry and almost 40,000 cavalry - a frightening number, until one considered the equipment of these forces.
The vast majority of the Turkish foot soldiers were ill-equipped compared to their skoutatoi opponents - they had light wicker shields, short spears, and perhaps a sword, mace, or axe as a secondary weapon. In the deserts of Arabia and the mountains of Persia these were formidable light troops - here on the plains of Mesopotamia they were suited for skirmishing and little else. With the exception of the ghulams and 7500 horsemen from Khwarazim, most of the Seljuk cavalry were either light horse archers or light lancers, unsuited for a prolonged fight against heavy Roman cavalry.
Ali knew these deficiencies, and created his battleplan around them. The Caliph, along with his Vizier, Tariq al-Roustami, agreed that the only way the Romans could be defeated is if they were bludgeoned to death - yet even a bludgeoning can be managed with finesse. Ali's plan called for the feared Seljuk horse archers to harass the Roman lines, keeping the Roman left in place while softening the Roman right, while all of his infantry and 7500 of the lighter cavalry assaulted the Roman right in waves. The Caliph's own ghulams, as well as the Khwarzimanians, would be held in reserve to counter any Roman threat.
To the Caliph, it seemed as if God was delivering the Romans into his hands when they arrayed themselves for battle. Little did he know his opponent was thinking the same thing...
==============================================================================================================
July 2nd, 1133
Demetrios hacked and coughed harshly. The dust was getting to him - something that had never happened in his younger days.
Ever since he'd visited the fortresses in and around Sinope the previous summer, the Emperor had felt ill. He tired more easily, he was thinner, and he felt every ache and pain in his body. Yet Demetrios had not allowed that to stop him - he'd ridden hard in the saddle for over a year, and the deep wrinkles of his face now had the leathery look of a man who had spent far too much time in the sun. The dark, tanned skin of his face contrasted greatly with the gray, even white, of his beard.
To the soldiers of the Romanoi, Demetrios was a legend. Few of the soldiers in the ranks had actually seen combat during the First Seljuk War. Many had only heard stories of the Emperor's exploits on the battlefield, and now they stood in awe, serving under someone they regarded as a living legend. Demetrios reveled in it - in Konstantinopolis Nikolaios might run affairs, but here, on the battlefield, he was and would always be Demetrios Megos.
"Father, do you need some water, or wine?" Demetrios heard his son and Megos Domestikos ask. Of all his children, Demetrios had decided Christophoros was the most like him. Georgios was a do-nothing and a lout, rotting away in Cyrenaica. Nikolaios, as much as Demetrios respected him, still reminded him too much of Hajnal. Ignatios, after the harrowing incidents of his childhood, had abandoned the political realm for the heavenly, and taken to the priesthood. Manuel was showing signs of becoming a hybrid of Demetrios and Nikolaios, but he was only 11. Little Demetrios was only 9, and showed by all indications he would be a mischevious runt.
Christophoros looked like Demetrios - save his fair hair. He acted like Demetrios, he had the same tone, same bearing, same command of men on the battlefield. He had a large family, an appetite for women, and skill with a blade. In another world, Demetrios would have named Christophoros his successor - but not this one. That would undoubtedly start a civil war - something Demetrios could not have on his conscience.
"No," the Emperor said after a moment, clearing his throat. "Christophoros, you will take the infantry in the center, and five tagma of cavalry," the Emperor continued after the spate of coughing had subsided. Demetrios draw a line in the sand with his boot. "You will hold, and hold at all costs. They're going to come directly at you it seems," Demetrios said, without even glancing out at the deploying Turkish army.
"I'll say," the Megos Domestikos agreed. "The hill slopes the least on the right, between the fifth skoutatoi tagma and the ravine. They'll come strongest there."
"Then post your cavalry there to reinforce the line," Demetrios coughed again. "Isaakios," the Emperor nodded to his aged warhorse, "you'll take 7500 cavalry and ride down into that ravine. Use it as cover to move your horsemen off and behind the Turks on our right."
