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#6001
October 27th, 2012, 06:51 PM
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That battle scene went unexpectedly, but awesomely. So lets see the score:
Three of Andreas' Sons who could possibly inherit are dead: Nikephoros, Leo, and Zeno One is Mentally Challeged: Theodoros One doesn't care: Demetrios One is too young: David One is maybe a threat: Andreas Angelos One is the current Emperor, but is unhealthy: Heraklios One of the threats isn't a son, Nikephoros II. So barring those disinterested or incapable, we have Three top claimants. The actual current Emperor Heraklios, the scheming Nikephoros, and the supposedly loyal Andreas Angelos. What's going to happen? I think the schemer is going to trick Andreas Angelos into doing something stupid, causing a rift between him and the Emperor. Then, while that is happening, Nikephoros is going to have the Emperor killed, blame Andreas Angelos forcing him to rebel. Nikephoros will then somehow manipulate Demetrios into entering the fray somehow, causing a three way war. While this is happening, he will harm Heraklios' children and make it look like Demetrios is behind it somehow. He will claim the throne, but will lose to either Andreas Angelos or Demtrios. Thus ends round two, I guess. 
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#6002
October 27th, 2012, 07:00 PM
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And I can't believe I didn't comment on the battle.
Damn. Andreas Angelos seems determined to prove OTL is a fluke in regards to the family sucking. Of course, he's a Komnenoi by blood if I remember right, but still. if Stephen Ducas is doing no honor to his family name, Andreas is doing great honor to his. And the Emperor . . . Well, he will be missed.
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#6003
October 27th, 2012, 08:21 PM
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Leo's death is a bit convenient, but then the empire needs a lucky break since I've been sabotaging the best successors for Andreas (Nikephoros Sr.-dead, Herakleios-Crohn's).
Andreas as a father: I will agree that Andreas Sr. was a bad father. It's ironic, he was too busy being a father to his subjects and his soldiers to be a father to his sons. One of the reasons he's so beloved by the people is his regular practice of the Circuit, where he would ride around Constantinople allowing anyone with grievances to approach and get an audience. Typically these would last all day, and he would do this at least (oftentimes more) twice a week. He also made regular provincial tours, doing the same thing. And Leo has always been suffering from an inferiority complex. Demetrios was the Kaisar, Zeno the better soldier. Both Herakleios and Zeno got far better wives (Leo's first wife is about as lively as a dead fish, and not much in the looks department). Andreas does bear, in my opinion, a lot of the blame for that. Basically Andreas' priorities were Kristina and the Empire, which didn't leave much for his children. So it's inevitable somebody got shortchanged, in this case Leo. Regarding Demetrios' and Leo's characters, I already had them pretty nailed down when I wrote that rapist-execution scene, so I wrote it specifically to support the development. For once, I wasn't planning a twist. Dalmatia would make a nice addition to the Empire. It'd secure Roman control of the Adriatic and its timber would be a very handy resource for the Roman navy. I'm toying with having a special arrangement between Dalmatia and the Roman Empire like the one between Ragusa and the Ottomans IOTL. Interesting little observation. Andreas first appeared in narrative at the age of four during the War for Asia. However his major appearance was on the Black Day, which is on page 132. So Andreas has been the main character for almost two-thirds of the thread.
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An Age of Miracles: The Revival of Rhomanion The Revival of Rhomaion Up to Part 11, 1502-1516 The Keys of Heaven
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#6005
October 27th, 2012, 08:34 PM
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#6006
October 27th, 2012, 09:08 PM
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Just one more thing about Andreas' kids and to a lesser extent the TL as a whole. I realize that Demetrios was set up to facilitate the ToT by not wanting the throne (lets face it, were Leo, Nikephoros senior, Nikephoros Jr, Herakleios, Zeno, Andreas Jr, or almost anyone else born as Andreas' eldest there wouldn't be a ToT), but is there any historical case of a healthy eldest son giving up his throne in Byzantium or Europe? Off the top of my head I can't think of anyone (though there were some mentally challenged, sickly, or traitorous eldest sons who were removed from succession), and it seems a little odd that Demetrios was actually allowed to refuse the throne. I also noticed that the Maranids split from Al-Andalus by the Hammer willingly giving up his throne, so it got me wondering.
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Check out my TL, the Turtledove winning The House of Palaiologos, Against the Tide : An Eastern Roman TL
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#6007
October 27th, 2012, 11:01 PM
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#6008
October 28th, 2012, 01:09 AM
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A Khan in Constantinople is dead.
