Feel free to PM me with any questions. Happy to help in any way, Alexios Komnenos is my favourite ERE emperor, well, him and Basil II.
Orient Yourself Correctly: A Komnenian Tale
- Thread starter Kosta
- Start date
Feel free to PM me with any questions. Happy to help in any way, Alexios Komnenos is my favourite ERE emperor, well, him and Basil II.
Kosta
Banned
Thank you. I'll be emailing you shortly.
Wow, four more views to the 10,000th. I better get working on that next update!
Kosta
Banned
And without further adieu, I present to you all...
What can I say? I'm a man of my word
.
Several minutes after the last students poured into the lecture hall, the doors swung open again. The lecturer had walked in, a tall man with brown hair who appeared to be in his forties. He wore the clothes of an archaeologist in the field, and he didn’t seem to care. As he made his way down the steps to the front of the lecture hall, the students all stared, hoping to get a glimpse of the infamous tattoos on each of his knuckles, allegedly said to each be half of a spell written in Classical Mandaic. He plopped his satchel unceremoniously onto the desk in the centre of the room, and made his way to the chalkboard, picking up a new piece of chalk. He was Carlo, Conti di Häberl, heir to the countship of Catepania. He never used his title and he preferred to sign his documents simply as Carlo di Häberl; the life of a professor was all he really needed. This was his beginner’s class on Middle Eastern history, and today they would be discussing the Seljuk State under Malik Shah, third Sultan of the Great Seljuk Dynasty.
“Right,” he said, coolly, “today, everyone, we’ll be discussing the Seljuk State under the reign of Malik Shah, the third Sultan of the Dynasty. Can anyone tell me anything about him before we begin? I’d like to get a feel of how much is known about him so that I can move you through the era accordingly.”
Several students raised their hands high, eager to prove themselves to their new professor. The professor picked one student to answer, you took it upon himself to stand up in order to speak. The professor gave him a quizzical look.
“Malik Shah only reigned for 11 years, from the assassination of his father, Alp Arslan in 1072 to his own mysterious assassination in 1083. He was influential in the early years of the Empire and was one of the last Sunni Sultans of the Empire. After his assassination, the Empire was plunged into a succession crisis which kicked off a civil war in the Seljuk Empire, called the Fifth Fitna.” The student sat down, seemingly rather impressed by himself.
“Very good—if a bit too broad,” the professor said. The student immediately showed signs of a deflated ego. “Perhaps it might be better if we begin first with Roman-Seljuk relations in the 1080s, after the succession of Alexios Komnenos to the throne during the conversion of the great General ibn-Kutalmish to Christianity,” he continued. At this point the professor began to write down vocabulary words on the board in order in order to not confuse his students.
“First we have T-u-t-u-s-h—Tutush I, the cousin of Suleimanos and Emir of Damascus, loyal to the Seljuk Sultan in Isfahan. He's followed by his sons Radwan (the older) and Duqaq (the younger), both his junior lieutenants.” He scrawled their three names quickly and continued on.
“This side represented the Sultan, and Tutush acted as the arbiter of his will in the frontier, although he certainly had a great deal of free reign, as evidenced by his grandiose reconstruction of Damascus and development of Syria and the Upper Euphrates River Valley which all were executed unfettered. Tutush had many men at his disposal, but the news of Tutush switching sides came at such a surprise to the Seljuks that Tutush and the loyalist Seljuks had little time to prepare themselves for war. Suleiman and Alexios themselves also had little time to prepare, and determining who would join the cause was extremely difficult. Although it is said that three-fourths of Suleiman’s men stayed loyal, but that still leaves the rate of deserting the army at one-fourth, each soldier with insider knowledge that would be very valuable for their former leader’s cousin. It was said that the General’s own son, Kuluch [1] was shocked when he heard the news a week and a half later, and furiously rode to meet his own father and demand an explanation. It was said to have taken a debate that lasted three days and three nights to convince Kuluch, but eventually he acquiesced to his father’s wishes. He, too would accept baptism and join Rome, but not without the promise of a governorship, and enough gold to swim in, they say. Alexios had assembled whatever army he could, but it was not much: within a week of Suleiman’s acceptance of Alexios’ proposal, word reached Nicea that Roberto di Guiscardo ‘o Sceleratu [2] had invaded Kerkyra and was on his way to Epirus. At the moment, Guiscardo and his son posed more of a threat to the Empire than did the Turks, who were only leaving Damascus at the moment, and Alexios chose to send most of his men west, including some of his new Turkish regulars. He kept his core soldiers and western mercenaries. Ironically enough, it was the force of the Armenians that came to the rescue of Rome. The Duce Filaretos Brahamios and his young Diaphysite [3] protégé, Lieutenant Teodoro d’Edessa. Filaretos was incredibly self-serving and was said to be the complete epitome of greed and selfishness, but for once this played to Rome’s advantage—Filaretos realised on which side his true interests lied. He knew that it was better to be an independent in all but name than whatever fate awaited him under the banner of the Seljuks. He prepared his Armenian and Greek forces for war, but actively kept the Syriac population far from the war-effort; they hated both the Greeks and Armenians and were too likely to side with the Turks.”
