CHAPTER 3: CHANGE OF THE GUARD (888-900)
June 30th, 888
Imperial Palace in Constantinople
"... and Strategos Konstantinos of Sicily defeated the rebellion of the peasants. The berber population still have not accepted our rule, and the situation had turned sour if it had not been for his swift interception. We should reward him. An appointment as anthypatos, maybe?" The faithful and ever loyal Sekallarios reached to start putting some dispatches from the new themes in the south, regarding activity in the frontier. There was always activity there. The situation was uneasy, but the last defeat and the war with southern Arabia kept the situation under control. Still, of course, there was the usual attack to caravans, and the occasional plunder from both sides.
The emperor was sitting behind his huge mahogany desk, the view of the palace on Hagia Sophia and then on the golden horn as magnificent as ever. The amounts of documents and manuscripts now covered the walls, bundled on rolls or papyrus, even when the new 'books' of parchment where starting to get more used for their better durability. For once the emperor had stayed now for three years, to put in order the empire. Not that the emperor did not indulge himself in barechested wrestling matches, always happy to impress with his huge body, and the tremendous scars that graced his left shoulder and his right side. And the great huntings that did not only not tire Basil, but actually revitalized him after weeks of dealing with papers and bureaucracy.
Currently, a big discussion was going on in the inner council of the emperor about wether to return to the larger despotates or to keep the themes composition. But it was a moot point with the emperor. The empire was not yet big enough for old provincial governos that could with such power menace the power of the emperor himself "The way that the revolts in Sicily have been handled prove it that we can muster the force fast enough. And my new Thegmata will help to face better the bigger menaces... That's what old Bardas never could do, you know? He still thought old fashioned." Still the emperor paused and frowned his brows as he looked at the Sekallarios "But you are just... bidding your time. Why is that?"
Damn. He still saw him as a charming brute, and this man had already 20 years of experience of command now. Well, it was no use giving it more time. "Sire... the... the reports from the northern themes... The Magistros seems to have been... well..." Basil looked with a bothered expression and said "Spit it. Whatever Ioannes has done." The Magistros and the Emperor had become more and more stranged with the years. He was very angry that his years of service to the empire had not been reward with the expansion of his theme, as he had asked many times, and when the frontier against the Bulgars had been pushed closer to the Danubium he had become rabid when nothing had been awarded to him. He had got quite close with the younger brother of the Emperor, Marinos. A younger man that had no other merit but to be in moderate good terms with his powerful brother, he had been awarded the neighbouring theme of Croatia, having led the imperial thematic levies of the zone to reclaim along the Dalmatian shore. Marinos had always been a greedy bastard, and while he never would have dared to do a thing against his powerful brother... "Please, allow me to introduce one of my best men..." A young auburn headed man, dressed with a tunic that was more fitting for a priest than for a bureaucrat. The man had bright eyes but the emperor could only wince when he realized he had the markings of an eunuch slave.
Antonios noticed the wincing of his lord. The emperor never had liked employing eunuchs, as he probably had seen many of his fellow captured slaves in his youth suffer this horrible fate, but Antonios had used them extensively in the imperial bureaucracy. They were loyal to the empire and not to any family, and indeed they were actually castrated by their own families to be sold into the imperial service for a very great price, when the boy showed promise and intelligence with letters and numbers. "This is Ioustinianos. He has been working in the documentation and census of the northern themes and he had found some months ago many interesting details." The eunuch bowed low and awaited the permission of the emperor to speak.
Basil looked at the young man with distaste and sighed "Ioustinianos, eh? So, are you from the city?" The young man had a natural charm for sure, that Basil could recognize. "I was born in Nikopolis, sire... my family was one of traders, and they sold me to the late king Symeon. I was later captured in the north when the Magyars invaded the northern plains, but I could manage to escape, first to the latin lands, and then found my way to the Imperial Service" That made the emperor blink, and Antonios could only smile to himself at the fact that he already knew that the story would get to the emperor and his humble past. "I see... eh. Alright. What's the matter with my Magistros?" The eunuch was not tall but he could certainly project his own space when readying himself to talk "I have been serving as aide your brother Marions in the frontier. My... experience with the Bulgarians and Latins made me be chosen to participate in border negotiations on behalf of your brother the Doux Marinos. The situation in Bulgaria has been very... volatile, with the three sons of old king Boris fighting for the throne for years now. I knew the langugage and the customs. And that's how I noticed that they were hiding something. Indeed they really did not behave as merchants... but they were clearly nobles in the bulgarian court. They were there to see your brother... and your Magistros."