An important thing to remember about Demetrios and the Hammer is that they didn't give up the crown to be peasants. They gave up a crown, certainly, but both became governors of wealthy provinces. So it's like a politician declining to become President of the United States, but becoming governor of California. They're still really cozy. Originally Herakleios' character arc was supposed to be Demetrios' as well (minus the Crohn's), but then sometime in the 1480s I decided to split them (up to that point Herakleios was just intended to be a historical footnote). Also given that a lot of the Time of Troubles is going to be caused by ambitious men looking at the Queen of Cities and going "I want it", I felt it'd be interesting to have a character go "no, thanks." Not everyone is an ambitious schemer. Another thing to remember about Demetrios. If he became Emperor, not only would he be Roman Emperor (a very big job), he'd also be trying to fill the shoes of Andreas Komnenos, which is an even bigger job. I can understand someone already not too thrilled about the whole thing balking. "He'll be back,"-Prince Theodoros Komnenos 1517: For ten weeks Andreas holds the dread foe at bay, and it seems that not even death himself can conquer Andreas Komnenos. But eventually even he must yield. The White Palace, Constantinople, March 7, 1517: “Father?” Eudoxia whispered, stroking his hand. “Father?” Andreas Komnenos moaned softly under the pile of blankets covering him, but he did not answer. For Andreas Komnenos dreamed. “Ow!” he yelped, dropping his wooden sword. Andreas looked down on the red spot covering most of his eight-year-old hand where Manuel had whacked it. That would leave a bruise. Manuel of Kyzikos lowered his own practice sword. “I think that’s enough for today.” Andreas was about to nod, but instead he opened his mouth. “No.” He picked up his weapon and pointed it at Manuel. “No,” he commanded. “Continue.” Why this memory? Again there was a blade in Manuel’s hand. But this was not wooden, but steel, and it flashed, it sung. Blood flew as Venetian after Venetian fell from those strikes, but still they kept coming, too many. One got through. He came at him and Zoe, screaming, his sword raised high as a cursing Manuel ripped his weapon out of a ribcage. Then Andreas moved, shoving his dirk into the Venetian’s belly. He stopped, his hot blood flowing, sticking, to Andreas’ trembling hands, the air ripe with the stench of loosened bowels, his fading eyes locking onto Andreas’, his killer’s, face as if it were an anchor holding him to life. Why this memory? Crusader cannonballs screamed down all around him. Wagons shattered, guns burst, and men died. The lethal rain continued, but he remained atop his horse, watching, waiting. A crouching skutatos came to him. “Basileus, please come down. We cannot spare you.” Andreas looked out as another ten bursts of flame leapt out from the crusader lines, and down at the soldier. “There are times when an emperor’s life does not count.” Why this memory? The memories came, sixty years of memories, memories of war. Smyrna, Constantinople, Sicily, Apulia, Venice, Cannae, Rome, Edessa, Mesopotamia, Mount Tabor, Cairo, Bizerte, the Iron Gates. So much war, so much death, so much loss. The faces of the lost floated before him, his mother, his father, Manuel, Alexeia, Kristina, Alfredo, Andronikos, Zoe, Zeno. Again Smyrna. This time there was only one word. Why? He remembered his sister Zoe screaming in the night. He remembered holding her desperately, trying to calm her down, telling her she was safe. And he remembered screaming in the night, and Zoe holding him desperately, trying to calm him down, telling him he was safe. Why? He remembered the courtyard in Smyrna. The look on the man’s eyes as he rutted inside Zoe, the stench of the sergeant’s breath, the blood on his mother’s dress. WHY?!! Andreas Komnenos dreamed. He saw himself reading a book in the library, a boy on the cusp of manhood. It was him, but not. He seemed different somehow, softer. A woman came into the room. She kissed the boy-that-was-not-quite-him on the cheek, took his hand, and led him away. He saw children. Some looked like his own. Some did not. They laughed and played, with the man-that-was-not-quite-him and the unknown woman. He saw the man-that-was-not-quite-him grow old and full of years. This man looked a lot more like him, but Andreas could see the difference between himself and this man. It was the hands; his hands had never held a sword. And then the man-that-was-not-quite-him died, the unknown woman at his side and his children, all of his children, surrounding him. Tears clouded Andreas’ eyes. Why? Why couldn’t that have been me instead? He smelled the answer before he saw it. It was a smell he knew all too well, that of fire. Constantinople was burning. The Queen of Cities was screaming as the flames clawed at her, dancing their macabre dance of death. They lapped around the Aghia Sophia, darting up her walls, rising higher, higher, ever higher, until they towered over the dome itself. NO! The cupola collapsed, a rain of stones falling down as the flames danced ever higher, fanned by the breeze. He could hear words on the breeze. He could not make them out, but he knew the tongues, the tongues of those he had vanquished. They were many, they were vast and diverse, but here they were one. They were cheering. He was in a blacksmith’s forge. The man beat on a red-hot blade, striking it with his hammer over and over. Andreas