“Any questions?” The Professor asked, as he turned to face the class. There were none, so he continued.
“The army of Tutush was just as multiethnic; he had Turks, Persians, Arabs, and even some Christians at his disposal as well. However, one serious problem that Tutush faced that Alexios also faced was coordinating his army and getting them to work together. Several higher-ups within the army were more independent-minded and less-loyal to the Sultan than Tutush, and relations were strained between the Turks, Arabs, and Persians.”
A student at this point raised her hand.
“Why would fellow Muslims be at each others’ throats and not at the throats of a disunited enemy?”
The Professor clapped his hands together. “Ah! I’m glad you asked!”
“Once the Turks came into power and were declared Sultans by the Abassid Caliphate for their instrumental help in protecting the Caliph in Baghdad from attack, they overturned Arab rule in Persia and even reversed the hierarchy: now Turks were at the top with their Persian administrators ruling over Arabs, something the Arab population was not used to. Anyway, ethnic conflict played a small part in the disunity of the Seljuk loyalists; it was mostly the power-plays of the emirs and generals present. There was also an element of certain elements of the army wishing to obliterate their enemies for betraying the faith despite the conversion rate being lower than the defecting rate, and certain elements in the army being less-than-happy about going to war with fellow Seljuks. Would they meet their brother, father, brother-in-law, cousin, or friend on the battlefield?”
“Meanwhile, it can be said that Filaretos and the Armenians were more in an alliance with Rome than subservient to it; they would fight until it no longer benefited them and not a moment later, and there was nothing Alexios could do about it. Filaretos had also turned tail before at the catastrophic Battle of Manzikert, and the Norman mercenaries had also done so and even tried to form an independent state in Galatia less than seven years earlier under the leadership of Roussel de Bailleul. Both armies were in precarious positions, and that made them fight all the more fiercer, like animals backed against the corner. The entire fate of Anatolia rested in this one battle.” He continued.
“When the two sides met on the outskirts of Germanikeia, Tutush’s forces met Alexios and Suleiman’s forces head on, with Filaretos and the Armenians striking the western flank of the Seljuks. Although some Turks on Alexios’ side turned mid-battle, it was the power plays of the individual emirs and generals that cost Tutush the battle. Several contingencies left the battle halfway or refused to enter the fight, and Radwan ibn-Tutush, who was always second to his brother Duqaq, lost control of his forces. After the dust cleared, the rest they say was history. Tutush lost his firstborn Radwan, and rounded up his remaining men, immediately dispatching a courier to Isfahan, to inform Malik Shah I of what happened. Anatolia was lost to the great Sultan, the Sword of Islam. Tutush was not too ashamed of his loss; he went back to Damascus in quite the hurry and was content to continue his monumental building projects there, immediately building a monument to his son in the form of the great mosque dedicated to him within his prized possession, the Great Citadel of Damascus. When Malik Shah heard word of this defeat, he and his illustrious advisor Nizam al-Mulk knew that losing control of Anatolia was a very real possibility, but they did not expect to lose it in such a way. They sent word to Constantinople: in exchange for a hefty sum, they would declare an end to the conflict and the border would be redrawn. Rome could have all of Anatolia west of the shores of Lake Van and as far south as Antioch and Edessa. Alexios, having himself gone to Edessa with Filaretos and Theodoros, heard word within the month. He decided stationed mainly Greek and Armenian border guards closer to the Turks but kept mostly Greek border guards near Edessa to monitor the conniving Armenian general and his liege. He would be dealt with someday, but not that day. Alexios returned home with a great deal of Turks, having accepted into the ranks any prisoner who would join them instead of accepting a martyr’s death, eager to join the battle now against the Normans. However, all was not well. While Suleiman was busy winning the day for Rome, his fellow Turks Tzachas, a common man with no connections to the House of Seljuk was laying siege to Smyrna and the adjoining area, having set himself up there. Alexios would need to hurriedly ride to Smyrna and Ephesos first to save the day before he could relieve his men in the West. It would be this battle would be what Malik Shah was most known for, and it would gain him a great deal of enemies in Isfahan, which will we discuss next time. Class is dismissed!” The students began to pour out of the lecture hall. The Professor made his way to the desk in the centre. He had a few hours until his next lecture—a nap would suit him just fine in between.
