Rome AARisen - a Byzantine AAR
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I loved the metaphorical chessmatch mixed with the actual one between Manuel and the Patriarch. Well done.
I'm starting to get worried for Nik...he's weathered some serious challenges before, but this is threatening to get quite ugly.
I'm starting to get worried for Nik...he's weathered some serious challenges before, but this is threatening to get quite ugly.
Very good chess scene. I'm wondering just how effective that light fleet will be. Was it a mistake to grant the ships or just enough for success to be had? Look forward to more!
Well, the next reply is here... first a couple responses:
RGB - Are the Church and Empire really one? Considering Manuel's past of scheming, the Patriarch has the right to be a little concerned about his intentions...
Fulcrumvale - It would appear so yes.
Alfred Packer - I love putting in little things like that. And yes, it is threatening to get very ugly maybe even move into a three way war.
Mettermck - Thrakesios is a bureaucrat, and as all good bureaucrats are prone to do, he figured he would send just enough ships to get the job done, without acquiring the wrath of his superiors (the Emperor).
And without further ado:
January 20th, 1140
"Highness?"
"What?" Romanos Thrakesios asked in annoyance. The builders were putting up the rafters for the small chapel that would be attached to the villa when it was complete. Thrakesios had heard rumors about them using unsound methods, and wanted to supervise himself along with several architects he had hired. When the Prince of Bosnia turned, he saw a herald, dressed in the colors of the Imperial Palace.
That immediately got Thrakesios' full attention.
"What is it?" he asked again in a more polite tone, gesturing the man towards the inside of the villa.
"Highness, Prince Manuel bids you greetings, and says there is a matter of mutual benefit you should both discuss."
"Is that so?" Thrakesios' mind began to run amok, trying to figure out why the Prince of Aswan wanted to talk to him. Had he heard of Thrakesios' meeting with Kaukadenos? Basilieos wasn't the brightest of men, and he could have let anything slip.
But officially Thrakesios had only promised to talk to the Emperor, he should be safe in that regard. He'd only just written up the dispatches instructing the light ships of the fleet to move. They hadn't been delivered anywhere yet...
"Where does he wish to meet?" Thrakesios asked finally.
"Outside the Hagia Sophia. He shall come alone, and recommends that you do the same. It is a matter very personal to the both of you," the messenger finished.
Thrakesios handed the man a gold coin for his work, and as the herald left, wondered in his mind what the Prince had in mind.
It was some hours later that Romanos Thrakesios stood under the shadow of the Hagia Sophia, his red silk cape and fine clothes making him stand out amongst the everyday crowd all around. As the shadows of the day grew longer, he began to pace impatiently, wondering if Manuel would ever arrive - so when a voice spoke from behind him, Romanos almost jumped from out of his skin.
"Romanos Thrakesios, son of Isaakios," Manuel said, clearly pleased he'd startled the man, "Well met."
"Well met, Manuel son of Demetrios Megos," Romanos sputtered after a moment. "I will be frank and to the point. You said you had something to discuss with me?"
"Yes," Manuel said, looking around the forum, "but not here. Follow me, I'll take us to a place where I am sure what we say will be in private confidence."
Romanos nodded, and followed the Prince into the Hagia Sophia. After a few steps, Manuel suddenly turned right into a small alcove, then went down a dark corridor. After numerous twists and turns, Thrakesios was completely lost by the time they reached a cold, dark stairway that led down.
"Down here," Manuel pointed. Despite the shiver in his spine, Thrakesios followed.
"Your friend Basilieios was in town recently," Manuel said as he took a lit torch and walked down the easily ancient stone stairs, "how is he?"
"Kaukadenos?" Thrakesios said guardedly as they descended further and further. He too grabbed a torch, and watched as its feeble light danced on the stones around them. "He does well - says the siege in Africa goes as expected."
"Good. It sounds like you know more about the siege in Africa than the Palace does," Manuel chuckled. Finally the stairs came to an end, and the two of them began to walk down the length of a long stone corridor. The air hung thick and damp around them, and Thrakesios could hear the echoes of a thousand drips of water through the corridor.
"He is an old friend. He told me much," Thrakesios offered, trying to bait the prince.
"In Romanion, old friends with information are valuable old friends," Manuel laughed, the noise echoing up and down the corridor. A short while later, the corridor opened into a huge gallery, massive columns as far as the eye could see, holding up a stone ceiling perhaps fifty feet above the floor. The artwork looked positively ancient, decorations of blatantly pagan gods like Zeus and Minerva, their eyes wide and lurid, completed the dark scene. Thrakesios felt a shiver, watching the light of their torches dance off of the stone figures.
One of the great cisterns beneath the city of Konstantinopolis. Through these cisterns and the great aqueducts that fed them, the population of the city grew immensely during the Komnenid dynasty's rule. By 1140 the city's population was nearing 280,000.
"What is this place?" Thrakesios asked quietly as his footfalls echoed off of the vaulted stone ceiling above.
"One of the ancient reservoirs beneath the city," Manuel said with a due sense of wonder. He looked over at Thrakesios and smiled. "When I said I wanted to talk to you in private, I meant so. No one will hear a word we say down here."
Thrakesios merely gaped at the vaulted ceiling that was barely lit by their torches.
"This one is no longer in use, obviously," Manuel smiled, "but did you know that there are now some twenty of these underneath the city within the Theodosian Walls?" The drip of water echoed up and down the hall, as the two continued to walk side by side. Thrakesios continually shifted his long cloak, trying to keep it from getting wet. Manuel, wearing only a black tunic and leggings, had no such difficulty.
"Amazing," Thrakesios said, watching the torchlight dance off the stones above.
"Indeed," Manuel smiled, "while we eat, drink, wench, and make merry, thousands upon thousands of tons of water sits right beneath our feet, constantly fed by the great acqueducts out of the city," Manuel went on, before stopping and turning around.
He was suddenly only inches from Romanos' face.
"Even while we plot, the water flows," Manuel said darkly, the torchlight casting shadows on his suddenly serious face. "Konstantinos Megos designed the city well. He was no fool - and neither am I."
Romanos backed away slightly. "I don't know what you can be speaking of!"
"This city can survive for years under siege, and as long as the Emperor controls the water, Konstantinopolis cannot be taken by any mortal army," Manuel hissed.
"What do you speak of! Why would..."
"You talked with Kaukadenos about the fleet, didn't you?" Manuel backed away slightly, his eyes still menacing Thrakesios. "Kaukadenos is a pawn of Christophoros. You know that, as well as I." The Prince suddenly turned his head sideways, looking at Thrakesios' hip as in inquisitive bird eyes a worm. "You have no dagger." A dark smile, then a flash of steel in the dim light. "Fortunately I have mine."
"H...Highness?" Thrakesios started backing up. Unfortunately, his back went flat against one of the columns, and his eyes went wide.
"You know, if a man dies down here, it might be years before his bones are discovered. Decades. Centuries."
"Highness... you... you take this jest too far!" Thrakesios laughed nervously.
"This is no jest," Manuel stepped forward, and cold, sharp steel gently touched Romanos' neck. "I have you within my power. When you leave this place, I will have you within my power. I have agents in every dynatoi household, in places you would never expect. You will do as I say, or your sons shall become Princes before they learn to walk. If they learn to walk at all."
