LotR - Stories Thread [Archive]

TheFlax

05-30-2008, 22:04

Encounters at the Mavrozomis estate, Part I: The Meddling Princess

I, Anna Komnenos, entered the world on the year 6568 by way of two royal personas, Aleksios and Irene, and unto troubled times. Born and bred in purple, I have been groomed for a life I could only truly understand once I had reach a certain maturity. I was schooled beyond the average paideia and as such, became well versed in rethoric and carried my study of letters and Greek to the highest standards. Neither had I neglected the subjects of science, mathematics and history, the latter becoming my calling in my later years. In supplement, I perused the works of the ancient poets, refusing to heed my parents' concern over knowledge they thought was unbecoming of one such as I, due to my station. I reveal my scholary endeavors, not to brag, but so that you, my reader, may better understand my situation and my life exposed through this work. As previously mentionned, I was expected to fulfill a number of responsabilities and in the words of a philosopher; « education is the best provision for the journey to old age. »

- Memoirs of Anna Komnenos

The streets of Konstantinopolis were bustling with activity under the afternoon sun, nevertheless Anna's progress was not hindered by the rabble. Like a ship cutting through the sea, all made way for her litter and retinue. Hardly paying attention to her surroundings and shroudded by the litter's curtain, she reflected upon her intended destination.

Kosmas Mavrozomis was not someone others would expect her to visit, in fact she had barely heard of the man until recently. Whispered rumors and hearsay had brought him to her attention. Apparently, her brother, Ioannis, was spending a great deal of time with this man and not knowing what her sibling was up to unsettled her. Even if he had been adopted into her family recently, she had no reason to approach such a lowly character. By a lucky coincidence, word had reached her that he had acquiered quite a collection of ancient texts over the years. Anna had also learned, to her surpise, that he openly invited anyone who would like to peruse the words of the Ancients at his estate. Seeing an opportunity, she had beckoned a runner to announce her upcoming arrival to the Mavrozomis estate and had left the Imperial Palace soon after.

Her thoughts drifter to her brother and more importantly about figuring what he was up to. Ioannis' association to this man boggled her mind. At first, she had discounted what she had heard as mere rumors without a hint of veracity and yet what little sources she had outside the Palace had confirmed the information.How irritating he was proving to be! Making her seek scraps of information like some beggar. Then again, if her brother was scheming some plot and she should happen to find out, this trip would profit her very much.

Just as Anna was getting bored, her litted halted. She peered cautiously through the litter's curtain, as if some unseen danger was lurking on the other side. The estate was suprisingly opulent, its architecture mimicking the pinnacle of Greek civilisation. Its garden, well kept and brimming with colors interweaved in a multitute of bright patterns, led to an ornate fountain, behind which laid what she presumed would be the entrance. Anna took in the sight and found herself unimpressed, after growing up in the Imperial Palace, it would take more than the rich garden of an upstart noble to move her.

The litter had now reached the ground and attendants scrurried to Anna's side. Swifty the curtains were fully pushed aside and a hand helped her up. She took only one step before stopping, feeling her entourage ready to follow her. A motion of her hand promptly dissuaded them from following that course of action and she made her way to the fountain, alone. There was not need to invite prying ears to follow her.

Anna was halfway to the fountain when a man, apparently a servant, rushed out to meet her. Her veil hid her amusement at the man's proternations, fear rendering him incapable of blurting out more than a few jumbled words. This was not the greeting she had expected, but she was in a forgiving mood on this day. Wasting no words on the pitiful man, she sidestepped him and continued passed the fountain. The man finally caught up to her as she crossed the estate's threshold, beckoning her to follow him.

Paying little heed to the place's decorum, Anna followed the servant as a silent specter haunting its choice victim.In a short time they reached the gate that seperated her from the answers she sought and in a fit of impatience, she burst through the doors, giving no time to the servant to announce her. Mutely, she gazed at the impressive library her host had assembled and for once, she found herself impressed.

Before a word could be uttered, Anna removed the veil covering her face, revealing her features at last. Her face was a perfect circle, with eyebrows arched as a rainbow. Her well proportioned eyes were not jumping about, nor crossed and sluggish, but they were nimble enough to follow every movement around her, and steady at most times. Her nose pointed straight towards her lips, which were harmonious and the color of roses. Her complexion was pale like wool, but her cheekbones carried the redness of the rose into old age. For this visit she had chosen to wear a brocaded silk tunica with a geometric pattern under the traditional semi-circular mantle edged with gold and gems. Its colors, ranging from a light pink to a pastel of greens and yellows, contrasted sharply with her dark hair, worn at shoulder lenght. Truly, she was without a doubt a model of imperial beauty.

Not letting a hint of emotion course throught her features, Anna patiently waited for Kosmas to make the first move.

flyd

05-30-2008, 22:41

Basileus,

I have investigated the true nature of the recent happenings in Thessalonica as you have ordered. It is true that there was a pirate raid on the city, but its size has been exaggerated in most reports that have reached Constantinople. However, I regret to inform you that the rumors of the death of Comes Angelos Khristophorides are indeed true. The good news is that the city is in good order, and currently under the administration of one Markianos Ampelas, whom I shall recommend you name the next Comes for Thessalonica for reasons that shall be clear by the end of my report. I will now describe the events that occurred, as best as I was able to reconstruct them from witness accounts.

The raid happened on October 16, 1080. A single pirate ship, whose origin I was unable to determine (the descriptions varied) entered the port around two hours after sunrise, disguised as a merchant ship. The pirates, of whom there was most likely between twenty and thirty, left their ship at the docks and advanced a short distance up the street to the market. They left two of their comrades to guard the ship. At the market, they began to seize any merchandise they thought valuable, as well as money. They also seized women, and collected them at one end of the market area along with the loot, guarded by several of the pirates.

A mob of the citizens began to gather, but were ordered to disperse when the Comes arrived with the city militia. They did so, if reluctantly. The Comes attempted to negotiate with the pirates, and they entertained the idea for some time, but eventually, the pirate leader grew angry and attacked the Comes, killing him. A skirmish then erupted between the pirates and the militia, who, I regret to report, were ill-prepared for the encounter and were quickly dispersed. The mob of citizenry again began to gather, and as they were rather numerous, the pirates grew nervous, and decided to take the loot they had already and carry it to their ship.

However, upon arriving back at the dock, they found that their two ship-guarding comrades had been slain, and that a Greek had unmoored their ship, which had floated away some distance into the harbor. This Greek was the previously mentioned Markianos Ampelas. He was on their ship, swinging with an axe, apparently trying to cut a hole below the waterline. Several of the pirates jumped into the water and began to swim towards the ship, while the rest stayed on the shore to guard their loot. One of the pirates was a much faster swimmer than the others, and when he arrived at the ship he was alone. He boarded the ship and fought with Ampelas. The witness accounts differ somewhat at this point, and some seem grossly exaggerated, but it is certain that the pirate was killed and that Ampelas received several cuts to the chest and arms (those I have seen). The second pirate was cut down as he was boarding the ship, and by the time the third pirate had arrived, Ampelas had jumped into the water, and swam away.

However, the pirates did not follow, for their ship had started to take on water. They worked to try to empty the water and repair the damage, but after about a quarter of an hour, the ship began to sink and was abandoned. The pirates now found themselves between the sea and a very angry mob. Witness accounts begin to lack detail at this point, but I did not find one pirate who had been taken prisoner.

Upon recovering from his wounds, this Markianos Ampelas took it upon himself to retrain the city's militia, but was soon given charge of all the administrative tasks by the city leaders. He enjoys wide support in the city, and appointing him as Comes will be the best way to maintain order in the city, the citizens of which are currently not too happy about the inability of the Imperial Navy to protect them from pirates and the incompetence of the previously appointed leadership and its militia.

Your servant,
<signature illegible>

TheFlax

05-31-2008, 06:42

((Written in collaboration with Zim and Deguerra))

Encounters at the Mavrozomis estate, Part II: The Comes scholar

The room was sparsely furnished otherwise, with a plain hardwood floor, strongly worn in one section in the shape of an oval, presumably from the owner’s constant pacing. In the center of the room Anna could see a large table, haphazardly covered with scrolls and books. There were several chairs at the table, with Comes Kosmas in the center one. Kosmas was a man of medium height and nondescript appearance. He was thin but not extraordinarily so, had dark brown hair, brown eyes that were always half-lidded as if he had not slept well, and a complexion just dark enough to hint of ancestry from the days of Alexander’s campaigns when Hellenes ranged far to the east. He had an odd tendency to drum his fingers on tables and desks, which habit he was currently indulging himself in, and almost always seemed to smile halfway, without showing his teeth. It was one of these smiles he showed to the Princess as he stood up and bowed.

“Princess, forgive me for this mess” Kosmas exclaimed as he hurriedly attempts to clear off a spot on the table. “I was comparing a few copies of a contemporary biography of Epaminondas. There are some discrepancies in more modern biographies of him I wish to...” Kosmas fell silent abruptly. Although her face remained unreadable, he realized the minutia of how mistakes slowly crept into copies of ancient texts was probably not of interest to Anna. He bows again and changes the subject. “Please sit down. I understand I may have a manuscript you have been looking for?” Kosmas drummed his fingers nervously as he awaited a response.

Anna glided to his table, she faltered for an instant as she neared him, her gaze drawn to the scrolls lying haphazardly on it. Regaining her senses, she focused on the Comes and arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "Did you not expect me? Perhaps my runner did not reach you?" She let the last question hang in the air with a hint of an accusation.

Kosmas looked up languidly at the Princess, his expression surprisingly impassive. The tapping of his fingers against the table ceased immediately, and he actually seemed calmer than before he was confronted. “I did receive your runner a little while ago, but allowed myself to get distracted by a particularly engrossing section of text. I will not make that mistake again.” Kosmas smiled again.

“Now, how may I help you, Princess?”

Her attention now solely on the multitude of scrolls in front of her, Anna replied calmly. "I was told you might have some commentaries on Aristotle's works, dating from before fifty-sixth century."

Kosmas walks over to one of the bookshelves behind him and starts sifting through scrolls. “I believe I have a few from that century. Was there one in particular you were looking for?”

"Do you have the one by Euphaxis? I've never had the pleasure of reading it, although several scholars have told me it is quite enlightening."

“That is a good one. Let me see…” Kosmas pulls two scrolls from the shelf. “I have two copies. One is contemporary but sadly missing parts, and the other is a more complete copy from later in the same century.”

"I would very much like to compare them." Her tone left little place for denial.

She certainly knows what she wants. Ah well, I can easily part with these manuscripts for now. Kosmas smiles pleasantly, as if he would like nothing better than to lend them both. He walks over to the Princess and hands them to her. "I hope you enjoy them as much as I have. I find them to be one of the best commentaries of Aristotle, specifically the section on The Politics. It's quite unfortunate that not many copies have survived.”

"Rest assured, they are in good hands." She gave him a disarming smile as she reached for the scrolls handed to her. Once they were in her possession, she wheeled around and gently made her way towards the exit. Yet, after a few steps she seemed to have reconsidered, as she turned to face the Comes once more. Seeming to have forgotten something, Anna addressed him in her most innocent voice.

"There was also something else. I was wondering... Does my brother keeps your company out of literary interest?"

Before Kosmas could open his mouth, a quiet but icy voice out of the shadow of a bookcase to their right answered: "And you, Anna, are you truly here to learn more of Aristotle? From what I hear, your knowledge of the old texts is nigh unrivalled in the city."

Ignoramus

05-31-2008, 10:01

Nicaea, April, 1081

The streets of the city were crowded, as the populace digested the news from the capital. Everywhere the arms of the Komneni and Dukai families were displayed, as the news spread that once again there was a Komneni on the throne.

A few half-hearted riots had been speedily dealt with, and the corpses had already been carried away.

The city had only recently been retaken for the third time from the Seljuks of Rum. The marks of war were evident throughout the city, which had suffered badly from successive sieges.

Ioannis Komnenos, now Caesar of the Romans, was just leaving the Church of the Dormition, which was being repaired, after its desecration at the hands of the Turks.

As he mounted and rode back towards the imperial palace, he turned to the captain of the escort.

"Justin, you have served me well these past 5 years. Caesar is not ungrateful. You shall command the garrison of Nicaea. Let us march!"

Northnovas

05-31-2008, 14:48

Corinth 1080

There was plenty of activity in the settlement has the coaches prepared for the long trip to the capital.
Aleksios ek Ikoniou was a young man now in charge of his family holdings. He was becoming a budding bureaucrat reorganizing the defences and planning the growth of the settlement. He was preparing to leave for Constantinople and participate in his first official Senate of the Imperial government. Politics was not his forte he was not looking forward to the long debates and the senators jockeying for position to peddle their influence and favours.

No he was no politician he was a fighter. His family had long been military men fighting for the Crown. He was to continue on with the tradition defending the Emperor and building a military organization with in the Empire that will consist of men and elite units. He admired the Hellenic traditions and the Spartans of old. He will continue with the traditions knowing that a loyal and aspiring commander needs to be rewarded and what better way then to offer the lands that are conquered. A man will fight for his life to defend what he rightly owns.

Yes it was time to go. Aleksios will head to the capital declare his fealty to the Emperor and then recruit men and begin his campaign to expand the Empire to right wrongs and free peoples being repressed by pretend Empires.
"We will be back in Italy someday and beyond" he thought smiling at the possibilities.

The Governor and his entourage were ready for Constantinople.

TheFlax

05-31-2008, 15:03

((Written in collaboration with Zim, Deguerra and Elite Ferret.))

Encounters at the Mavrozomis estate, Part III: Kalameteros' Anger

Ioannis Kalameteros had been listening in the shadow of the bookcase for a while, fighting a losing battle against the anger welling up in him. As he stepped into the light, Anna noticed that the small voice belied a rather tall, if not very large man. He was not ugly, not quite, but his muscular arms seemed out of place on a much scrawnier body, lines crossed an otherwise youthful face, twisted in a sarcastic smile that never touched his icy grey eyes.

"No, Princess," he spat the title "your brother was not here for literature, and neither are you."

He rounded on Kosmas, and his face grew softer, though his voice did not lose its sting.

"I told you the royal family would mean trouble!"

He struggled not to spit the words out, struggled to keep control of his temper. He lowered his voice:

"We agreed, Kosmas! Meeting with even one member of the royal family can draw attention, not to mention the Caesar! And now this...,"

He gulped, swallowing the biting insult. He mustn't lose his temper.

"Now she is here as well, and you damn well know she is not here for Aristotle!"

Anger quickly marring her feature, Anna struggled to remain composed. She ignored the man barking at her and concentrated her attention on Kosmas. "I bid you to restrain your lackey Comes, before I take note of his insults to my family." She emphasized the last word, without a doubt alluding to the Basileus specifically.

Kosmas raised an eyebrow at Ioannis’ outburst but did not divert his gaze from Anna. “Forgive me, Princess. My friend has concerns about dealing directly with the Imperial family. He means no harm by his statements.”

Anna's features shifted back to a pale complexion as she pursed her rose colored lip in disapproval. "No harm? Very well Comes, for you I will not press the matter, unless your "friend" insists on indulging us with more of his fine comments." If Anna might have seemed flustered a moment ago, she had now fully regained her composure.

"I fail to see how it is of your concern. Also, proper manners would imply introducing yourself before interrogating your betters."

Rage builds up on Ioannis' face again, but he controls it somewhat better this time. In an icy quiet voice he replies "It is of my concern, Princess, because the politics of the royal court have too often gotten people killed, and while the life of my friends here and mine may not mean much to such exalted personas as yourself, you will excuse me for being quite fond of it!" By the end he was hissing noticeably again.

"I am Ioannis Kalameteros, Princess" he spoke the title as an insult, "and you have still to answer my question."

Anna's calm demeanor wavered, as a hint of surprise could be caught in her eyes. Clearly she had not expected such an answer.

Sensing things might get out of hand, Kosmas steps between Anna and Ioannis, briefly throwing a rather exasperated look towards his friend before turning towards the Princess, smiling. “As you can see, Princess, my friend has personal reasons to be wary. His loyalty and devotion to the interests of his friends is to be much commended enough to forgive the occasional lack of certain diplomatic niceties. To answer the question you had put before me prior to this sudden conflict, your brother and I have spoken personally while I was on campaign with his father. Apparently he saw something admirable enough to ring me into the Imperial family. That is the extent of our dealings as of now. Is there any other way I may be of service to you?”

Disappointment crept in her voice. "I suppose not. Although I still don’t understand why a simple question elicited such a strong reaction, unless...." Deliberately, she left the two men guess at was she was hinting.

Pointedly ignoring Anna, Ioannis turned to Kosmas. This time the warmth on his face was real. "If you do not mind, I will leave you to deal with her. But think on what I said, my friend." Turning around he gives the somewhat startled Anna a deep bow, and leaves the room.

Kosmas bows again to Anna. "I thank you for your visit, Princess, and hope that you will brighten my doorstep again soon." Almost as if on signal, a servant appears at the door of the library to escort Anna back outside.

"Very well then." Rearranging her veil to cover her features once more, she turned to follow the servant while keeping the borrowed scrolls firmly in her grasp.

Throughout the meeting a figure had stood guard behind Kosmas' right shoulder. At first he appeared as if a statue as he was silhouetted against the window and was still as stone. However a small light shined on his face so that his eyes could just be made out and they did not leave the face of Anna until it was not possible to see it. The man was in love with someone he could never have.

Following the princess' departure, Hypatios Machonios finally made himself heard in a low quiet voice which cut through the silence.

"You need to control your tongue Ioannis."

The Lemongate

05-31-2008, 19:00

((Written in collaboration with TheFlax.))

Encounters at the Mavrozomis estate, Part IV: Always expect trouble

Shouldering his kontarion lance, the kavalieroi threw his horse full speed towards the motley group of men holding spears and wooden shields a hundred paces in front of him. The spearmen first huddled together in a semblance of formation, but as the fully armored cataphract bore onto their position, their will wavered and finally failed them completely. Not losing sight of his target, the armored horseman curbed his course, catching up with the first runner. The kontarion tore the man’s side, spilling guts and sending him thrashing in the dirt while another man tripped and had his brains splattered by the charging horse. Pushing his charge to its limits, the kavalieroi managed to impale another spearman before having to discard his lance in favor of his paramerion sword.