[1] Kılıç Arslan I (قِلِج اَرسلان)
[2]That means "Robert de Guiscard the Infamous" in Neapolitan
[3]That is to "Eastern Orthodox" or "Greek Christian," and not Oriental Orthodox or Armenian Christian like the rest of the people of his nation. He was hated for that OTL, and I don't expect much to change here, either.
What can I say? I'm a man of my word
. Vincenzo Calabrese Hall, Barlaamite University of Napule, Repubbreca Catepaniana, September the 21st, 2013
Several minutes after the last students poured into the lecture hall, the doors swung open again. The lecturer had walked in, a tall man with brown hair who appeared to be in his forties. He wore the clothes of an archaeologist in the field, and he didn’t seem to care. As he made his way down the steps to the front of the lecture hall, the students all stared, hoping to get a glimpse of the infamous tattoos on each of his knuckles, allegedly said to each be half of a spell written in Classical Mandaic. He plopped his satchel unceremoniously onto the desk in the centre of the room, and made his way to the chalkboard, picking up a new piece of chalk. He was Carlo, Conti di Häberl, heir to the countship of Catepania. He never used his title and he preferred to sign his documents simply as Carlo di Häberl; the life of a professor was all he really needed. This was his beginner’s class on Middle Eastern history, and today they would be discussing the Seljuk State under Malik Shah, third Sultan of the Great Seljuk Dynasty.
“Right,” he said, coolly, “today, everyone, we’ll be discussing the Seljuk State under the reign of Malik Shah, the third Sultan of the Dynasty. Can anyone tell me anything about him before we begin? I’d like to get a feel of how much is known about him so that I can move you through the era accordingly.”
Several students raised their hands high, eager to prove themselves to their new professor. The professor picked one student to answer, you took it upon himself to stand up in order to speak. The professor gave him a quizzical look.
“Malik Shah only reigned for 11 years, from the assassination of his father, Alp Arslan in 1072 to his own mysterious assassination in 1083. He was influential in the early years of the Empire and was one of the last Sunni Sultans of the Empire. After his assassination, the Empire was plunged into a succession crisis which kicked off a civil war in the Seljuk Empire, called the Fifth Fitna.” The student sat down, seemingly rather impressed by himself.
“Very good—if a bit too broad,” the professor said. The student immediately showed signs of a deflated ego. “Perhaps it might be better if we begin first with Roman-Seljuk relations in the 1080s, after the succession of Alexios Komnenos to the throne during the conversion of the great General ibn-Kutalmish to Christianity,” he continued. At this point the professor began to write down vocabulary words on the board in order in order to not confuse his students.
“First we have T-u-t-u-s-h—Tutush I, the cousin of Suleimanos and Emir of Damascus, loyal to the Seljuk Sultan in Isfahan. He's followed by his sons Radwan (the older) and Duqaq (the younger), both his junior lieutenants.” He scrawled their three names quickly and continued on.
“This side represented the Sultan, and Tutush acted as the arbiter of his will in the frontier, although he certainly had a great deal of free reign, as evidenced by his grandiose reconstruction of Damascus and development of Syria and the Upper Euphrates River Valley which all were executed unfettered. Tutush had many men at his disposal, but the news of Tutush switching sides came at such a surprise to the Seljuks that Tutush and the loyalist Seljuks had little time to prepare themselves for war. Suleiman and Alexios themselves also had little time to prepare, and determining who would join the cause was extremely difficult. Although it is said that three-fourths of Suleiman’s men stayed loyal, but that still leaves the rate of deserting the army at one-fourth, each soldier with insider knowledge that would be very valuable for their former leader’s cousin. It was said that the General’s own son, Kuluch [1] was shocked when he heard the news a week and a half later, and furiously rode to meet his own father and demand an explanation. It was said to have taken a debate that lasted three days and three nights to convince Kuluch, but eventually he acquiesced to his father’s wishes. He, too would accept baptism and join Rome, but not without the promise of a governorship, and enough gold to swim in, they say. Alexios had assembled whatever army he could, but it was not much: within a week of Suleiman’s acceptance of Alexios’ proposal, word reached Nicea that Roberto di Guiscardo ‘o Sceleratu [2] had invaded Kerkyra and was on his way to Epirus. At the moment, Guiscardo and his son posed more of a threat to the Empire than did the Turks, who were only leaving Damascus at the moment, and Alexios chose to send most of his men west, including some of his new Turkish regulars. He kept his core soldiers and western mercenaries. Ironically enough, it was the force of the Armenians that came to the rescue of Rome. The Duce Filaretos Brahamios and his young Diaphysite [3] protégé, Lieutenant Teodoro d’Edessa. Filaretos was incredibly self-serving and was said to be the complete epitome of greed and selfishness, but for once this played to Rome’s advantage—Filaretos realised on which side his true interests lied. He knew that it was better to be an independent in all but name than whatever fate awaited him under the banner of the Seljuks. He prepared his Armenian and Greek forces for war, but actively kept the Syriac population far from the war-effort; they hated both the Greeks and Armenians and were too likely to side with the Turks.”