That made the emperor straighten on his chair "The bastards... Marinos, Marinos... damn. But... they could not hope to... to try anything against me. The Bulgarians are finished if they keep going this way". The eunuch nodded "Indeed, and it is comforting that your brother and your friend, as I managed to convince the... let's say, weaker of those bulgarians, did not quite want to conspire against you." He took a breath and said "They were conspiring against the princes. For when... you are no longer among us. They think both your sons have a bad reputation as... well, not martially inclined, while your brother had a certain success with the fighting in the north. They believe in fact that you would not want yourself to allow young Leo to ascend the throne, nor young Konstantinos, neither the very young Nikephoros. They are indeed taking Bulgarian gold to finance their... bid for the succession, channeling it to key governors in the north."
Basil felt his heart go smaller. He wanted to feel angry... but could he blame his brother for having the very same thoughts that he had himself. It took a while for him to see again the dead body of Michael to realize what was the Christian thing to do. But he could not punish them for... for this. "I see. That's a very keen eye on you. You seem... very learned" The eunuch just nodded and neutrally said "Sire." Basil was already gesturing to Antonios "Make them come here. Think a good excuse. Mm... we are planning on those cities in the north of the Sea. Our colonies in the Cherson are just so lonely. And we have had so much problem with riders in the past. Time to get those lands back in the fold. Start preparing my thagmata and the fleet..."
The Magistros was finished... but even then Antonios knew that again Marinos was going to escape with a slap on the wrist for this. Marinos would not forget Antonios' role in this though... mmmm. Well, it seemed that even while the emperor had never officially said so, it was going to be Leo after all. The young man could not hold a sword, much less direct soldiers in the field of battle, if his life depended on it. But he had an eye for the court, and he was... well, he was as good natured and fairminded as his father, something that the Sekallarios could certaionly appreciate. Certainly more patient, though. It was time to prepare things for him. The emperor was over fifty, he was prodigiously healthy, yes, but with so many wounds in the past... such a rough life. Yes, it was time to start moving the pieces... if he wanted to save his life when the emperor died.
September 30, 895
City of Palmira
It was a normal day. It had to be a normal day in the rocky and hot place he had been exiled. He knew he should not complain... his younger brothers were in the luxury of the capital at least. He was supposed to be the lucky one... given the newly conquered territory. Defending the Empire. He was the older brother but he had never been meant to govern. He hated it... to come and go through the frontier, checking the defences in this... bottom of the world. He had been told that if he distinguished himself, he still had a chance to recover the favour of his father. But he did not want it. He missed his brother Leo. Could the people not understand that they simply liked each other? He had heard the stories, true, that Leo was the son of the emperor Michael. But Leo had just ignored it with a laugh. If it was true that meant that he was the son of two emperors instead of one. And was not that far better? They promised each other when they were young that they would never fight, no matter what. Even when their own father somehow wanted Konstantinos to... well, to be more like he had been. But he could not do that.
His thoughts were shaken when he noticed a disturbance in the distance. His provincial guards formed around him, but even then it was clear that there were two riders of the light cavalry hurrying through the wide street towards him and his group. They stopped and were clearly excited. No,disturbed and... scared, rather. He felt a knot in his stomach when he already guessed what was happening. The first rider was dirty, as after hours of fast and exhausting riding, then he said "My prince... the arabs... they are in the frontier... they are a full army... they... they are heading here. They shoot one of us with... with this." He handed an arrow and with trembling hands Konstantinos unfolded the cloth with writing on it and the seal of the Abbasids.