A few bloody moments later and the courtyard was strewn with cut up remains and pools of oozing viscera.

Dismounting, he curtly addressed as servant that had been standing on the side: “Next time get more slaves. Or get them horses. These easy exercise are a waste of time,” he glances around, “and quite messy.”

Anastasios Neokaisareitis had been training in the Campus Martius when a messenger had arrived to indicate he would be received at the Mavrozomis Estate. His training methods were thought by many to be the most gruesome spectacle to be had in Konstantinopolis: he squared off against armed slaves, much like the gladiators of old, and ruthlessly massacred them. He thought of it as an entertaining way to test his ability to support the heat and the weight of his armor while keeping in touch with his sword skill.

“At last!” he thought after having reviewed the letter from the messenger. He had tried to meet with Comes Mavrozomis for some time now had always met with delays, but now the Count invited him to meet in his office. Maybe siding with that bookish aristocrat wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

He still wore his suit of armor, but he didn’t want to give Mavrozomis time to change his mind. He draped a flowing burgundy cape on his shoulders and summoned another horse. As he rushed out of the courtyard, he heard the messenger yelling something at him about the Komnenoi, but he was already to far to hear.

The busy streets of Konstantinopolis were always the scene of a formidable diversity of people and one could expect to be surprised by sights and smells wherever one went, but the appearance of a fully armored kavalieroi making its way at lightning speed through the richer neighborhoods was still a sight most were unaccustomed to. Reigning in his steed as he approached the Mavrozomis Estate, Anastasios gave a quick look to the décor. Brightly colored flowers bordered the way to an elegant fountain, a few gardeners were finishing their morning tasks.

“The man has taste,” he muttered, “let’s just hope he can apply as much care to war as to his gardens.”

Anastasios took off his helmet revealing fair, Mediterranean features. His family hailed from southern Italy, displaced when he was just a kid by the invading Normans. His dark brown hair descended in thick locks just above shoulder-length and he was clean shaven, unlike most of his contemporaries. His green eyes were quite alert for one so young, alight with intelligence, ambition and, at times, with something more sinister.

He walked meaningfully towards the entrance of the estate, not waiting for a servant to escort him.

---------------------

Anna stormed through the winding hallways of the estate, Kosmas' servant in tow. Ignoring the man, she was busy fidgeting nervously with her veil, obviously somewhat agitated. Her mind playing back her recent meeting, she almost did not hear the heavily armored man approach. Nevertheless, once he rounded the corner, he was difficult to miss. Taken aback, Anna halted her progress in an instant, addressing the man. "Expecting trouble?" Her tone was a mix of curiosity and irritation.

Anastasios’ rapid pace came to a sudden halt as he rounded a corner. Another step and he would have crashed into the woman coming from the opposite direction. A quick glance immediately indicated she was of high birth and Anastasios bowed his head in apology.

“I always expect trouble, my lady, even more so in this city, but alas I do not return from any glorious battlefield, only training in the Field of Mars, ” indicating his armor, “My apologies if I startled you, my eagerness sometimes has the better of me. I am Anastasios Neokaisareitis, from Bari.”

Raising his gaze, he gave young noblewoman an inquisitive look, but refrained from directly asking any question.

"You do well do expect trouble, one never knows from where it could come." A warm smile could be seen through her veil. "Tell me Anastasios, are you here to meet with the Comes?"

“Indeed I am, my lady. My family’s estates were looted by the Normans, now I seek aid in returning them the favor. ”

A dark grin crept in Anastasios’ features as he mentioned the Normans. It was over in an instant, but the slightly unsettling feeling it left lasted a few moments more.

“I hear Comes Mavrozomis is more of a scholar then a warrior. If that be the case, he can probably spare some of his men in favor of those who can put them to profit. The Empire needs more men of action and less politicking aristocrats.”

The man's unsettling reply left Anna at a loss for words for a few moments. "You don't approve of the state of things, do you?" Her tone was genuinely curious.

“There is little to approve of the present situation. In the past fifty years, we Romans have lost over half of what still comprised the empire. Anatolia is gone. Italy is gone. Dalmatia is gone. And what little authority the Basileos still held over Venice, Napoli and Hungary has disappeared. All the while, men sit in their decadent mansions in the greatest city in Christendom and ponder on what witty retort they will say in the next Senate session or which classic to quote to best impress the Basileos. Knowledge of the past has but one purpose: to better prepare oneself as you write the pages of the future! It is truly a dark time when warrior has to grovel before a bureaucrat in order to wash the dishonor of his nation. But whatever it takes, I care not for their honors!”

Realizing he had let his temper get the better of him, Anastasios bowed his head again.

“I am sorry, my lady. I have let my anger get the better of me, courtesy of the Normans who took away my parents when I was but a child, unable to defend them. The biased opinions from a simple Stratos on the state of the Empire must not be very interesting to a lady’s ears.”

"Do not apologise." Her voice was compassionate, even soothing. "You have endured great loss and have reason to be frustrated. Most men of power in the Empire know little of such a pain and care for little more than themselves. I am glad to have met one who has not lost the Roman spirit that has made us so great. In time your fortunes will change Anastasios, I will remind my father of our people in west who are now overrun by barbarians. Your plea will not fall on deft ears."

“The pleasure is mine, my lady. You have my sincerest thanks.”

Suddenly realizing he was barring her route, Anastasios backed up to the side of the wall to let her pass. As she lithely stepped down the hallway, the house servant that had been discretely listening to them sprinted to follow her, only to find a mailed hand clasping his shoulder:

“You annoy her.” The tone was cold, a total shift from the earlier voice. “Bring me to Comes Mavrozomis.”

As he followed the servant down the corridor, Anastasios could not help but wonder: Who was she?

TheFlax

06-01-2008, 07:01

((Written in collaboration with PrivateerKev.))

What can a Princess and a Crusader have in common?

Whenever I gaze back through the passage of time and upon the evening that bore me witness to the man known as Makedonios Ksanthopoulos, I can only wonder at the nature of men. From what fabric are weaved noble men? Often have I heard claims of titles, land, coin or bloodline; yet are all these things truly the core essence of nobility? Titles come and go swiftly as the shifting tides and as such are but a chlamys wrapping a man in a pretension of nobility. Only once removed can the truth of a person be revealed, at least in part. While land and coin may be more lasting, in the words of Sophocles; « Wisdom outweighs any wealth. » and that would be true of many more qualities. There remains bloodline, which is a crucial part of nobility but not the defining attribute. I cannot fully ascertain all that makes a man noble, crafting such a list would ultimatly prove illusive for any but the wisest. All that I can be certain of; men are not born noble, it is through their defining actions they reach true nobility.

- Memoirs of Anna Komnenos

The sun was setting on the Queen of all cities as a lone figure in simple robes of quality textiles made her way out of the palace grounds. Were she not a woman, she would have been largely unnoticed, yet most people assumed her to be of low nobility and thus she seemed only a minor anomaly in a city filled with them. Tugging at her lightly embroidered veil to adjust it, she contemplated the irony of situation. She, Anna Komnenos, daughter of the most powerful man in the world, had less freedom then her confidante, from whom she had borrowed these clothes to avoid the countless attendants.

As Anna neared the Hippodrome, she realized she felt odd sensation. Her reason told her this was unwise at best and she would have usually agreed, but something pushed her on. She could hardly describe the exact feeling, it was a mix of trepidation and excitement. She shook her head in denial, drawing a few curious stares, before she regained her countenance. She needed a clear mind if she wanted this encounter to turn out less sour than the previous one.

At last the Hippodrome was in view and Anna set out at once to the appointed entrance. Since Anna would surely stand out in the diminishing crowd, she made no effort to seek out Makedonios Ksanthopoulos, preferring to wait instead for him to find her.

And despite her lower key clothing, she was easy to find. As he was walking through the market sipping his tea, he spied someone looking a tad out of place by the entrance. Best to move in fast before people noticed her.

As Makedonios got nearer to the Princess, her beauty radiated out from even the dull clothes she currently had on. The soldier's heart skipped a beat but Makedonios's quickly settled it down. He had helped Bryennios hold the left wing at Manzikert against waves of Turkish attackers but he suddenly found himself more frightened than on that fateful day.

With a quick prayer to the Lord for strength, Makedonios walked quickly towards the Princess and called out just loudly enough for anyone witnessing to hear, "Maria! How is one of the Senate's most capable clerks doing? It is getting late and I would be honored to escort you home."

Makedonios offered the crook of his arm to the Princess as he set his tea set down on one of the lamp posts.

Anna was a bit slow in reacting at her "name" being called. Nevertheless, she quickly took the arm offered to her once she realized the man was probably the Comes of Cyprus.

"Thank you...my... lord." The words came out awkwardly and they felt odd as she uttered them. Glancing about, she was visibly nervous as she was escorted down the street. Part of her silently wondered if this man had mistaken her identity or if some grim fate would await her.

Makedonios noticed her tense her grip on his arm and quickly attempted to calm her down. "It is a beautiful night but the ones in Cyprus are nicer." Feeling her relax a little when he mentioned something from their letters, Makedonios continued. "I apologize for the theater but I'm afraid you cut it a little close with the timing. A lady looking as you do alone in front of the Hippodrome looks suspicious so I had to think fast. Please forgive my forwardness in offering my arm."

Even in the setting sun, Anna could notice the Comes was blushing.

"You did well Comes. I am... not used to hiding my identity." Her voice was quivering, it could have been a simple fear of discovery or was it something else? In all of her twenty springs, she had never held a man so closely, save her father and brother. She was thankful the rouge on her cheeks and her veil almost hid her blushing.

Pushing these thoughts away, she cleared her mind and struggled to keep her conflicting emotions in check.

"Quickly, we should move out from the streets. To the gardens, maybe?"

Makedonios nodded in agreement and led the Princess down the street. His experience with women was sorely deficient. He was a soldier. And his devotion to the Lord made him avoid some of the more leisurely activities that soldiers across the world use to occupy their free time. It was good that they weren't talking or the Princess might notice his voice quiver.

They finally arrived at their destination. Which was a back entrance to a small garden on the Palace grounds. A guard recognized the Princess and let them through the entryway that was entwined with vines and roses.

Once they arrived at the fountain in the center of the garden, Makedonios unhooked his arm from the Princess. He suddenly found that he missed the sensation. Thinking a quick prayer, and pushing the sensation out of his mind, it was time to get down to business.

"Alright your Highness, I've received your letter. Forgive me for being blunt but what would you like to discuss?"

Leaving his side, Anna followed the rim of the fountain, letting a finger trail in the cool water, until she was on the opposite side of it. She gazed at Makedonios and smiled sheepishly.

"In your letter, you asked for my counsel. With the senate session nearing, I thought it was better not to waste time. But first, tell me Comes, what do you want?"

The Comes stood for a second sizing her up. He was impressed with her forwardness and honesty. He expected her to be more guarded and aloof.

"Your right, but it was you who wanted to meet in person. What I want is simple. I want to get the Order off of my island, and over to the Levant as soon as possible. But I already sense political dealings happening behind the scenes and I am afraid a group of warrior/monks isolated on a far island are going to get left out."

"I don't ask for much. I already have army units and generals on the island. And half of the Byzantine fleet is just off of the coast of Cyprus. But our Empire's rules are very clear. I can not order the ships to move, load my men onto to them, and sail them the short distance to where they need to go. Only the Megas can do that and this term that is your father."

"I'm trying to prevent the Order being stranded by making political alliances with the other land-owners. But I much rather do this with your father's blessing. I have great respect for the man and I believe he will lead the Empire into a new age."

With a smile that brightened his features, Makedonios added, "Now I have prattled on long enough. If I may be so bold to ask, what do you want your Highness?"

Anna hesitated for an instant, not sure exactly what she should reveal. Well versed in negotiation, she knew she had to at least give him something.

"As I am sure you know, my brother is set to inherit the title of Basileus and in the meanwhile I am relegated to a very minor role. All I can do is to make sure my family is safe while both, father and brother, are away waging war. As you have said, many alliances are made and some of them do not have my family's interest's at heart, quite the contrary. Yet, I have little power myself. What I want, what I need, is someone with integrity. Someone, who will not bend for me or anyone else. You said you could offer me friendship and that is what I want, for I place little faith in pawns and sycophants."

Makedonios nodded in understanding.

"It seemed like you could use the advice of someone who isn't fawning for your's, or your father's approval. I believe I could provide that. And I can use friends in the Senate so I can fulfill my duties to the Lord and to my Order."

"I too have the Empire's interests at heart. My mission to secure the Holy Land has many reasons. The obvious is religious in nature. But there is a very real security reason. It seems everyone in this part of the world seeks to hold the Holy Lands. If we do not get there first, we are likely to find a large and powerful foreign foe to our south-east that would threaten any attempt to retake Anatolia."

"I will not ask you to trust that I have your family's interests at heart. But I hope I have proven that what I am trying to do will benefit the entire Empire. I was at the battle of Manzikert and I know full well what happens when an Empire doesn't secure their borders."

With that last sentence, Makedonios gets a far-away look as if he has been reliving the same nightmare every night. He quickly composes himself.

"As for integrity, you should be suspicious of anyone who claims it for themselves. All I hope I have convinced you of, is that I hold strong convictions. I believe with all my heart that the Order will serve a useful function to the Empire by holding a strategic position. I just need the chance to prove it."

"Again I fear I am monopolizing this conversation. I feel like I'm giving a practice speech before speaking before the Senate tomorrow. But that is in itself useful because it helps me put my thoughts in order. Please feel free to step in and give me your thoughts or ask me any questions."

Completing her walk around the fountain, Anna found herself once more near Makedonios. She simply nodded at his words.

"You are right, and with you in the East, I find myself fearing less for our safety from that direction. Yet, I am worried for the west. The latin barbarians rape and pillage our lands while we are forced to watch, unable to act."

Brushing back her veil lightly, she produced one of her most charming smiles. Her eyes glimmered in the fading light.

"I would ask of you a simple favor. There might soon be talk of sending some troops to reclaim some of our lands in the West. A young man, by the name of Anastasios Neokaisareitis, will no doubt make his wish to lead this expedition known publicly. His needs are few, less than a hundred men, and I would be very grateful if you supported him."

While Makedonios's features brightened as the Princess neared, his face turned to a grimace when he heard Anastasios's name.

"Your Highness, soldiers have many ways of doing things. But some men do things in a way that is against the very teachings of the Lord. And Anastasios is one of those men. His reputation for cruelty is well known. I'm surprised you have even spoken with such a man."

While Makedonios tries to make it clear through his tone that he meant it as Anastasios being unworthy of a conversation with Anna, a touch of jealousy leaked through. He decided to continue and hope the Princess didn't notice.

"As for my support, he probably doesn't know it, but he already has it. While he has not formally sworn to House of Asteri, he is known to spend much time there. And Comes Kosmas and I already have... an understanding. While he keeps company with some... colorful characters, the Comes is a very pious man. Him and I agree on the need to move Muslims away from the Empire and to spread Orthodoxy."

Anna adopted a more serious and thoughtful pose, seemingly taken aback by Makedonios' words.

"I... did not know about his reputation. I might have erred in my judgment, although at short term, he seemed like the right person to see to our needs in the West."

She seemed distraught, her voice shakier sentence by sentence.

"It seems it is I who is "left out" so to say, there are so many new faces in the Senate, I hardly know any of them. And now, it is apparent I cannot even trust my own senses. I fear in seeking my counsel you have struck a losing bargain."

Makedonios's features soften when he sees the Princess upset but he stays where he is. His emotions are conflicted and he doubts she needs any more complications in her life at the moment.

"Well, you have to start somewhere. I hardly know any of these men either. You write letters and see where it takes you. That is how we met. Your a born diplomat. You were trained to read people. Trust in that."

"As to your judgment, I see nothing wrong. The larger issue you speak of is absolutely correct. We can not focus on one end of the Empire, only to ignore the other side. That is why I have tried to be modest in my requests of the Basileus. Anastasios might be the right choice to protect the west. With him in Kosmas's House, he might be forced to... curb some of his excesses. While Kosmas does not have a reputation for chivalry, he does seem like a pragmatist."

"I see... I have met with Comes Mavrozomis, although with inconclusive results."

She looked at the now dark sky, realizing that she had perhaps tarried to long.

"I...." Anna stuttered, seemingly examining possibilities, before shaking her head lightly. "I must take my leave, if I do not return to the palace soon my absence might be noticed. I will take your words into consideration Makedonios and once I have found myself once more, I will speak to you again. Farewell."

Rearranging her veil, Anna turned to leave but lingered for a few moments, before finally leaving.

Makedonios paused for a moment. But it was only a moment. He gave a respectful bow and said, "Have a good evening your Highness and thank you for the conversation. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

With that, he kept his face impassive but his eyes betrayed him when they appeared to sparkle with emotion. Perhaps it was just the moonlight. He stood straight, turned smartly as a soldier does, and walked out of the garden.

AussieGiant

06-01-2008, 17:11

Present Day:

Standing on the prow of the ship, the young man's piercing blue eye's and blond hair stood out in stark contrast to his deeply tanned skin. If it wasn’t for his fair hair and eye’s, his skin colour and dress would have marked him as a Saracen to a casual observer. His head scarf or Keffiyeh and dark flowing robes hid the red jerkin of armour he wore under his the Arab clothing.

“Christian Hardy, the men are read for the day’s final prayer.” The words were spoken in fluent Arabic.

Turning his head back towards the main deck he could see the preparations for the Salat were nearly done. “I’ll be there in a few minutes Nasir, and remember, my name is Apionnas Vringas now.” His own words were as fluent as those of his Syrian friend. He smiled at his companion, noticing the concern etched on his friends face.

“Plus, I want to see Constantinople before I pray Nasir. Allah will not mind the small delay I’m sure.” Nasir raised an eyebrow in response but turned without a word and went back to the main deck.

Christian Hardy, the young man thought long and hard on that name, images immediately flashed back to that fateful day forever burnt into his memory over 10 years ago.