"All 7500?" Thrakesios asked, and the Emperor nodded. Isaakios too had aged immensely - the death of his eldest son in Aswan, in addition to all the rumors swirling around Ioannis, had hurt him deeply. Age spots covered his face and hands, and the formerly glorious crown of blonde hair was rapidly going gray and falling out.
"I'll hold the eight tagma of the Imperial Guard on our left," Demetrios continued. "If I see a gap, I'm going to charge..."
"You really shouldn't do that father," Christophoros started to say, but the old Emperor cut his son off.
"...the Caliph. Otherwise I'll hold and protect the flank, harass the Turks on that side as needed." Demetrios grinned, showing teeth blackened with age. "If there are no questions, to your posts, and may God grant us victory this day."
===================================================================================================================
Around 10 AM, Thrakesios and his cavalry contingent slipped from the Roman right and disappeared into the ravine, as the Seljuks in the valley below marshalled their forces. At 11, the plains of Mesopotamia became clouded with dust as the Turkish horde began its assaults on the Romanoi positions.
The Turks advance...
It began with a barrage of arrows from horse archers. On the Romanoi right, this was followed by a charge from the lighter Turkish cavalry, which was easily shrugged off by the heavily armored skoutatoi of the Imperial line. The cavalry then broke off, and immediately after came rows upon rows of Turkish and Saracen infantry, which crashed into the Romanoi like a wave slams into a beach. The skoutatoi and menalavoi bent, but didn't break, driving the Turks back with heavy losses.
Yet even as the first wave retreated back down the hill, horse archers galloped up and filled the sky with arrows once more. The Turkish cavalry repeated its charge, then the infantry, then horse archers - it was an endless wave of attack after attack, assault after assault. All through the barrage on his men, the Emperor stood on the left, waiting, watching, hoping the Turks would give him the gap he wanted.
Yet even as Demetrios bided his time, the right began to waver...
===================================================================================================================
Christophoros Komnenos swore sharply as the next wave of Turkish infantry crashed into the dense ranks of the Romanoi. For three entire hours the Turks had hurled themselves in an unending rash of attacks, and Christophoros knew his men were beginning to tire. One could only thrust a spear or swing a sword so many times in a day before the act wore down the muscles. By the tired, terrorized eyes of the infantry, the Megos Domestikos could tell that time was fast approaching.
"Hold your ground!" Christophoros shouted, adding a series of curses for effect. The Megos Domestikos thundered up behind the skoutatoi, waving his sword and whacking the few cowards that tried to run with the flat of his blade. Yet again, the Seljuk wave crested, then subsided, as the waves of infantry pulled back down the hill.
"Christ's toes, there's alot of them!" one of the kentarchos of the skoutatoi shouted. It was not even two in the afternoon, and Christophoros could see some of the spear regiments were making rampants to their front from the Saracen bodies. The infantry didn't worry Christophoros at all - the Saracens were sending waves upon waves of unarmored spearmen, who had only their small wooden shields, a little cloth, and their bravery to stand against the heavily armored Roman lines.
But each wave of Saracen infantry had waves of cavalry with it - men on heavy horses that, if he wasn't careful could punch through the Roman lines. To make matters worse, every assault was preceded and succeeded by a storm of arrows from Saracen horse and foot archers.
"Hurry up old man," Christophoros muttered to himself as he rode back to the two ranks of klibanophroi on the very edges of the Roman flank. "Papagos!" Christophoros shouted to the commander of the nearest of the two tagma. "Get ready to charge! Next time they come up the hill, slam into their flanks, but don't pursue!"
His father had instructed him to stand put, but he hadn't said anything about the cavalry doing so. And if the Roman lines were to stand for another hour, the Megos Domestikos knew he needed to relieve pressure on his men somehow.
