An Age of Miracles: The Revival of Rhomanion

[Evilprodigy]

i really dont understand the Empires tendency to concentrate weaponry stuff in Macedonia. that's right on the border, cant they relocate them into Anatolia or something?

It being on the border is normally good thing, since it means less transport costs when waging a campaign there.
Although "Macedonia" back then is much different then "Macedonia" now.
I don't know about B444 but the OTL Macedonian Theme was located in West Thrace with a capital at Adrianople, which actually is not on the border at all, having an Agean coast and all.

 

[Basileus444]

Tongera: I'm aiming for Wednesday at the latest. It's a pure narrative post, and those on average take a lot longer to write. I'm debating whether or not to split it into two parts, since what would be Part 1 is done now.

Mathalamus: The Black Death killed a third of the Empire's population, which obviously set back growth a lot. Then there was the Laskarid Civil War of the 1370s, and then the Timurid invasions and the War of the Five Emperors. Without all of those, and with the Ukrainian grain fields supplying foodstuffs, I'd have the Empire at about 21 million, give or take a million (I got that number from the natural increase TTL from 1345-1455, plus the lives lost from the plague). Overall though, because of better sanitation and medicine, the Empire is recovering better from the Black Death than just about everyone else.

As for Macedonian armaments, a lot of that, including everything relating to artillery, was the brainchild of Thomas Laskaris during the War of the Five Emperors. So it got set up in his power base, Europe. With the major port of Thessaloniki nearby, it's also easy to ship the products out to the rest of the Empire. The most secure location in the Empire is either Constantinople (there's no room) or central Anatolia (everything would have to be carried out by land a long ways, which is difficult and expensive).

Evilprodigy: The current Macedonian theme stretches from the Vardar river in the west to just shy of Adrianople in the east. So it's been shifted left from OTL to make room for the Thracian theme.

 

[Tongera]

It being on the border is normally good thing, since it means less transport costs when waging a campaign there.
Although "Macedonia" back then is much different then "Macedonia" now.
I don't know about B444 but the OTL Macedonian Theme was located in West Thrace with a capital at Adrianople, which actually is not on the border at all, having an Agean coast and all.

But what happens if it is captured at the start of the war? Why not put it where it can't be captured so quickly, like in Constantinople? At least then, if the city comes under siege they can continue to use it.

 

[Tongera]

As for Macedonian armaments, a lot of that, including everything relating to artillery, was the brainchild of Thomas Laskaris during the War of the Five Emperors. So it got set up in his power base, Europe. With the major port of Thessaloniki nearby, it's also easy to ship the products out to the rest of the Empire. The most secure location in the Empire is either Constantinople (there's no room) or central Anatolia (everything would have to be carried out by land a long ways, which is difficult and expensive).

Can't they just expand Constantinople to the west a bit? Although the Theodosian Walls present a problem. Maybe outside the Theodosian Walls but build walls around the armanents factory? Not as grand as the Theodosian Walls, though.

 

[Basileus444]

Tongera: It's a case of the Romans being overconfident. The Balkans haven't been seriously threatened since the War of the Five Emperors, so relocating wasn't a high priority.

And I've decided to break the next update into two parts.

The Black Day of Rhomania​

Part 1: Children of God​

Smyrna, April 10, 1455:

“Look out!” Pietro yelled as the Greek cannonball flew over his head. It crashed into the water, the spray lashing out to a height twice that of the galley’s main mast.

Pietro glanced over at his fellow Venetian marine, Ludovico. “You know,” his friend said. “We haven’t actually declared war yet.”

Pietro snorted. “I think, looking at this…” He gestured out at the Great Armada, the largest fleet the Lion of Saint Mark had assembled, mightier even than the host during the Fourth Crusade, one hundred and eighty two ships. “…that the Greeks know we’re not here to sell wine.”

Ludovico nodded, squinting at the city. There, behind the short sea wall, was the great naval base that was their first objective. The armada’s final target was nothing less than the Queen of Cities itself. But first the Aegean had to be rendered incapable of supporting the Greek fleet, and only Smyrna and Thessalonica could maintain that in its entirety.

The second bombard on the tower guarding the approach to the city roared, another great cannonball flying out. This one did not miss. It smashed into the prow of a galley, plowing its way through the length of the entire ship, bursting out the stern and slamming into the sea. The galley listed out of control; those rowers that had not been crushed by the ball itself had been shredded by the pieces of shattered oars sent flying, bouncing around the rowing deck.

A glop of blood landed on Pietro’s face. “What the?” he said, wiping it off. He glanced up the center mast. A body had been flung up by the cannonball’s impact, hurled through the air, and been squarely impaled by the mast.