“Any questions?” The Professor asked, as he turned to face the class. There were none, so he continued.
“The army of Tutush was just as multiethnic; he had Turks, Persians, Arabs, and even some Christians at his disposal as well. However, one serious problem that Tutush faced that Alexios also faced was coordinating his army and getting them to work together. Several higher-ups within the army were more independent-minded and less-loyal to the Sultan than Tutush, and relations were strained between the Turks, Arabs, and Persians.”
A student at this point raised her hand.
“Why would fellow Muslims be at each others’ throats and not at the throats of a disunited enemy?”
The Professor clapped his hands together. “Ah! I’m glad you asked!”
“Once the Turks came into power and were declared Sultans by the Abassid Caliphate for their instrumental help in protecting the Caliph in Baghdad from attack, they overturned Arab rule in Persia and even reversed the hierarchy: now Turks were at the top with their Persian administrators ruling over Arabs, something the Arab population was not used to. Anyway, ethnic conflict played a small part in the disunity of the Seljuk loyalists; it was mostly the power-plays of the emirs and generals present. There was also an element of certain elements of the army wishing to obliterate their enemies for betraying the faith despite the conversion rate being lower than the defecting rate, and certain elements in the army being less-than-happy about going to war with fellow Seljuks. Would they meet their brother, father, brother-in-law, cousin, or friend on the battlefield?”
“Meanwhile, it can be said that Filaretos and the Armenians were more in an alliance with Rome than subservient to it; they would fight until it no longer benefited them and not a moment later, and there was nothing Alexios could do about it. Filaretos had also turned tail before at the catastrophic Battle of Manzikert, and the Norman mercenaries had also done so and even tried to form an independent state in Galatia less than seven years earlier under the leadership of Roussel de Bailleul. Both armies were in precarious positions, and that made them fight all the more fiercer, like animals backed against the corner. The entire fate of Anatolia rested in this one battle.” He continued.
“When the two sides met on the outskirts of Germanikeia, Tutush’s forces met Alexios and Suleiman’s forces head on, with Filaretos and the Armenians striking the western flank of the Seljuks. Although some Turks on Alexios’ side turned mid-battle, it was the power plays of the individual emirs and generals that cost Tutush the battle. Several contingencies left the battle halfway or refused to enter the fight, and Radwan ibn-Tutush, who was always second to his brother Duqaq, lost control of his forces. After the dust cleared, the rest they say was history. Tutush lost his firstborn Radwan, and rounded up his remaining men, immediately dispatching a courier to Isfahan, to inform Malik Shah I of what happened. Anatolia was lost to the great Sultan, the Sword of Islam. Tutush was not too ashamed of his loss; he went back to Damascus in quite the hurry and was content to continue his monumental building projects there, immediately building a monument to his son in the form of the great mosque dedicated to him within his prized possession, the Great Citadel of Damascus. When Malik Shah heard word of this defeat, he and his illustrious advisor Nizam al-Mulk knew that losing control of Anatolia was a very real possibility, but they did not expect to lose it in such a way. They sent word to Constantinople: in exchange for a hefty sum, they would declare an end to the conflict and the border would be redrawn. Rome could have all of Anatolia west of the shores of Lake Van and as far south as Antioch and Edessa. Alexios, having himself gone to Edessa with Filaretos and Theodoros, heard word within the month. He decided stationed mainly Greek and Armenian border guards closer to the Turks but kept mostly Greek border guards near Edessa to monitor the conniving Armenian general and his liege. He would be dealt with someday, but not that day. Alexios returned home with a great deal of Turks, having accepted into the ranks any prisoner who would join them instead of accepting a martyr’s death, eager to join the battle now against the Normans. However, all was not well. While Suleiman was busy winning the day for Rome, his fellow Turks Tzachas, a common man with no connections to the House of Seljuk was laying siege to Smyrna and the adjoining area, having set himself up there. Alexios would need to hurriedly ride to Smyrna and Ephesos first to save the day before he could relieve his men in the West. It would be this battle would be what Malik Shah was most known for, and it would gain him a great deal of enemies in Isfahan, which will we discuss next time. Class is dismissed!” The students began to pour out of the lecture hall. The Professor made his way to the desk in the centre. He had a few hours until his next lecture—a nap would suit him just fine in between.