========================================================================================================================
The Turks launched three more charges on the Roman right in the two hours after noon that day, throwing massive numbers of infantry and light cavalry on the Roman positions, intent on grinding down the better armed and armored Roman soldiers. Each time they came up the hill Roman archers cracked the Turkish formations, and after the moment of impact, Christophoros' klibanophroi charged headlong into the Turkish ranks.
The results were a bloodbath, with thousands of Turks dying underneath Roman spears and the hooves of Roman horses, yet the Caliph's great plan was working. Through sheer butchery, the Turks were grinding the Roman right to pieces, while the threat of a charge by the Caliph's Ghulams and the constant harassment of horse archers kept the Roman left impotent and out of the battle. Thrakesios' 7,500 horsemen had seemingly disappeared down the ravine, and there was no telling when they would emerge on the Turkish flank.
Things were coming to a head when, at 2 PM, the Caliph finally decided the time had come to administer the coup de grace. The 7,500 Khwarzimanian horsemen, as heavily armored as a klibanophroi and as well led, thundered off to the north. Akin Ali's intentions were clear - the Romans could either commit their Imperial Guard to blocking this flanking manuever, but lengthen their lines and lose any chance of reinforcing their cracking left, or they could stay in place and let themselves be outflanked. Either way, Akin Ali reasoned, the armies of Islam would emerge victorious this day.
Little did they count on the determination of an old man...
====================================================================================================================
Demetrios felt alive.
Down below, he could see through peeks in the clouds of dust the Saracen army preparing to march up the hill again, undoubtedly against the battered Roman right. He could see the Khwarzimanian cavalry moving out to their right, Rome's left, a move Demetrios knew was intended to force him to extend his forces. But then something else caught his eye.
As the Khwarzimanians moved out, he spotted the glint of gilded helms, and the sheen of enormous silk banners, Arabic script cascading down their shimmering forms. Instantly his blood began to pump.
"The gap!" he called to the commander of the Hetaratoi, now a Georgian named Mziatapoulous. "Hetaratoi will prepare to charge!" the Emperor barked, setting his war helm in place. Its bright steel and gold trims shone brightly in the sun as Demetrios' aged hands gripped his kontos. He felt at home once more, in the torrent of noise, of sweat, of battle, with a weapon firmly in his hand.
"Sire!" Kourtzis gestured wildly towards the racing Khwarzimanian cavalry, "We need to stop them, or they'll take the whole army by the rear!"
Demetrios looked up, and grimaced. His golden opportunity had come - he could clearly see the young Great Seljuk surrounded by his bodyguards. The window would not last - the next time the harassing Seljuk horse archers came back down the hill, they'd block his path. The left was crumbling. The right was impotent, and he had no idea how long it would take Thrakesios to appear on the Turkish left. He had to go now, or the entire battle might be lost.
"Kourtzis, take the other two tagma and hold off the Khwarzim cavalry!" the Emperor said after a second. Kourtzis had a point - unless the Khwarzim horse was held, they would attack the Imperial Guard from the rear while it dealt with the Seljuk Sultan. That'd leave Demetrios with the one thosuand Hetaratoi themselves, along with the 1,500 troops of the Athanatakoi ("Immortal") tagma.
They would be charging at least 7,500 heavily armored ghulams of the Caliph's personal guard.
Demetrios reasoned his men would have surprise - the parched plain below was already disappearing into a sea of dust raised by the Turkish horse archers and the Khwarzimanians. And the Hetaratoi were the finest cavalry in all of Christendom, and Demetrios hoped they would prove it this day. If they didn't, Rome would lose the battle, and an Emperor...
=============================================================================================
Akin Ali looked directly up the heights towards the battered Roman infantry, and smiled. Tariq had been right - they could indeed pummel the Roman line until it broke. The casualties to the Saracen infantry had been horrendous, but those were the peasants and proles of Mesopotamia - easily replaced, in Akin Ali's eyes. They were all giving their lives to drive the enemies of the Caliph out, a death that would surely land them in a paradise far better than the wretched world they lived in.