The prince was clearly frozen with fear, and his captain of the guard shook him and said "Your excellence! They... they are just a day from us! What should we do" He swallowed and tried to think what his father would do. A rousing speech, putting everybody in motion and in a rush as he knew so well how to do. regrouping in the castle of Arak and ressist for reinceforments. But he could not do that. He had not enough soldiers and levies to stop the full might of the Caliph and he just swallowed and not even managing to hide the panic in his voice he said "G... g... gather all... we are leaving... leaving for Aleppo... no... no, for Antioch... we need to defend a port... so... so the reinforcements can arrive from the City... we must leave now!" The captain could not believe it "But.. but that's hundreds of miles away... we..." The prince shrieked at him and shouted "DO IT! Let's LEAVE NOW!" He could not help but to feel the shame as he saw the faces of the people of Palmyra as he abandoned them, but he could not help but to imagine his head on a pike, on the gates of the city he was hurrying through.
January 18th, 896
Antioch
The doux of Antioch returned to the room where the leaders of the themes had gathered. "Arak and Palmyra has fallen. The turk bastard is having its winter quarters there, with our supplies, and he is marching. To where... god knows. He could march to Aleppo. He could go to Beirut and then here. I personally think that is what will happen." The room fell silent, the provincial leaders of Cilicia, Edesa, Tripoli and his own Antioch were already there, and the rest of the empire had been alerted, the troops arriving as fast as they could. The prince Konstantinos and his uncle Gennadios... actually an uncle younger than the newphew, the father of the emperor having married again late in life when he was granted the theme of Edessa, huddled toguether, the prince saying "They are so many... we should wait for my father to come and he will..."
Helias, doux of Antioch had been one of the best commanders of the emperor in the last campaign, and had even marched in the last triumph. It was hard for him to understand that this was the son of the Emperor, that god of war he admired so much. And they said that the other prince was not his real son? Heck... he could not be worse than that. He cut him with a gesture and looked at him grimly "Your father is not coming. He was on the north shore of the Black Sea, that was the last news we had, with the imperial army busy in the Cherson. We don't even know if he even knows yet that the arabs are attackign us. He might not know for months." He sighed and says "The fleet will take reinforcements, but without defenses in Aleppo and Tripoli... they will be here soon enough. When that happens, we must march towards them. We will have what we have. And we fight."
Prince Konstantinos paled "Without the cataphracts we can't stop them... they are... they are too many... they will..."
"Oh, shut up already!" He had enough with this princeling, and he did not feel that he would be punished for it. "With all respects, your excellency, we have no choice in the matter. We have a good option when the nearby theme armies gather. If we give them enough time to entrench themselves all over Aleppo and Tripoli... we will not be able to root them out. It's now or never, if we want to hold what is ours." He looked with disgust at Konstantinos and then said "You can stay in Antioch to direct the militia and hold it for your... father's arrival if things go bad." It was an insult, that made his uncle Gennadios gasp, but it seemed it had gone over the prince's head as he hurried to say "That's a great idea...! I... I will hold the ground here." Gennadios blushed, and said with a tone that begged to save the reputation of his older half-brother "I will go with you, of course..."
May 11th, 896
East of Damascus
At the end the Doux of Antioch managed to gather more than twenty thousand men to face an army of roughly the same size. Still, he knew that the caliphal armies were already putting siege to Aleppo. He would not try to lift the siege there, though. The muslims would be fortified around the siege and they just simply could not face them there. No, his plan was to separate the main muslim army. And to do that he would go towards Damascus itself. With the grand capital of the Caliphs menaced, they would not have other chance but to separate their armies, to keep the siege safe in the north and to hurry south to defend Damascus.
When he saw the Arabian army displayed near the village of Otaybah, just miles east of Damascus, he did not feel now so sure of himself. They were just as much as they were, he guessed, and he was enough of a seasoned veteran to know those things at a glance. As his army was mainly provincial he had more infantry and archers, but he could see they had way more cavalry. Even quite a lot of those damn horse archers. They just had their brown and their experience to push through. They were a bit more than them, sure, with the arrival of the troops of southern Greece and the isles. The strategos of Epirus and Dyrrachium were very good generals and since more than half the army was from that area and knew and respected their leaders, he put them in charge of the center and the left wing, and consulted with them the battle plan. It was remarkably similar as what the arabs tried last time, which was quite unauspicious... but the circunstances were different. The heavy infantry would just try to punch and collapse the center of the arabian infantry, the smaller cavalry trying to divert as much as they could the turkish riders and their heavier lancers. The difference would be the arabs did not have any varangians on their side to hold their center. With the orders given, the horns sounded, and the armies readied themselves for battle.