Romanos held his breath and shivered, as the icy blade hovered along his throat.
"The Megos Domestikos asked for ships for Africa, yes?"
Thrakesios nodded hurriedly.
"How many?"
Thrakesios told him.
"No. You will give him more. 100 liburnians, 70 biremes 50 triremes and 40 dromons, no more, no less. When Christophoros makes his call for troops and ships to overthrow Nikolaios, you will join him personally," Manuel whispered harshly. "You will help him with everything he needs, do everything he says. When the time is right, a raven will come to you, bearing a message from me. You will do exactly as it says. If you deviate in any way, shape or form from these direct instructions, you will be struck down in the middle of the night, without a soul nearby to hear you scream."
Romanos felt his knees quivering.
"You are to speak to no one of this meeting, or you will be struck down. You are to speak to no one of my instructions, or you will be struck down. In fact, if my name is mentioned, by your lips or any others, in anything that is beyond ordinary conversation and I track it back to you, you will be struck down. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
Romanos swallowed hard, and nodded.
In a flash, the blade was back in its sheath, and a smile on Manuel's lips - a sudden, 180 degree change in demeanor that frightened the Prince even more.
"Good! Well then, come along!" Manuel pointed ahead, "the exit is up here, and there are some exquisite sculptures that were used as ballast during the construction." Manuel turned, and saw that Romanos had sank to the floor, quivering.
The Prince rather roughly grabbed the Megas Doux by the shoulder and hefted him up. "Come now. None of that! Let's go on!"
Romanos swallowed hard, and nodded.
"Come along!" Manuel dragged Thrakesios forward. "We're going to skip that section of the caverns, and go back to the streets. You look pale - some sunlight will do you good," the Prince laughed.
Romanos nodded emptily. It wasn't until he got back to his villa that he felt relaxed enough to retch the nervousness out of himself. Part of him inherently wondered why the Prince of Aswan, of all people, had demanded that he send a far larger force to Christophoros than necessary, a force large enough it would get the attention of the Emperor. Romanos Thrakesios was a bureaucrat however - he hoped the Prince of Aswan meant to cover for him, but he knew, ultimately, that if Manuel had him stuck in a web there was little he could do before whatever brood of spiders were about came to feast on him.
===============================================================================
February 5th, 1140
"Nikolaios, I'm afraid there's some bad news."
"What?" the Emperor turned from his writing. Lately it'd been his only solace in a world of plots and intrigue. He was nearly finished with the Demetriad, as well as his revisions to his father's Strategikon. All that was left were little grammar corrections and a few clarifications. He was immensely proud of the project - pride that would undoubtedly be deflated by whatever bad news Manuel was about to tell him.
"The Megas Doux left a week ago with part of the Thrakia Stolos," Manuel said quickly. "He set sail south through the Aegean, officially on training manuevers, he hasn't returned! He's probably sailed for..."
"For Africa," Nikolaios said quietly. "I know," Nikolaios replied in a slightly gruff manner. He'd known for a while.
The Thrakia Stolos, with Romanos Thrakesios at its head, sailing for Africa
"It would appear so. Also, the Princes of Croatia and Abydos are also gathering an army near Zara - they say it is for 'training,'" Manuel chuckled lightly. Apparently the Prince thought their excuse was idiotic. Nikolaios could only agree.
"The thematakoi armies aren't raised unless there's a war - the dynatoi find maintaining them to be far too expensive," Nikolaios' face darked. "So its starting then?"
"It would appear so," Manuel nodded. "Now is the time to be bold, to be aggressive... you should pre-empt Christophoros with an invasion of your own. Think," Manuel said semi-wistfully, "Sail down to Africa with the rest of the Thrakia Stolos, and with the Sicilia Stolos, and bag all the traitors at once!"
"Thrakesios took more than half the Thrakia Stolos," Nikolaios countered, "including most of its heavy ships. What could I do with the Sicilia Stolos? It has no ships heavier than a quadreme," Nikolaios sighed. "I could marshal an army to match Christophoros, but without a fleet to match it..."
"That will not be a problem, brother," Manuel smiled darkly. "Marshal your other fleets, you have many. Put all the might of the Imperial Navy there... liburnians can cover anti-piracy work. You can focus up to 300 heavy warships on Africa, do so! You need to make a statement, that the office of the Emperor is not afraid of the office of Megos Domestikos," Manuel added. "There are whispers that you are afraid of Christophoros and his forces - whispers that only undermine your position. They say you are no son of the Megos, and that Christophoros is - he is a commander, he looks the part of a warrior Emperor, while, let us face the truth brother," Manuel looked the homely Nikolaios up and down, "you do not."
Nikolaios winced, but he knew that to be true. Christophoros, for what he lacked in brains, was tall, broad, and despite his age, still ruggedly handsome. He was a well known commander, who had banners to his credit from Arbela to Nisbis. He looked like the Megos, looked like a warrior Emperor, and looked competent, commanding and in charge, even if he actually wasn't.
Nikolaios had not been treated kindly with age. His tall, spindly form had grown thinner, and wrinkles now covered his face. His beard was shot with gray, and his eyes gave off a tired, worn look, in contrast to the fire that one saw in Christophoros or Manuel. To add to that misery, Christophoros had a small brood of children, and even Manuel already had a son, Demetrios, by his young wife Basiliea. Nikolaios only had the bastard Malhaz - while Michael was still officially the son of the Emperor, few anymore doubted any question about the young man's parentage.
"Let us say I chose to send forces to Africa to clip Christophoros' wings before he can take alight - who will command them?"
"You," Manuel grinned.
"Me? Why me?" Nikolaios asked suspiciously.
"You have some experience with sailing expeditions, you are the Emperor and would carry a weight of authority far greater than that of a mere delegate, and finally who else is available to command the combined land and sea forces that will be needed? I know nothing of the navy," Manuel said innocently, "Romanos and Demetrios couldn't command their wives if they wanted to, Malhaz - let us not go onto that subject..."
Nikolaios nodded slowly. "Who will control Konstantinopolis and face the Princes here in the field?" That was the true sticking point. Arguably he who controlled Konstatinopolis controlled the Empire - yet by not moving out to face Christophoros in the field, Nikolaios felt he might lose the city from within...
Manuel thought for a moment. "Well, you could leave things to Ioannis Agyros, commander of the Hetaratoi."
"No," Nikolaios started to pace, "Agyros is related by marriage to Christophoros' wife."
"Nikolaios Skleros, commander of the Athanatakoi?"
"He's in Africa with Christophoros!" the Emperor snapped. Nikolaios started muttering to himself, and looked down just in time to not see Manuel smile darkly.
"Who else is there?" the Prince of Aswan prodded.
Nikolaios' mind ran through the last of the possible candidates, and arrived at one name. Grimly, the Emperor turned to his younger brother.
"I don't trust you," Nikolaios grumbled after a moment.
"Why, oh why, dear brother?" Manuel crossed his arms and smiled.
Nikolaios' eyes narrowed.
"I will reiterate, for those who did not hear or ignored what I said before - it makes no sense for me to side with Christophoros in this dispute. He is an incompetent, he will rule inefficiently. With you," Manuel started to say, before Nikolaios interrupted him.