To the right, the Khwarzimanian cavalry had stirred up an immense cloud of dust, one the horse archers, pinning the Roman left with their hails of arrows, only added to. Akin Ali waved a hand, and soon several battalions of his own Ghulams went up the hill to support the horse archers. The Roman left had to be held in place until the Roman right broke, and the sea of Turkish horsemen could spill into the Roman rear.
"Holiness!" It was Tariq. Akin Ali grimaced - the old man was bothering him again. The Caliph trotted over.
"What?" Akin Ali growled. The next charge on the Roman right was forming up, and he wanted to watch personally - he expected this one to finally break through. Tariq's eyes were wide however, and that alone made Akin Ali change his tone. The old man seemed unable to speak, a muttered gurgle coming from his lips.
"What is it? Speak man!" Akin Ali shouted. A distant rumbling came to Akin Ali's ears, and he looked up towards the sea of dust that obscured the hill. The Caliph realized what Tariq was worried about - it sounded as if the Ghulams had charged the Roman lines here on the right. They would be repulsed, with needless casualties - and Akin Ali growled to himself that he'd add the Ghulam commander to that list.
But then the Caliph felt something different - bone chilling even. The rumbling was growing louder - maybe Tariq meant that the horse archers had pulled back prematurely.
"Romans!" The Grand Vizier finally shouted, pointing into the dust.
"Where?" Akin Ali looked hard with his own eyes as the rumble rose to a thunder. Tariq had to be hallucinating - there was no way the Romans could have gotten behind his lines...
Suddenly, as if God himself decided to open the curtain of dust, the cloud of dirt split, revealing over a thousand horsemen, clad in the bright tunics and armor of the Hetaratoi. At their front was a man dressed in Imperial purple, spear in hand, battlecry on his lips.
Akin Ali had only a moment to scream before the storm crashed over him.
The battle of Nineveh, July 2nd , 1133
====================================================================================================
Unlike Arbela, the Hetaratoi crashed headlong into the Seljuk Sultan's positions.
Unlike Arbela, the ghulams did not hold.
Unlike Arbela, the Seljuk Sultan was quickly cut off.
Demetrios and the Hetaratoi slammed headlong into the Turkish ghulams, who were caught so by surprise that many of them were sitting at a standstill even when the Hetaratoi crashed into them at a full charge. The ghulams ceased to exist - surprised and crushed, they broke and fled en masse, the Emperor of Romanion in the lead of the pursuit.
Akin Ali tried his best to fight, alongside the 20 or so ghulams surrounding him, but there were simply too many Hetaratoi. The young Caliph, who would have reunited state and religion in a way that had not been seen since Harun al-Rashid, was pierced in the side by the kontos of one Anathasios Thrakesios, grandson of the strategos. Wounded and weakened, the Young Lion was corralled with hundreds of other prisoners as the Ghulam Guards broke ranks and fled under the sudden onslaught.
Like a gigantic ripple, the same began to happen across the battlefield. The Khwarzimanians, just before they made contact with Kourtzis' guardsmen, watched in horror as their Caliph's banners suddenly disappeared in a storm of steel and dust. They alone had the privilege of seeing the disaster. For the rest of the battlefield, the catastrophe revealed itself through fleeing men appearing in the dust, screaming of armageddon. The Romans had charged out of the dust with the Devil on their wings, and blood on their lips!
On the Turkish left, reforming for yet another assault, the news was especially disturbing. Through the dust, none could see the Caliph's position, adding an extra level of ominous to the reports. The Turkish lines wavered, as worried commanders gathered in the deepening pall to argue what to do next. Some advocated one last assault - if the Caliph was in trouble, the Turkish left could relieve him by pressing hard. Others advocated withdrawl.
