Genghis Khan was succeeded by his third, and favourite, son Ögedei Khan in 1229. Ögedei realized that to maintain control over his father’s huge empire, further conquests were needed. For a while, he considered attack Baghdad, but then had a better idea. Baghdad might be large and rich, but there was another city, even further west, that was still larger and richer: Constantinople.
Soon after his accession, therefore, Ögedei sent an army west. There can be little doubt that this army was vast in size, numbering perhaps as many as 200,000 soldiers. Frantic embassies from Emperor George I were dismissed, the Khan would not be dissuaded. In the spring of 1230, the great expedition set out.
There was originally some debate amongst the Mongols as to which route to take, but it the end Ögedei, a manknown for his ability to sway doubters in any debate in which he was involved, persuaded his generals and advisers to march south, through the Caucasus. The Mongol horsemen thundered west. By now seriously alarmed, back in Constantinople, George sent word to the King of Georgia, under King George IV. The Emperor’s namesake and close friend immediately prepared for war. A significant Georgian force set out to meet the Mongols, at the soon to be infamous battlefield of Gandza.
There, on September 14th, the Georgian army was annihilated. Their troops, largely heavy infantry, had drawn up on a plain on what had begun as a warm morning. By midday however, with heat searing down on their thick armour, the Georgians began to wilt. The Mongols begin the assault. Led by Ögedei’s talented young nephew Batu Khan, the disciplined and terrifying Mongol horse archers began to loose volley after volley of death at the Georgians. An attempt by the Georgian’s own horse archers to drive their enemies off ended in disaster; the Mongols were true steppe warriors, not a motley group of mercenaries. Growing desperate now, George IV himself led his crack heavy cavalry at a charge straight into the Mongolian lines. Despite inflicting some casualties, the King was captured by the hardened Mongol troops. Only then did the Mongols close for the kill. More and more arrows hummed into the Georgian ranks. Soldiers began to break and run, only to be ridden down and butchered by the terrifying eastern warriors. By evening, the defeat was complete. The entire military might of the Kingdom of Georgia had been wiped out in the space of a few hours.
The King was brought before the Khan on hands and knees. Ögedei commented that the Georgian ruler had fought well and nobly on the battlefield, and it would be a terrible shame for such a brave warrior to be ransomed home like a coward. With these words, the last King of Georgia was executed.
News of the defeat carried fast to Tbilisi, the capital. Soon, the Mongolians were at the gates. Ögedei offered the inhabitants a simple choice, abandon their city, or lose their lives. The terrified, demoralised citizens chose the latter option, and the Mongols rode in. Within a few days, Tbilisi had been demolished, its gold and jewels looted, its houses burned.
The capital of Georgia was indeed a rich prize, but for the ever hungry Ögedei, it was but a mere appetizer compared to his ultimate title, the capital of the Roman Empire. Ignoring the freezing conditions of winter in the Caucasus, the Mongolians swept westward. Trebizond and Sinop both cowered before the oncoming storm, but were ignored. There could be no more distractions now, Constantinople must fall.
By December, Ögedei had arrived at the Hellespont. He urgently needed to cross the narrow stretch of water, and so descended on the cities of the area, Pergamum, Smyrna, and Nicaea, demanding ship builders. All winter, the coasts of Anatolia rang to the sound of the Great Khan’s engineers, building a vast fleet of ships to transport thousands upon thousands of horsemen across the Hellespont.
In Constantinople, George I had received the news of the Mongol advance with horror. But where other emperors might have panicked, the Italian stood firm. The great land walls of the capital were restored, and legions were recalled from across the Balkans to defend the Queen of Cities. But it was in the Golden Horn that the Emperor made his most important preparations. If the Great Khan wanted a war by sea, then the Emperor of the Romans would deliver him one.