"Exactly!" the Emperor's pacing became more frantic. "It does not make logical sense, but your mind has always worked on a level of deviousness beyond logic!"
"I will take that as a compliment."
Nikolaios grated his teeth. He knew Manuel, if given the keys to Konstantinopolis, would completely go through the city's bureaucracy with a fine-toothed comb, pruning any persons he felt would not be loyal to him and him alone. Nikolaios was faced, in effect, with a choice in coup - either a military one by Christophoros, or a bureaucratic one by Manuel.
Neither were to his liking.
Yet Manuel's logic made perfect sense. Someone had to lead the army and navy against Christophoros, and Nikolaios himself was aware of the dark rumors - that the Emperor could not, would not face his brother in battle. Those were rumors that brought down Emperors, even dynasties if one was not careful enough.
The Emperor's pacing stopped, and Nikolaios sighed.
"A coup from within, or a coup from without," he murmured.
"Do you wish me to be coy, or to be brutally honest?" Manuel finally asked.
"Neither coyness nor honesty become you, brother," Nikolaios looked up. "Deceit and lies are more in your taste."
"Oh, not necessarily," Manuel walked over to beside the Emperor. "You know what will happen if you leave me in charge of the city. You will become a figurehead, I will actually rule - as you did to father for so many years. It is a system that works, Nikolaios! A smooth succession, you get to go into semi-retirement, while I gain the power I have coveted for some time."
"Indeed," the Emperor growled.
"The other option - Christophoros marshals his forces, uses the plunder of Beni Halal to hire mercenaries from Venice to Spain, and then sails for Konstantinopolis at the head of an armada, against an Emperor who in the eyes of the old dynatoi was too weak and afraid to face him," Manuel shrugged. "The results of that bloodbath would seriously weaken the Empire. Your friend the Patriarch also plots, and no doubt he would be inclined to move into the power vaccuum with allegations of his own..."
"What allegations?!" Nikolaios snapped. So Manuel knew. That noose was tightening.
"You know them quite well," Manuel said rather snidely. "As a matter of fact, the Patriarch is set to announce, from the pulpit in three days, that Malhaz is not your son."
Nikolaios looked down, tears in his eyes, in his mind he could hear the Empire around him starting to crack, and he prayed he had the strength to keep it from shattering. Romanion would need a strong ruler after Nikolaios, the Emperor knew for sure, and as much as he hated it, Manuel made sense as the only choice. Yet Manuel was too young, too rash - he needed time to learn caution, to learn that his plans could go awry, to have counter-plots to his plots, and counters to the counters. He needed, in short, to learn how to become the devious Emperor that Romanion now needed.
He was not yet ready.
"Manuel," Nikolaios looked up, his voice taking on the distant tone he had when issuing official orders. He was acting not as a brother, but an Emperor. "I am appointing you Megos Domestikos and Logothetes tou oiekanion, in charge of the Imperial military and intelligence network. You'll have full reign in the city of Konstantinopolis while I am gone - eradicate all rebels, keep the city secure, and uphold the laws of the Empire till I return," Nikolaios said grimly.
"You're not leaving immediately, are you?" Manuel asked with a touch of alarm. "You're surely going to wait for Christophoros to reveal his hand, and give you casus belli!"
"Why do that?" It was the Emperor's turn to smile darkly - he had clearly thrown Manuel's plans awry. "Strike the enemy when they're not expecting it! Maybe we can capture his message of war while it is enroute. If he hasn't sent one, a brief visit from his brother and the return of the Thrakia Stolos in its entirety might undo the need for war altogether!"
"But... how will you gather your armies and fleets on such short notice?" Manuel's voice dropped.
"If you haven't noticed, Manuel, I've had the regiments of the Palmyra and Damascus tagmata ready for some time - raising the Byzantion tagmata would have only alerted you and kept you from tipping your hand. Also, remember, dear brother, that Stoloi are also in Cyprus, Crimea, Crete and Epirus. I have had ships ready for some time - Christophoros cannot attack me except by water!"
"What?" Manuel was now barely talking above a whisper.
"Your plan was sound, Manuel, but it needed time... a large amount of time. You logic went as thus - correct me if I'm wrong - that it would take six more months for Christophoros to take Tunis even with Thrakesios' ships backing him up, and then another month for news of his impending march on Konstantinopolis to reach here."
Manuel started to speak, but Nikolaios held his hand up.
"Then you expected me to take at least two months to marshal my forces, another month of sailing for either of us, and at least several months for the issue to be resolved. So I would return around, say, the middle of next year?"
Manuel was visibly gritting his teeth in silence.
"While, if I marshal and sail now, I've shaved at least six months off your plan," Nikolaios shook his head. "Admirable thinking, but a failure, dear brother. You needed me to hand you power, and then wait while you consolidated some of your gains. You needed time to bribe and harass city officials, dynatoi and others - and the longer I waited before confronting Christophoros, the better you would have consolidated your hold. You clearly weren't ready yet, you've set wheels into motion you cannot yet control. And if I crack Christophoros quickly enough, and return quickly enough, I've broken your plans, haven't I?"
Manuel looked as if he was about to pout, a face that made Nikolaios laugh.
"Brother, I have done the business of the knife for three decades, you have done it for two years. I shall best you again and again - until the day you finally catch me."
"That day is rapidly approaching," Manuel warned.
"I know, but until that day comes, I shall glory in the present," the Emperor said with a flourish, then returned to his writing.
============================================================================================
The frontpiece of Nikolaios Komnenos' masterpiece, The Demetriad
So, age and experience has triumphed, for now, over youth and vigor. But has Manuel sent his raven yet? What message will it bring? Has Nikolaios predicted this as well? And how will the war between brothers actually play out? This and more in the next update of Rome AARisen!
RGB - Are the Church and Empire really one? Considering Manuel's past of scheming, the Patriarch has the right to be a little concerned about his intentions...
Fulcrumvale - It would appear so yes.
Alfred Packer - I love putting in little things like that. And yes, it is threatening to get very ugly maybe even move into a three way war.
Mettermck - Thrakesios is a bureaucrat, and as all good bureaucrats are prone to do, he figured he would send just enough ships to get the job done, without acquiring the wrath of his superiors (the Emperor).
And without further ado:
January 20th, 1140
"Highness?"
"What?" Romanos Thrakesios asked in annoyance. The builders were putting up the rafters for the small chapel that would be attached to the villa when it was complete. Thrakesios had heard rumors about them using unsound methods, and wanted to supervise himself along with several architects he had hired. When the Prince of Bosnia turned, he saw a herald, dressed in the colors of the Imperial Palace.
That immediately got Thrakesios' full attention.
"What is it?" he asked again in a more polite tone, gesturing the man towards the inside of the villa.
"Highness, Prince Manuel bids you greetings, and says there is a matter of mutual benefit you should both discuss."
"Is that so?" Thrakesios' mind began to run amok, trying to figure out why the Prince of Aswan wanted to talk to him. Had he heard of Thrakesios' meeting with Kaukadenos? Basilieos wasn't the brightest of men, and he could have let anything slip.
But officially Thrakesios had only promised to talk to the Emperor, he should be safe in that regard. He'd only just written up the dispatches instructing the light ships of the fleet to move. They hadn't been delivered anywhere yet...