It was a close business all in all, and all might have turned sour if the provincial army of central Anatolia had not arrived the battle when it was engaged, just on the flank where the arabian knights were starting to overwhelm the cavalry. They had got delayed in their way to Damascus, and it was just god's will that they had arrived just where and when they did, alarming the horsemen that just thought a full new army was arriving to the field from the north, rather than just one single regiment of a thousand and a half soldiers.
That bought the Roman army the time it needed, and with cries of victory the heavy infantry started to push deep into the centre of the enemy ranks. Slowly the arabian lines started to fold... and then to break. It had been a bloody and long business, but he could only cheer with the rest of his staff as they could see how the enemy collapsed and started to flee and escape the push of the huge shields of the Greek heavy infantry. It was a pity that this was not old Rome, as triumphs were only awarded to members of the imperial family for long. But god he deserved one so much for this. Well, the emperor was generous with victorious soldiers, and surely he would be rewarded in one way or other for this.
April 21st, 897
Siege of Tyrus, Byznatine Camp
The news arrived to the emperor, by a twist of fate the news of the invasion arriving at the same time than the news of the great victory at Otaybah. That made Basil take his time to consolidate the conquests and then during the winter sail south to arrive at Tripoli with the imperial army. As soon as the weather was good enough and the army gathered the invasion of Galilee begun. The Doux of Antioch was busy chasing the northern army that had remained besieging Aleppo. The prince Konstantinos was sent with him, and it was said that the Emperor had slapped in public his son for his cowardice. When the imperial army advanced south, they had just one problem taking Beirut. The problem being that the Strategos Ioannes, the marshall of the Roman armies during his whole reign, caught an stray arrow and died on the spot. The captain of the Varangian guard had died in a charge during the conquest of the Cherson, so for the first time the Emperor was no longer with his most faithful war companions.
Even then, the campaign was going well. The seas were firmly in the hands of his navy, and the coastal fortresses were hard, but nothing he could not chew. In no time, he would secure the region and force the Caliph to admit defeat. And Jerusalem would be then just so close... and Damascus. To have the blue jewell of the arabs so... close, at his grasp. He fancied he could reach and take it, when he wanted. But no, he should center in what was in front of him, as always. Anything else was a waste. He felt old, though... his old friends, dead but for his faithful Antonios, the best Sekallarios he could ever had. He called for the captain of the Varangians to discuss the camp placement and the defenses for the siege engines, and could not feel the same sympathy for this... Dan than for captain Sölvi. That night in his tent in Italy. That brought a smile on his lips. He retired for the night and asked his servants to wake him up at the first light of the morning. He never woke up.
The cries of the servants alerted all the camp, and the news spread like a sickness through the men. The Great Basil was dead, and the men felt... orphans. Without the direction of the ever victorious emperor, how could the triumph? The captain of the Varangians took charge of the army, but may of the Greeks strategos refused to serve under a pagan, and the incredulous garrison of Tyrus could see how the siege was clearly... faltering. When they heard that the emperor of the Rums was dead, there were celebrations in the besieged city, and several smaller boats sailed with the safer ports at the south to inform of the sudden stroke of luck.
October 25th, 897
The Phoenician ruins of Sarepta
"It seems our luck has ran out..."
Helias had become quite friendly with his fellow provincial governors of Epirus and Dyrrachion during the last year. They had driven out the arabs from Aleppo, and had hurried south at the horrible news of the death of the Emperor. They had taken charge of the siege of Tyrus just before the remaining anatolian troups were about to fight with the Varangians and provoke a real disaster. He managed to separate the pagans from the christians, and it seemed the problems had started when the norsemen had insisted and tried burning the corpse of the emperor against the outrages complaining about such a thing. It seemed it was a sign of respect but... he managed to convince Captain Dan before things could go worse, and finally push to surrender Tyrus.