__________________________
[1] Kılıç Arslan I (قِلِج اَرسلان)
[2]That means "Robert de Guiscard the Infamous" in Neapolitan
[3]That is to "Eastern Orthodox" or "Greek Christian," and not Oriental Orthodox or Armenian Christian like the rest of the people of his nation. He was hated for that OTL, and I don't expect much to change here, either.
Deleted member 67076
Its back!
Wait a minute....
>Repubbreca Catepaniana
So much for Italian unification...
Wait a minute....
>Repubbreca Catepaniana
So much for Italian unification...
Kosta
Banned
Its back!
Wait a minute....
>Repubbreca Catepaniana
Does this mean Italy isn't unified ITTL?
Thanks, at least someone noticed. I'm beginning to fear that all my old fans have forgotten about me, and I have to begin again at Square One. Dear me.
Maybe
.Kosta
Banned
It's got to get worse before it gets better, old boy! Don't weep for the Seljuk Empire, at least not yet
.
Well, the Romans are going to keep a whopping great chunk of Anatolia for the time being, but from the sounds of it, it's going to be a pain in the ass for Alexios to clean house in the Empire.
Also, I think the lecture was quite a neat format for an update. I may have to steal it from you some time.
Also, I think the lecture was quite a neat format for an update. I may have to steal it from you some time.
Kosta
Banned
Great stuff! Subscribed
Thank you kindly. It's nice to see a fresh face around here and to know I can still attract new readers. I'm glad you like my work so far; I hope I don't disappoint in the future
.It's back and it is great as well!
If Tzachas is laying siege to Smyrna at this point in time, that would mostly likely mean there other Seljuks in Anatolia at this time trying to carve out their Beyliks doesn't it?
Thank you. I felt that it was a bit rushed, but I'm glad I just got it out of the way. I couldn't have done it without such supportive fans such as yourself, and I'm not just saying that!
Yes, exactly. Tzachas/Çaka is just the largest threat and the one that needs to be dealt with first. The other beyliks are not going to be so fully formed, and will be much easier to deal with than Çaka, especially because they can be promised more land. Alexios will not be dealing with Tzachas, though; he'll be rushed east as fast as he can be so that he can deal with the Normans.
Defeat the Turks first, drive Tzachas and his little emirate into the Aegean!
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Kosta
Banned
Çaka Khan: the Black Panther of the Sea (Part I)
Here's a new update, which I feel is too short. I would love to hear feedback on this one.
The sun was rising as it met the insomniac Emperor Alexios, who could barely sleep the night before, or any night since the battle. Word had reached him barely a day after the defeat of Tutush, cousin of his newest general, that the Normans had invaded Kerkyra, with the bogus casus-belli of avenging the slight of his daughter after her engagement to the son of Michael VII Ðoukas was broken off by Botaneiates. However, he had no idea that things in the Empire were going to get much worse until one of his lieutenants walked into his room. Never before had the pressures of rule weighed as heavily upon Alexios as when his lieutenant informed him that a Turk who had taken neither the sides of Rome nor Isfahan had invaded and taken Smyrni, and had sent a message out to his fellow Turks that he planned on creating a Turkish empire, forged from the ruins of Rome. Some Turks had joined him, but most were apprehended by Suleiman’s men; it seemed that at the moment, most of his followers were not more than pirates, but they nevertheless posed a great threat to Roman security, especially in a time of invasion and uncertainty. As such, they needed to stopped. Alexios got up out of his seat.
“Are the governor and Filareto still at breakfast?” He asked his lieutenant.
“Yes, Lord,” he said.
“Then go, tell him that I will be joining him shortly. And prepare a messenger to go to Constantinople. I will have a message written momentarily and I want it sent out immediately. ”
The lieutenant scurried away, towards the barracks. Alexios found a vellum parchment and a sharpened reed with ink and he began to write. More than once he nearly nodded off, but the urgency of the events about to unfold kept his mind alert. He had miles to go before he could sleep, miles to go before he could sleep.
