Chapter 9 - The Horns of War
OOC: Sorry this update is kinda late, I've been busy. Won't be an update tomorrow, I have Music Performance Assessment (MPA) to go to after school and that'll probably take the rest of the day when I combine it with homework.
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Cold. Then night was freezing, bitterly cold. Francesco I and his two illegitimate half-brothers, Antonio and Domenic, each sat atop a horse as black as night. The wind zipped past them as they watched the fires of their soldier's camps below. Ever since the council had unanimously voted to go to war with the Byzantine Empire, Francesco had been forced to ride with his soldiers to at least maintain a semblance of popularity. The fact that his seemingly magical ability to always lose was driving his popularity down even more was certainly aggravating. "Rouse the men. The time for battle is now." About fifty miles southwest from Attica, the Byzantines had made a small army camp, preparing to strike at Athens itself. The total numbers there probably only managed to make 5000, while the Athenian army was 7000 strong. Despite his bad luck, Francesco was sure he could win.
Five hours later, the army was marching, and now the Byzantine camp was in sight. The night had become morning, and the first light from the sun was now shining on a battlefield soon to be stained by the blood of soldiers. "Lord in Heaven, forgive me for those whose souls I take on this night, and those of mine who I have led into their death. Let you be with them in the heavens above," prayed Francesco in an undertone, far away enough from anyone to be heard. "Form the line!" he shouted out, and picked up his horn. The Byzantine army was assembling itself, but it wouldn't be fast enough if Francesco could help it. He sounded the horn five times, and the soldiers spread out about three or four men deep and twenty men wide per infantry column, and they began advancing down the hill. "Aera! Aera!" cried the soldiers. They swept down like the wind, just like they cried. Though Francesco barely understood a word of Greek, he knew what they were shouting, "Wind, Wind!". Suddenly, it seemed the time had passed in a second. He was behind an infantry column, riding back and forth to each to shout words of encouragement.
He yelled orders in Italian, so that the Byzantines would not understand. That had been his plan, because each citizen was supposed to learn both languages. However, ever since Greek had been adopted as the official language, Italian and Latin both had been abandoned. He didn't know this though, and his soldiers didn't understand what he was saying. Still, the tide of war seemed to be turning his way regardless, and from the looks of it, the Byzantines were beginning to retreat. But suddenly, five distinct horns blew, a few seconds apart. One from the east, one from the west, one from the south, one from behind the Byzantines to the north, and one to the southeast. Looking around for what caused it, Francesco was dismayed to see the Hungarian banner, and the sound of horses. Hungarian cavalry.. how had he forgotten? The Byzantines were allied with the Hungarians, and quickly, the infamous horsemen were upon them. They smashed into the infantry columns, and Francesco pulled back. His men were dropping like flies. It would be stupid, and irresponsible, to let all of them and himself die. He rose the white flag of surrender, and was forced to negotiate on how to end the war. In the end, it was decided that Athens would cede Cyprus to Byzantium, an island it hadn't had much control over regardless.
A year later, the tragedy of the war had been forgotten. Theodoros was ridiculed, but he had maintained the alliance with Castile, and Athens prestige with the world was more or less the same, despite losing a few battles and ceding an island (which it had never legally gained in the first place). But the Castilians called them again, once more to war with the Byzantines. This time, the Empire was weaker, but it was still dangerous.
In addition, the truce with Byzantium still held. It had been made to last five years, more for the help of Athens than the Romans. Still, it was illegal to breach it no matter which side broke the contrast. The council and Francesco were forced to accept, they wouldn't throw away everything they had lost so much for. Hopefully, Athenian independence would remain.
However, good news had reached Athens. The lands normally called Cape Verde, and being renamed Cape Salamis, it was now controlled by Athens.
A few years later, peace was finally made with the Byzantine Empire, and not too much had been lost. All Athens was forced to do was formally concede that it had lost the war, without giving up much else. Sure, it lost some prestige, but Athens was really at the bottom of the world right now regardless, as much as Theodoros hated to think of it that way.
Knowing that Cyprus would soon be in the hands of the Romans, Theodoros, mainly out of the goodness of his heart, had sent a message to the residence of Dmitry and Anastasia. They were invited to return to Athens for a ceremony (coincidentally, of course, one taking place the day Cyprus would formally change hands) There actually was a ceremony that day, and each Councilor was allowed three guests. Theodoros decided his would be Francesca (not that she needed an invitation as a member of the royal family) and the two Russians. However, that night, things had been a little rocky with Francesca, and apparently Anastasia had noticed.
Dmitry had died of a heart attack a few weeks before the ceremony, she told him as he escorted her to his home (he had a guest room and she had no place to sleep). He had done a lot for Athens, despite being disliked by pretty much everyone except the two Antonios, and that didn't exactly help him much. Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to have been pretty well liked, probably because of her beauty. So, that night, he went to sleep with her under his roof, unguarded, and he would come to realize how much of a mistake that was.
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OOC: Sorry for those hoping for an epic war in which the Blue Lion would decidedly trounce the forces of the Roman Empire. I tried to at least make a decent battle scene though, but I probably failed, I'm much more of a politic writer.