"Where does he wish to meet?" Thrakesios asked finally.
"Outside the Hagia Sophia. He shall come alone, and recommends that you do the same. It is a matter very personal to the both of you," the messenger finished.
Thrakesios handed the man a gold coin for his work, and as the herald left, wondered in his mind what the Prince had in mind.
It was some hours later that Romanos Thrakesios stood under the shadow of the Hagia Sophia, his red silk cape and fine clothes making him stand out amongst the everyday crowd all around. As the shadows of the day grew longer, he began to pace impatiently, wondering if Manuel would ever arrive - so when a voice spoke from behind him, Romanos almost jumped from out of his skin.
"Romanos Thrakesios, son of Isaakios," Manuel said, clearly pleased he'd startled the man, "Well met."
"Well met, Manuel son of Demetrios Megos," Romanos sputtered after a moment. "I will be frank and to the point. You said you had something to discuss with me?"
"Yes," Manuel said, looking around the forum, "but not here. Follow me, I'll take us to a place where I am sure what we say will be in private confidence."
Romanos nodded, and followed the Prince into the Hagia Sophia. After a few steps, Manuel suddenly turned right into a small alcove, then went down a dark corridor. After numerous twists and turns, Thrakesios was completely lost by the time they reached a cold, dark stairway that led down.
"Down here," Manuel pointed. Despite the shiver in his spine, Thrakesios followed.
"Your friend Basilieios was in town recently," Manuel said as he took a lit torch and walked down the easily ancient stone stairs, "how is he?"
"Kaukadenos?" Thrakesios said guardedly as they descended further and further. He too grabbed a torch, and watched as its feeble light danced on the stones around them. "He does well - says the siege in Africa goes as expected."
"Good. It sounds like you know more about the siege in Africa than the Palace does," Manuel chuckled. Finally the stairs came to an end, and the two of them began to walk down the length of a long stone corridor. The air hung thick and damp around them, and Thrakesios could hear the echoes of a thousand drips of water through the corridor.
"He is an old friend. He told me much," Thrakesios offered, trying to bait the prince.
"In Romanion, old friends with information are valuable old friends," Manuel laughed, the noise echoing up and down the corridor. A short while later, the corridor opened into a huge gallery, massive columns as far as the eye could see, holding up a stone ceiling perhaps fifty feet above the floor. The artwork looked positively ancient, decorations of blatantly pagan gods like Zeus and Minerva, their eyes wide and lurid, completed the dark scene. Thrakesios felt a shiver, watching the light of their torches dance off of the stone figures.
One of the great cisterns beneath the city of Konstantinopolis. Through these cisterns and the great aqueducts that fed them, the population of the city grew immensely during the Komnenid dynasty's rule. By 1140 the city's population was nearing 280,000.
"What is this place?" Thrakesios asked quietly as his footfalls echoed off of the vaulted stone ceiling above.
"One of the ancient reservoirs beneath the city," Manuel said with a due sense of wonder. He looked over at Thrakesios and smiled. "When I said I wanted to talk to you in private, I meant so. No one will hear a word we say down here."
Thrakesios merely gaped at the vaulted ceiling that was barely lit by their torches.
"This one is no longer in use, obviously," Manuel smiled, "but did you know that there are now some twenty of these underneath the city within the Theodosian Walls?" The drip of water echoed up and down the hall, as the two continued to walk side by side. Thrakesios continually shifted his long cloak, trying to keep it from getting wet. Manuel, wearing only a black tunic and leggings, had no such difficulty.
"Amazing," Thrakesios said, watching the torchlight dance off the stones above.
"Indeed," Manuel smiled, "while we eat, drink, wench, and make merry, thousands upon thousands of tons of water sits right beneath our feet, constantly fed by the great acqueducts out of the city," Manuel went on, before stopping and turning around.
He was suddenly only inches from Romanos' face.
"Even while we plot, the water flows," Manuel said darkly, the torchlight casting shadows on his suddenly serious face. "Konstantinos Megos designed the city well. He was no fool - and neither am I."
Romanos backed away slightly. "I don't know what you can be speaking of!"
"This city can survive for years under siege, and as long as the Emperor controls the water, Konstantinopolis cannot be taken by any mortal army," Manuel hissed.
"What do you speak of! Why would..."
"You talked with Kaukadenos about the fleet, didn't you?" Manuel backed away slightly, his eyes still menacing Thrakesios. "Kaukadenos is a pawn of Christophoros. You know that, as well as I." The Prince suddenly turned his head sideways, looking at Thrakesios' hip as in inquisitive bird eyes a worm. "You have no dagger." A dark smile, then a flash of steel in the dim light. "Fortunately I have mine."
"H...Highness?" Thrakesios started backing up. Unfortunately, his back went flat against one of the columns, and his eyes went wide.
"You know, if a man dies down here, it might be years before his bones are discovered. Decades. Centuries."
"Highness... you... you take this jest too far!" Thrakesios laughed nervously.
"This is no jest," Manuel stepped forward, and cold, sharp steel gently touched Romanos' neck. "I have you within my power. When you leave this place, I will have you within my power. I have agents in every dynatoi household, in places you would never expect. You will do as I say, or your sons shall become Princes before they learn to walk. If they learn to walk at all."
Romanos held his breath and shivered, as the icy blade hovered along his throat.
"The Megos Domestikos asked for ships for Africa, yes?"
Thrakesios nodded hurriedly.
"How many?"
Thrakesios told him.
"No. You will give him more. 100 liburnians, 70 biremes 50 triremes and 40 dromons, no more, no less. When Christophoros makes his call for troops and ships to overthrow Nikolaios, you will join him personally," Manuel whispered harshly. "You will help him with everything he needs, do everything he says. When the time is right, a raven will come to you, bearing a message from me. You will do exactly as it says. If you deviate in any way, shape or form from these direct instructions, you will be struck down in the middle of the night, without a soul nearby to hear you scream."
Romanos felt his knees quivering.
"You are to speak to no one of this meeting, or you will be struck down. You are to speak to no one of my instructions, or you will be struck down. In fact, if my name is mentioned, by your lips or any others, in anything that is beyond ordinary conversation and I track it back to you, you will be struck down. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
Romanos swallowed hard, and nodded.
In a flash, the blade was back in its sheath, and a smile on Manuel's lips - a sudden, 180 degree change in demeanor that frightened the Prince even more.
"Good! Well then, come along!" Manuel pointed ahead, "the exit is up here, and there are some exquisite sculptures that were used as ballast during the construction." Manuel turned, and saw that Romanos had sank to the floor, quivering.
The Prince rather roughly grabbed the Megas Doux by the shoulder and hefted him up. "Come now. None of that! Let's go on!"
Romanos swallowed hard, and nodded.
"Come along!" Manuel dragged Thrakesios forward. "We're going to skip that section of the caverns, and go back to the streets. You look pale - some sunlight will do you good," the Prince laughed.
Romanos nodded emptily. It wasn't until he got back to his villa that he felt relaxed enough to retch the nervousness out of himself. Part of him inherently wondered why the Prince of Aswan, of all people, had demanded that he send a far larger force to Christophoros than necessary, a force large enough it would get the attention of the Emperor. Romanos Thrakesios was a bureaucrat however - he hoped the Prince of Aswan meant to cover for him, but he knew, ultimately, that if Manuel had him stuck in a web there was little he could do before whatever brood of spiders were about came to feast on him.