Note in hand, the young emperor wandered out towards the dining hall of the mansion. There he saw the gaunt governor, Sofocles, staring dolefully at his dinner. He was captured alive by the Turks, and was languishing in prison when Roman soldiers rode into Kaisareia to deliver the good news to the people. He had quite a bit of catching up to do, but for now, he couldn’t quite stomach all the decadent food he was being given again. Filaretos Brahamios, on the other hand, made up for Sofocles and then some: the aging and ever-growing Armenian general was feasting upon several eggs with their own tiny mounds of salt when his lord walked into the room. Everyone stood when the Emperor walked in as was the Roman custom, but Filaretos stood only reluctantly—probably because standing was becoming an ever-increasing effort for his weaker, stressed frame. The Governor and the other men saluted, but the Armenian general did not. Alexios made note of this this, yet made no move to correct this blatant act of insubordination. He needed the Armenian—for now. What he also made note of was that his general’s protege, Theodoros, was everything that Filaretos was not; he was soft-spoken, reserved, intelligent, young, and a Diaphysite, unlike his Monophysite [1] mentor. He seemed to be making observations on everything and everyone in the room, based on how his dark eyes flitted this way and that way, never stopping on one object for longer than a second. The way he furrowed his brow betrayed the fact that he was calculating possibilities, preparing to make moves. Alexios saw great potential in this young merárchēs.
When Alexios sat down at the breakfast table, the others took their cue and sat down and resumed eating. Alexios ate little—all he could stomach was some fruit and a cup of water. He ate poorly when the stakes of battle were high and victory looked far away; it was a combination of his nerves and the idea that fasting could spiritually recharge him, which he vastly needed. Filaretos kept stuffing his face: his nerves were at ease. His rule over Edessa was secured now with the Turks in his Roman overlord’s pockets, and he could continue his rule over his people unmolested by the Emperor and unaffected by whatever was happening in the west. The only reason he brought his men this far west was to make sure that the could continue his favour with the ruling sovereign by seeing him off with feigned distress, and making sure he was gone for good, never to return so far east.
“You received the news, my Lord?” The Governor asked, trying to swallow a bit of omelette [2] with little success other than a tiny nibble.
“I have,” the baggy-eyed Emperor said, coolly.
“Well, what shall we do? You cannot continue your quest to save Ipiros until all of Anatolia is secure; it’s not as if this Tzachas will give you safe passage to Constantinople and then on to Greece!” The Governor said, clearly worried. Alexios drained his goblet of spring water.
“I am well aware. Whoever this young upstart is, he must be stopped immediately. He must be destroyed and the will of any dissidents must be annihilated. We need to show our newest subjects that treason is not to be tolerated in their new home. We have a few hundred Frankish [3] horsemen left: combine them with any mercenaries nearby, my men, Filaretos’ Armenians, and whatever men you can spare from the mission in the return to normalcy, that could give up well up to five thousand men, maybe even more.” At this Filaretos spluttered on his hardboiled egg.
“But my Lord, I cannot be expected to spare anymore of my men after having already given so much and needing the survivors to maintain the eastern border!” He said,dramatically. Alexios could smell the stench of his lies all the way from across the table.
“The eastern border is secure for awhile; Edessa will be safe.” Alexios said, gritting his teeth.
“But you cannot expect the Mohammedans to keep their word!” He retorted stubbornly.
“You can expect a Mohammedan to do many things, but break their oaths is not one of them. Whatever men you can spare, I require.”
“I have about thirty men that I can spare,” he said with a mischievous grin, “maybe fifty.”
At this the Emperor’s face turned a shade of red and his eyes flashed, dangerously. “Very well,” he said, rage barely concealed in his voice.
“I can spare 600 men for the cause, my Lord,” the Governor said, eyeing his peer with disgust. “Clearly these Armenians are a selfish lot, without backbones, the lot of them,” the Governor thought to himself.
“Can you spare anymore, Sofocle, perhaps 750, or even 1,000?” The Emperor asked, inquisitively.
“Alas, I do not believe that I can. Once Smyrni is secure, people can return back to Kappadokia, but right now any man I have in the area is needed to keep an eye on the Turks. Even I must admit that they are I do not trust a single one of them until they prove their worth. I also urge you not to send Turkish troops against the Turk Tzachas and his men. Who knows if the blood of kin is thicker than the bond of citizenship.” He said with a tone of sadness in his voice.
“Very well. That is precisely why I will utilise our surviving Latin troops against this rogue, and the Turks against Robert of Guiscard. Any Roman I can get, I will take. We must move quickly, though; with each passing day, Tzachas the Betrayer gets stronger.” Alexios’ words of wisdom were cut short by the raspy, ancient voice of Filaretos.
“Get me some wine, boy,” he asked of one of the servants. He looked at his master, the Governor, who looked at his lord. The Emperor nodded back to him, and he nodded back to the young attendant. He walked away quickly, towards the kitchen.