All initially dismissed new rumors that were arising - that horsemen were seen to the left of the Turks, that they bore the banners of Romanion. With all the fearful talk about, the Turkish leaders thought their men were telling extravagant tales of whatever had happened to the Turkish right. As a consequence, the charge of 7,500 Romanoi from the left caught them completely by surprise.
The entire Turkish army came unhinged.
Christophoros, the last of the three major commanders on the hill, finally unleashed the Pechenegs and Vardaratoi through the Roman ranks and into the wavering Turks. The Turkish retreat descended into a full scale rout, then to a panic, as Akin Ali's carefully created legions ceased to exist. The Khwarzimanian cavalry fled north, away from the battle. Many of the ghulams "liberated themselves" by fleeing east, casting aside their arms and armor. The hapless Turkish infantry, having borne the brunt of the day's casualties, were cut down by the merciless Vardaratoi and Pechenegs, who freely looted and beheaded their victims before mounting to catch more. The grandly titled "Army of Islam" scattered to the four winds.
On July 18th, 1133, the lead elements of the Vardaratoi camped beneath the walls of Baghdad, even as Mosul and other great cities of northern Mesopotamia opened their gates to the Romans. It wasn't until July 20th that Akin Ali, weakened and depressed, signed an instrument of surrender.
Demetrios, in the end, showed a degree of diplomatic astuteness that would have made Nikolaios proud. The Emperor realized that there was no organized Muslim force between him and Persia... perhaps even India. Yet he also realized that Romanion did not have the troops nor the resources to put down the inevitable rebellions from such an enormous conquest. Therefore, considering the completeness of his victory, the terms of Demetrios Megos were comparatively light.
Romanion would regain ancient border fortresses such as Nineveh and Mosul in northern Mesopotamia. Romanion would regain Trebizond, and would annex all of Georgia, Armenia and Azeribijian. The Turks, in perpetuity, would recognize Christian control of the Holy City. Finally, the Caliphate and the Turks would deliever 7,000 pounds of gold, per annum in symbolic tribute to Konstantinopolis for the next twenty years.
The Second Seljuk War regained much of the original territory of Romanion that had been lost under the reigns of Emperor Konstantinos and Michael, as well as Georgia and Armenia.
The peace was humiliating. Immediately more challengers arose to the harried Akin Ali, and the lands of Islam descended yet again into civil war. As for Demetrios, he returned in triumph to Konstantinopolis, but already it was apparent the campaign had taxed him heavily. He was 64, and had led a rigorous campaign for the last time. His health began to fail slowly - at first he found it hard to mount the steps to his throne, then to walk anywhere, then to even get out of bed. The heavy, crouping cough that had begun on campaign deepened, until each one made his ever-thinning form rattle and shake.
By January of 1135, it was apparent the end was nigh.
From all over Romanion, the Emperor's sons and their retinues poured into the Queen of Cities - Georgios from Cyrenaica, Christophoros from his new holdings in Chaldea, Ignatios from the newly created Metropolitanate of Trebizond. 11 year old Manuel and 9 year old Demetrios, along with their 42 year old brother Nikolaios hovered by their father's side. On February 5th, the Emperor's breathing became so troubled that Ignatios called for a prayer over the body, and all the sons and grandsons gathered around him in the Purple Room of the Great Palace. As the sun set on that troubled day, the Emperor's breathing tightened, and finally subsided into a rattle, then nothing at all.
At age 66, Demetrios, called Megos, Emperor of Romanion, had left this world.
=============================================================================================================================
And so ends the reign of arguably Byzantium's greatest Emperor since Justinian - ignoring the fact he was a boor at times, cultural impoverished, and inclined for war. Who will securely inherit Demetrios' throne? Nikolaios has the title of co-Emperor, but Christophoros is the head of the army. And what of Demetrios' four other male children? And what about that little 'beatified' bit? How did that happen to our favorite wenching Emperor? These and other questions will be answered next time on Rome AARisen!
Last edited:
- 1
WOW!