Pietro scowled. A second later Ludovico laughed as an explosion blossomed on the Greek guard tower. “Ha! Those stupid Greek bastards! Their own gun went and blew up in their faces! Ha!” Pietro smiled, ignoring the drying clots of blood as the lead Venetian galleys stormed the harbor.

* * *​

“We have to go, now,” the guard, Ioannes, hissed.

The Empress Helena shoved another loaf of bread into her knapsack. Andreas could hear her muttering. “The one day that I send most of the guard off-duty…” Fifteen minutes earlier he had been secluded in a quiet grove of the massive palace gardens, listening to his mother play the lyre. And then they had heard the call, the terrible call as the bells of Smyrna’s seven hundred churches and the muezzins’ of her thirty mosques began to scream.

Now Andreas could hear women screaming and men yelling outside, knowing that the Venetians were storming the harbor. His tutor had told him that Smyrna, for all its importance as the Empire’s fifth city, a metropolis of seventy five thousand souls, was guarded by a mere three cannons. He had seen the armada the Republic of Saint Mark had sent, its size turning the sea black with the great host of ships. The port’s guns had been like three slingshots against an elephant.

His sister Zoe, five years older than his age of ten, grabbed his hand. “Come on, Andreas,” she said, tugging. He tripped over the hem of his woolen peasant smock that was dragging on the ground. All of them, the Empress Helena, the Princess Zoe, himself, and the two guards were in disguise, in the hopes that the Venetian soldiers wouldn’t busy themselves chasing a group of servants. Somewhere, Andreas thought, a serving boy was running around in his clothes, which didn’t itch and actually fit.

They stumbled out in the court, just in time to hear a stable boy shriek as a Venetian sword slashed open his belly, his organs spilling onto the ground. Over twenty soldiers were pouring into the west courtyard, which also happened to be where the stables were. One of them pointed as Zoe. “She looks tasty!” he laughed. A dozen split off, charging toward the group.

“Run!” Ioannes yelled, stepping between Andreas and the group, along with the one other guardsman. “Run!” Andreas ran, looking back behind as the two Roman soldiers unfurled their blades and cut down the first pair of Venetian marines to reach them. A moment later they fell as well under the blow of Venetian maces.

Helena, Zoe, and Andreas fled, out into the city, their feet desperately beating down the cobblestone streets as the howls of the soldiery grew ever closer. Here the streets were deserted, the inhabitants already fled or dead. Several of the storefronts had previously been smashed in, bodies hanging over the edge.

As they reached a small plaza, decorated by a small plinth commemorating a local hero who had lost his life fighting Venetians fifty years earlier, Andreas tripped and stumbled. A second later he staggered to his feet, helped by his mother. Too late; the Venetians were upon them.

Two brawny, hairy arms grabbed Andreas, pinning his own arms behind his back as a blast of hot breath, reeking of sweat and grappa, slammed into his left ear. Meanwhile two more soldiers ripped the woolen cloaks off Zoe and Helena. One grabbed Helena’s chin. “Eh, a bit old, but still nice.” Another leered at Zoe. “I was right.” He licked his lips, smacking them together a second later. “Tasty, very tasty.”

As one, the nine soldiers looked at the face of the man holding Andreas. “They’re all yours, boys.” Less than a second later both women were on the ground, their clothes ripped off. A moment later both were invaded simultaneously.

“Mom!” Andreas yelled as his mother screamed, as his skinny arms struggled to get free.

The man tightened his grip, his hot breath blasting Andreas’ neck. He whispered in his ear. “Relax, boy. You’ll get your turn.” He laughed, spittle spraying the side of the prince’s face. He flinched, which only caused the man to laugh again.

A second man stabbed into Helena, howling a moment later and yanking out. She spat something bloody at him. “Why, you goddamn fucking bitch!” He roared. His sword flashed out and swung downward. There was no scream, no cry of pain, only a bloody gurgle as the blade impaled her heart, her unblinking eyes staring out at Andreas. Helena, Empress of the Romans, was dead.

Ignoring the whole affair, a third man entered Zoe. She was no longer screaming; her head was hanging limply on the ground, staring at the corpse of her mother. Tears streamed down her face, but she made no sound as her body jolted to the thrusts of the thing rutting inside her.

An arrow sung past the head of one of the Venetians. Andreas saw a man down one of the streets armed with a hunting bow. He notched another arrow and let fly at the man holding the boy. The man ducked, letting Andreas go in the process. His eyes darted to his sister’s face. ‘Run’, she mouthed, the thing still rutting. ‘Run’. He ran.

He fled down a random side street, his heart pounding in his chest. The Venetians, distracted by the archer, did not pursue. He took a turn, then another, then another. He was lost.

The quarter was deserted. Here the Venetian tide has already smashed through, wrecking shops, homes, even churches. Andreas stopped to stare at one small church, tucked into an alley, the doors ripped out, a dozen bodies strewn inside, including four young women with their clothes ripped off. In the distance he could hear the screams as the storm tore into another district, moving away from the harbor.