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February 5th, 1140
"Nikolaios, I'm afraid there's some bad news."
"What?" the Emperor turned from his writing. Lately it'd been his only solace in a world of plots and intrigue. He was nearly finished with the Demetriad, as well as his revisions to his father's Strategikon. All that was left were little grammar corrections and a few clarifications. He was immensely proud of the project - pride that would undoubtedly be deflated by whatever bad news Manuel was about to tell him.
"The Megas Doux left a week ago with part of the Thrakia Stolos," Manuel said quickly. "He set sail south through the Aegean, officially on training manuevers, he hasn't returned! He's probably sailed for..."
"For Africa," Nikolaios said quietly. "I know," Nikolaios replied in a slightly gruff manner. He'd known for a while.
The Thrakia Stolos, with Romanos Thrakesios at its head, sailing for Africa
"It would appear so. Also, the Princes of Croatia and Abydos are also gathering an army near Zara - they say it is for 'training,'" Manuel chuckled lightly. Apparently the Prince thought their excuse was idiotic. Nikolaios could only agree.
"The thematakoi armies aren't raised unless there's a war - the dynatoi find maintaining them to be far too expensive," Nikolaios' face darked. "So its starting then?"
"It would appear so," Manuel nodded. "Now is the time to be bold, to be aggressive... you should pre-empt Christophoros with an invasion of your own. Think," Manuel said semi-wistfully, "Sail down to Africa with the rest of the Thrakia Stolos, and with the Sicilia Stolos, and bag all the traitors at once!"
"Thrakesios took more than half the Thrakia Stolos," Nikolaios countered, "including most of its heavy ships. What could I do with the Sicilia Stolos? It has no ships heavier than a quadreme," Nikolaios sighed. "I could marshal an army to match Christophoros, but without a fleet to match it..."
"That will not be a problem, brother," Manuel smiled darkly. "Marshal your other fleets, you have many. Put all the might of the Imperial Navy there... liburnians can cover anti-piracy work. You can focus up to 300 heavy warships on Africa, do so! You need to make a statement, that the office of the Emperor is not afraid of the office of Megos Domestikos," Manuel added. "There are whispers that you are afraid of Christophoros and his forces - whispers that only undermine your position. They say you are no son of the Megos, and that Christophoros is - he is a commander, he looks the part of a warrior Emperor, while, let us face the truth brother," Manuel looked the homely Nikolaios up and down, "you do not."
Nikolaios winced, but he knew that to be true. Christophoros, for what he lacked in brains, was tall, broad, and despite his age, still ruggedly handsome. He was a well known commander, who had banners to his credit from Arbela to Nisbis. He looked like the Megos, looked like a warrior Emperor, and looked competent, commanding and in charge, even if he actually wasn't.
Nikolaios had not been treated kindly with age. His tall, spindly form had grown thinner, and wrinkles now covered his face. His beard was shot with gray, and his eyes gave off a tired, worn look, in contrast to the fire that one saw in Christophoros or Manuel. To add to that misery, Christophoros had a small brood of children, and even Manuel already had a son, Demetrios, by his young wife Basiliea. Nikolaios only had the bastard Malhaz - while Michael was still officially the son of the Emperor, few anymore doubted any question about the young man's parentage.
"Let us say I chose to send forces to Africa to clip Christophoros' wings before he can take alight - who will command them?"
"You," Manuel grinned.
"Me? Why me?" Nikolaios asked suspiciously.
"You have some experience with sailing expeditions, you are the Emperor and would carry a weight of authority far greater than that of a mere delegate, and finally who else is available to command the combined land and sea forces that will be needed? I know nothing of the navy," Manuel said innocently, "Romanos and Demetrios couldn't command their wives if they wanted to, Malhaz - let us not go onto that subject..."
Nikolaios nodded slowly. "Who will control Konstantinopolis and face the Princes here in the field?" That was the true sticking point. Arguably he who controlled Konstatinopolis controlled the Empire - yet by not moving out to face Christophoros in the field, Nikolaios felt he might lose the city from within...
Manuel thought for a moment. "Well, you could leave things to Ioannis Agyros, commander of the Hetaratoi."
"No," Nikolaios started to pace, "Agyros is related by marriage to Christophoros' wife."
"Nikolaios Skleros, commander of the Athanatakoi?"
"He's in Africa with Christophoros!" the Emperor snapped. Nikolaios started muttering to himself, and looked down just in time to not see Manuel smile darkly.
"Who else is there?" the Prince of Aswan prodded.
Nikolaios' mind ran through the last of the possible candidates, and arrived at one name. Grimly, the Emperor turned to his younger brother.
"I don't trust you," Nikolaios grumbled after a moment.
"Why, oh why, dear brother?" Manuel crossed his arms and smiled.
Nikolaios' eyes narrowed.
"I will reiterate, for those who did not hear or ignored what I said before - it makes no sense for me to side with Christophoros in this dispute. He is an incompetent, he will rule inefficiently. With you," Manuel started to say, before Nikolaios interrupted him.
"Exactly!" the Emperor's pacing became more frantic. "It does not make logical sense, but your mind has always worked on a level of deviousness beyond logic!"
"I will take that as a compliment."
Nikolaios grated his teeth. He knew Manuel, if given the keys to Konstantinopolis, would completely go through the city's bureaucracy with a fine-toothed comb, pruning any persons he felt would not be loyal to him and him alone. Nikolaios was faced, in effect, with a choice in coup - either a military one by Christophoros, or a bureaucratic one by Manuel.
Neither were to his liking.
Yet Manuel's logic made perfect sense. Someone had to lead the army and navy against Christophoros, and Nikolaios himself was aware of the dark rumors - that the Emperor could not, would not face his brother in battle. Those were rumors that brought down Emperors, even dynasties if one was not careful enough.
The Emperor's pacing stopped, and Nikolaios sighed.
"A coup from within, or a coup from without," he murmured.
"Do you wish me to be coy, or to be brutally honest?" Manuel finally asked.
"Neither coyness nor honesty become you, brother," Nikolaios looked up. "Deceit and lies are more in your taste."
"Oh, not necessarily," Manuel walked over to beside the Emperor. "You know what will happen if you leave me in charge of the city. You will become a figurehead, I will actually rule - as you did to father for so many years. It is a system that works, Nikolaios! A smooth succession, you get to go into semi-retirement, while I gain the power I have coveted for some time."
"Indeed," the Emperor growled.
"The other option - Christophoros marshals his forces, uses the plunder of Beni Halal to hire mercenaries from Venice to Spain, and then sails for Konstantinopolis at the head of an armada, against an Emperor who in the eyes of the old dynatoi was too weak and afraid to face him," Manuel shrugged. "The results of that bloodbath would seriously weaken the Empire. Your friend the Patriarch also plots, and no doubt he would be inclined to move into the power vaccuum with allegations of his own..."
"What allegations?!" Nikolaios snapped. So Manuel knew. That noose was tightening.
"You know them quite well," Manuel said rather snidely. "As a matter of fact, the Patriarch is set to announce, from the pulpit in three days, that Malhaz is not your son."