The ship he and his family were travelling on was attacked by a Saracen war galley, his mother captured and raped before his eyes, his father cut down by the sword stroke of an Arab commander. He would never forget that moment, the images of his parents were the only things that gave him the strength to survive the last ten years of his life as a slave.

The boat journey had taken one full year to reach Cairo where he was sold to the Mamluks and joined the Sultans Mansuriyya regiment. At the age of six he began the decade long training regime in order to become one of the slave soldiers of the regiment. Looking back he suddenly realised the concept that had resulted in turning him into what he was today.

The younger they were taken, the better. Boys were easier to train than a broken man wrenched from his family after a siege or raid. They were impressionable, quicker at submitting to the strict military regime and to full conversion to Islam, easier to mould into steel.

That steel had been shattered not less than one month earlier. The Mansuriyya regiment, sent north to begin preparations for the coming war between Egypt and the Turkish presence in Syria, had been ambushed and destroyed in less than one afternoon. Four thousand troops killed or captured, his Amir slain, the commanders beheaded as a message to the approaching Sultan.

They had retreated bravely and finally, pushed up against the coast, the remaining soldiers had escaped by swimming to a nearby island. With no food the few remaining survivors had lived off the land and had eventually gathered at a small town on the island to discuss their plans.

After heated debate about the merits of returning to Cairo, most had agreed that the regiment was disgraced and each would make his own way.

With no commanders, no direction and no way back to his previous life, his only option seemed to be the pull of finding his fathers Byzantine family somewhere in Constantinople. He had names, but would he find them after an entire life of separation?

This desperate search was why he and a few men where now on a ship less than one day from Constantinople.

Cecil XIX

06-01-2008, 20:10

Naksou City, 1081 A.D.

When dawn came to the city, it found Armatos ek Naksou standing on the pier.

News of his invitation to the Royal Court had come as a great surprise to him, not that it should have. After all, his old man must have had a way with people if he was able to become governor of the island in the first place. Still, it had taken him longer than he would have liked to get his affairs in order. He didn’t want to have to return here for any reason until he was good and ready.

Oh sure, Naksou wasn’t the most boring island in the Cyclades; it certainly wasn’t as bad as Iou or Parou, but by the word of the Lord it was not cosmopolitan. Armatos had been to Constantinople when he was a kid and there was no comparison, here the only entertainment was gambling and reading, neither of which were very interesting to him. The most fun he ever had here were the occasional pirates and other outlaws.

He smiled as he remembered the grain riots that had sprung up just a year ago. A great mess that was, with some former gladiator or whatnot inspiring rebellion in the streets. Armatos knew this about the guy because one day, after a particularly boring lesson about city administration he decided to work of some energy by finding the guy and challenging him to single combat. A hasty decision in retrospect, seeing as how the first words out of the guys mouth were about how Armatos would make a good hostage. Turned out the guy was pretty decent with a sword too, almost taking Armato’s jaw off and leaving a scar that still hadn’t quite healed. Perhaps it was all that talk of ‘rebellion’ and ‘regicide’ and the ‘blood’ coming out of Armatos’s ‘head’, but whoever that gladiator was he had breathed his last. It was a good thing Armatos had all that adrenaline pumping through his veins, or he may not have been able to high-tail it out of their fast enough after he was done.

And if the scar wasn’t bad enough, it didn’t take long for his old man to hear the rumors about how the first-born son of the island’s ruling noble stopped a rebellion-in-the-making via single combat. It may have put all the malcontents in a tizzy long enough for the next shipment of grain to arrive, but that didn’t stop his father from smacking him around and locking him in his room for a week. Armatos was going to write the whole experience off as a big mistake, until he received a letter from some guy named Makedonios.

Armatos had never heard of the guy before, but he liked what he was offering. Although Armatos had never seen a battle worthy of the name before, he had read lots of books about the glorious history of the Romans and the Greeks, particularly their military histories. In his boredom he had always imagined himself as one of the heroes in those stories, someone whose strength, wisdom and courage had made lives of his subjects all the better. What’s more, the man spoke about a mission for the Lord. Armatos knew he could never get a better deal than helping to establish good, Christian government over the Holy Places.

And know, his time was at hand. Soon the Dromon would arrive to take him to Constantinople, and after the Diet Session his new life with the Order of St. John would truly begin.

Kagemusha

06-01-2008, 21:40

Kantakouzinos residence.

"Naksos!"

Ioannis shouted to his old and loyal servant.

"Is the book here?!Did you get it?"

Naksos placed something veiled in a green cloth in front of his master, while Ioannis hesitantly removed the cloth and looked at the leather covered book. Illias and Odysseia by Homeros. Ioannis opened the book while his eyes admired the style of writing and the craftmanship of the scribe and book maker who had made this beautiful copy of the Classic. Slowly he raised his eyes from the book and pointed his glance to Naksos saying.

"You know what to do. Get this book in the residence of Princess, without her knowing where it came from, bribe if needed but get it there inside this beatifull cloth, like the book would have just dropped from heaven.

"But, Sire. It cost you fortunes.You cant just drop it into the residense of princess, without she even knowing where it came. Its far too valuable."

Naksos tried to convince Ioannis, but in vain, with bit sharper tone the Kantakouzinos continued.

"You old goat!Just get it there! There is nothing that money can buy which we can use to get the attention of the princess. Our only way is to get her attention with something unexpected. Remember the signature for the book! From a humble admirer, who does not deserve the attention of the beauty unmatched in Court of Rome, or any other city under the sky."

Naksos mumbled something about foolish young men on his way out, but the old sevant did exactly as his master ordered.

AussieGiant

06-01-2008, 23:19

Constainople 1081:

“You should wear something a little less conspicuous Apionnas”.

The young man like the way the 'p' was kept silent in his name. His own companions where clearly mispronouncing it just as he was. Given it was actually his own name, he found the mistake a simple reflection of how foreign he was in his fathers own land.

“I am who I am uncle. I’ll not change myself to look like others, simply because I’m not.”

His uncle’s face creased in worry at this comment.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to declare to the world who exactly I am, but I simply wont lie to avoid irrational hatred and ignorance”. Apionnas shrugged his shoulders indicating there was no need for any further discussion.

“Yes but it’s a session of the Magnaura and you should wear something appropriate and in accordance with your fathers heritage!”

Apionnas thought of his father, slain all those years ago. What should he wear he thought, the French court cloths of his mother heritage, a traditional garment of his Byzantine father, the regimental uniform of his Mamluk regiment, or perhaps the cloths of a slave. They were all part of him. Finally he decided and with that began to change.

“Uncle, I’ve made my decision and while finding you here in Constantinople after all these years has been truly remarkable I’m more than sure my father would understand. I know your family…our family, has been reduced to virtually nothing and I will go to this Magnaura and listen to what these men have to say. Once I’ve seen for myself what this Empire is about and what it stands for then I will determine my next move.”

With that said the young man left, his uncle could only stare in shock as his nephew depart to into the street outside.

The Lemongate

06-02-2008, 00:16

It was raining lightly on Constantinople that night. A lone figure was hurrying down the streets of the seedier neighborhoods of the lower city, muttering to himself.

It was Anastasios Neokaisareitis.

He had just walked out of the estate of Comes Mavrozomis where things had gone completely to the opposite of what he expected. Of course, he hadn’t thought convincing the Comes to support him would be easy, however, this insult! Being forced to pledge himself to a man he didn’t know… This Zigavinos Vasilakios hadn’t even been present at the meeting!

He was furious with himself.

Those artistocrats had a way of working things that drove him mad, a powerless rage to get anything accomplish, to get any kind of simple, straightforward answer. There was no trusting them. And in return, Anastasios knew, he would probably never receive their trust.

“Well so be it, I don’t need their trust. All I need is a few dozen men of valor and I will mete God’s Justice to the wicked.”

He arrived at his appartment. It wasn’t the most impressive or suitable residence for a noble, but it was far from the gossiping and prying eyes of the richer districts. It was located on the top floor of a six story building. Clean and sparsely decorated, the place had a martial look to it. A map of Italy was streched out on a wall, and besides it, resting on a table, a Bible lay opened.

Having removed his armor and dressed into lighter clothes, Anastasios re-read the page at which the Holy Book was open :

He is God's servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.

“All I need is a few dozen men...”

Anastasios’ thoughts erred. He thought of Italy, of his dead parents, of his interview with the Comes. Suddenly the image of the girl he bumped into before meeting Mavrozomis came back to his mind.

She had acted as a noblewoman, but she was just a lass. Probably around his own age.

“I wonder who she is,” Anastasios thought, “and I wonder who her father is… That could be a very useful connection. I must remember to ask the Comes about her.”

He looked at the map of Italy once more.

“Yes, very useful…”

Romans 13:4

TheFlax

06-02-2008, 02:55

A Letter and a Book.

Imperial Palace, Constantinople, 1081

Anna had just taken her leave after the evening meal and intended of retiring to her quarters for the night. On her way there, she had crossed paths with a messenger, carrying amongst other things a letter for her. She had read it has soon as she had entered her study.

Sitting at her desk, she examined in detail the missive she had received. It had been sealed with a rampant lion seal. The velum was of medium quality and the sealing wax, pitch black. As she perused the words, she blushed slightly. Apparently, her appearance at the Hippodrome earlier had not gone unnoticed. She pondered on her admirer’s words, seeking clues of his identity through what he had written of himself and how he had composed the letter.

It was not that she truly wished to know who it was, but most mysteries usually piqued her intellectual curiosity. It became a puzzle and a challenge. Yet, in the end, she had too few clues to go on. The man was not of noble birth and served her father, but that was the case of many. He had alluded to danger in service of her father; as such he was surely a military man of some sort, unless he had exaggerated. An analysis of his writing style proved even less conclusive. It was obvious the man had a sharp mind, yet hints in the way he constructed his sentences had led her to believe he had only received a minimal formal education. Then again, if he was a military man, that might not be wholly unexpected.

Tired, Anna decided on postponing her efforts. Before heading for her bedroom, she changed her indoor robes of a light pink a blue, in favour of a plain white silk nightdress. Then, after combing her hair and washing her face, mainly to remove the rouge from her cheeks, she moved for her bed.

As soon as she crossed the threshold of her bedroom, Anna froze. There, lying on her bed, was an object wrapped in fine green cloth. Even from a distance, she could tell it was a book, for she spent most of her days with one in her hands. She wondered how it had gotten in her room for an instant, before taking a few light steps towards it. Sneaking up on the book without making a sound, she glanced furtively around, eyeing suspiciously every shadow in her bedroom as a potential offender.

Before long, Anna had silently reached her ample bed and if the book had been a person, it might have been surprised to see the young woman appearing out of nowhere. As it was, nothing happened and the eerie silence began to rake at her nerves. Slowly she reached for the package and immediately after wrapping her hands around it; she jerked her head to the side and scanned the room with her gaze. She was about to remove the green cloth, but flinched when the drapes leading to her balcony rippled lightly.

On the tip of her toes, she moved around the bed and towards the balcony, holding the mysterious package tightly to her chest. She quivered in anticipation of what she was about to discover and halted for instant, thinking she should instead run to the guards. Her hesitation only lasted a heartbeat, before her curiosity took over once more and she resumed her painfully slow progression. Moments later she was inches away from the drapes and decided the time for subtlety was over. In a bold and unladylike move, she burst through the drapes and onto the balcony, eyes wide open and searching for some sign of an intruder.

Relief and a touch of disappointment coursed through Anna when she realised there was nothing out of the ordinary on the balcony. Silently, she chided herself for reacting like she did, thinking herself quite silly. If someone had sneaked into her bedroom, that person was long gone and all she had seen was a trick of the wind. She couldn’t even be sure it was someone from outside the palace who had delivered the package.

Retreating from the balcony, Anna sat on her bed before removing the green cloth from the package. She smiled in satisfaction when she saw it was, as expected, a book and an exquisite one at that. Her fingers glided softy on the leather cover and for a time she lost herself in the sensation, before finally opening the cover. Inside, she found a message awaiting her.

From a humble admirer, who does not deserve the attention of the beauty unmatched in Court of Rome, or any other city under the sky.

Her eyes went wide upon reading the words. Was this another admirer, or perhaps the same man who had sent the letter she had received earlier? After a careful reflection, she decided the two were unrelated. This was another mystery she would have to solve, but not tonight. Tonight she would lie on her bed and enjoy this gift.

Turning a page, Anna smiled at the title as she read it out loud. “Illias and Odysseia, by Homeros”. Whoever had procured her this book had good taste. Even if this particular work was well known to her, she carefully read each page, taking time to admire the impeccable calligraphy she could never hope to match. Only when the candles in her bedroom were spent, did she drift away in peaceful slumber.

Privateerkev

06-02-2008, 03:53

1081:

Makedonios was taking a break from the Senate proceedings. The Emperor had not yet arrived and everyone was basically just sitting there staring at each other. So he had retired to his chambers behind the Order's section in the Senate. His room was spartan. A small bed was in one corner. A pad to pray on in another. A chest held his wardrobe. He was sitting on his bed reading the latest pile of letters when one of them made him laugh. It seemed the political games were starting already. No matter, he wouldn't let the petty jealousies of other nobles distract him from his Holy mission.

He finally put the letters down and laid in bed. It was the first time he had laid down in a couple days. He was exhausted. The past few days was a whirlwind of letter writing and politicking. Plus Makedonios had another reason to keep busy. For when he was busy, he wasn't thinking of "her". Well, at least not too much. Ever since last night, she kept invading his thoughts. As he laid there, he wondered if she was thinking of him too. He shook his head. Bah, she is probably being courted by half of the men in the Senate. She has other things on her mind. Makenodios tried to get to sleep.

Kagemusha

06-02-2008, 07:54

Kantakouzinos residence,the next morning.

Ioannis Kantakouzinos was having a simple breakfast. Bread, oil, olives, an apple and water to flush everything down. While the maids served this simple nourishment to their master, Naksos waited patiently in the corner of the room.

Once the maids were gone, Ioannis drank slowly the last few drops of water from a silver cup, without turning his eyes to Naksos he said:

"Were you successful? Does the princess now posses the book?"

Naksos took few steps forward towards his master and said with a happy smile on his face.

"Yes, the book is delivered. The boy who carried it into her chamber said that he was almost captured by the princess, but managed to escape through the balcony before he got caught. My lord, can i ask why did you want to give her the Illias?"

Ioannis shrugged to himself and replied with a little smile.

"I know that the princess is educated beyond belief and there hardly is an classic which she has not read. It is about the story. It is about how love and determination can bring down cities into dust and that men can do anything for love, even if it would mean death.
See, i have encountered the princess all my life as we are close relatives to the Komnenos and my interest towards her is not just merely to marry her in order to bring influence and prosperity to the Kantakouzinos family. I think i have loved her always.
The fact is that Anna Komnenos is lot more then just her staggering beauty and intelligence. She is a political tool and a weapon, in the arsenal of her father.
You dont court the princess of Bysantine Empire like any lass. If got caught of that could mean a scandal and even disgrace to princess and banishment of the man deemed guilty of that kind of behavior. Sure one can ask of her hand from his father, but that is a thing any sane man of noble birth should do. It is completely different matter what his father wills, so we must be careful, more then careful."

After a brief silence. Ioannis continued.

"Now Naksos, find out if there is any banquet this week, where the princess might attend.Those should be plentiful,since the Basileos is in the city and everyone wants to impress him. It is time to meet the princess in person"

_Tristan_

06-02-2008, 13:38

A night in a Royal garden

(Co-op story by TheFlax and TdC)

It was night. A warm breeze came from the Bosphorus, bringing a thousands scents from the city below the Palace. The man fully dressed in black had gained access to the gardens on which opened the latticed windows of the Princess’ apartments.

His heart was racing madly in his chest, not so much from the exertion of climbing walls and avoiding the patrolling guardsmen but from his proximity to Her.

Hiding in the bushes, his face upturned to the balcony where a feeble candle burned in the room, the man saw the lithe body of a small boy climb the wall, getting grips in between stones. The boy seemed to carry a heavy burden on his back, but apparently, this did not hamper his climb in any manner.

The black-clad man tensed, his hand going out of reflex to the dagger at his belt, his fingers tightening on the hilt.

The boy reached the balcony. The man began to move to follow, loosening the blade from its scabbard. The boy parted the curtains and stepped into the room. The man took some quick steps forward. He was almost out of cover when suddenly the curtains parted anew and the boy reappeared, his burden gone. He vaulted over the balcony’s rail, landed rolling and began to run as soon as he regained his feet. The boy passed a mere two feet from the man not noticing him, while the man took note of the boy’s face, intent on finding him again if anything happened to Her.

Thinking of Her, the man’s gaze returned to the window and he stood transfixed. She was standing on the balcony like a Greek goddess, a Christian Icon bathed in candle light. She peered at every inch of the balcony, seemingly searching for something. For a moment, she was visibly tense, yet once the futility of her search became obvious she visibly relaxed. Turning to face the man, she gazed absently at the night sky. In her arms she was holding the package that the boy had carried with him. The size and shape of the green-clothed packet reminded the man of a book.

That puzzled him. Who would deliver a book in such a way ? Unless it was some forbidden book… No, that was not possible, She would never meddle in these matters…

Before the man could move, She retreated as quickly as she had appeared. The man remained a few more instants. The candle still burnt brightly in the room when he left.

He managed to see Her… That was more than what he had hoped for…

The Lemongate

06-02-2008, 15:54

You people forced my hand. I had to act.

“Velocemente! Velocemente! Don’t you even know how to row?!?!?! RAPIDO!!! Aaah! You bunch of pickled lards wouldn’t even be able to drive a wheelbarrow! It’s a wonder we’ve managed to get to the Bosphorus at all! Mama mia!”

A large man was widely gesticulating at the rowers on the Carico di Lardo, a Genoese galley headed for Constantinople. Large didn’t really do justice to the man’s girth. Huge and ponderous might be more precise, but a few things in life defy description, and the man’s corpulence was among them.