Back at Abydos, Ögedei’s base on the Hellespont, preparations were nearly complete. In an astonishingly short space of time, a vast armada of boats had been raised. Ögedei decided to make an impression on the watching Romans. The boats were to be lashed together to make a bridge, which the Mongol horsemen would walk over. The Khan had already heard tales of Xerxes doing this nearly two millennia before, a great king from the east descending on the Greeks. Perhaps he did not bother to hear what happened to the Persian in the end. Either way, by Easter, his bridge was complete. A magnificent bridge of boats, strapped together, spanned the mile across the Hellespont. The Great Khan was the first to cross, urinating on the far side, the first Mongol to enter Europe. Then he returned. The crossing would be made the next morning.
He did not notice the small ship that desperately fled north up the Marmara to Constantinople. Exactly how the message was re-laid in time is unknown. But that evening, on the 16th April 1231, the trap was ready.
The next morning, the great Mongolian army began to cross. The horses were nervous at the rather unsteady bridge, so progress was slow, as their riders comforted and encouraged their steeds. Suddenly, ships began to appear on either side of the bridge. The Khan, expecting this, ordered warships to engage the Romans, which they did. The unfortunate sailors, drafted from as far away as China, could have had little idea what would happen next.
From a Roman warship, a dazzling orange flame began to appear. A viscous, boiling hot liquid was pumped out of nozzles at the front of the warships, engulfing the terrified Mongols. Many threw themselves into the sea, only to be boiled alive by the flames, which burned even on the surface of the water. In a short time, the Mongol defenders had been overcome. The Romans closed on the bridge.
Terror began to break out as the first blasts of Greek fire impacted upon the soldiers crossing. The horses, desperate to escape this horrific death, began to stampede. Coupled with the burning boats, the bridge began to break up. More and more Mongols and their horses leapt into the sea, trying to swim to safety, but the Romans were relentless. More and more Greek fire was pumped out, annihilating the survivors. Missiles flew, sinking the warriors, while small boats of locals scurried around the great galleys, impaling Mongol survivors. The defeat of the Great Khan was total and humiliating.
Ögedei had remained on the far shore, watching all this. As soon as the bridge had begun to collapse, he had ordered all men to retreat. Desperately, the Khan fled across Anatolia, but as his horsemen entered a ravine in the Taurus, they were finally cornered. Trapped and exhausted in enemy territory, the Mongols were massacred to a man. Once again the Roman Empire had emerged triumphant against the odds.
Yet the Mongol menace was far from over. The Battle of Abydos might well have been a disaster for the steppe warriors, but their greatest general, Ögedei’s nephew Batu Khan, had survived. He, and around two thousand others, had already successfully crossed the Hellespont when the Romans attacked. Desperately, the Mongolian fled north, defeating a small Roman force that had been sent to intercept him. Legend has it he and his warriors personally swam across the Danube, either way, by the end of 1231, Batu and the “two thousand” had arrived back at the Mongol capital, Karakorum.
Batu immediately asserted his authority. Yes, there had been a defeat in the west, but it was on Asia that the stability of the young empire depended. Accordingly, Batu made no further moves on the Romans, diverting his forces to completing the conquest of China.
Meanwhile, in Constantinople, the populace was stunned. Never before had such a great force invaded, caused such panic, and then retreated again so suddenly. Some ascribed it to the Virgin Mary, but for the more practical minded it was clear that there was only one true saviour, the Emperor George.
Seldom before had a Roman Emperor experienced such unbridled love from his subjects, but in truth, by the end of 1232, George was fading fast. To this day, the disease that afflicted him is unknown, but it is presumed to have been cancer. More worryingly for the empire, he had no son to succeed him, only a daughter, Theodora. Young Theodora had inherited all of her grandmother Irene’s dominating personality in full, and her father realised the danger of allowing her too much political power in the state. Therefore, he betrothed her to one Isaac Bringas, the grandson of George’s by now long dead ally David Bringas, and a talented young general. This done, the Emperor formally retired from the throne, crowning Isaac Bringas Emperor of the Romans. He died around the age of fifty in 1234 back home in Genoa, with his beloved wife Zoe Komnena at his side. Fortunately for the Romans, their saviour from the West had left the Empire in capable hands. For the first time since Justinian and Theodora, an Emperor and Empress would share equal power over the Empire; and the results would be no less spectacular.
Please would someone be able to do a map of the world at the accession of Emperor Isaac II in this TL for me? It would be greatly appreciated!