Nikolaios looked down, tears in his eyes, in his mind he could hear the Empire around him starting to crack, and he prayed he had the strength to keep it from shattering. Romanion would need a strong ruler after Nikolaios, the Emperor knew for sure, and as much as he hated it, Manuel made sense as the only choice. Yet Manuel was too young, too rash - he needed time to learn caution, to learn that his plans could go awry, to have counter-plots to his plots, and counters to the counters. He needed, in short, to learn how to become the devious Emperor that Romanion now needed.
He was not yet ready.
"Manuel," Nikolaios looked up, his voice taking on the distant tone he had when issuing official orders. He was acting not as a brother, but an Emperor. "I am appointing you Megos Domestikos and Logothetes tou oiekanion, in charge of the Imperial military and intelligence network. You'll have full reign in the city of Konstantinopolis while I am gone - eradicate all rebels, keep the city secure, and uphold the laws of the Empire till I return," Nikolaios said grimly.
"You're not leaving immediately, are you?" Manuel asked with a touch of alarm. "You're surely going to wait for Christophoros to reveal his hand, and give you casus belli!"
"Why do that?" It was the Emperor's turn to smile darkly - he had clearly thrown Manuel's plans awry. "Strike the enemy when they're not expecting it! Maybe we can capture his message of war while it is enroute. If he hasn't sent one, a brief visit from his brother and the return of the Thrakia Stolos in its entirety might undo the need for war altogether!"
"But... how will you gather your armies and fleets on such short notice?" Manuel's voice dropped.
"If you haven't noticed, Manuel, I've had the regiments of the Palmyra and Damascus tagmata ready for some time - raising the Byzantion tagmata would have only alerted you and kept you from tipping your hand. Also, remember, dear brother, that Stoloi are also in Cyprus, Crimea, Crete and Epirus. I have had ships ready for some time - Christophoros cannot attack me except by water!"
"What?" Manuel was now barely talking above a whisper.
"Your plan was sound, Manuel, but it needed time... a large amount of time. You logic went as thus - correct me if I'm wrong - that it would take six more months for Christophoros to take Tunis even with Thrakesios' ships backing him up, and then another month for news of his impending march on Konstantinopolis to reach here."
Manuel started to speak, but Nikolaios held his hand up.
"Then you expected me to take at least two months to marshal my forces, another month of sailing for either of us, and at least several months for the issue to be resolved. So I would return around, say, the middle of next year?"
Manuel was visibly gritting his teeth in silence.
"While, if I marshal and sail now, I've shaved at least six months off your plan," Nikolaios shook his head. "Admirable thinking, but a failure, dear brother. You needed me to hand you power, and then wait while you consolidated some of your gains. You needed time to bribe and harass city officials, dynatoi and others - and the longer I waited before confronting Christophoros, the better you would have consolidated your hold. You clearly weren't ready yet, you've set wheels into motion you cannot yet control. And if I crack Christophoros quickly enough, and return quickly enough, I've broken your plans, haven't I?"
Manuel looked as if he was about to pout, a face that made Nikolaios laugh.
"Brother, I have done the business of the knife for three decades, you have done it for two years. I shall best you again and again - until the day you finally catch me."
"That day is rapidly approaching," Manuel warned.
"I know, but until that day comes, I shall glory in the present," the Emperor said with a flourish, then returned to his writing.
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The frontpiece of Nikolaios Komnenos' masterpiece, The Demetriad
So, age and experience has triumphed, for now, over youth and vigor. But has Manuel sent his raven yet? What message will it bring? Has Nikolaios predicted this as well? And how will the war between brothers actually play out? This and more in the next update of Rome AARisen!
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Manuel is brilliant. Devious, but brilliant. I get the feeling, though, his plotting is going to make him rather unpopular with the dynatoi. Incidentally, what are his stats in-game like?
What is and what ought to be are two different beasts altogether.
Haha, Nikolaios still has it!
For all his ruthless effectiveness I think it is very large question of whether or not the Empire will be better for Manuel having ruled it. Unfortunately, as he's pointed out to Nikolaios many times, what other choice is there?
Manuel's too shrewd for his own good, I think his subtle plots against Nikolaios were a bit too obvious. I could really understand why Romanos would give in, the thought of being abandoned in the cisterns down there carried a certain terror even through the paragraphs there. 
Stumped despite it all. Manuel has to know that the throne will be his for the taking. But every time he threatens a potential ally or tries to tip the scale he is isolating himself. A few more midnight trips to the undercity may leave him with fewer tools than he thinks he has.
Yay for another fantastic update!
And yay even more for Nik out-manoeuvring the young and rash Manuel!
And yay even more for Nik out-manoeuvring the young and rash Manuel!
I wonder if Manuel and Nik can really work together (assuming they don’t immediately off each other)—it just seems as if they fear and loath each other as much as they respect each other. It certainly won’t be as easy a relationship as there was between Nik and Demetrios Megos.
Fulcrumvale - I doubt Manuel and Nik would work together that well. I think Nik would be willing to put up with Manuel, but the younger man is too impatient to put up with his elder. There's definitely a love-hate relationship going on... well, perhaps not love, a word more like "need" fits in better, at least on Nik's end.
Oxford-Nik - Manuel is very clever, and very devious, but like Nik said, he has thirty years experience in the affairs of Roman politics. Don't attempt to con the original con man! (remember the Cuman War?)
Estonianzulu - Oh, Manuel knows that. Nikolaios' chief problem with Manuel is that despite knowing that knowledge, Manuel is impatient. He has the craftiness and deviousness to imagine and begin acting on a twisted plot, but he's far too impatient to see it through. Hence why Nik wants Manuel to succeed him, but not until Manuel has learned patience.
Mettermck - Romanos is nothing like his father or his brother Ioannis. He is a military commander, but he thinks and acts like someone sitting behind a desk job - aka. how can he just survive? Having a knife pulled on him in the dark cisterns... he won't survive against that. His father or brother would have probably kneed Manuel in the crotch and been done with it, lol.
VILenin - That is a good question. If Manuel can become patient with his planning and his actions, then the Empire will certainly prosper. If he succeeds to soon (the way he's going, if he succeeds at all), things could get very rocky. Rash intrigue and wars would be the rule of the day.
Alfred Packer - Manuel also thought he had his brother until right at the end. Nikolaios is just a little too crafty yet!
RGB - Indeed he does. Even at 47, do you think that 16 Intrigue is going to just sit by and let Manuel run amok? For those interested, if I remember right Manuel's intrigue was somewhere around 8 to 12, I need to look again. It was significantly lower than Nikolaios', I know that.
Lordling - That is always the risk. Becoming a truly feared ruler often drives people from loving you. Demetrios was able to achieve much, even lead Romanion into rash wars simply because he was beloved by many, especially the army. Manuel at present isn't beloved by many, and feared by far more. We'll see how well that turns out for him.
Oxford-Nik - Manuel is very clever, and very devious, but like Nik said, he has thirty years experience in the affairs of Roman politics. Don't attempt to con the original con man! (remember the Cuman War?)