started. That’s my sword! It was not his famous bastard sword, his wedding gift from Kristina, adorned with gold and jewels. No, this blade was as plain as any sword could be, a common dirk. Andreas had taken it from a slain Roman soldier in Smyrna, on the Black Day. A plain sword, an ordinary sword. He saw a little boy, held in his mother’s arm, sniffling as his father departed for a war. A plain boy, an ordinary boy. Me. The blacksmith kept pounding on the dirk, and it changed. It grew, snaking outward, its contours shifting as the blows fell on it. It was David, his gleaming bastard sword. The blacksmith stopped, looked up at Andreas, and nodded. Andreas did not even have to pick it up; David flew into his hand. He could smell the fires again, so he turned around and raised the sword. The wind was still blowing, and Andreas could hear the tongues on the breeze, still one. They were screaming. “Now you know why.” Andreas spun around. The sword was gone, but he did not need it. The speaker was Nazim of Smyrna. But that was to be expected; they were in his house. Andreas Komnenos remembered. It was a cool, brisk day, near the outskirts of Drama. His eldest sister Anastasia sat atop her horse glaring at him. At her side were Petros and Alexios Palaiologos. The next few minutes could plunge the Empire into civil war. Better that only one should die, rather than thousands. The boy Andreas took the diadem in his small hands and held it out to Anastasia. “Take it,” he said. “It’s yours.” “You gave up the crown,” Nazim said. “Why?” “It was the only way to avoid civil war.” “You were willing to die for the Empire. Instead you were required to live for it. A far more burdensome task, I will admit, but also far more noble.” He looked at Andreas. “You disagree?” “I feel that I could’ve done more, done better.” Nazim nodded. “Yes. You could have. But you could have done far worse.” Constantinople burned. “In the end, you did the best you could. No one can ask for more. But now it is time to rest.” He stood up, opening the door. “Come.” Andreas rose. He felt different somehow, lighter. The pain from his old, worn body was falling off of him like a tattered coat as he walked out. He had been here before, a thousand, ten thousand times. It was the courtyard in Smyrna. The Venetians were raping his mother and sister. He walked, looking at the scene he had seen so many times. He felt different though. There was no anger, no rage, simply sadness, regret. He kept walking, Nazim alongside him. The gate to the garden opened. Andreas paused, uncertain for a second, and looked back. The Venetians were still at it. A cool hand touched his forearm, and Andreas looked to see the warm, kind face of his mother. There were tears in her eyes. “Welcome home, son.” The gate closed behind them, and together they went into the garden, not looking back, never looking back. But it would not have mattered, for there was nothing to see. The courtyard was empty. The demons of Andreas Komnenos were finally at rest. From Empire of Blood and Gold: A History of the Second Komnenid Dynasty Even after death, Andreas I was extraordinary. He was not buried in a grand tomb amongst the Emperors of old, or even in the environs of the White Palace. Instead he was buried, per his orders, in a more run-down district of Constantinople, in a common graveyard. But that graveyard was for those who had died in the siege of Constantinople in 1455-56. So it was with those with whom Andreas had first fought and bled that he chose to rest for all eternity. His mausoleum is still there. He is one of the most contentious Roman Emperors, as can be reflected by the multitude of epithets he possesses. The original was the Little Megas, but he was also known as “the Vanquisher of all Rhomania’s Foes”, “the Scourge of the Latins”, “the Undefeated”, and most popular in his final days, “the Shatterer of Armies”. It is unsurprising that modern historiography has often continued the trend to emphasize Andreas’ military exploits. For the most part, the contemporary terms have remained in use although varying in popularity. However by most historians he is known as Andreas Niketes, Andreas the Conqueror. Of course, when one turns away from Andreas the strategos, the names vary considerably. To the Lotharingian school, he is Andreas the Mad, a barely sane ruler kept only in check by those of his brilliant advisors, of whom pride of place goes to Alexeia Komnena. The Lombard school continues this trend, and it is altogether ironic, considering the actions of his progeny, that it emphasizes the contribution of Alfredo di Lecce. Professor Silvio Berlusconi even goes so far as to credit Strategos Alfredo with planning the Venetian, Cannae, and Egyptian campaigns. In feminist literature, on the other hand, Andreas is known as Andreas the Wise. Some schools of thought in this field view Andreas as a sort of male proto-visionary for the rights of women. That is due to the importance he placed on women in his administration, namely his wife Kristina, his sisters Alexeia and Zoe, and his daughter Eudoxia, and his consistent anti-rape efforts throughout his entire reign. The truth likely contains bits of all the names. No epithet can fully encompass a man, much less a man like Andreas Komnenos. One of his most famous, arguably the most famous, of his exploits is his supposed return from the grave and the Iron Gates campaign. But for all the drama of that act, one thing is clear. Andreas Komnenos failed. It is true