While the Emperor was on his way to his final resting place, the armies of the Empire completed their destruction of all Fatimid forces in the province. By mid June Caliph Akbar was begging for mercy, renouncing his claim on the Despotate and sending a huge crate of gold in an effort to halt the Roman onslaught. Sophia might have ignored this offer, for all of Egypt lay open to conquest, had an uprising of heretics in Armenia not required her attention. The local lords could not, or more accurately would not, supply the Empire with enough troops to deal with the problem, so Sophia was forced accept the Fatimid’s surrender, so that the Emperors Legion could travel north to deal with the uprising. For a year the Legion chased the heretic army through the mountains and forests, until finally they caught up to them in late March of 1161. Outnumbered and surrounded the Bogomilst’s surrendered en masse. Their leader was taken in chains to Constantinople, where he faced a heretic’s death at the stake. But Sophia spared his life, on the condition that he either leave the Empire forever, or accept the true faith. Zartosht choose exile, and was promptly removed from the city… via catapult into the sea. With the uprising crushed, Sophia now turned to the final conquest of Egypt. All the Moslem lords now received formal declarations of war, with all the lands from Nubia to Cairo falling under the Empire’s gaze.
While her armies assembled in Alexandria, Sophia toured the city with her husband and young son Georgios. The boy had been born five years previously, and as such lacked the distinction of being born in the purple. However, a majority of the electors of the Empire had already pledged their support to him, making him the heir apparent. The boy took after his father, his face pale even under the harsh sun. His flaming red hair however came from his great-grandmother Karoline, wife of Emperor John II. Sophia loved the boy, but he seemed to prefer the company of his father over his mother. This caused her great distress, but she had faith in the boy. His eyes held the same fire that her fathers had, and she knew he would make a fine Emperor one day. Soon after arriving in Alexandria however, Sophia announced that she was pregnant again. All loyal citizens felt a swell of joy at the news, taking it as a sign of Gods favor for their new Empress.
At last the armies marched, twenty five thousand men spreading out all of Egypt. Most had come from Greece, but almost nine thousand had been raised by Alexios himself, again proving his commitment to the unity of the Empire. Swiftly the Imperial armies moved on Cairo, trapping the large Fatimid garrison inside the city walls. With the siege set, Alexios led a smaller force north towards the Sinai. Reports of these movements flooded back to Alexandria, where the Empress now entered the final stage of her pregnancy. Despite her physical limitation, she worked day and night at the business of state. Her father had been adept at this art, and it seemed his daughter was determined to be even better. She began to reorganize the various provinces of the Empire, removing power from the individual Doux and granting it to a Despot, who would answer directly to her. This would allow the individual Despots to respond effectively to any crisis that may occur throughout the Empire. However, it also created the potential for one Despot to wield enough power to challenge the Emperor, so Sophia made sure to only select the most loyal of nobles for the positions.
Finally word arrived from Cairo, the garrison commander had surrendered, and the armies moved forward to secure the entire county. Swiftly the armies of the Empire marched south, to challenge the last Fatimid bastion in Aswan. Meanwhile, Despot Alexios avenged himself and the Empire for his fathers death, crushing the combined infidel army that had been assembled to relive the beleaguered Fatimid's. Songs are still sung of that glorious day, even though victory was all but assured, thanks to the vastly superior numbers brought to bear by Alexios.
Meanwhile in Alexandria, Sophia’s labor drew near. She decided not to return to Constantinople for the birth, proclaiming that the city of Alexander was fit to birth a Prince of Rome. Nevertheless, her room was decked in the purple of her office, so that none could question the child’s place in the succession. Despite the change her father had made, many in the empire still clung to the old ways, preferring a child born to a sitting Emperor to one born before. If Sophia had a son, many would see him as the rightful successor, bypassing his older brother Georgios. November 15th, 1162 dawned, and all were awoken by the screams of the Empress. The hour had come, and all gathered in the hall to await the news. Konrad himself paced the room, worry etched on his face as his wife’s cries echoed down the stone steps. Finally, a midwife descended the stairs, and called for the Emperor. He bolted up the stairs, sending the startled midwife flying in his haste.
Konrad’s diary records the scene
I made it to the second landing before I realized I had lost my way. That cursed castle had so many hallways and floors that one could easily wander for days before finding ones destination. I began to panic, but then heard a faint cry to my left, and relalized it was the cry of a newborn. I ran, then saw the purple draped door and wrenched it open. My wife lay on the bed, soaked in sweat but smiling all the same. Her dark hair, usually tucked neatly under her crown, fell now past her shoulders. I am ashamed to saw that I felt a deep longing for her, even at this most sacred hour. The sound of the child brought me to my senses, and I looked franticly for its source. My wife called “Here husband, I have him here.” ‘A son then.’ I though to myself, and hurried over to her side. Wrapped tightly in a purple cloth was my second son, and he was beautiful. He was currently absorbed in his first meal, and I again fought to conceal my embarrassment at my wifes predicament. I failed, and she scolded me for my discomfort. Changing the subject, I asked if she had though of a name. ‘I have’ she said ‘I named him for my brother’ I stifled a laugh and asked ‘which one, you have more than I can remember.’ Her blue eyes rolled as she smirked, then answered ‘Not only for my brother, but for my ancestor, and for the one this city was named for. His name is Alexios, and he is destined for greatness.’ I stared at her, for Sophia was never one for meaningless grandeur. Her eyes told me she was sincere, but all mothers must think the same of their sons….
Konrad's dissmisal of his second son's destiny would prove to be premature...
Prince Alexios