But things were not promising... the news of the death of the emperor had reached the Caliph, who surely had taken this as a sign of Allah. A new army had been arranged, this time with bedouins from Arabia and the freshly conquered south. And on the contrary there were no news from the City.
"Who the heck knows what is happening there... do you think that they have made that Leo emperor? There might be a huge mess in the capital right there, not caring what happens to us to stab and poison each other. I am old enough to remember how things were with the other emperors, you know? Heck, even Basil murdered the previous one, he did not even try to hide it. You know the guy, Theodosios, you have been in the City much more than me. Do you think he has a chance? Gosh, if he is half as his brother, we are screwed". Indeed, the doux of Epiros had been much more in the imperial capital and knew the imperial family "Well... he has behind him the empress and Antonios the Sekallarios. He is a pansy, right, but he is a nice guy. Pretty charming. Great parties, you know? It was about "
They took a look at the arabian army camped in the distance... way more than they were, weakened after the siege of Tyrus and Beirut. "Great, we should tell them how nice our new might-be-emperor be. They sure will back off, right?" Their laughter was loud, but it was gallows humour. They could not escape, pressed against the sea as they were. The following days it was clear that the arabians smelled their blood, and soon they were deploying for battle. The only concern of the generals were to try to escape north as well as they could, when a handsome but delicate looking man entered the tent... at the side of none other of Antonios, the Sekallarios.
The very sight of the very competent bureaucrat made the generals hurry "Antonios... bloody finally! This means the thracian themes have arrived? Where the heck has happened in the City?" He looked nervously and directed his words to who he assumed was one of Antonios' faithful eunuchs "You...! Bring us some wine and hurry!" The man blinked surprised and actually grinned a bit sideways "what the feck are you waiting... hurry!" Everybody fell silent, and clearing his voice Antonios says "This is... er... Leon, the sixth of his name, Emperor of the Romans"
The blood drained from the doux of Antioch's face. He felt his tongue feeling like frozen water in his mouth, unable to move until he forced the clumsy and idiotic thing to do so "S... sire... I... I am sorry. I have never... I... I..." The man, to his relief, laughed with a gentle voice, that soon was joined by the others "Come on... I know that I am not such an imposing figure as my father, but at least I have brought you something way better than wine..." He took a step back and opened the flaps of the command tent. Through them they could see an army of ten thousand thracians and Macedonians that were joining the camp. "It seems that the Arabians have not noticed us during our night... disembarkment, I have been assured by my good Captain Dan that they will be moving on us. Better to receive them... right?" The doux swallowed and he nodded "Of course, Sire..." The man smiled... he was no longer a young man, but was in his thirty years of age already "You will command the armies. You have done an excellent work so far." He noticed something on the other side of the room... the golden brooched cape of the late Strategos Ioannes, that had been left as part of the baggage of the army. He turned to the Sekallarios and said "That belongs to the Strategos Autokrator of the empire, right?" Antonios smiled and nodded, then the emperor just simply walked, grabbed the cape and put it on the shoulders of the Doux of Antioch. As he did he leaned to whisper "I know who I am, my good Helios... it's time you all do too, don't you think?" The new Strategos of the Empire could only be grateful that the new Emperor was gracious enough to be fair and forgive his faux pas, that would have been... letal with other emperors of the past.
The emperor left soon after talking with his men, to get his own tent ready, and not to disturb the military deliberations. Antonios stayed and the old man gave him a dangerous smile and said just to the general "You see, the emperor is a good man... forgiving and fair. Gracious, you might say. But... remember I am not, alright? He is in fact surrounded by people that is not and that love him dearly. Isn't that fortunate?" Helios gulped and nodded, only able to say "Very!" and then focus on the battle at hand.
Christmas day, 899
Hagia Sophia, Constantinople
The huge interior space at the main nave of the Hagia Sophia was all furnished and clothed for such a quite a rare occasion, the wedding of the ruling Basileos of the Empire. Of course, the ecumenical patriarch himself would be directing the ceremony, and all the main lords of the Empire were in attendance. The emperor himself would advance first, while the proud father in law, the Strategos of the Aegean isles and main admiral of the fleet. The engagement had taken all by surprise, even the old admiral, who had never imagined that the emperor would have find so interesting his youngest daughter. Youngest daughter out of five daughters. Well, legitimate daughter. Despaired for his lack of sons he had tried bedding a lowborn... and yet she had still given birth to a sixth daughter! He thought he was cursed, until in a way all made sense.