that his return derailed the first round of the Time of Troubles. In all, five thousand casualties were inflicted what could have been a far more serious war. And while it ended the threat Leo posed and ensured the Hungarians would never have the strength to intervene later, it did not avert the coming disaster. Even the brief winter campaign crippled Herakleios’ already poor health, to the point that most scholars agree that during his reign, it was Empress Venera who in fact ruled the Empire. But more importantly, neither Leo or the Hungarians were the hidden enemy Andreas had tried to lure into the open by his fake demise. The architects of the Time of Troubles still remained, delayed, but not defeated. But Andreas also did not fail. It is true that the man Andreas by his actions and inactions helped cause the Time of Troubles. But it is equally true that the legend of Andreas would be crucial to seeing the Empire through to the other side. There is one name of Andreas that has remained constant throughout the centuries, immune to the vicissitudes of scholars and historians. It is the name given to him by the Roman people themselves. To them, Andreas was their Emperor, a man who walked among them, fought beside them, bled for them, shared their pain and sorrow. They remembered an Emperor who had offered to give up his crown, his life, to spare them civil war, an Emperor who would charge into battle and sacrifice himself so that their sons might live, an Emperor who would stand in the freezing rain to see that even the lowliest crone could get justice. The Roman people remember that, and so their name for Andreas has remained constant. To this day, they do not call him by name. Instead they simply call him “The Good Emperor.” No greater honor can be given to a sovereign. The White Palace, Constantinople, March 7, 1517: The bells of the White Palace were tolling. Nikephoros looked up for a second, and then returned to his writing. “So ends an age,” he whispered. And begins another. The bells continued, but in Nikephoros’ chambers there were only two sounds. First the scratch of a quill on paper, and the sound of Nikephoros whispering a line of Persian poetry. “The spider weaves the curtains in the palace of the Caesars.” End Part 11: The Lion in Winter Begin Part 12: Empire of Blood and Gold
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An Age of Miracles: The Revival of Rhomanion The Revival of Rhomaion Up to Part 11, 1502-1516 The Keys of Heaven Last edited by Basileus444; October 28th, 2012 at 05:51 AM..
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#6009
October 28th, 2012, 01:40 AM
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And with that note, the saga of Andreas Komnenos ends. Thanks to your writing abilities, your avid fans were perpetually upon the edge of their seats. Just...Berlusconi? Really? 
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#6010
October 28th, 2012, 01:42 AM
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An Age of Miracles: The Revival of Rhomanion The Revival of Rhomaion Up to Part 11, 1502-1516 The Keys of Heaven
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#6011
October 28th, 2012, 01:43 AM
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#6012
October 28th, 2012, 01:49 AM
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Oh man, that death scene. Oh man, that history book scene. Oh man, that Nikephoros scene. Oh man, so many feels. Ironic that in OTL the "Persian poetry" line was spoken when the Empire finally had the last nail in its coffin, but ITTL it's spoken when it's at its most powerful in centuries.
Outside of local European reactions, how much of a figure is Andreas in common history? Like, would kids learn about him in school in Not-America?
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#6013
October 28th, 2012, 01:50 AM
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#6014
October 28th, 2012, 01:54 AM
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"This artist's work is inherently inferior, and shall be eliminated. We have other pieces that shall make far better use of the greater living space!"
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#6015
October 28th, 2012, 01:55 AM
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its this sort of thing that would make Andreas cry.
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#6016
October 28th, 2012, 01:59 AM
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#6017
October 28th, 2012, 02:02 AM
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regrettably, it took me a long time to even find it. but once i did... well, i never regretted my choice of research.
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#6018
October 28th, 2012, 02:13 AM
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I didn't know the Byzantines existed until I played Civilization 4, Beyond the Sword, and that's one hell of a way to find out about such an important country. It was also where I found out the Ottoman Empire exists.
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#6019
October 28th, 2012, 02:43 AM
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#6020
October 28th, 2012, 03:20 AM
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Was I the only one here who learned about the Byzantine Empire in history class? Granted, I read a lot of material to cover the gaps left in the curriculum, but still...
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