Moments later, he brought new glasses of gold for the breakfast-goers, giving each man seated a goblet. They were of Anatolian make, displaying scenes of an intense stag hunt, with various animals lining the top silver-rim and its gold foot.
“A toast,” Alexios started, “to the defeat of Tzachas and new beginnings in Anatolia and the Empire!” He said, a smirk erupting from his bearded face. As soon as the first sip hit their gullets, Filaretos’ eyes bulged from his large, balding head. He began to choke and turn a deep shade of purple. He resembled an eggplant as his life was slipping away from him, and he died with a look of utter shock and distress on his fat face. The deed was done. Several soldiers carried away his lifeless body. Alexios showed remorse, but he knew that it needed to be done for the good of the Empire. Theodoros looked relieved.
“And just how many men can you spare precisely, Theodoro?” Alexios asked his new Kouropalátes.
[2] Omelettes were extremely popular in the Roman Empire, and not necessarily only breakfast food.
[3] The Romans did not make a distinction between any group in Western Europe, be they of Romance or Germanic background; the terms "Kelt," "Frank," and "Latin" were synonymous and all meant Western European. For a major example, see The Alexiad.
Here's a new update, which I feel is too short. I would love to hear feedback on this one.
Governor’s Palace, Kaisareia, Kappadokia, 6th July, 1081
The sun was rising as it met the insomniac Emperor Alexios, who could barely sleep the night before, or any night since the battle. Word had reached him barely a day after the defeat of Tutush, cousin of his newest general, that the Normans had invaded Kerkyra, with the bogus casus-belli of avenging the slight of his daughter after her engagement to the son of Michael VII Ðoukas was broken off by Botaneiates. However, he had no idea that things in the Empire were going to get much worse until one of his lieutenants walked into his room. Never before had the pressures of rule weighed as heavily upon Alexios as when his lieutenant informed him that a Turk who had taken neither the sides of Rome nor Isfahan had invaded and taken Smyrni, and had sent a message out to his fellow Turks that he planned on creating a Turkish empire, forged from the ruins of Rome. Some Turks had joined him, but most were apprehended by Suleiman’s men; it seemed that at the moment, most of his followers were not more than pirates, but they nevertheless posed a great threat to Roman security, especially in a time of invasion and uncertainty. As such, they needed to stopped. Alexios got up out of his seat.
“Are the governor and Filareto still at breakfast?” He asked his lieutenant.
“Yes, Lord,” he said.
“Then go, tell him that I will be joining him shortly. And prepare a messenger to go to Constantinople. I will have a message written momentarily and I want it sent out immediately. ”
The lieutenant scurried away, towards the barracks. Alexios found a vellum parchment and a sharpened reed with ink and he began to write. More than once he nearly nodded off, but the urgency of the events about to unfold kept his mind alert. He had miles to go before he could sleep, miles to go before he could sleep.
Note in hand, the young emperor wandered out towards the dining hall of the mansion. There he saw the gaunt governor, Sofocles, staring dolefully at his dinner. He was captured alive by the Turks, and was languishing in prison when Roman soldiers rode into Kaisareia to deliver the good news to the people. He had quite a bit of catching up to do, but for now, he couldn’t quite stomach all the decadent food he was being given again. Filaretos Brahamios, on the other hand, made up for Sofocles and then some: the aging and ever-growing Armenian general was feasting upon several eggs with their own tiny mounds of salt when his lord walked into the room. Everyone stood when the Emperor walked in as was the Roman custom, but Filaretos stood only reluctantly—probably because standing was becoming an ever-increasing effort for his weaker, stressed frame. The Governor and the other men saluted, but the Armenian general did not. Alexios made note of this this, yet made no move to correct this blatant act of insubordination. He needed the Armenian—for now. What he also made note of was that his general’s protege, Theodoros, was everything that Filaretos was not; he was soft-spoken, reserved, intelligent, young, and a Diaphysite, unlike his Monophysite [1] mentor. He seemed to be making observations on everything and everyone in the room, based on how his dark eyes flitted this way and that way, never stopping on one object for longer than a second. The way he furrowed his brow betrayed the fact that he was calculating possibilities, preparing to make moves. Alexios saw great potential in this young merárchēs.