“In here.” Andreas whirled around to see a Turkish man, his chin covered by a large black beard, looking out from a door hanging from one hinge. “In here. If the Venetians come back and find you, they’ll kill you.” Or worse, Andreas thought. He went inside.

It was a home, Andreas noting the bookshelf lying on the floor in the corner, a dozen or so books lying around it. In a corner four mats lay on the ground, all pointed to a corner. They were prayer mats; the man was a Muslim. He threw aside another, larger mat, revealing a door to an underground cellar. He opened it, the door creaking. Andreas looked down, seeing a woman’s face illuminated by the flicker of a pair of candles. The man nodded and Andreas crept down the stairway. The man followed, throwing the mat over the door and closing it.

Andreas sat down, flinching from the cold stone. The man picked up one of the candles from the woman and sat down as well, facing Andreas. “What is your name?” he asked.

“I am Prince Andreas Doukas Laskaris Komnenos. Who are you?”

The man smiled. “Royalty, in my home.” He glanced at the women, next to whom two girls, about eight and five, were huddled. “And you said I would never get anywhere in life.” He smiled, the woman shaking his head. “I am Prince Nazim, and these are my wife and daughters.”

Andreas scrunched his face in confusion. “Prince? But you are too old to be a son of Sultan Bayezid.”

Nazim stifled a laugh. “I am not an Osmanli. But I am a prince. We are all princes.” He glanced at his wife. “Or princesses.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Is not God the Emperor of Heaven?” Andreas nodded. “And are we not all children of God?” Andreas opened his mouth, and then he heard the front door of the home crash in.

* * *​

Pietro glared up at Ludovico. “What are we doing here? There’s nothing here.”

“I’m telling you; I saw some people go in here.”

“This is pointless. So what? While we’re here, the Morosini brothers are getting a piece all the best women. What are you doing?”

Ludovico threw aside the largest stretch of cloth on the floor, revealing a door. “Told you there was something here.”

“It’d better be good. I’ve only gotten two women today so far. Do you hear Simone? He’s supposed to be on his thirteenth.”

Ludovico ignored him, throwing open the door and yelling down in his broken Greek. “Come out or burn you! Five…four…three.”

Someone, a man, yelled back in Greek. Pietro didn’t understand, but moments later, one by one, a man, a woman, two girls, and a boy, the last obviously not a member of the family with his much lighter skin and hair, clambered out. The man gestured at Pietro, speaking again. Pietro looked at his friend. “Did you understand that?”

“No.”

“Do you think he’s worth anything?”

“No.”

“Well then.” And his sword swept out from his scabbard.

* * *​

Andreas watched as Nazim tried to talk the Venetians. “Take me if you must, but leave my family alone, please.” The Venetians talked for a second, and then the short one rammed his sword blade into Nazim’s belly. His wife shrieked as the soldier pulled out his bloody blade, Nazim’s body flopping to the floor. A moment later the same blade gestured at the woman, a grin creeping across his face.

Andreas had seen it before, on the faces of the men as they piled on top of his mother and sister. “No,” he whispered, clenching his fists and taking a step forward.

“Saint Theodoros!” Two Roman soldiers burst into the room, the two Venetian marines wheeling around. Too late. One Roman skewered the short one with his javelin, hefting the body in the air and slamming the convulsing body onto the ground. The other swung his blade, not a sword but a giant cleaver, ripping the head off the tall Venetian in a single stroke.

“We have to leave, now,” the one with the javelin barked, pulling his weapon out of the corpse. “We need to get to the university, before more come back.”

The wife was on the ground, holding Nazim’s body, rocking it back and forth as she cried. Gently, Andreas put her hand in hers and tugged. “Milady,” he said, speaking as if he was talking a princess, since he was. “We must go.”

She nodded, sniffing. “Yes, we must.” And she reached over and closed her husband’s eyes. Andreas heard her whisper, her last words to Prince Nazim. “Not all of us are children of God.”

 

[thekingsguard]

The Venetians actions are more fit for animals than more men, in battle or otherwise. May the Roman's in thier vengenace remember that they are merely butchering animals when they treat Venice accordingly.

 

[Dragos Cel Mare]

Venice is so going to get these actrocities repaid tenfold once the Rhomans strike back.

 

[eliphas8]

Well the Venetians will rue this day.

 

[Tongera]

I wonder if the city of Venice will be wiped out to the last person and will be physically destroyed forever?

 

[rldragon]

Ugh. Horrifying.

 

[Dragos Cel Mare]

(Edit: @Tongera) It's the Middle Ages. Atrocities are regularly repaid with more atrocities. That said, Venice has too many cultural treasures looted from the Rhomans in the Fourth Crusade to be physically destroyed. No, the people will merely be subjected to a far worse version of what happened in Smyrna. As for the Doge, he'll probably be castrated, blinded, flayed alive, and then drawn and quartered.