Voluminoso Maiale was exasperated. And when he was exasperated he tended to produce prodigious amounts of sweat. He wiped his brow on the sleeve of his tunic. Even though he was still on the Carico di Lardo, he had dressed in his bright fushia overcoat with assorted shoes over a orange and white striped tunic. He also sported a large bow-tie adorned with a pearl in the middle and a large, feathered cappello hat. Now though, because of the lazyness of his sailors, worthless scimmie piccole all of them, he would have to change his clothes as it was totally unacceptable to enter the City of Coin, the Mother of Trade, the Capital of Silk, the Queen of All Markets without the most sumptuous clothes his immense coffers could offer him.

He had prepared for this day all his life. The day he would conquer the Great City of the Romans, raid it’s markets and enslave its citizens with his fine, tender, juicy mutton chops! The very best of the west! Directly from the fattest lambs of Liguria! This day had to be perfect.

“And I will not let those annoyingly slow sailors tarnish it,” muttered Voluminoso.

A voice brought him out of his reverie: “Water faring associate transportation workers, sinior.”

Voluminoso was taken aback, tried to mumble an answer spewing a thick glob of saliva in the process before remembering where he was.

“Yes, yes capitano, associate transportation workers, not slaves. I know.”

The Water Faring Worker’s Guild was a relic of his plan to gain control of all galleys in the western Mediterranean. The plan had of course backfired in a terribly ironic manner as only his own sailors and slaves had joined the guild and now he was forced to deal with them as a collective bloc of associates. Gone were the days where he could just have them whipped. He sighed. It was such a barbaric thing to do to an honest merchant to force him to negotiate with those little wretches. He was sure that one day in the future, those guilds and associations would disappear. People in a thousand years will never put up with such uncivilized behavior.

But Voluminoso Maiale was not in Constantinople only for commerce. No, he was here to find a wife. In all the cities he had visited in his life (which really only amounted to three, but one of them was in fact a village where he was forced to spend the night because he had gotten lost on his way to Milan) he had heard that the most beautiful women of the world came from Greece, and he was quite decided to marry the most beautiful among them, Anna Komnena, daughter of the great Roman Emperor. After all, was he not the richest and most powerful merchant in all the western world? And his robust physique clearly displayed his opulence. Surely she could not refuse him!

As his thoughts wandered on how he would conquer the city of his dreams and her queen, the Carico di Lardo sluggishly approached the docks of Constantinople.

The Lemongate

06-02-2008, 17:43

Voluminoso had been sitting on the docks of Constantinople for the better part of the morning. He was extremely tired. Watching his Water Faring Associates disembarking his prodigious quantities of fine mutton chops was an extenuating chore and he felt as though his energies were totally drained.

Calling his butler, he ordered a carriage to be brought up and to lead him in the inner city to find a place to rest. The ride into the city would have been uneventful had it not been for Voluminoso’s habit of ordering his driver about, yelling at him from the side window of the carriage, parts of his flabby stomach drooping out giving him the general appearance of a squished prune.

“You should have taken the left scimmia stupida! Now you’ll get us lost! Mama mia, sono circondato dai imbeciles! No! NO! Left here! Sinistra! Are you deaf? And be careful you nearly crushed that woman! Do not force me to come up there to teach you how to drive! Riiiight! Right! Oh! Just wait until I get up there! I will crush you like an insetto!”

With great pain, Voluminoso pulled back his belly inside the carriage. He was much too tired to fight with his coach driver. There would be time for that when he arrived in some place he could eat. And he still needed to get dressed properly. He had every intention of going straight to the Emperor’s palace that evening to demand the princess’ hand. He would probably have to hire an orchestra. And maybe buy a city block or two and transform them into gardens he would gift her. And he would create the greatest mutton chop market in all of Constantinople just for her! It would be marvelous!

As the carriage was passing near a tall and richly decorated building close to the Hagia Sophia, Voluminoso forced his carriage to stop.

“This is it. Stop. Stop you headless chicken! This is my hotel can you not see it! Stop I tell you!”

The coach driver tried to explain, but Voluminoso was not listening, he had pulled out his bulging form the carriage and was walking full speed towards the Magnaura.

TheFlax

06-02-2008, 22:54

((Written in collaboration with Kagemusha))

Banquet Revelations

Home of the Doukai, Constantinople, 1081

Anna gazed emptily at her own reflection in the mirror, her mind having wondered far away. Her thoughts went mainly to the different men she had recently met; from Kosmas Mavrozomis to Makedonios Ksanthopoulos, each had given her something to consider, even the overly angry one, Kalameteros. Her contemplation didn't last long as she was brought back to reality by a slightly annoyed voice.

"Anna! We have to get you ready, the banquet has already started."

Her personal servant and confidante, Verina, was franticly arranging Anna's hair while she sat and did little to help.

"You know how I dislike these gathering."

Verina paused and gave her a stern look through the mirror. Anna pouted in response, but knew Verina was right, she had to get ready. Nevertheless, like an actor playing her part in a play, she felt compelled to play out her role as she did everytime.

"Verina, why don't you go in my stead?"

The young woman was now choosing proper earings for Anna. Again she pause, this time smiling warmly.

"I am much to common of a woman to pass as royalty."

Anna made an exagerated roll of her eyes, but nevertheless had to agree. It was not a question of Verina's beauty, but they had very different features save for their dark hair. Her face was more angular than Anna's and the several springs she had over twenty had given her a somewhat austere appearance. With an exagerated sigh, Anna resigned herself to her fate.

"Very well, lets get this over with."

Anna applied a small amount of rouge on her cheeks while Verina fitted her with two small golden teardrop earings. The preparations over, Anna rose to watch herself fully in the mirror. She admired how her rich burgundy brocaded silk robe woven with raised designs of gold contrasted with her dark hair and pale face. Turning to her confidante, she repeated the words part of their ritual.

"How do I look?"

"You look marvelous Anna."

Smiling, Anna embraced the older woman, before leaving her room to join the banquet. As she heard the voices of revelry getting nearer, she steeled herself for another tedious evening. A few steps later, she took a deep breath and entered the banquet. At once, most eyes turned on her and Anna struggled to at least offer them a practiced smile.

Ioannis Kantakouzinos had been mingling through the banquet like it was requiered for any man of noble birth. Shaking hands of other noble men and kissing hands of their spouses and daughters.

He was sipping a glass of wine, wearing a black kontomanikion, with red sagion, which had newly embroiled coat of arms of the house Komnenodoukai on its shoulder, while the red colour was taken from his own family insignia.

As he was sipping his wine from a silver cup, the young Kantakouzinos became more and more uneasy. Ioannis thought's drifted.

What if the princess becomes enraged because of the disturbance of her privacy and tells her father that I am harassing her? Maybe this really was not such a good idea?

Suddenly the doubts of the young man were interrupted as Anna Komnenos entered the banquet, looking somewhat our of this world, with her brocaded silk robe, long flowing dark hair and pale skin.

Ioannis swallowed quite loudly and drank rest of his wine with one swallow, thinking.

Just put one feet after another and walk to her. Its not like you haven't fought in the battlefield risking your life times and times over. She maybe more dangerous then any enemy encountered, but she is no enemy and you are no coward.

Encouraged by his thoughts, Ioannis started walking towards the Princess, but just when he got few meters away from her, a familiar voice came from bit down in front of him, ending his internal battle like a bolt of lightning.

"Ioannis, how nice to see you! You have grown as a real Kantakouzinos man."

Ioannis turned his face towards the sound and saw the face of old and somewhat wrinkled woman with hearty smile on her face. Ioannis replied.

"Aunt Eugenia!"

Before he was able to continue. He felt an familiar sensation as his aunt pinched his cheek like million times before. His aunt still had power in his fingers.

"Have you remembered to eat well Ioannis? Ever since you left me and your uncle and started residing in the main residence of our house, I have been worried about you. I know what the young ones do, I was also young myself once, dancing until dawn and drinking wine until the last clear thoughts have passed their minds. Your Uncle says its nothing to worry, but Ioannis, you must remember to eat and sleep well or you wont live to see old age. It caused enough grief to our family to loose your father in Manzikert and afterwards your mother to the convention. You must stay healthy and live long, pass me and your uncle."

"Yes Aunt, of course Aunt.."

Ioannis tried to reply, as his eyes wondered between his aunt and the heavenly creature just few steps away. Anna Komnenos was surrounded by other people, so she could not have noticed the episode next to her.

Or could she?

Ioannis thought, but was were interrupted by his Aunt Eugenia.

"Now young man. Do not just stand there, but dance with your aunt."

Ioannis nodded with expression on his face like he had just lost a duel, while being dragged by his aunt to the floor.

After a bit of wait and nodding to his aunts, talk and suggestions of how he should live his life, another song started and Ioannis did his best to entertain his aunt while every time when he turned towards the princess he could not help but stare at the vision, which was so near, but still so far away.

Anna was already weary of the insatiable sycophants surrounding her. Pleasing them was easy, she needed only to smile meekly and modestly at their flattery or to laugh lightly at their jests. Nevertheless, she couldn't care less about them and their desires.

A quick scan of the room showed her few possibilities of escape, thus she would have to make one. She tolerated the men assembled before her for a time, until she saw an opportunity. The music had changed in favor of a dance that requiered a frequent rotation of partners.

Excusing herself suddenly, she sallied from the besieging admirers and grabbed a hapless courtier, before joining in the dance. This sort of dance suited her best because she didn't need to commit herself to anyone specifically, after a few moments, the dance would make her switch partners with someone else.

During the second dance, Ioannis could notice that his aunt would not last long anymore, the old bird couldn't keep him away from the princess for long anymore as she would soon need to rest.

As the dance was about to end, Ioannis was once again about to turn so that he could see the Princess in all of her beauty, but as he turned around, there was only few young men, where the princess had been just a moment a go. A terrible thought crossed Ioannis' mind.

Did I already lost her before I was able to meet her?

The music stopped and Ioannis stayed in his place, nurturing dreadful thoughts about his aunt, whom had gone to sit down and rest for a bit.

The first notes of the new song begun and by old reflexes Ioannis took one step to the right and spin to the left reaching his arm to the next partner, without so much looking towards that direction.

As he grabbed the sophisticated and small arm to to his own hand, he looked up and there she was, Anna Komnenos, holding his hand with a cute but appropriate smile on her rose lips. One spin to the right and then she was gone spinning with her next partner, while Ioannis was going to the opposite direction with his new partner, smiling and thinking.

It seems all hope is not lost yet. Now I will just have to wait while she spins through the line and back to me.Then she can't surprise me dumb.

After reaching the other end of the line, partners changing one after another, Ioannis could see how the beautiful princess was travelling his way. As he felt the touch of her hand again Ioannis said so others could not hear.

"Your higness, could you spare me word or two after this dance?"

Ioannis watched the Princess straight to the eyes and waited for a reply.

Anna recognised Ioannis the first time she passed by him in the dance and on the second pass, she could only smile and nod softly before shuffling over to her next partner.

The dance didn't last long enough for her to pass Ioannis another time and as soon as the music halted, she slipped away. Glancing back at Ioannis, she silently invited him to join her in one corner of the room.

Like moths drawn to a candle, the sycophants assaulted her once more. Anna dodged and weaved arround them, using other guests as shields. Circumventing most of them, she made her way hastily to where she would meet up with Ioannis.

Ioannis watched as the princess struggled to get rid of her admirers and as few stubborn few still following her, where they were supposed to meet. Ioannis decided to march between the Princess and the people trying to catch up with her. As he reached the point where he was standing between the Princess and the remaining followers, Ioannis suddenly turned to face tthem and with soft but determined voice said.

"If you could kindly spare us a minute with the princess, I would be forever grateful to the lot of you."

After saying the words the young Kantakouzinos kept staring at the eyes of the men, until all of them had decided to walk away or had turned their attention elsewhere in order to save face.

Then he turned towards the Princess, bowed and said with a playfull smile on his face, while pretending to be very much looking like he was sorry.

"I am terribly sorry for interrupting your chat with these ladies and gentlemen. I most humbly beg for your forgiveness."

Ioannis slowly raised his head while smiling to Anna. After the formal questions and compliments that had to be made on every occasion when nobles met, Ioannis explained to Anna what he wanted to talk with her.

"Your Majesty. As you must be aware I am practically an old man and because of my hideous appearance, no woman will pity me enough to marry a monster like me."

Ioannis tried to look as serious as he could and touched his moustache,while trying to draw his mouth downwards as if looking sad while he had trouble keeping his playful smile covered. He continued.

"Because of my hideous looks and need of your father, the Emperor, of strators to fight and die for him in distant places, my duty and honour is to go and fight the Tartars, Magyars and Saracens. For this I ask you dear princess to touch this cloth with your hand, so I could place it near my heart in order that the light which shines from you could give me comfort when without doubt my armor will be punctured by the Tartar arrows and the heathen Saracens will cut me open like a fish, while there will be probably blood everywhere...."

Ioannis continued his story about his horrible and gory death in hands of the enemies of the Empire, while trying to keep his act of doomed man together, with occasional smiling eye contacts to the Princess. He slowly raised his right hand with the cloth, which was the very same fabric the book had been covered with. He continued babling as if he was just trying to get the Princess to interrupt him.

Anna was taken aback by Ioannis' words, she had only wanted a companion for discussion that would not fawn over her. Apparently she had stumbled into something quite different.

She reached for the cloth and softy placed one finger over his mouth, wishing to silence him.

"Hush now. What is wrong with you Ioannis? Why do you speak of hideousness and doom? Is this some sort of game?"

Yet once Anna felt with her gentle hand the cloth handed to her, recognition flared in her eyes for an instant. It was the same kind of cloth that had wrapped the book she had recently received. A quick glance confirmed want her tactile senses had told her.

She did not know what to make of this. Was it a coincidence? Or was Ioannis toying with her?

Ioannis reached for the Princess' arm, so he could grab both the cloth and the hand holding it to his own. He leaned forward, bowing his head and kissed back of the hand of Anna. Slowly raising his head while gently taking the cloth to his own hand, while aiming his eyes to the eyes of the princess. He said with a gentle voice.

"The thing is Annna Komnenos, that as your humble admirer, who does not deserve the attention of the beauty unmatched in Court of Rome, or any other city under the sky. I must take my leave. Before I bring shame to either of us."

Ioannis smiled with longing and some kind of sadness in his eyes, unable to hold his feelings for the princess no longer, like he had hid those feelings for years. Realizing his revealing expression, Ioannis turned his eyes to the ground while nodding his head in a bow. He turned around and walked into the night, the confused expression of the heavenly creature burned in his eyes.

Anna simply stood there befuddled and at the mercy of the circling vultures. Seeing their prey vulnerable, they dived upon the young woman, quickly surrounding her. At first, she simply stared at them, stammering nonsensical replies, but quickly she pushed away her troubling encounter with Ioannis. She would reflect on it at a later time, for now, she had to entertain these fawning fools. It took all of her countenance to avoid sighing in despair.

flyd

06-03-2008, 05:34

Constantinople, 1081

As the sun was setting on the first day of Senate deliberations, Markianos Ampelas left the Magnaura and headed toward the inn where he was lodging during his stay in the city. Though the merchants were closing up their shops, the fishermen returning to the docks, and even the city garrison preparing to retire for the night, it seemed the tireless bickerers in the Senate would continue through the night. The sun had set by the time Markianos reached the inn, but it was still light out, and the streets were still fairly active. He picked up his mail from the inn keeper, and went to his room. The room was small and simple, containing only a bed, a chair, and a table. On the table was a mass of papers, and on the chair and the floor were scattered his clothes. The only decoration was a pair of small icons on the east wall, one of the blessed Theotokos and one of Saint Demetrius of Thessalonike. Markianos changed into plain clothes, and did not even bother to read his mail, but only sat on the edge of his bed and waited. After about half an hour, he donned his heavy, military cloak, under which he hid his sword and some money. He looked at the wall with the icons, made the sign of the cross, and left.

Much to Markianos' relief, the street was nearly deserted. While the sky was still a light pink, not much light reached the street level. Although the street was lighted by torches, they were weak, and one could easily go about clandestine business. He headed west, away from the rich areas of the city, passing through a succession of neighborhoods, each of greater ill-repute than the last. He finally arrived in the neighborhood he seeked, a few miles away from the center of the city, though still within the Wall of Constantine. He got off the main road, and navigated a labyrinth of narrow and poorly labeled streets. At each small intersection, he would stop and look at a small piece of paper he held in his hand, which probably contained directions. After another half mile or so, he arrived at the place.

From the outside, it was but a door in large, two-story building, with the only feature distinguishing it from the other doors being the letter μ painted upon it with white paint. Beyond the door and down the stairs was a fairly large room with about twenty tables, some half of them occupied. Markianos took a seat in the corner, and almost immediately a waitress, a pretty, blue-eyed, Rus' (probably Rus', from up north certainly) girl, brought him the only item on the menu: a large cup of beer.

Markianos was on his third beer, though it may have been the fourth, when it was announced that the tavern was closing. He did not react. Soon, he was the only person remaining in the tavern, and was approached by a short, Greek man, probably the owner, who reiterated that the tavern was closed.

"I am looking for Spyridon Mikellides," said Markianos without ever looking at the man.

"What?" responded the other, "I don't know who that is. You need to get out."

Markianos stood up and left. He stopped outside of the tavern, and stood near the door. A few people from the tavern remained near by, most engaging in pointless drunk conversation with their friends, though some occasionally casting glances in Markianos' direction. After a short time, the Rus' girl (yes, she might have been from further north, perhaps from the land of the Varangians, but that really is beside the point), came by.

She came up to him, put her arms around his neck, and said, "Would you like to come with me for some fun?" Her Greek was decent, with a slight hint of a Russian accent. Or perhaps Varangian. It was too light to tell, in any case.

"Yes," he said, without showing any emotion. He then followed her away from the crowd without drawing any attention. He followed her through the labyrinth until they came upon a building which was not in any way distinct from the other buildings, and entered a door which resembled most other doors. He followed her up the stairs, and she led him into a room lighted with a lamp, and when she had led him thus, she left, closing the door behind her. The room was clean, neat, and utterly ordinary and inconspicuous, except for the man in a dark blue cloak with a hood, sitting at a table and looking at Markianos.