OOC: Sorry this update is kinda late, I've been busy. Won't be an update tomorrow, I have Music Performance Assessment (MPA) to go to after school and that'll probably take the rest of the day when I combine it with homework.
------
Cold. Then night was freezing, bitterly cold. Francesco I and his two illegitimate half-brothers, Antonio and Domenic, each sat atop a horse as black as night. The wind zipped past them as they watched the fires of their soldier's camps below. Ever since the council had unanimously voted to go to war with the Byzantine Empire, Francesco had been forced to ride with his soldiers to at least maintain a semblance of popularity. The fact that his seemingly magical ability to always lose was driving his popularity down even more was certainly aggravating. "Rouse the men. The time for battle is now." About fifty miles southwest from Attica, the Byzantines had made a small army camp, preparing to strike at Athens itself. The total numbers there probably only managed to make 5000, while the Athenian army was 7000 strong. Despite his bad luck, Francesco was sure he could win.
Five hours later, the army was marching, and now the Byzantine camp was in sight. The night had become morning, and the first light from the sun was now shining on a battlefield soon to be stained by the blood of soldiers. "Lord in Heaven, forgive me for those whose souls I take on this night, and those of mine who I have led into their death. Let you be with them in the heavens above," prayed Francesco in an undertone, far away enough from anyone to be heard. "Form the line!" he shouted out, and picked up his horn. The Byzantine army was assembling itself, but it wouldn't be fast enough if Francesco could help it. He sounded the horn five times, and the soldiers spread out about three or four men deep and twenty men wide per infantry column, and they began advancing down the hill. "Aera! Aera!" cried the soldiers. They swept down like the wind, just like they cried. Though Francesco barely understood a word of Greek, he knew what they were shouting, "Wind, Wind!". Suddenly, it seemed the time had passed in a second. He was behind an infantry column, riding back and forth to each to shout words of encouragement.
He yelled orders in Italian, so that the Byzantines would not understand. That had been his plan, because each citizen was supposed to learn both languages. However, ever since Greek had been adopted as the official language, Italian and Latin both had been abandoned. He didn't know this though, and his soldiers didn't understand what he was saying. Still, the tide of war seemed to be turning his way regardless, and from the looks of it, the Byzantines were beginning to retreat. But suddenly, five distinct horns blew, a few seconds apart. One from the east, one from the west, one from the south, one from behind the Byzantines to the north, and one to the southeast. Looking around for what caused it, Francesco was dismayed to see the Hungarian banner, and the sound of horses. Hungarian cavalry.. how had he forgotten? The Byzantines were allied with the Hungarians, and quickly, the infamous horsemen were upon them. They smashed into the infantry columns, and Francesco pulled back. His men were dropping like flies. It would be stupid, and irresponsible, to let all of them and himself die. He rose the white flag of surrender, and was forced to negotiate on how to end the war. In the end, it was decided that Athens would cede Cyprus to Byzantium, an island it hadn't had much control over regardless.
A year later, the tragedy of the war had been forgotten. Theodoros was ridiculed, but he had maintained the alliance with Castile, and Athens prestige with the world was more or less the same, despite losing a few battles and ceding an island (which it had never legally gained in the first place). But the Castilians called them again, once more to war with the Byzantines. This time, the Empire was weaker, but it was still dangerous.
In addition, the truce with Byzantium still held. It had been made to last five years, more for the help of Athens than the Romans. Still, it was illegal to breach it no matter which side broke the contrast. The council and Francesco were forced to accept, they wouldn't throw away everything they had lost so much for. Hopefully, Athenian independence would remain.
However, good news had reached Athens. The lands normally called Cape Verde, and being renamed Cape Salamis, it was now controlled by Athens.
A few years later, peace was finally made with the Byzantine Empire, and not too much had been lost. All Athens was forced to do was formally concede that it had lost the war, without giving up much else. Sure, it lost some prestige, but Athens was really at the bottom of the world right now regardless, as much as Theodoros hated to think of it that way.
Knowing that Cyprus would soon be in the hands of the Romans, Theodoros, mainly out of the goodness of his heart, had sent a message to the residence of Dmitry and Anastasia. They were invited to return to Athens for a ceremony (coincidentally, of course, one taking place the day Cyprus would formally change hands) There actually was a ceremony that day, and each Councilor was allowed three guests. Theodoros decided his would be Francesca (not that she needed an invitation as a member of the royal family) and the two Russians. However, that night, things had been a little rocky with Francesca, and apparently Anastasia had noticed.
Dmitry had died of a heart attack a few weeks before the ceremony, she told him as he escorted her to his home (he had a guest room and she had no place to sleep). He had done a lot for Athens, despite being disliked by pretty much everyone except the two Antonios, and that didn't exactly help him much. Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to have been pretty well liked, probably because of her beauty. So, that night, he went to sleep with her under his roof, unguarded, and he would come to realize how much of a mistake that was.
---
OOC: Sorry for those hoping for an epic war in which the Blue Lion would decidedly trounce the forces of the Roman Empire. I tried to at least make a decent battle scene though, but I probably failed, I'm much more of a politic writer.