Estonianzulu - Oh, Manuel knows that. Nikolaios' chief problem with Manuel is that despite knowing that knowledge, Manuel is impatient. He has the craftiness and deviousness to imagine and begin acting on a twisted plot, but he's far too impatient to see it through. Hence why Nik wants Manuel to succeed him, but not until Manuel has learned patience.
Mettermck - Romanos is nothing like his father or his brother Ioannis. He is a military commander, but he thinks and acts like someone sitting behind a desk job - aka. how can he just survive? Having a knife pulled on him in the dark cisterns... he won't survive against that. His father or brother would have probably kneed Manuel in the crotch and been done with it, lol.
VILenin - That is a good question. If Manuel can become patient with his planning and his actions, then the Empire will certainly prosper. If he succeeds to soon (the way he's going, if he succeeds at all), things could get very rocky. Rash intrigue and wars would be the rule of the day.
Alfred Packer - Manuel also thought he had his brother until right at the end. Nikolaios is just a little too crafty yet!
RGB - Indeed he does. Even at 47, do you think that 16 Intrigue is going to just sit by and let Manuel run amok? For those interested, if I remember right Manuel's intrigue was somewhere around 8 to 12, I need to look again. It was significantly lower than Nikolaios', I know that.
Lordling - That is always the risk. Becoming a truly feared ruler often drives people from loving you. Demetrios was able to achieve much, even lead Romanion into rash wars simply because he was beloved by many, especially the army. Manuel at present isn't beloved by many, and feared by far more. We'll see how well that turns out for him.
One other note -
It is that time of year again, for the ACA! So please, go vote for your favorite AAR, if it's this one or or if it's another. You won't believe how much encouragement it gives us authors to be nominated by our readers!
It is that time of year again, for the ACA! So please, go vote for your favorite AAR, if it's this one or or if it's another. You won't believe how much encouragement it gives us authors to be nominated by our readers!
Here's yet another short teaser... the next update will be rather epic in length, so it could take awhile to type. Hold on, the ride's about to get bumpy!
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The reinforcements of the Thrakia Stolos arrived off of Africa on March 10th, and the Beni Halal stalemate suddenly became a war of movement yet again. Seeing the Imperial Navy in force blockading Lake Tunis, King Aarif desperately launched a series of attacks, hoping to break out of his cage of starvation. However, the Roman lines held firm, and all of his desperate attacks were rebuffed. Finally, on March 15th, the King caved to the inevitable, and Tunis surrendered. The terms Christophoros had granted were light - there would be no rapine nor pillaging, King Aarif and his nobles would be treated with dignity, then sent into exile in Spain. However, once his army was within the walls, Christophoros told his troops they had three days to do as they wish. When King Aarif and his nobles protested, the Megos Domestikos had them murdered - their throats were slit in their tents. Christophoros' troops then went through the city, slaughtering anyone thought even remotely linked to the ruling aristocracy. It was thus that Beni Halal was broken, and Christophoros earned the sobriquet that would follow him throughout history - The Looter.
Christophoros immediately dispatched his fastest ships to all the ports of Romanion, with the news of his victory and, bouyed by the arrival of nearly half the heavy ships in the Imperial Navy, a call to overthrow Emperor Nikolaios. The loot from Beni Halal immediately found its way into the hands of numerous Italian Norman and Frankish sellswords, seasoned from campaigns in Italy and the wars between the Franks and the Norman English. Christophoros' army swelled in short order by 10,000 mercenaries on the promise of loot, plunder and pillage.
Nikolaios had scarcely remained quiet, however. As Christophoros looted and planned, the Emperor was readying the last of his own fleets and men, which all set sail for Tunisia on the 5th of April. It was an armada of forces from all over his domain - Syrians from Damascus, Cumans from Abkhazia, and a large contingent of Arabs and Africans from Alexandria. Among the personal domains of the Emperor, only the tagmata in Acre and Jerusalem remained untouched in the East. Almost 40,000 soldiers, and a vast armada of ships from various Stoloi Christophoros had not touched, headed like a great tsunami towards the
Tunisian coast.
When Thrakesios' fast liburnians first spotted the Imperial armada on the 7th of June, Thrakesios had been quick to warn his
master, and also quick to save his forces. Rather than entangling with the Emperor's superior numbers at sea, Thrakesios pulled back into Lake Tunis itself. A chain was linked across its entrance - the Megas Doux reasoned that a fleet in being was far better than no fleet at all. He reasoned that Christophoros' best chance to defeat his brother lay on land, not at sea. In the confines of a harbor breakout, Thrakesios also felt the superior weight of his heavy ships would be more useful than at open sea, where the slower dromons and tarides could be outmanuevered.
By the 18th of June, the Imperial armada had arrived - nearly 500 warships, and according to legend, over a thousand transports - the backbone of the Imperial fleet, from small thematakoi vessels to the remaining dromons and tarides. The entire mass, totalling some 40,000 troops landed north of Tunis, near Bizerte, and began to slowly rumble southward.
Christophoros in vain sent emissaries to his brother, hoping to buy time, yet they all returned to their master empty handed. The Imperial juggernaught moved south. Then Christophoros, with a detachment of his army, attempted to set up an ambush in the hills north of the city on July 4th. A seemingly lone detachment of infantry would reveal itself in one of the narrow passes, while hidden archers ringed the kill zone. Unfortunately for the Megos Domestikos, Nikolaios marched completely around the mountain, forcing Christophoros to withdraw to the plains below.
The Imperial armies steadily tightened their noose. Nikolaios wasn't keen to give his brother any chances. Imperial detachments always moved in force, with orders to skirmish and harass, but not engage unless the odds were decisively in their favor. Try as he might, Christophoros was unable to lure any part of the Imperial army into ambushes on the heights northwest of Tunis. Discouraged, Christophoros fell back with his entire force to the one point he knew was defensible.
The old ruins of Carthage itself.
Even though the great city had been conquered almost 400 years before, remnants of its great palaces, forums, and most important, city walls, still remained. The peninsula the old city had been situated on was infinitely more defensible than Tunis, and most importantly, large enough an army of 28,000 could safely deploy. The Megos Domestikos retired his troops, and considered his options.
Immediately the Emperor marched his troops east, and set up siege positions around old Carthage, while blockading the harbor with his larger fleet. Nikolaios knew time was of the essence, yet a siege looked far more useful - Tunis had just finished being reduced by siege, there weren't many stockpiled supplies, and suddenly thousands of more mouths to feed with Christophoros' army. As long as the rebel fleet remained locked in harbor, Nikolaios knew he could either starve his brother out, or force Christophoros into rash action. Either the Emperor hoped would leave him with enough of his main army he could return to Konstantinopolis, and if necessary, force Manuel to stay in line.
As the Emperor sat, the choices for Christophoros became clear. Christophoros and his supporters could stay in the defenses of Tunis, surrounded by a hostile population and a dwindling food supply, or they could march and sail out, and try to defeat the Emperor in the field. The Emperor outnumbered him on land by nearly 3-2, but Christophoros was by far a more seasoned commander. At sea, the Emperor had a superiority of 150 ships, but the Megas Doux had brought numerous heavy ships with him, meaning Christophoros had more dromons and tarides than the Emperor - an important advantage. Given the odds, and Christophoros' aggressive nature, the decision was not that difficult.