Markianos sat across him, and asked, "Are you Spyridon Mikellides?"

"I go by many names," said the hooded figure.

"Well," said Markianos with a slight hint of annoyance, "is Spyridon Mikellides one of them?"

"What is it you want, Comes Ampelas?"

Startled a bit that this man knew who he was, Markianos started making his request: "There is a certain man who goes by the name of Apionnas Vringas. A Senator, of the rank of Strator. I shall tell you all I know of him, and you shall tell me everything else. He claims to be descended from a noble Roman family, and claims to have been taken a slave by the Mamluks and was an officer in the Manoso... Manosourioi--"

"Mansuriyya."

"Yes. Indeed. He now comes to the Roman Senate dressed as a Saracen. His family connections check out, and he was allowed in, and did participate in the debate, but there has been no proof, nor any show at all, that his allegiance lies with our Basileus Alexios and our Lord Christ. It is his allegiance, in both the temporal and spiritual realms, that interests me the most, but any information past what he has provided, and the accuracy of that which he has provided, would also be useful."

"It is possible that I can help you," said the man who sometimes goes by Mikellides, "but since the target is a Senator, and the punishment therefore high treason, it will cost money. Perhaps one hundred and twenty florins, up front."

Markianos tossed a small sack on the table, which landed with the distinct sound of ringing coins. "Fifty florins there, expect seventy when I have good information. And if this fellow should be uncovered a spy, then perhaps expect great rewards from the Emperor."

The two men then discussed the logistics of how they will contact each other and pass information and money. Satisfied, Markianos left the room, and found the Rus' girl waiting for him downstairs. She was to take him back to the tavern so he could find his way back. He did ask her where she was from, but she only smiled at him and said nothing. Typical cloak and dagger types, never reveal more information than is absolutely necessary, even if it is just to satisfy a simple curiosity. She was very pale, with light hair and bright, blue eyes, definitely from the far north, possibly from Novgorod or Rostov, if not from the lands of the Varangians.

Written with assent of AG

Kagemusha

06-03-2008, 09:01

Kantakouzinos residence the next morning.

Ioannis woke up early and had his usual simple breakfast. Naksos waited patiently until his master was served and then started reporting of the usual things like the household costs, new servants and other things normal.

The older man waited for Ioannis to change the subject to other things more urgent, but as the younger man did no such thing, finally he gave up and asked.

"So Master, how was the banquet."

Ioannis watched the view opening up from the windows opposite to him and replied.

"Naksos, i really do not know. Maybe the Varangian guard will arrive soon and put me into chains and i will be deported to some small island on Aegean Sea, or maybe nothing will happen. What i know is, that now Anna Komnenos knows who sent her the book and also she either understands that i have feelings for her, or thinks im crazy. Which in the end is pretty much the same thing. Only time will tell, what the princess thinks..."

Ioannis stopped talking when a young boy entered the room and whispered something to the ear of Naksos. The older man nodded as sign that he understood and the boy left.Naksos moved his eyes to Ioannis and said.

"The Basileos is about to address the Senate."

Ioannis turned his eyes to Naksos and replied.

"Then lets go."

TheFlax

06-04-2008, 02:13

Reflections

Imperial Palace, Constantinople, 1081

The banquet had ended nearly an hour ago and it was well into the fourth hour of the apodeipnon. A cool breeze sporadically made the many candles in room quiver. In that wavering light, Anna sat hunched on herself at the edge of her bed, her hands in her disheveled hair and her eyes red with tears. Her silken white nightrobe echoed each shudder as Verina tried to confort her. The book she had received the other night was sprawled on the floor, minor damage could already be seen in some places.

Reality had came crashing in tonight. The day before, messages from unknown admirers seemed surreal, as in a fantasy. It had been all a game for her, trying to discover their identities, yet always missing some crucial clue. A few hours, one of them had revealed himself as Ioannis Kantakouzinos, an acquaintance she had met several years ago. Not only had he toyed with her before revealing himself, but had prompty left her in a state of turmoil that had left her defenseless against the throng of suitors and sycophants who had jumped at the occasion.

She had thanked God for giving her the strength of keeping face until the end of the banquet. Rage, frustration and sadness had built up for the better part of the night and once the banquet was over she had rushed to her room and surrendered to them. She felt angry at herself, for being taken unware, and at Ioannis, for leaving her to the wolves without consideration. She felt frustrated at her powerlessness over this whole situation. She felt sadness because she could not give Ioannis want he wanted and because the revelation had shattered her foolish but conforting romantic dreams.

Rubbing her eyes, Anna turned to her confidante.

"What should I do?" She inquired in a desperate tone.

"About what?" Verina replied, moving to sit beside her.

"Ioannis Kantakouzinos." The name was spoken without a hint of emotion.

"He loves you, does he not?"

"He said as much."

"Then use him."

Anna's expression turned from grief to shock.

"I can't do that!" Outrage was creeping in her voice, yet Verina remained calm.

"Don't you frequently use other people's weakness to your advantage when dealing with them?"

Anna pondered the question, a bit too long for her own liking. Her reply was hesitant.

"It's... It's not exactly like that...I..."

"It's exactly the same thing." Verina pressed on as she felt Anna ceding ground.

"I guess so... but it feels wrong."

Yet Anna's hesitation was slowly slipping away. Verina felt Anna was about yield and delivered the final blow. "Didn't he hurt you Anna? Look at the state you are in!" In Anna's mind it made sense, would should she worry about how he felt after he clearly abandonned her, uncaring about her feelings? She let herself fully drop in the plush bed.

"You're right Verina. If needs be, I'll do it."

"What about the two Comes you have already met, Kosmas and Makedonios?"

Anna propped herself slightly on her elbows and locked her eyes with those of her confidante. "They aren't interested in me Verina, not in that way."

The older woman laughed softly. "Anna, every man is interested in you!"

Anna shock her head lightly. "Not them, they won't."

Verina became more insistent. "Anna! You have to use every advantage you have, you must..." In an instant Anna rose to a sitting position and scowled at Verina.

"Enough!"

Verina gave her an apologetic look. "But Anna..."

Anna cut her off as she rose. "Leave." Not looking back, she made her way to the room's balcony. Pushing the drapes aside she made her way into the darkness until she felt the balcony's railing. She propped herself on it and gazed at the sleeping city before her. Somewhere out there, Ioannis was thinking about her, not knowing how she felt. She silently apologized for what she was about to do.

Privateerkev

06-04-2008, 03:01

OOC: The following story is sappy and full of emotion. It is an attempt to balance out TLG's earlier stories regarding a certain large, boisterous, and buoyant merchant. Feel free to read on but you have been warned.

1081:

A desk and chair had been moved into the Grandmaster's spartan quarters. Simple and made of wood, there was a candle and a pen on top of the desk. By all accounts, today would have been considered a good day. The politics were going about as well as could be expected. Deals were being made for the benefit of all involved. Things were moving forward. But today was not a good day.

Makedonios sat hunched over a desk trying to scribble something down on a piece of paper. Ever since he had met Anna, he couldn't get her out of his mind. She consumed his thoughts. She floated into his mind like a beautiful apparition and smiled at him with that glowing smile of hers. He had not had a good nights sleep since they met.

They had communicated since but it was... very basic. No emotion, no heart. Makedonios had poured over her letters as if to soak every last drop of emotion out of them. But there was none there. The exercise left him feeling empty. There was no solace and no closure to be found there. He needed to tell her how he felt. But how?

He was under no illusions. He knew her father would never let them marry. And he knew she only saw him as a useful confidante. And he knew his faith and commitment to the Lord would never allow anything to progress any further. But he still felt how he felt. There was no denying it. He was starting to develop feelings for her. And not the kind of infatuation all the nobles felt. No, he actually liked the person he was getting to know. He liked her for the little things. The imperfections that defined her character. The times she allowed a little weakness to show.

For when she allowed weakness to show, it proved that she was not too proud to admit she was not perfect. She was very... humble for a Princess. And intelligent. Far more intelligent than the Comes. But unlike many men, Makedonios did not mind that. He knew he was smart enough to get the job done and that was good enough for him. Her intelligence did not threaten him. He hoped she knew that. Makedonios had already gotten a good read on many men in the Senate and he could tell that many of those men could not handle being with a woman smarter than they.

All night, Makedonios tried to scribble on the piece of paper with his hands shaking. Little rolled up balls of paper littered the floor. He didn't know how to put his feelings down on paper. He glanced at a small Orthodox cross on the wall from time to time. First praying for forgiveness for his impure thoughts. Then for strength. Now he prayed for guidance. Nothing came to mind.

Giving up, the Grandmaster got up and snuffed out the candle. Putting his robe over his clothes, he left the room, and quietly padded through the Order's chambers in the Senate building. He just needed to get some air. It was an unusually hot night but there was a breeze. Strolling down the path along the Magnaura, he saw the palace. He wondered which window was hers.

Standing there thinking, he realized that if he wrote to her tonight, he'd just be putting his own problems on her. Sure he was conflicted and confused. But why did he think earlier that she could possibly help him with that? He did put some of his work problems on her but she had asked to help. But this was different. This would be putting his emotional problems on her. He still didn't know what to do. But he knew he would somehow just have to work through it. And it would do neither of them any good to have him dump his emotional baggage on her.

Saying a prayer for her, Makedonios walked back into the Senate building to go to bed.

Kagemusha

06-04-2008, 10:30

Kantakouzinos residence the next evening after the banquet.

Ioannis returned home from Senate session in a good mood. Long gone were the agonizing thoughts of the morning, when he was expecting of being arrested or even deported.

The day had been eventful and in the end, after some more then comical events, the young Kantakouzinos had to leave the Senate session with almost hysterical laughter.

As Ioannis reached the Kantakouzinos residence, Naksos was waiting him already outside. With a meaningful expression on his face, the old man handed over a letter bearing a royal seal.Ioannis took the letter and without saying anything looked at Naksos, with inquiring expression on his face. The old man answered with a smile and nodding of his head.

As soon as Ioannis reached his bedroom he sat down and cut open the seal with a letter knife. His eyes moved along the first few lines and a large smile entered the face of young Kantakozinos. Towards the end of the letter, the smile dimmed and Ioannis raised his head few times, with pondering expression in his face. When he reached the end of the letter, Ioannis remained sitting still, watching as the flame of the large candle standing on his desk, created dancing shadows around his table. Slowly he pushed the letter aside, grabbed paper and started writing on it. Once he was finished, Ioannis took his seal from a draw of his desk, poured some wax on the envelop and pressed hard his seal to the wax, with smile, but also somewhat troubled expression on his face.

After few minutes of stillness, Ioannis said in a silent voice.

"Naksos, enter."

The older man who had already stood behind the heavy wooden door of Ioannis bedroom marched in and bowed to his master. Ioannis looked sharply in the eyes of the older man and said.

"Deliver this letter to the Princess and do not let it slip in wrong hands, even if you had to guard it with your life."

Bowing his head, Naksos took the letter and left the room, while the younger man remained still, watching the flame of the single candle, lighting the room.

ULC

06-04-2008, 17:39

Constantinople, Order of St. John's Chambers, 1081

Iakovos rubbed his eyes and shifted in his seat, setting the book he had been reading to one side. He turned to stare at the flickering flame before standing up and turning to the shelves of scrolls and books within the Order's library within the Senate. Iakovos sighed as he looked wonderingly at the marvel the written word was, how each parchment, each scroll, each page, was the past connecting with the present. Iakovos mused to himself how he spent more time in the library reading or writing then the chapel praying and reflecting.

Iakovos sighed to himself as he reached up and pulled a copy of the book he was reading from the shelf and opened it to the page he was reading. He was sure he had come across a discrepancy, and it would need to be corrected. After a moment, he found it. A sentence had been rearranged, and the one he was reading from was written in a form harder to understand. Closing the book, Iakovos returned to his desk and jotted down the book title and page, to remind himself to look for a third to see if he could not clear up the actual phrasing.

Returning the one upon his desk to the shelves, Iakovos extinguished the candle, and turned to go to his private chambers. As he walked, a chain with a locket clinked, and Iakovos instinctively reached for it. Upon it was written in German "Seek first to Understand, then to be Understood.". It was a parting gift from his father, the only thing he had of him, who had died when Iakovos was 9 at Manzikert, along with his two elder brothers, Aleksander and Ehrhart. His mother had tried to raise him afterwards on her own, but soon passed away of heartbreak not soon after.

He was taken to a monastery, where he truly learned of God, and where he developed his love of the written word. Iakovos had made his way to his chambers, brushing open the door and sweeping in only to collapse into his bed, tired from the days activities and the lack of sleep. Iakovos quickly drifted off into a deep slumber.

The Lemongate

06-05-2008, 05:57

(written with TheFlax)

The Merchant and the Princess

Anna had picked the early afternoon to visit Hagia Sophia in order to commune with the Lord, yet as she neared the Magnaura, she sensed something was wrong when she could not hear the usual heated debates coming from the building. She paused in front of the building, halting her escort, asking herself if she should peer into the building.

Her attention was suddenly caught by a clamor coming from within the Magnaura's courtyard. The seat of the Senate was rarely calm when the august body was in session, but the vociferous voice that was rising from the marble gateway leading to the Magnaura had nothing to do with bickering senators. It was rather an eclectic mix of high-pitched italian swears, some so obscure even a native speaker would have had trouble discerning their literal meaning, and boisterous oaths of revenge, most of them inhuman tortures having to do with the ingurgitation of substantial quantities of lard.

When the speaker finally exited the Senate courtyard, fearful guards respectfully keeping their distances, she could see the man was a strongly built Italian. His most prominent feature, his expansive belly, preceded him by several feet. He was dressed in the finest Italian silk clothes, although the choice of attire and color left much to be desired. In one hand he held a ridiculously large, feathered cappello hat with which he was threatening the guards following him.

As the gates were closed behind him, he bellowed :

"Pagliacci ignari! I will have you fattened with little German salsiccie until your tongues drop off! Scimmie! I will go to the highest authorities with this! The highest authorities! The Emperor himself will hear of this you can be sure! To treat Voluminoso Maiale with such indignity! I'm a prince I'll have you know! Un principe, voi imbeciles! When the consuls of Genoa learn of this! Mama mia!"

Anna could hardly contain a light laughter at grotesquely obese man's display. Nevertheless, she regained some measure of seriousness when he mentioned the emperor. If he had a complaint to make, it could be made it to her, no need to bother her father with such things.

Neither could this task be relegated to someone of lower rank if he was a prince. For diplomacy's sake, even Latin princes needed to be respected. Motioning her escort forward, Anna made her way to him. She addressed him in a soft and conciliatory voice.

"Good lord of Genoa. You wish address a complaint to the royal family?"

Voluminoso turned around with impressive speed and agility for such one of such enormous bulk. Of course, keeping his balance was something else altogether, but after nearly flattening one of the princess’ retinue, he managed to find a relatively firm footing. When he saw a lady of the highest nobility before his eyes, his years of classical education where etiquette and prestance were beaten into him with a stick (or sometimes a large trout) came rushing back to his mind. Grimacing for an instant at the thought of the trout, he quickly struck a pose and bowed, his flabby stomach scraping the ground.

"La maggior parte della altezza nobile, signora allineare, principessa generosa, I thank you for your concern! You are a true soul to take pity of a man in such extreme circumstances! Mama mia! Even in Italia the gentleladies are not so caring!

I am Voluminoso Maiale, of Genoa, merchant extraordinaire, richest man west of Constantinople e un vero Principe Italiano! I have just arrived in the city on my ship, il Carico di Lardo and I fear I got lost. Even my coach has abandoned me! So I entered this building here to seek some help, to talk to the proper authorities, but they treated me like una bestia senza valore! It is unimaginable! To treat so badly a man coming from the great city of Genoa! A man that has come to make connexions with the great people of the Greeks and Romans! I bring the best of wares! And money! I will buy entire city blocks! Make markets! And soldi! Soldi per tutto! Per tutto! For you, for me, for everybody!

And then I want to meet the Emperor! And his daughter! They say she is the most beautiful lady on the northern shores of the Mediterranean. A beauty like you la mia signora. I have brought gifts and presents for the royal family! My ship is full of them! But what am I to do, now lost in this huge city? And my coach, this idiota maledetto that has run away! I pray you can help me principessa generosa!"

Voluminoso was giving a truly a pathetic show. His beady little eyes seemed ready to burst in tears and his large, greasy shoulders were visibly sinking into his form. But worst above all, he seemed sincerely distraught at his situation. That any man be in such predicament would elicit sympathy, but that such an enormous buffoon be so assailed by misery could turn around even the hardest of hearts.

Anna usually despised Italian princes. They were more akin to rich merchants than anything else and Anna was tempted to abandon him to his fate. Yet something in his speech moved her. She pitied the man even though he was a Latin. He seemed genuinely in distress, of that she was sure. She hardly understood the barbaric tongue of the man and what she did understand of his disjointed Greek made little sense. He wanted to buy the city?

Nevertheless, he wanted to meet the emperor and her. Maybe she could spare her father the visit of this man by indulging him. Surely pointing him to lodging establishment and making him understand the emperor was too busy with the Magnaura would not be too hard. For all the pity she had for him, she would not tolerate wasting too much time with this bumbling fool. Speaking noticeably slower and very clearly, as if to an infant, Anna pointed to the building behind the man. Hopefully, he would understand, but Anna had her doubts.

"That is the Mag-nau-ra, the location where our representatives assemble to pass le-gis-la-tions. No one but those authorized to do so may enter. Now the emperor is bu-sy, but I, as his daughter and representative, might be able to alleviate your concerns. You were seeking lod-ging, yes?"

There was a pause in Voluminoso’s train of thought. His mind snapped. She had said it. She was her. Her. The woman he had come to see. The woman he had come to marry and bring back to his estate in Genoa. He felt great emotion to know that she had stopped to talk to him in his hour of need. He was overcome by a powerful feeling, something he had rarely felt before. His immense body quivered for an instant. Tender feelings flooded his mind, and for a fleeting moment, a damn broke deep inside of him and he was filled with bliss. But he was quickly called back to the grim realities of his situation, and a single thought now clearly formed in his mind:

She was too THIN!