*Triumphant blast of the victory horn*
WHAT an annexation - that in itself is a small empire
*Triumphant blast of the victory horn*
WHAT an annexation - that in itself is a small empire
That was unutterably and brilliantly epic. I think I've been inspired to write something, if only to ape the sheer brilliance of that scene.
I suspect that Christophoros might be crowned co-emperor with Nik in order to stave off a civil war between the two factions, but that still leaves the question of what happens to the rest of Demetrios’s brood (they’re too young to really count right now, but in a few years anything will be possible).
One more thing before I leave for home (and probably disappear for a few days):
Romanion as it stands on the death of Demetrios Megos. The darker purple lands are those that belonged to the Romanoi at his ascension to the throne in 1090, the bright purple are various lands added during his rule, and the other colors represent lands held by his various sons or the office of Emperor.
Nikolaios (age 42), by numbers of provinces, holds the most with Hebron and Imeretia. He also has the advantage of being Demetrios' co-Emperor - so his father's death technically leaves him sole Emperor of Romanion.
Christophoros (age 43) however, has the office of Megos Domestikos, and at the conclusion of the 2nd Seljuk War, he also has the title Prince of Chaldea, lands that are richer than those of Nikolaios, even if they aren't as numerous. He also has a large brood of his own.
Ignatios (25) now holds the title Metropolitan of Trebizond. He likely will have little future role in dynastic politics - the disaster of his mother's attempted coup having weighed heavily on his young mind and driven him into the arms of the Church.
Georgios (40) is in exile, in effect, in Cyrenaica still. His lands are too few and too poor for him to make much difference. Not that he isn't busy enough wenching and drinking away to care.
Interestingly, Manuel has been promised the title "Prince of Aswan" on his maturity (he is 13 at Demetrios' death). These lands south of Egypt put him numerically on par with Nikolaios, and wealth wise on par with Christophoros. He must see maturity first, however. Until that time they are held by the Imperial Crown. Next update, you will find out alot more about this young Komnenos.
Demetrios, at age 11, was far to young to even have lands promised to him.
And so, there you have it - the battlelines are drawn.
Romanion as it stands on the death of Demetrios Megos. The darker purple lands are those that belonged to the Romanoi at his ascension to the throne in 1090, the bright purple are various lands added during his rule, and the other colors represent lands held by his various sons or the office of Emperor.
Nikolaios (age 42), by numbers of provinces, holds the most with Hebron and Imeretia. He also has the advantage of being Demetrios' co-Emperor - so his father's death technically leaves him sole Emperor of Romanion.
Christophoros (age 43) however, has the office of Megos Domestikos, and at the conclusion of the 2nd Seljuk War, he also has the title Prince of Chaldea, lands that are richer than those of Nikolaios, even if they aren't as numerous. He also has a large brood of his own.
Ignatios (25) now holds the title Metropolitan of Trebizond. He likely will have little future role in dynastic politics - the disaster of his mother's attempted coup having weighed heavily on his young mind and driven him into the arms of the Church.
Georgios (40) is in exile, in effect, in Cyrenaica still. His lands are too few and too poor for him to make much difference. Not that he isn't busy enough wenching and drinking away to care.
Interestingly, Manuel has been promised the title "Prince of Aswan" on his maturity (he is 13 at Demetrios' death). These lands south of Egypt put him numerically on par with Nikolaios, and wealth wise on par with Christophoros. He must see maturity first, however. Until that time they are held by the Imperial Crown. Next update, you will find out alot more about this young Komnenos.
Demetrios, at age 11, was far to young to even have lands promised to him.
And so, there you have it - the battlelines are drawn.
Woohoo! I swear I could hear the music from Alexander playing, could hear Demetrios shouting 'Zeus be with us!'...haha...it was a lot like Arbela, except the differences you pointed out in your narrative. A truly epic update, very climactic and satisfying. What a crushing of the Seljuks and a huge swath of territory acquired. I can't wait to see the fallout and where Nikolaios' place will be.