They only had to win either the land or naval engagement - winning on land would destroy Nikolaios' fighting force, maybe even capture the Emperor. Even if the EMperor was able to draw, it would undoubtedly rally the dynatoi around the Megos Domestikos. If Christophoros lost on land but was able to win at sea, he still had options - either sit in Tunis, now with an open line of supplies by sea and wait for the Normans, Turks, or any other enemy of Romanion to create a distraction, or board his ships and sail to Konstantinopolis, leaving the Emperor-without-a-fleet high and dry in the deserts of North Africa.
So Christophoros came up with a complex, but if it succeeded, brilliant plan...
The army dispositions on September 8th, 1140, on the eve of the Great Battle of Carthage
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The reinforcements of the Thrakia Stolos arrived off of Africa on March 10th, and the Beni Halal stalemate suddenly became a war of movement yet again. Seeing the Imperial Navy in force blockading Lake Tunis, King Aarif desperately launched a series of attacks, hoping to break out of his cage of starvation. However, the Roman lines held firm, and all of his desperate attacks were rebuffed. Finally, on March 15th, the King caved to the inevitable, and Tunis surrendered. The terms Christophoros had granted were light - there would be no rapine nor pillaging, King Aarif and his nobles would be treated with dignity, then sent into exile in Spain. However, once his army was within the walls, Christophoros told his troops they had three days to do as they wish. When King Aarif and his nobles protested, the Megos Domestikos had them murdered - their throats were slit in their tents. Christophoros' troops then went through the city, slaughtering anyone thought even remotely linked to the ruling aristocracy. It was thus that Beni Halal was broken, and Christophoros earned the sobriquet that would follow him throughout history - The Looter.
Christophoros immediately dispatched his fastest ships to all the ports of Romanion, with the news of his victory and, bouyed by the arrival of nearly half the heavy ships in the Imperial Navy, a call to overthrow Emperor Nikolaios. The loot from Beni Halal immediately found its way into the hands of numerous Italian Norman and Frankish sellswords, seasoned from campaigns in Italy and the wars between the Franks and the Norman English. Christophoros' army swelled in short order by 10,000 mercenaries on the promise of loot, plunder and pillage.
Nikolaios had scarcely remained quiet, however. As Christophoros looted and planned, the Emperor was readying the last of his own fleets and men, which all set sail for Tunisia on the 5th of April. It was an armada of forces from all over his domain - Syrians from Damascus, Cumans from Abkhazia, and a large contingent of Arabs and Africans from Alexandria. Among the personal domains of the Emperor, only the tagmata in Acre and Jerusalem remained untouched in the East. Almost 40,000 soldiers, and a vast armada of ships from various Stoloi Christophoros had not touched, headed like a great tsunami towards the
Tunisian coast.
When Thrakesios' fast liburnians first spotted the Imperial armada on the 7th of June, Thrakesios had been quick to warn his
master, and also quick to save his forces. Rather than entangling with the Emperor's superior numbers at sea, Thrakesios pulled back into Lake Tunis itself. A chain was linked across its entrance - the Megas Doux reasoned that a fleet in being was far better than no fleet at all. He reasoned that Christophoros' best chance to defeat his brother lay on land, not at sea. In the confines of a harbor breakout, Thrakesios also felt the superior weight of his heavy ships would be more useful than at open sea, where the slower dromons and tarides could be outmanuevered.
By the 18th of June, the Imperial armada had arrived - nearly 500 warships, and according to legend, over a thousand transports - the backbone of the Imperial fleet, from small thematakoi vessels to the remaining dromons and tarides. The entire mass, totalling some 40,000 troops landed north of Tunis, near Bizerte, and began to slowly rumble southward.
Christophoros in vain sent emissaries to his brother, hoping to buy time, yet they all returned to their master empty handed. The Imperial juggernaught moved south. Then Christophoros, with a detachment of his army, attempted to set up an ambush in the hills north of the city on July 4th. A seemingly lone detachment of infantry would reveal itself in one of the narrow passes, while hidden archers ringed the kill zone. Unfortunately for the Megos Domestikos, Nikolaios marched completely around the mountain, forcing Christophoros to withdraw to the plains below.
The Imperial armies steadily tightened their noose. Nikolaios wasn't keen to give his brother any chances. Imperial detachments always moved in force, with orders to skirmish and harass, but not engage unless the odds were decisively in their favor. Try as he might, Christophoros was unable to lure any part of the Imperial army into ambushes on the heights northwest of Tunis. Discouraged, Christophoros fell back with his entire force to the one point he knew was defensible.
The old ruins of Carthage itself.
Even though the great city had been conquered almost 400 years before, remnants of its great palaces, forums, and most important, city walls, still remained. The peninsula the old city had been situated on was infinitely more defensible than Tunis, and most importantly, large enough an army of 28,000 could safely deploy. The Megos Domestikos retired his troops, and considered his options.
Immediately the Emperor marched his troops east, and set up siege positions around old Carthage, while blockading the harbor with his larger fleet. Nikolaios knew time was of the essence, yet a siege looked far more useful - Tunis had just finished being reduced by siege, there weren't many stockpiled supplies, and suddenly thousands of more mouths to feed with Christophoros' army. As long as the rebel fleet remained locked in harbor, Nikolaios knew he could either starve his brother out, or force Christophoros into rash action. Either the Emperor hoped would leave him with enough of his main army he could return to Konstantinopolis, and if necessary, force Manuel to stay in line.
As the Emperor sat, the choices for Christophoros became clear. Christophoros and his supporters could stay in the defenses of Tunis, surrounded by a hostile population and a dwindling food supply, or they could march and sail out, and try to defeat the Emperor in the field. The Emperor outnumbered him on land by nearly 3-2, but Christophoros was by far a more seasoned commander. At sea, the Emperor had a superiority of 150 ships, but the Megas Doux had brought numerous heavy ships with him, meaning Christophoros had more dromons and tarides than the Emperor - an important advantage. Given the odds, and Christophoros' aggressive nature, the decision was not that difficult.
They only had to win either the land or naval engagement - winning on land would destroy Nikolaios' fighting force, maybe even capture the Emperor. Even if the EMperor was able to draw, it would undoubtedly rally the dynatoi around the Megos Domestikos. If Christophoros lost on land but was able to win at sea, he still had options - either sit in Tunis, now with an open line of supplies by sea and wait for the Normans, Turks, or any other enemy of Romanion to create a distraction, or board his ships and sail to Konstantinopolis, leaving the Emperor-without-a-fleet high and dry in the deserts of North Africa.
So Christophoros came up with a complex, but if it succeeded, brilliant plan...
The army dispositions on September 8th, 1140, on the eve of the Great Battle of Carthage
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Even the teaser is epic, and a great cliffhanger...I can't wait to see how the standoff in Carthage gets resolved, I've got my fingers crossed for Nik!
I was about to vote for you, but I suffered catastrophic accidentally exiting my browser's page error! Rest assured, though, when I write up my ACA voting thing tomorrow, you shall be on there.
Oh, very nice! And a beautiful map, I like how you laid it out. Carthage has such a fascinating geography.
Lets see: Nik will go down in history as the man who tortured a priest, Christophoros is now known as “the looter” and I can’t imagine Manuel will have a stirling reputation either. This family might have some image issues in a few hundred years…