Totally unacceptable for a man of his prestigious situation to be married to a woman of this minuscule size, be she queen of half the world! No, no, no, no, no! He had to get out of this situation and fast! He felt that she could fall in love with his herculean physique at any time. He knew the sway he had over women. And yet, such a charming lady, and she was the fabled princess of the Greeks, their new Helen (well less plump of course, a shame). He could not simply push her back. He had to play the game.

"Cuore dorato, I cannot accept your help! You are a principessa, a Greek princess you see, and I am un grande e commerciante potente, il più ricco."

Voluminoso hoped he wasn’t being to hard on her. He added, with forced emphasis :

"But I will hold your smile in my heart, bella signora, it will warm me more then any hotel or senate ever could. I will hold dear this memory of the princess of the Greeks and send you the presents I have brought on board my ship! But I will be busy you understand, I’m an important man, demand and supply and bridging new markets. I might not be able to come see you, braciola di maiale adorabile, or your fine father."

As he was saying these words, his coach finally reappeared. It looked like it had been vandalized as a huge ax was stuck in a door and one wheel was missing, but it somehow managed to keep relatively straight. Voluminoso entered it as quickly as his adipous form would allow and waved at the princess as his coached dashed away :

"I know you would have me stay, but I must take my leave il mio piccolo criceto grasso. I will send you an orchestra to sing you the serenade!"

Feeling relieve that he had finally been able to put an end to this rather unfortunate conversation, he hoped he would be able to spend the rest of his trip to Constantinople without meeting her again, but he had an ominous feeling his fate might decide otherwise.

Anna was stunned at his tirade. She felt relief at the mention of not having enough time to see her, but why the sudden change of disposition? The moment she had revealed who she was, he had changed his attitude. One instant he wanted guidance and to explain his grievances, the next he wanted to never see again?

Was it something she said? Was he afraid of her? She silently hoped so, because she hardly wished to meet that man again. And yet she feared fortune would not show her that simple kindness...

flyd

06-06-2008, 04:36

Constantinople, 1081

A letter is personally delivered to Markianos Ampelas. Verified authentic by a method agreed upon.

This is a preliminary report based on the information collected so far.

The subject's claim to have Greek family is likely true. His main correspondence is with a man who he identifies as an uncle, though the identity of the man has not been independently verified yet. Other possible family members have been observed interacting with the subject, though their relations have not been discovered. In general, the subject and family act normal, given that they have not seen each other for many years, and there has been no evidence that this is a ruse or cover. That, combined with the fact that he has been admitted to the Senate (though the proof presented to the Senate is unknown), strongly indicates that the subject has Greek relatives as he claims.

However, the subject has been observed exhibiting several suspicious behaviors, which are summarized below. The first set of behaviors relates to his political allegiance, and the second to the religious.

The subject has several contacts whom he meets with regularly. These men are likely of Arabic descent, though that is based on appearance only, but all of my associates, some of whom are very widely traveled, agree on this point. Their meetings have been in public places, but difficult to approach. This possibly indicates that they wish the contents of their meetings to remain secret, even at the expense of the meetings themselves being publicly observable. However, that is not the only explanation, as they could simply be unskilled in choosing clandestine meeting places, or that they are unconcerned with being seen. Furthermore, these men act in a slightly subordinate manner towards him. If he was in the Mamluk army as he claims, these could be his former comrades, especially of lower rank. If he is a spy, then these men could form his spy ring, with him as the ring leader. They remain unidentified.

The subject was observed visiting the Hagia Sophia, but did not cross himself at the entrance. This is a possible indication of heathenism, but he may have been unaware of the custom if he spent many years among the Saracens. Still, unless he was taken at a very young age, it is something he would have been taught. He was probably forced to convert to Islam when captured, and his visit to the church may indicate a desire to convert back, although his reason for the visit has not been confirmed. Another small but potentially relevant observation was that the subject refuses to drink wine. Although there are those among us who do as well, this could be a possible indication of continued allegiance to Mohamed. However, since he was taken at a young age, he may simply be unacquainted with wine, and may yet be unaware of its benefits.

These comprise the observations collected thus far. The subject appears fully unaware of being observed, and observations and other activities will therefore continue at no reduced effort.

Facts straight from the horse's mouth... of a horse named AG, that is.

TheFlax

06-06-2008, 22:26

((Written in colloboration with AussieGiant))

Constantinople, 1081

I sometimes wonder what happened to the gods of old, those who shaped the world of my long passed ancestors and that have such a great importance in the ancient texts. I was taught by father Agathos and mother that when the Christ was born, they all died. Yet, how can we be truly sure? They might have been forgotten, simply left behind to the eroding winds of history. What of humans? What of me? In my time, many know my name and I was born with a clear destiny. Yet, once it is over and I am gone for good, will anyone remember who I was? In a millenia, will anyone wonder who I was, how I felt and what were my dreams? For, if gods can be vanquished by time, what hope have we of surviving the tides of time?

- Memoirs of Anna Komnenos

A small procession made its way through the streets of Konstantinopolis, the afternoon sun shining clearly above them. Leading the small group of mostly armed bodyguards, Anna Komnenos wore a simple white silk robe with gold filigree which was complemented by a veil of the same fabric and color. Since her visit to the Mavrozomis estate, she had forsworn the use of the traditional litter in favor of walking to her destination, especially for a visit to Hagia Sophia where she had to show humility before God.

In a short time, she found herself in front of the great church and signaled her retinue to wait for her, for surely no harm would come to her in this Holy place. Leaving them behind, she made her way to Hagia Sophia's entrance in bold strides and yet she faltered when she noticed two men also intent on entering the church. Her gaze quickly focused on the second man, the one who had attracted her attention. He seemed to stand out in the streets as much as she did, yet in his case, it was not because of who he was but more because of the way he was dressed.

Tall and sender, the young man was dressed unlike anyone Anna had ever encountered. Instead of the traditional chlamys or sagion, he wore a blue silk cloak of unknown design and embroidered with marking she could not recognize. Black bands of cloth on his upper arms also attracted her attention, displaying more puzzling markings.

Surely this was the Strator from the land of the Saracen of whom the rumormongers speak incessantly. Curious and seeing an opportunity, Anna raced ahead of two to block their path. Pointedly ignoring the older of the two men, she interpelled the object of her curiosity in a confident and somewhat haughty tone.

"I would speak to you... If you please." In reality, her demeanour indicated she would not give him any choice in the matter.

Her escort approached hastily until they were only at a few paces from her, their tension and nervosity palpable.

The older of the two men blanched white with shock at the words spoken towards the younger man, the shade of white paled even further when his faced registered who had spoken the words a few seconds later.

In contrast, the young Saracen officer paused deliberately in his stride and began to assess both the young woman in front of him, his uncle’s reaction and that of the guards closing in around the three of them.

In a slow and smooth motion he positioned himself between his uncle and the young woman and in an attempt to ease the guards apprehension, he opened the palms of his hands outwards and bowed deliberately with a practised motion.

"Assalaam Alaikum my lady, of course you may speak with me. What would you like to discuss?"

Clearly some of the attending guards knew Arabic as at least one tensed even further at the greeting.

Anna considered the foreign words spoken to her and noticed some of her guardians reacting visibly at them. Was it a threat? No, the tone was off. It seemed more like a greeting of somekind, yet she had no way of knowing if it was polite or not. Refusing to cede the initiative of the conversation, she pressed on heedless of true meaning of those two words.

"I have heard there is man in the Magnaura who comes to us from the south, from Egypt? It is said he is more Arab than Roman... Would you be this man?"

Her voice held no hint of accusation or reproach, only unbridled curiosity.

Glancing at the guards momentarily the young man could hear the sincerity of the question even though she did not answer as he was expecting. Clearly she was unware of the customs of Egypt.

"I can not be certain my lady, but I believe I was the only man dressed in the Senate session as you see now. Therefore it is safe to assume I am the person you are referring to.

Would you like to take tea and talk further or proceed into the Church?"

Anna was shocked, yet intrigued. No sane man would usually be so foreward with her and yet she did not find it wholly unpleasant. Yet, she was in public and had an appearance to maintain.

"Hagia Sophia can wait for me; we will talk further although I will abstain from consuming any tea. You may have some if you wish."

The last sentenced was voiced as if she was granting him a privilege. Motioning to an attendant to join her, she added a few words politely.

"You only need to ask and he will fetch it for you."

A glance at his uncle had the desired effect. The older man moved away and continued passed the circle of guards to hover near the massive doors of the Orthodox Church. The alarm etched in his uncles eyes was clearly seen by Apionnas yet the young man's calm deamenor never waivered.

Turning his gaze back to the woman in front of him he had to admit that with closer inspection she did seem more appealing that when he saw her on the steps of the Hippodrome.

Holding her gaze for a few moments longer than decorum permitted he finally bowed more fully.

"I've been remise my lady. My name is Apionnas Vringas, at least here in Byzantium."

Anna gave him a soft smile, discarting her attendant with a flick of her wrist.

"Apionnas..." She lingered on the word thoughtfully. "You have caused quite a stir with your uncommon attire. Some would brand you a traitor or an enemy, although I am sure you are trying to make some other point with this choice of clothing. I am not wrong, am I?

There were little expectations in her voice, only more curiosity.

Apionnas's raised eyebrow in response to her words, was more than enough for her to realise that there could possibly be more than one level of mean in the conversation they where having.

Again he held her gaze in his own for more than a few moments. It was not an uncomfortable silence as his slightly amused expression gave her more than enough to ponder while he chose his next words.

"Where I was raised this is a uniform and is regarded as a badge of rank and honour. Of course I am aware of where I am and much to my uncle's ire I've decided not to discard what I am and where I have come from.

Any person that so quickly assumes my allegiance is one way or another, based simply on how I look, is either a simpleton or easily influenced by superficial things."

Apionnas pauses to glance at the guards who are clearly close enough to hear everything being said. He continues;

"I doubt you are either. For example, the black bands around my arms indicate my name and rank inside the Mansuriyya regiment I served with.

You on the other hand seem to cause quite a stir by simply being in any particular place. My uncle says you are a princess and the daughter of the Basileus. How do you deal with being...how can I say...unique?"

She chuckled at the question. Had she not herself wondered the same thing many times? Nevertheless she replied without missing a beat.

"I mostly let others deal with my uniqueness, they usually worry about it enough for two." She spared a look to Apionnas's uncle, before producing another polite smile. "In the case of your uncle, he seems to be worrying enough for three."

Noticing a small crowd forming at a distance, but with its attention solely upon them, Anna spoke softly enough to reach only Apionnas's ear.

"It would seem this conversation has reached its end."

Then taking a more haughty tone all could hear, she added. "You may proceed into Hagia Sophia, Senator."

Smiling at the ruse the young Senator bowed and said loudly.

"Of course my Lady."

As he moved passed her he said more quietly.

"It has been a pleasure my lady. Assalaam Alaikum, may peace be upon you."

TheFlax

06-07-2008, 08:34

((Written in collaboration with Deguerra))

Byzantine Intrigues

Constantinople, 1081

Anna looked at her portable sundial, it was nearing the tenth hour, she would be late. She cursed inwardly Kalameteros who had dragged her across the city, to meet of all place, at the Golden Gates. Nevertheless, his offer had been too tempting to refuse, maybe a bit too much. Part of her expected some sort of trap, or at least that the Strator would use his advantage over a woman, be it a princess, alone in the streets at a late hour.

She would be the one with the advantage, she had been bred to always have the advantage, as her grandmother had taught her. She had sought Alexandros, Aleksandr in the tongue of his people, the man responsible for the security of the women's quarters in the Imperial Palace and had asked him a favor, the coins she had given him had sealed the deal. She had simply said she wanted to watch the sun set from the walls of the city. An odd request, but with the emperor busy, there was no one left to deny her.

Towering above Anna were his part of the bargain, four varangians who spoke only a few words of greek, enough to receive basic orders. A feet and more taller than her, these Rus carried their crude instruments of war with pride, large axes and in some case long blades. Their blazing red tunica, complemented with a dull colored chlamys, coupled with their unusual height contrasted vividly with the petite woman in light green and blue robe they flanked. Their hard faces, some carrying a few scars, had long unkept beards ranging from blond to a reddish hue which were surpassed in lenght by their straight hair of a similar color.

Arriving at the Golden Gate late by a few minutes, Anna had no doubt the impetious Strator would wait for her. She relished the thought of seeing his reaction at her unexpected escort.

Looking around, Anna saw nobody in sight but the guardsmen at the gate. She stood and waited with her escort, but nobody came. The occasional late pedestrian hurriedly scampered by in the distance, but at this late hour no respectable citizen would be seen walking the streets, much less leaving the city, so the area around the gate remained eerily quiet. Just as Anna was getting ready to return to the palace, a lone figure detached itself from the group of guardsmen underneath the gate.

The man that approached was no ordinary guard. His fine tunic and embroidered cloak named him an officer. His face was hard to make out in the shadows, but he was relatively young for any rank and had the dark hair complexion of a Greek. Eying the newcomer warily, Anna's Varangians formed a small semi-circle in front of her, but did not impede the man as he walked briskly towards the Princess.

Keeping a respectful distance the man spoke: "My Lady, I have been asked to give you the following message. Ioannis does not think it is safe to meet here and would have you follow me to a more appropriate place." He eyed the men to his side and licked his lips. "He did not mention an escort, but...as I do not think they will part from your side, they can come."

If this had suprised Anna, none present could tell, as her expression remained neutral. Nevertheless she boilded with rage, mostly at herself for being so smug. As if in chess, Ioannis had made a better opening move. In the end, it did not matter, she would be the one to call «checkmate», this was only a minor setback.

Aknowledging the officer, she spoke curtly.

"Lead on then."

As she followed him, her Rus escort fanned out around her, ever alert for the slightest sight of treachery. If anything went wrong, she was sure the young officer would be the first to die.

With no great hurry in his step, the officer started walking back into the city. North and east he led the, in the direction of the old city, but not along the main road, instead choosing smaller side alleys that kept them hidden from the few guards that patrolled at this hour.

At the Forum of the Bous, the offer took a sharp turn, and soon another. By now Anna was a little unsure of where they were, and what direction they headed in, until all of a sudden the magnificent Forum of Thedosius sprawled ahead of them, in the descending sun. Even at this time of the evening there were still people about here, but in contrast to his previous secrecy the young guard led them straight across it, entering a small park that branched off to the west. Anna knew this area reasonably well, it was one of the prettier parts of the city. The park was a small expanse of green, with trees and bushes lining the little paths. Above it, still visible in the evening sky, towered the Aqueduct of Valens.

--------------------------------------------------

Verina settled herself in a hedgerow under the great Aqueduct, her gray woolen cloak aiding her concealment in the underbrush. She had arrived sometime earlier before the meet, waiting to see if Ioannis Kalameteros would show himself. She thought herself quite clever in setting this up, if it was a trap she could flee before anyone would ever know she was here. Time passed incredibly slowly in moments like this one and part of her simply wanted to run away, back to the Palace. Greed and ambition overcame her fear, she would show this equally ambitious young noble she was not some weakling.

Suddenly everything went wrong. Anna appeared out of nowhere, even if she had not recognised her clothes, she could have told by the stuck up pose in which the young woman walked. Verina paled when she noticed an soldier, or an officer, and four tall and muscular men who dwarfed anyone in their presence. Varangians! Anna must have been expecting trouble... Anna must have been expecting to find her here!

Verina panicked and cursed the uncanny intelligence of her mistress. She scrurried out from her hiding place and ran to the Palace, hoping she would get there before Anna.

Ioannis Kalameteros cursed as he watched the events rapidly unfolding before him from his own hiding place. He had positioned himself a small way away from the main path, between a statue and one of the mighty stone pillars of the aqueduct, where the shadows were darkest, his concealment further enhanced by a dark cloak.

Shortly before the eleventh hour, he had seen a woman arrive, in plain but good dress and study the area a bit, before hiding herself in a bush not far from his own hiding place. He had been perplexed. A woman? He cursed himself now for his foolishness. Why not a woman, after all. In fact, a woman made a great deal more sense than a man. His mouth spouting words that would have made an innkeeper blush, he launched himself out of the shadows and after the fleeing woman.
She was no fool. She did not run straight towards wherever it was that she was going, but darted into a side alley here, around a corner there, until Ioannis was quite unsure he knew where they were. But he was gaining. She was agile, true, and running with the fear of the almighty in her, but her dress was not made for running. Slowly but surely he was gaining.

Then he rounded a corner after her and she was gone. Ioannis came to a stop, panting. He peered down the street, but there was nobody to be seen. A small alley to the side revealed nothing but darkness.

Still catching his breath he walked to the nearest wall and leaned against it, his thoughts racing. Who had she been? Would she make another attempt at contacting him?
Just as he was about to leave, a shape came bounding out of the small alley and ran straight into him still standing in the shadows. As both fell to the floor, he recognised her face. Before she had another chance to run, he seized her with one arm and pressed her against the wall, clamping her mouth shut with the other hand. She kicked ans struggled, landing a painful blow on his shin, but he held on for all he was worth. After what seemed an age she stopped, her eyes peering at him over his gloved hand with a look of fear and defiance.

He tried to make his voice as calm as possible: "I am Ioannis Kalameteros. You wanted to meet me."

She ceased her struggles the instant he gave his name, relief evident in her frightened eyes.

He took his hand away from her mouth but held her firmly pressed against the wall. "Good." He sighed. "I am sorry if I scared you, but I had to make sure it was not a trap." He gave a weak smile. "I am not so sure now it would not have been better just to risk it. That is quite a kick you have there. In any case, I believe you wanted to talk to me. Now if you promise me not to run, I will let you go." Slowly, he loosed his grip on her.

"Yes... yes my lord."

Taking a wary step back, Ioannis pulled a small bottle from his robe and took a long swig. Hesitating briefly, he offered it to the woman. "Do you have a name?"

As she is released, Verina reajusted her veil before indicating she did not wish any liquor. Hesitation gripped her at the mention of a name, but quickly she thought of another servant she did not like much. "Eudoxia is my name, lord. If I may be so bold, I take it you are interested in my offer?"