The emperor had become from the great triumph against the arabs. After the great victory at Sarepta, it was the time to sail back to the City, but the faithful Sekallarios Antonios fell gravely ill during the journey and they had to stop at Naxos. The man had spent his last days of life... an old man, after all, older than the emperor he had served so faithfully. It had been his young daughter Irene, barely 14 years old, the one that had captured the attention of the emperor, who had remained unmarried, some say that as a punishment by his father for his acts in Crete, an action that he had been himself. The fact was that after the sad passing of his friend, and to his utter surprise, the doux had been approached by the man about marrying the young girl. When she would be soon of age, but he would not wait more. Of course, that was an offer that no man could refuse. And the fact that young Irene had been also charmed by Leo did help to his final decision.
Indeed, the doux and his daughters sailed to Constantinople after the emperor did, as great celebrations of the victory started, brighter and more cheerful than ever, to celebrate the actual coronation. The young man seemingly had decided to do a bold political move, adviced by Antonios and his mother, to go with the army to Beirut without securing his own coronation. The empress Eudoxia had been gathering a loyal party around her and her son, and while his charge as kuropalates had seemed a bit low key for the heir of the empire, it had matched Leo's particular virtues perfectly. And then the timing had been perfect... no matter how the army knew that the Emperor had not directed the battle but just see it unfold with the Strategos, that still was good enough, specially once privately paid agents masquerading as soldiers used the victory celebrations the following night to make a greatly exaggerated account of how the emperor had saved them bringing the new army.
What counted was that the new emperor, regarded as a craven and derisevily spoken about by many, was now wildly popular, and he did know how to exploit that. The emperor was an impresionable man for sure, and he did not project the sort of presence that his father had. Indeed, he was easily given to be lured to other viewpoints easily, but yet he had an innate sense of justice, and a patience that helped him in his endeavors. He had an attention for the detail that had helped him to always find the right thing to say, the right clothing to wear and... certainly the perfect celebrations to make the people go wild. The festivals and celebrations were wild, but the people was promised even more for the upcoming wedding. The celebrations were even kept as the leaders of the empire were called for a week of lavish banquets in the palace and new celebrations in the Hippodrome for the winter, and the people nearly had time to breath before the wedding had arrived. And some of the more troublesome theme governors had some generous gifts to make them convinced that the wild ramblings of the Emperor's uncle Marinos about the fact that he would have been his older brother's favourite successor would go in empty ears.
The emperor himself wanted to give a prominent possition in the festivities to his brother Konstantinos but he had rejected the honour. Better for everybody to think of him badly, lest he would attract more conspirators than their uncle Marinos ever could. He had never wanted this honour, and he had a family now...he had married low, but happily, and he promised he would defend the frontier better for his brother than he had done for his father. When the brothers hugged just before the wedding, they knew this would be the last time they would ever meet. He wished as he was waiting for his bride that his father's friends would be here. But Antonios had been the last one of them. Antonied died ill and old... The old Strategos Ioannes dead in the siege of Beirut. And the last of the conspirators that killed his... well, his maybe father Michael, dead in the dungeons of the Blachearnae castle five years ago.
He had his own close council now... the eunuch Ioustinianos would be as faithful as Antonios, even in his possition of Magistros, and the Doux of Antioch, Helios, had a quite close temperament to his, calm and fair, to feel friendly with him once he had gone over his repulse to physical conflict. The new sekallarios was more an unknown to him, a friend of Antonios, Prokopios of Dalmatia, but he had to trust the oppinion of his old friend. Konstantin of Abkhazia was... maybe not the best one for his personal head of intelligence, but the man, a georgian, was very savvy regarding that kingdom, and he had the sensation he would need some insight in that direction soon enough. Still, he knew that his council wanted him to speak about the chances that the weakened state of the hated Bulgarians, after the Magyars had driven them from north of the Danube, presented. But that was going to be after a very pleasant honeymoon...