 

[The Sandman]

I wonder if the city of Venice will be wiped out to the last person and will be physically destroyed forever?

Unlikely, it's in too good of a location.

Now, the population sold into slavery and the site repopulated by Roman settlers, I can see. Or conquered by Milan while the entire Venetian military is off fighting elsewhere and unable to defend it.

And Venice seems to forget that this sort of sack is no longer regarded as acceptable behavior, especially of a city that was stormed before it could muster any resistance and indeed before any declaration of war. The 1400s aren't the 1200s. And if the Italian Pope supports this action, he immediately makes any other rulers much warier of his part of the Church. After all, if one state could harness the Church for what amounts to a massive personal vendetta, who's to say someone else couldn't do it and point it at their own enemies.

Oh yes, and the fact that the Prince of Rhomanion can testify that he saw his sister the Princess raped and his mother the Empress raped and murdered in the street by Venetians is going to instantly piss off pretty much every single monarchy in Europe, and possibly a bunch of the republics too. You just don't do that shit to the ruling family of a nation. (Of course, those rulers wouldn't care about what happened to ordinary citizens, beyond a general sense of distaste at an outrage on the scale of Smyrna, but that's pretty much been the case for all of human history.)

 

[Derekc2]

Unlikely, it's in too good of a location.

Now, the population sold into slavery and the site repopulated by Roman settlers, I can see. Or conquered by Milan while the entire Venetian military is off fighting elsewhere and unable to defend it.

And Venice seems to forget that this sort of sack is no longer regarded as acceptable behavior, especially of a city that was stormed before it could muster any resistance and indeed before any declaration of war. The 1400s aren't the 1200s. And if the Italian Pope supports this action, he immediately makes any other rulers much warier of his part of the Church. After all, if one state could harness the Church for what amounts to a massive personal vendetta, who's to say someone else couldn't do it and point it at their own enemies.

Oh yes, and the fact that the Prince of Rhomanion can testify that he saw his sister the Princess raped and his mother the Empress raped and murdered in the street by Venetians is going to instantly piss off pretty much every single monarchy in Europe, and possibly a bunch of the republics too. You just don't do that shit to the ruling family of a nation. (Of course, those rulers wouldn't care about what happened to ordinary citizens, beyond a general sense of distaste at an outrage on the scale of Smyrna, but that's pretty much been the case for all of human history.)

So Venice has just sealed it's own grave.

I think the venitians them selves will be discusted.

Well Venice it (wasn't) nice knowing you.

Same with you "pope" Julian I.

 

[eliphas8]

(Edit: @Tongera) It's the Middle Ages. Atrocities are regularly repaid with more atrocities. That said, Venice has too many cultural treasures looted from the Rhomans in the Fourth Crusade to be physically destroyed. No, the people will merely be subjected to a far worse version of what happened in Smyrna. As for the Doge, he'll probably be castrated, blinded, flayed alive, and then drawn and quartered.

I still like the suggestion given in EU3, I believe it was too "Hang him from the walls of the Palazzo Ducale" which I think works pretty well. They may also drown him given how the Venetian Doge was symbolically "Married" to the sea.

 

[Dragos Cel Mare]

Just as the Rhomans turned Giovanni Loredan into a monster, the Venetians turned Prince Andreas into one. And so the cycle of revenge continues...

 

[Tongera]

I think the Byzantines will want to destroy Venice and they probably will (tempers and emotions probably would flare), after what happened to the royal family at Smyrna, the soldiers will probably destroy due to anger and i can see whoever leads the assault on Venice probably wouldn't care or would order it's destruction himself.

The cultural artifacts that was taken from Constantinople during the 4th Crusade, can be retrieved, then the city destroyed (if that is what the Byzantines do).

 

[bolhabela]

This time the Venetians wont get away whit this. Even some neutral catolic countrys will want a piece from them. The royal families are or in this case where always left unharmed. Dieing on the battlefield was normal but this? When they hear what hapened with the Empress and the princess they will want blood. Plus the Venetians just earned the unending hate of the Emperor, his heir and the rest of his children. I can see Alexeia leading the destrucion of Venite.

 

[eliphas8]

Yeah I agree with everyone else, Venetian soldiers doing stuff like that to the royal family is going to bring hell on them.

 

[Dragos Cel Mare]

I hate to even sound like I'm defending those swine, but perhaps they didn't know it was the Royal Family?

 

[eliphas8]

I hate to even sound like I'm defending those swine, but perhaps they didn't know it was the Royal Family?

Probably wouldnt really matter, although how many other people would be wearing the kinds of clothes the royal family gets away with (I doubt many in Smyrna would be wearing purple for one thing).