Unable and unwilling to bite back his sarcasm, Ioannis gave the woman a flat stare: "On the contrary, I hide in the shadows and preform cross-city sprints on a nightly basis, because I find it keeps my skin healthy." Were all servants this thick?

Ignoring the comment, Verina continued. "I cannot tarry late at this hour and all I can tell you is that I know most of the princesses secrets; be it the nature of her suitors and her relation to each of them or who she is in contact with and what information they give her. My price will be fifteen follis per piece of information and a garantee that when the princess discovers this, and she will, I will have a safe haven."

Ioannis leaned back and though for a brief moment before speaking: "I will give you thirty follis on the guarantee that this information goes to me and only me." Leaning in close to her face he continues "As for a safe haven, what makes you think you can trust me with that? Once the Princess finds out, what use are you to me?"

Her meek facade quickly shifted to a cold and calculating expression. "Consider this, lord" Placing a great deal of weight on the word. "She will want to know to whom I was speaking." She pretended an exagerated moan for an instant. "Oh, how long will I endure the torture they will put me through..."

Ioannis stepped back and laughed with something almost approaching warmth. "You are a worthy opponent Eudoxia, the Princess should be wary. Although you may not want to connect yourself to me, even under torture. I don't think the Princess likes me much." Giving a cheeky grin, he quickly became serious again. "So my condition is accepted. Thirty follis. Only to me?"

"It is, lord." She gave him a bow. "May I retire from your presence?"

He chuckled again. "I do not believe our current surroundings call for such formalities." He let his eyes wander meaningfully along the darkened alley. "In any case I am not much of a man for formalities. How will you contact me? And how will I contact you and pay you?"

"I will contact you the same way I did for this encounter and you will pay me when I give you the information, in person."

"Good. I like personal meetings. If I need to contact you, you will be told. I will not do so unless it is absolutely necessary. If you are found out, make your way to my House and identify yourself as Eudoxia. If that is impossible, there is an officer in the palace guard called Stephanos Koressio. Tell him who you are and he will bring you to me. I think that is all. Goodbye Eudoxia"

She gave him a curt bow and left, hastily making her way back to the Imperial Palace.

Ioannis breathed a sigh of relief. A remarkable woman in her own right. This had been a most interesting night.

-------------------------------------------------

Having passed the Aqueduct, they finally halted and Anna let out an audible sight. Her features conveyed a profond annoyance at the situation, even through her veil. Eyeing the officer with disdain, she interpelled him.

"I have had enough of this silly game, have you thouroughly wasted my time or will Ioannis Kalameteros will finally grace me with his presence?"

As the officer turned around, Anna noticed the tight expression of anxiety in his face, and the way his eyes shift constantly, trying to peer into the shadows beyond the path, darting from place to place.

"Please my Lady, do not use names" he spoke, his voice almost a whisper. "This is no game. He should have been here my Lady. He said if he was not here then he was either being followed or dead. He said if he was not here I was to take you back to the palace and not leave your side until you had entered it. We should not remain standing my Lady, the streets are dangerous at night, even for guards." He lowered his voice again "Especially for us. Please let us go."

Anna did not care anymore if she lost her composure or not, she openly glared at the officer and her tone was fast passing from irritation to outrage.

"He will wish he were dead after this affront! And you! Be lucky you are entirely too forgettable for me to report you in all this. Now, get back to your post before I take further notice of you!"

Infuriated, she left for the Imperial Palace with her protectors in tow, vowing Ioannis would pay dearly for this.

---------------------------------------------------------

Verina found Anna pacing in her quarters, so furious she barely acknowledged her confidant. By that time, both women had changed their clothes and Verina looked the part of a bored servant. Moving closer to the younger woman, she used a soothing voice.

"What is wrong Anna? You look utterly distraught."

Anna nearly exploded. "Its that bastard..." she struggled with the name, nearly choking on it. "Kalameteros. He played me, now I owe a favor to Alexandros, and for what? For nothing! He made me waste my time, placed me in possible danger, abused...."

Verina had stopped listening and it took all of her self-control not to smile. That's it my dear, the harder you fall, the higher I will rise...

Kagemusha

06-07-2008, 09:52

Constantinopol, the last morning of the Senate sessions.

As the voting sessions were about to come to the end. The outcomes of the votes started to seem obvious to the various senators. After talks with several senators and listening carefully to the rumors, circulating the Senate, the outcomes of several votes became clear inside the head of Ioannis.

Ioannis had not heard about the princess after few days and his mood had become sour, as he thought that the reason was that interests of Anna were somewhere else. Aware of his duties, the young Kantakouzinos had been circulating the merchant quarters of Constantinopol all morning. Purchasing armor, weapons, horses and provisions for his few personal retainers. After just buying grain, enough to supply his small unit of mounted men for about a month. Ioannis decided to have a tea near the ports and sat down to a tea shop, which had nice view over the Golden Horn. The pears were full of men loading and unpacking goods to the ships that frequently sailed in and out of the docks.

As Ioannis was about to have a sip from his tea, a man approached him and passed quickly and unnoted a letter to Ioannis table, which Ioannis opened after viewing the familiar seal briefly, with small smile on his face. His facial expression turned first to show disappointment and after reading the whole letter, Ioannis stuffed the letter on his pocket and marched to a near by jewelry store, with an expression on his face, which shoved if he had became aware of his destiny without much control over it.

Around noon after returning from the market Ioannis wrote a letter himself and handed it to Naksos with a a small bag with it.Saying.

"Deliver these two items to the Princess so those will reach her after the Senate session is closed. Meantime call in my personal retainers. We have some planning and practicing to do."

flyd

06-08-2008, 00:17

Constantinople, 1081

In the ninth hour of the day, when most people look forward to ending that day's labors, is when the labors of those who practice dishonest trades are only set to begin. It is in the ninth hour that one of the city's spy rings holds their daily councils, where they plan the activities for that day, which is to say that night. The meeting is always in a different place, and the members do not learn where until the seventh hour. There are only five core members, who share the profit and participate in the council, but there are many other associates who are paid fixed amounts for their efforts. Today the meeting is in the attic of a residential building somewhere in the city. The five sit around a small, square table.

At the head of the table sits Gregorios (Krikor) the Armenian. It is said that Gregorios has been a spy all his life, and that his first successful mission came when he was but four years of age, when he discovered his mother's adultery and sold that information to his own father for a hefty sum. He was a military and political spy for most of his life, at first for the Armenians, but also the Romans, Turks, Saracens, and anyone else who had money. It is said that in spite of this, he was always reliable and loyal to whomever was paying him at the time, but upon completing his mission, he would switch sides if better money was offered. Needless to say, this made him a very effective spy, for he was familiar with all the major powers in the region. Sometime past his fiftieth year, he decided to retire in Constantinople, which he chose because it was a major center of trade, and with material goods came also information from many distant lands. He was, in fact, offered the position of diplomat by the Romans since he spoke Greek, Armenian, Arabic, Turkish, and was quite familiar with Persian and Georgian too. He declined, however, not wishing to completely abandon his trade, he became involved in the local espionage community, building up a trustworthy group around him. He himself no longer goes out at night and actively engages in subterfuge. He often says that when a man's beard becomes gray enough that he can be seen at ten yards during a new moon, he has become too old for espionage, and that point he has passed many years ago. Instead, Gregory is the mastermind behind the operations of this ring, and is the de facto leader.

Next to him on his right sits Nikolaos, who is the youngest son of a moderately influential and fairly wealthy merchant in Constantinople, and stands to inherit very little of the family fortune. It is therefore that he turned to less than honorable pursuits. His famous name and fancy clothes can get him through the front door of places where the other spies would have to sneak in and not be seen by anyone while inside. This is very useful for him, for he is far from being a master at subterfuge, but is quite well adept at craftily manipulating people in conversation, and is very capable of realistically portraying many different identities. He is always sent when polite negotiations or questioning are required, and is also good at blending in with an upper class crowd, for he knows at least when to laugh and when to react, even if the subject matter is philosophy or poetry. He also knows enough classical Latin to follow along if some should decide to switch to it to prove how smart they are. Though he can blend in with a stationary crowd, he is rarely expected to follow and observe anyone. He is effectively the second in command.

Next to Nikolaos sits Pavlos (Pavle), who comes from the land of the Serbs, only son to a minor Serbian knight. His mother died at childbirth, and his father in battle against the Bulgars when the son was aged eleven. Having no particular reason then to stay at his home, he left and eventually wound up in Constantinople. Being on his own from a young age, he has acquired a resourcefulness that only a few possess. It is said that he once stole a fancy tunic embroidered with gold from a rich man while he was wearing it in the middle of the market in broad daylight. It fetched a good profit. In his thirties now, he has acquired many skills befitting a spy. He can gain access to any building short of the Imperial Palace, he can follow and observe people for weeks without being noticed, he knows how to use the shadows to his advantage, and at night he is said to be invisible. He prefers to work alone and does most of the subtle work for the group.

On the other side of the table, on Gregorios' left, sits Eirene (Irina). Eirene is a Slav from the far north, though even she is not sure exactly where. Her village was raided by Varangians when she was little, and she was carried off and sold as a slave. She was taken to Kiev, where she escaped, and stowed away on a merchant ship which took her to Constantinople. She is the youngest in the group, though fully mature and wise beyond her years. Unfortunately, it is impossible for her to remain inconspicuous in a crowd, for the Greeks are not used to seeing people with such a light complexion and hair. Of course, this can also be used as a distraction, and anyone who makes the mistake of looking into her eyes quickly becomes oblivious to his surroundings. However, since no one who sees her face will ever forget it, it makes her difficult to use in this way more than once without drawing suspicion. She is an expert at very subtle seduction, and can use it well to obtain information, as men tend to be quick to trust her, usually to their own demise. She refuses to sleep with anyone to obtain information, but feigning a small bit of interest is enough for most purposes.

Across from Gregorios sits Ajax, who was named Dorotheos by his parents, but no one who values the structural integrity of his collarbone calls him by that name. A native brigand of Constantinople, his stature fits his nickname well. He spent several years in the Roman army as an infantryman, but left after Manzikert and returned to Constantinople. He is the one who is sent when most impolite negotiation or questioning is required. Sometimes he is sent when there are people who know too much, or whose actions are being adverse to the group's activities. In general, he is useful when anything that requires a complete lack of tact needs to be done. Oddly enough, he can be used to follow people, even though he is conspicuous, because people are more than willing to assume that he just happens to be walking in the same direction as them if that means that they won't have to confront him about following them. He scares small children and also fully grown adults.

These are the members of the Spyridon Mikellides spy ring. They can be hired to spy on anyone, and are currently working on three cases, the nature of which I would rather not write lest it be considered adverse to their activities. They are good, but they are expensive. Finding them is difficult, but not impossible. There is a pub somewhere in the city away from the main roads, near the Wall of Constantine. It is not easy to find, but once you have found it, you will know it, for it has the letter μ painted on the door. You must come there on a tuesday evening, and stay until it closes in the third hour of the night. When you are asked to leave, ask to see Spyridon Mikellides, but do not expect anyone to know who you are speaking of. Having done that, leave and stand near the door. Eirene will come presently, and feigning prostitution will ask you to join her. This is done so as to not draw undue attention, for it is a common occurrence in that part of the town. Now this is important, for it is the point at which most contact attempts fail, you must respond in the affirmative without any emotion. You must not smile or say anything else, and you must certainly not touch her. If you do this right, you will be taken to Nikolaos, but will otherwise be taken to Ajax. Nikolaos will be interested in discussing espionage opportunities with you, but Ajax will generally not.

flyd

06-08-2008, 02:18

Constantinople, 1081

The Mikellides spy ring was thus assembled in council. Here follows the transcript of their meeting, the part that deals with the case of Apionnas Vringas, of interest to many.

Gregorios: Yes, very good. Now then, what of Apionnas Vringas?

Pavlos: I've had a few breakthroughs in the observation. I did myself observe him through a window of his house, praying in the manner that Muslims do. This explains why he often returned to his house in between errands, I think they are required to pray often.

Gregorios: Yes, it varies with sect, but can be five times or more per day. This information will be very useful to our sponsor.

Nikolaos: It will, and it will make him want to sponsor us further. He mentioned to me that he needed proof. I do believe his goal is to get this man expelled from the Senate, if only to ensure that he is not an Egyptian spy.

Pavlos: Proof will be difficult. He seems to be skilled in subterfuge himself. I think he is aware of being observed, for he has began to engage in what can only be described as counter-espionage. He has began taking random paths to places he normally goes, and sometimes suddenly changes direction while walking in the street, and then hurries away, looking back to see whom it has prompted to do the same. I doubt he has much blatant evidence laying around his house either, and I doubt I would survive the encounter if he should catch me sneaking in. It may be worth a try if he is ever away from his house at night, but that has not happened yet as far as I was able to see.

Gregorios: Well, it seems like a time to reduce the observation activities, it will become more difficult to gain anything if he becomes aware. Continue to have someone observe his house, and look for an opportunity to sneak in if he is away by night. Keep the observation only at a distance to see if there are any new people he interacts with, for I think we have passed the stage of initial observation. Before we move on, is there anything else you observed?

Pavlos: Yes, I was able to overhear one of the conversations with his Arabic friends. I thought it might be in Arabic, so I did bring Nasir with me, and we sat near them in a pub as they discussed. They were quiet, but from what Nasir was able to pick up, they are considering returning to Egypt, with his friends pushing for that decision, while he wishes to stay in Constantinople.

Gregorios: Excellent, this will be of great interest to our sponsor as well. Now then, let us speak of future plans. He has not been very careless in public, and we will have to get to the people around him. His family is right out, I think they would just report to him any approach we made to them, and same goes for his Saracen friends.

Eirene: That leaves Anna Komnena then.

Gregorios: Indeed, I don't believe we have seen him interact with anyone else, which is fine as there is great potential in getting information through Anna. I doubt she would wish to cooperate with us directly, however.

Ajax: Those guards are always around her. They were certainly close enough to hear when we saw Vringas at the church.

Gregorios: You know one among them, Alexandros was it?

Ajax: Yes, he was with the Varangians in the Manzikert campaign. He did once at that time challenge me to a fight, and --

Eirene: Oh, come now, Dorotheos, you've told that story a hundred times. You're big and bad, we know.

Ajax: Yes, well, he is one of the captains among the Varangian Guard now. I've dealt with him a few times since, he can be persuaded as long as it allows for his own advancement. I had a drink with him a few weeks ago, and he was complaining that someone else was promoted to the overall Varangian commander, while he was stuck in charge of the women's quarters in the palace. I think that's good for what we need him here for.

Gregorios: Interesting. He might be willing to help us if we can get him promoted, and we just might, for the easiest way to get promoted in the military is if your superior is shown to be incompetent. If he can get some trustworthy men, and he probably can, to be in Anna's escort at one point, we may conspire with him to let us fake an assassination attempt in public. We might come close only to be stopped by his soldiers at the last moment. This could easily lead to the dismissal of the current commander, and furthermore, would make the next one keep a very, very close eye on Anna, and thus be able to hear everything if Vringas should decide to meet with Anna again. In return for our help in getting him promoted, Alexandros would report this information to us. This is definitely an avenue we should explore.

Nikolaos: I agree. There is one more avenue we may have. After we saw Anna and Vringas, I looked to acquire information about Anna, and was told something of interest by the Theodosian ring. It seems they observed one of Anna's servants out and about late in the day, and meeting in secret with a certain Senator, whose identity they did not wish to reveal to me. In any case, they claimed she was one of Anna's closer servants, and were certain from their observation that she was conspiring behind her back. They did not know what her name was, but they know what she looks like. They said they would be willing to send a man who saw her so that he might point her out to us, and then we may contact her.

Gregorios: Excellent. Nikolaos, write letters addressed to Alexandros and Anna's servant that might compel them best to help us. Ajax will deliver the letter to his friend, and Pavlos will observe the palace with the man who can recognize Anna's servant, so that he might hand off the letter to her if they see her.

Eirene: Excuse me, but does it make sense to go through this much trouble to spy on Anna, the Princess, just to get information about a lowly Senator who may not even wish to see her again?

Gregorios: Ha! No, not if taken at face value. But spying on Anna may have its own benefits beyond what information we may collect about Vringas. Anna is very popular, and that makes information about her valuable. Ostensibly, we are collecting information about Vringas for Sir Ampelas, but if in the process of this and with his sponsorship, we have the opportunity to collect information about Anna, that is not an opportunity we should pass. It is once we have information that we might find persons wishing to purchase it, and I somehow believe that finding such persons will not be overly difficult. But I was going to suggest another avenue we might attack, which involves Apionnas directly. Would you be willing to attempt to befriend him, given what we know about him thus far?

Eirene: Yes, I have no particular objections. The only issue is that he might be leaving on campaign soon, as the Senate session is about to come to an end.

Gregorios: Indeed, that will complicate things. Let us see what we can make of it in any case.

With that, the discussion of the case of Apionnas Vringas ended, and they began discussing other matters.

Conspiracy includes AG and TheFlax

TheFlax

06-09-2008, 02:34

For a better understanding of this story, read the related post in the Hippodrome first.

The Hippodrome, Constantinople, 1081

Anna rushed through the corridors that led to the Kathisma, having just received word her father wanted to meet her there. She found it odd, yet had no reason to doubt the message, and had wanted to change her clothes, as she was not dressed for the public, but the servant had been most insistent. She wondered what was so pressing that her father could not wait for her to at least get dressed in something more appropriate.

Once Anna arrived at the Kathisma, she was utterly confused, for no one was to be found. She would have been less suprised to see someone else than her father than simple emptyness. She looked around, in case she had missed something, to no avail. Was this some sort of jest? She would get to the bottom of this, first Kalameteros had wasted her time and now this!

Her outrage was curtailed by approaching footsteps. Was it her father? She turned around swiftly and was horrified to see a servant with a knife in hand. To her credit, she did not scream out, but in fright she stepped back until she came upon the railing behind her. The killer advanced on her purposefully, his face carrying no expression.