When Alexios sat down at the breakfast table, the others took their cue and sat down and resumed eating. Alexios ate little—all he could stomach was some fruit and a cup of water. He ate poorly when the stakes of battle were high and victory looked far away; it was a combination of his nerves and the idea that fasting could spiritually recharge him, which he vastly needed. Filaretos kept stuffing his face: his nerves were at ease. His rule over Edessa was secured now with the Turks in his Roman overlord’s pockets, and he could continue his rule over his people unmolested by the Emperor and unaffected by whatever was happening in the west. The only reason he brought his men this far west was to make sure that the could continue his favour with the ruling sovereign by seeing him off with feigned distress, and making sure he was gone for good, never to return so far east.
“You received the news, my Lord?” The Governor asked, trying to swallow a bit of omelette [2] with little success other than a tiny nibble.
“I have,” the baggy-eyed Emperor said, coolly.
“Well, what shall we do? You cannot continue your quest to save Ipiros until all of Anatolia is secure; it’s not as if this Tzachas will give you safe passage to Constantinople and then on to Greece!” The Governor said, clearly worried. Alexios drained his goblet of spring water.
“I am well aware. Whoever this young upstart is, he must be stopped immediately. He must be destroyed and the will of any dissidents must be annihilated. We need to show our newest subjects that treason is not to be tolerated in their new home. We have a few hundred Frankish [3] horsemen left: combine them with any mercenaries nearby, my men, Filaretos’ Armenians, and whatever men you can spare from the mission in the return to normalcy, that could give up well up to five thousand men, maybe even more.” At this Filaretos spluttered on his hardboiled egg.
“But my Lord, I cannot be expected to spare anymore of my men after having already given so much and needing the survivors to maintain the eastern border!” He said,dramatically. Alexios could smell the stench of his lies all the way from across the table.
“The eastern border is secure for awhile; Edessa will be safe.” Alexios said, gritting his teeth.
“But you cannot expect the Mohammedans to keep their word!” He retorted stubbornly.
“You can expect a Mohammedan to do many things, but break their oaths is not one of them. Whatever men you can spare, I require.”
“I have about thirty men that I can spare,” he said with a mischievous grin, “maybe fifty.”
At this the Emperor’s face turned a shade of red and his eyes flashed, dangerously. “Very well,” he said, rage barely concealed in his voice.
“I can spare 600 men for the cause, my Lord,” the Governor said, eyeing his peer with disgust. “Clearly these Armenians are a selfish lot, without backbones, the lot of them,” the Governor thought to himself.
“Can you spare anymore, Sofocle, perhaps 750, or even 1,000?” The Emperor asked, inquisitively.
“Alas, I do not believe that I can. Once Smyrni is secure, people can return back to Kappadokia, but right now any man I have in the area is needed to keep an eye on the Turks. Even I must admit that they are I do not trust a single one of them until they prove their worth. I also urge you not to send Turkish troops against the Turk Tzachas and his men. Who knows if the blood of kin is thicker than the bond of citizenship.” He said with a tone of sadness in his voice.
“Very well. That is precisely why I will utilise our surviving Latin troops against this rogue, and the Turks against Robert of Guiscard. Any Roman I can get, I will take. We must move quickly, though; with each passing day, Tzachas the Betrayer gets stronger.” Alexios’ words of wisdom were cut short by the raspy, ancient voice of Filaretos.
“Get me some wine, boy,” he asked of one of the servants. He looked at his master, the Governor, who looked at his lord. The Emperor nodded back to him, and he nodded back to the young attendant. He walked away quickly, towards the kitchen.
Moments later, he brought new glasses of gold for the breakfast-goers, giving each man seated a goblet. They were of Anatolian make, displaying scenes of an intense stag hunt, with various animals lining the top silver-rim and its gold foot.
“A toast,” Alexios started, “to the defeat of Tzachas and new beginnings in Anatolia and the Empire!” He said, a smirk erupting from his bearded face. As soon as the first sip hit their gullets, Filaretos’ eyes bulged from his large, balding head. He began to choke and turn a deep shade of purple. He resembled an eggplant as his life was slipping away from him, and he died with a look of utter shock and distress on his fat face. The deed was done. Several soldiers carried away his lifeless body. Alexios showed remorse, but he knew that it needed to be done for the good of the Empire. Theodoros looked relieved.
“And just how many men can you spare precisely, Theodoro?” Alexios asked his new Kouropalátes.
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[1] I had to purposely make this mistake, as a late 11th Century E. Orthodox Christian would not make the difference between Miaphysites and Monophysites. All members of the Oriental Orthodox Communion are Miaphysitic, not Monophysitic. [2] Omelettes were extremely popular in the Roman Empire, and not necessarily only breakfast food.
[3] The Romans did not make a distinction between any group in Western Europe, be they of Romance or Germanic background; the terms "Kelt," "Frank," and "Latin" were synonymous and all meant Western European. For a major example, see The Alexiad.
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