Knowing she was doomed, Anna glared at him in defiance. The man returned the stare with cold brown eyes, promising her only death. He was right next to her, ready to end it all, his arm ready to strike. Anna stood against the railing, unable to say a word, she was paralysed and accepted the inevitability of her death. Yet, when it was time, the man hesitated. She would never know why, but it was that moment of hesitation which saved her.

Something smashed into the back of her attacker, pushing him into her. She felt the sharp pain of the knife in her left shoulder and sank to the ground. Gasping, she desperatly clutched the weapon with her right hand and tried to pull it out, in vain. Blood flowed in her clothing and onto the man on top of her. She watched her rescuer as her rose, it was Alexandros! She sobbed and chuckled in relief as more varangians arrived, taking her and her attacker back to the Palace.

Written in collusion with FLYdude.

Privateerkev

06-09-2008, 02:44

This story is a collaboration between TheFlax, Ramses II CP, YourLordandConqueror, BananaBob, and Privateerkev

A few weeks later:

Over the past days of travel, Anna had gotten used to the rhythmic swaying of the dromon carrying her to Cyprus. At first, reading or writing of any kind at almost been impossible, but with proper self-control, she had adapted her senses to compensate for the odd movement. Seated at a solid wooden table and illuminated by three large candles affixed to it, she had spent the last hours immersed in a book about naval warfare. The choice had seemed appropriate at the time and once she understood the basics of the subject, the rest came easily enough.

In her mind, she could now clearly picture Arab vessels outmaneuvered by dromons using their lethal Greek fire to potent effect. The vessels instantly took aflame, their crews screaming as the unquenchable fire made its way everywhere, tearing down sail and mast alike in a terrible incendiary blaze. Two of the unfortunate crafts veered wildly off-course and...

Anna jumped as she heard a solid knock on her cabin door. Calming herself and taking a deep breath, she called out in a confident voice.

"Enter!"

The door went half-open before stopping so she could barely see the head of the dromon's captain. His tone showed is apparent discomfort in dealing with her.

"Highness, we are arriving in Cyprus very soon and should be docking in mere moments."

She needed only to nod for him to retreat back to deck of the ship. Placing the book back where she had found it, thinking it sad she would probably never have the opportunity of completely reading it. Remembering how in her last visit on the deck the wind had blown away her veil, she secured it tightly. For this day she had chosen a silk robe of pastels ranging from a light pink to an equally light blue, embroidered with light yellow motifs, giving her a less somber look than when she last met Makedonios.

As she appeared on the dromon's deck, she gazed upon the island of Cyprus for the first time as well as the fishing village in which the ship had docked. This was a drastic change of scenery from that of the capital, to say the least. Nevertheless, Anna was not one to be attached to greatly to the comforts of imperial life and found she appreciated the calm scenery. Sailors carrying her two chests in tow, she made her way off the ship and unto the dock, hoping to notice someone who had been sent to greet her.

Makedonios walked down the dock dressed in his nicest plain nondescript clothes. His heart had lept when he received Anna's letter saying that she was coming to Cyprus to tour the island. He looked forward to a chance to finally talk to her again face to face. But that would have to wait.

He saw her standing on the dock looking as radiant as ever. Walking over to her with a warm smile on his face he said,

"Your Highness, welcome to Cyprus. I trust your voyage went well. We should go to the ChapterHouse so you can rest and get a good meal. Plus you can meet the other men in the Order. While we have all taken a vow of chastity, and are not used to female visitors, you are the Princess and they will be honored to meet you."

Anna closed the gap between them and gave him a heartfelt smile in return, before greeting him in a soft voice.

"Makedonios! It is good to see you once more. I trust you have secured us transportation? I must say I am famished, sea voyage fare does not agree with me."

She montioned Makedonios to lead her all the while signaling the sailors carrying her luggage to follow.

"I have indeed. This way. And you will enjoy the food. Being on an island does have the advantage of having readily available seafood. Also, I have made preparations for your security. There are seven Order members with each over a dozen personal guards. I also command 5 regiments of men garrisoned in the nearby castle. Nothing short of an army invasion will threaten you while your here."

A short trip later, they arrive at the Order's ChapterHouse and go inside.

Vissarionas ek Lesvou is standing just outside the Order's Chapter House entrance discussing a task he has for Rafi, his errand boy. The child is still grubby as young boys tend to become, but his old clothes have been replaced with more suitable garments during his travels with Strator Vissarionas and his cheeks have filled out with health. Though he still does not officially carry any token of service to the Order he is wearing a marker on each shoulder indicating his loyalty to the nobles of Lesvou.

Upon noting the approach of the Grandmaster, Vissarionas immediately thought that he should dismiss Rafi and issue a salute. Then he became aware of the Princess.

Several moments pass in which both boys are struck dumb, before at last Vissarionas recovers his manners and kneels in the manner of a soldier, on one knee there in the street, with his head bowed and his eyes firmly on the ground. Rafi instantly follows suit, dropping to both knees and bowing his head so low it is a wonder he doesn't overbalance himself and fall prostrate to into the dirt.

Silently the two wait, far enough back from the entrance as to not draw too much attention, as the Princess and the Grandmaster pass into the building.

Then, grinning like a kid with a pocket full of candy, Vissarionas nudges Rafi and says,

'I think that was the Princess Anna! My God, I've never seen anything so lovely in all my days...'

Rafi is still struck dumb at how near the royal lady passed, and can only gaze at his master in delight.

Shaking himself back to sense, Vissarionas' face takes on a thoughtful mien, and he kneels to whisper to Rafi,

'Take this purse and go down to market street. There should be some of the flower ladies out by now, and I want you to buy every flower they have available, then engage their services to bring them here and arrange them along the stairs. When the Princess departs she should be enveloped with the wonderful smells of the rich variety of flowers available on the island. In particular you must secure a quantity of athanatos, as the locals have it, the undying flower in celebration of the Princess' eternal grace and beauty.'

'Go now Rafi, this must be quick work, I've no true idea how long she shall be within!'

As the boy scurries off in the direction of the markets Vissarionas steadies himself, brushing imaginary dirt from his rough, simple clothing, and walks up to the doors. Before he can enter, however, he must again visibly take hold of himself. Then, with a warm, slightly foolish looking smile, he ducks his head and steps inside.

Makedonios walks the Princess past his kneeling Sergeant and a small boy. I'll have to ask Vissarionas about that later, he thought.

Entering the double doors of the ChapterHouse, they arrive in the Grand Hall. Seeing that dinner is not quite ready yet, Makedonios turns to Anna.

"Sorry but it will still be a few minutes before dinner. If you want, I can give you the grand tour. There isn't much here except this hall you see, our sleeping quarters, a small chapel, and weapon storage. We do have a library though. A lot of the books were left over from when the island was held by the Muslims."

Anna smiled lightly at the mention of a library and the possibility of books she new nothing about.

"The library would suit me best, I am intrigued to see what sort of collection you have amassed."

Makedonios talked as he walked her towards the library.

"Sure thing. We have books in Arabic. We have many on the Levant. Books on Byzantine history. I think a couple of my men are in there now. The Order is a "bookish" lot even though we lack formal education."

As they walk in, Anna sees a large room with bookshelves lining all the walls and some freestanding shelves in the middle. There are a couple of seats by a fireplace that are occupied by a couple of Sergeants who are too lost in their reading to notice who has entered.

It was not the most impressive library she had seen but it was indeed well stocked. Ignoring the men already in the room, she walked slowly beside the row of books nearest to her, taking notice of each title. Without turning she addressed him in an oddly dismissive tone.

"Arabic you say? I know not that tongue."

Then, pausing to face him she added more cordially. "Do you have any recommendations? In Greek of course."

Noticing that she seemed to be feeling out of place, Makedonios remembered something that was in the library.

"Hold on, I think there was something left here by the previous owners."

He walked over to one corner in the back and reached up to the top of a shelf where some parchments were. Taking one down he walked back to Anna.

"This was left here by people who used to rule this area. I am not exactly sure what it is. I walked around the island looking for some of the older scholars and I came across an elderly Arab who spoke Greek. He said he believed this page came from the Cypria. I'm not quite sure what that is. I'm sorry but we're venturing outside of my knowledge base."

Makedonios carefully handed the sheet over to her.

Taking the text gently, Anna moved nearer to a source of light in order to examine it thoroughly. After a few moments, she seemed willing to comment. Instead, she furrowed her brow in deep concentration and fixated the text, losing herself completely in this literary relic.

Makedonios silently stood at a respectful distance as she looked at the parchment. He liked seeing the studious side of her but he kept his face neutral.

Iakovos rubs his eyes, and finally looks up from his book. He nearly jumps when he sees Makedonios and the Princess inside the library, but he quickly regains his composure. Standing up sharply, Iakovos salutes the Grandmaster. "Forgive me, I hadn't noticed your entrance m'lord." Iakovos bows deeply at the Princess, asking in a curious tone, "May I inquire as to whom visits us with such noble bearing?"

It seemed at first Anna had not understood him for she was still focused on the text before her. A minute or so passed silently by, before she realized they were waiting on her to say something. Turning her gaze on the newcomer, she observed him intently, straining for recollection of his words.

"I..." She stopped, having no idea what he had said. Anna looked to Makedonios, her expression clearly asking for his help.

Makedonios quickly picked up on the cue and spoke,

"Sorry, I did not want to bother either of you while you were reading. Let me make introductions. This is one of my Sergeants, Iakovos ek Kallipoleos. Iakovos, this is Her Highness, Princess Anna."

Pointing at the other man in the library,

"Your Highness, the other man in the chair over there is still buried in a book about the mathematics of siege engines and he is Nathanial ek Korintou."

Anna produced a practiced smile for the sergeant in front of her.

"A pleasure, Iakovos. You must also be wondering why I am here?."

Iakovos smiles warmly. "Indeed. Why have you come to the humble headquarters of the Order? I would hazard that it is not for literary enlightenment, our library is still quite small, and I am sure you have read most of them. I of course have been through all of the books, so if you if have any interests, I can easily find it for you."

"I wished to meet for myself the brave men who will join Makedonios on his expedition to retake Antioch, for the Empire and my father." She gave a sidelong glance at the whole of the library. "As for your library, even in a haystack it is possible to find a gem." To emphasize her point, she nodded at the text she held while finishing her last sentence.

Iakovos peered at the book Anna held. "Is that the Cypria? A treasure indeed, although not comparable to some of the things the Imperial Library has. I have not read deeply into the Cypria as of yet, I reserve such works until I have time for myself." Iakovos turns to Makedonios. "Grandmaster? I have the plans for the church ready, and we have the workers. With the money we will receive, we can begin construction immediately."

Makedonios looked pleased at the news.

"Good good. All we need then is for the Emperor to approve of the project. As for the Cypria, I'm afraid we just have a page or two. It is pretty hard to find from what I hear."

Turning to Anna, he explained, "I'm letting Iakovos administer the castle. He has a better head for this stuff than I. One must not be too proud to delegate." With that, Makedonios smiled while a little embarrassed.

Anna nodded dismissively, she cared little for architectural planning. Handing back the fragment of text back to Makedonios, she queried him politely.

"I would believe the deipmon is ready, will your sergeants be joining us Makedonios? I will share my examinations of this text with you over a hearty meal. "

Unflappable as always, Makedonios replied calmly,

"You'll have to forgive everyone. They're all busy planning for the campaign. I've arranged for it to just be the two of us."

He stepped aside and waved gently with his hand towards the door.

"Shall we?"

Anna nodded once more and headed for the door, easily finding her way to the dining room.

By the time they had gotten back to the great hall, everything was ready. One table had been prepared for two. An array of seafood was laid out along with a plate of Cyprian cheese.

Makedonios pulled a chair out. "Your Highness." Anna sat down and he walked around to his side.

"I didn't know what you liked so I had a bit of everything made up. There is a good assortment of seafood. Calamari, Octopus, and sea bass. I was able to get steak over here in case you don't like seafood. The local cheese, Halloumi, is a delicacy around these parts. And of course there are vegetables. I apologize at the lack of fruit. We have a hard time bringing it in and it is too expensive for people on the island to afford. Also I hope you like mint, we tend to flavor everything with it. If not, I made sure one of everything was made without it."

"Oh yes, for a drink, we have tea, both minted and without. Water of course. We don't have any wine. None of us drink."

Anna gave him a genuine smile of appreciation.

"You've thought of everything it seems."

Glancing at the various foods assembled she wondered at which she would taste first. She eyed the calamari and octopus with interest, before focusing on the cheese.

"I'll simply have water. Will you lead us in prayer before the meal?"

"I'd be honored."

Both bow their heads and Makedonios leads them in a short thanks to the Lord for their bounty.

The prayer over, Anna eyed the assembled food as a famished predator. Quickly she made her choice, waiting for Makedonios to serve her.

"I'll have some of the octopus and that cheese you said was a specific food of this island." Pausing, she changed subject. "The text you showed me was a fascinating read, although I am as of yet unsure if it is authentic or not, something in the style of writing is off. If I have the opportunity, I will most certainly study it further."

Makedonios served food onto Anna's plate as he asked her what it was that was fascinating about that particular document. He enjoyed the chance to talk to her about something that had nothing to do with politics or the Senate.

Privateerkev

06-09-2008, 05:26

This story is a collaboration between TheFlax, Rowan, and Privateerkev

And a week after that:

For a week, Makedonios's and Anna's entourage toured the countryside of Cyprus. The Princess wanted to visit the people of Cyprus and they were more than happy to have her. Since the island had been retaken from the Arabs over a hundred years ago, the people of Cyprus had felt as if they were treated like a backwater post of the Empire. Having the daughter of the Emperor visit with them helped dispel some of those hurt feelings.

But, surrounded by guards and servants, Makedonios and Anna had not had a chance to have a private talk. Tonight he hoped to change that. He purposely made sure the last stop on her tour was his a strip of land that he owned over on the northeast corner of the island. The group rode up to a gate that was guarded by members of the army units that were stationed on Cyprus. He turned to the Princess,

"Here we are your Highness. I know we've been wanting a chance to talk to each other the whole time you've been here. I've made extra precautions to ensure privacy and security. Beyond that gate is my private beach. It is guarded at all times and is private property. Being the lord of a province does have it's privileges. I have men patrolling the area and due to the terrain and landscaping, it is impossible to peer in from the outside."

Makedonios gets out of the carriage and holds out his hand to help the Princess down.

Anna took the offered hand and gracefully steeped out of the carriage.

"How thoughtful of you." She gave him a smile, waiting for Makedonios to lead her to the beach.

First Makedonios leaned over to one of his Sergeants, "Vartholomaios, your in charge of the guard. See that no one makes it through the perimeter." The Order member simply nodded in a way that showed quiet competence.

Makedonios then led Anna through the gateway. Going down a path lined with bushes, they came out onto a hill overlooking a beach. The beach was the very northeastern tip of the island of Cyprus and commanded quite a view.

"This is where I come to think. Beyond the horizon is the Holy Land."

Anna stopped to take in the view. She realized this place must be why Makedonios is always so calm and controlled, one could truly lose himself in the peaceful scenery.

"I believe I've never had the pleasure of enjoying something quite like this." She looked around, as if searching for something out of place. "It is so quite and serene here, thank you for sharing this with me Makedonios." She did not usually thank anyone, for all services rendered to her were only part of the order of things. Yet, this time, she felt it was appropriate and necessary.

Makedonios bowed his head slightly. "It is my pleasure. I thought you could use the chance to relax a little after everything that has happened."

At the mention of the attack on her person, she unconsciously moved a hand over her left shoulder, where the blade had struck her. Even though she maintained a smile, the memory of that event brought her pain that could be seen through her eyes.

Realizing what he brought up, Makedonios regretted his earlier comment.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you. I wish I could have been there. At least your scar is somewhere that can be covered up."

With that, he points to his face where a gash can clearly be seen.

At the mention of a scar she shook her head lightly.

"You misunderstand, the wound itself does not bother me. What troubles me is what it represents... How will I ever feel safe again in the Palace?"

Anna was on the verge of breaking down, but managed to hold her composure. Nevertheless, her voice conveyed sadness and bitterness. "Why would anyone wish me harm?"

The question was not entirely truthful, she had her suspicions. Yet, she found the whole thing terribly unfair. What had she done that warranted her death?

Makedonios nodded. "Your right, the real wounds are within. I still have nightmares about the day I got my scar. All you can do is face your fears. Or they will control you. As for who would wish you harm, unfortunately the list of suspects is probably rather long. For better or worse, you are seen as a route to power and leverage against your father. Those who wish to hurt him, have reason to hurt you. Those who wish to stop you from getting close to their political enemies, have reason to hurt you. I wish I had better answers."

"I suppose you are right." She sighed. "Let us forget about that, dwelling on it will do me no good. Let us enjoy the moment." Without saying another word, she led Makedonios closer to the sea.

Nodding, he followed her and watched the waves wash in for a moment. Finally he turned to her.

"There has been something I have been wanting to tell you. I want you to know I have developed feelings for you. Now I don't expect anything and I'm not asking for anything. I'm sure you have enough going on right now. But I felt you needed to know. I've come to realize what a wonderful person you are and I have started to care for you. A lot."

Anna jerked around suddenly to face him, as if someone had just struck her. Anguish was evident in her features as she slowly backed away from Makedonios in denial.

"No... not you too. No!"

While many men might wilt or plead, he just stood there calmly. He shook his head.

"It's not like that. This isn't some infatuation or play at power. And it certainly isn't a marriage proposal. This is simply how I feel. Others see you as some prize to win. I don't see you that way. But I do care for you and I thought you deserved to know."

Anna stopped and tried to swallow back her emotions while a hint of sadness crept in her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because if there will ever be honesty and trust between us, that kind of thing can't remain hidden. I'd basically be lying to you every minute of every day. And I won't do that." To punctuate it, Makedonios shakes his head while saying the last sentence.

"Yet, you know it cannot be, you with your oath and me with my duty. I appreciate you Makedonios, but I will never be able to return the feelings you have expressed."

With that Makedonios smiled.

"You might learn the hard way that feelings aren't so easily commanded. You feel how you feel. Do you think I would have chosen to feel this way? To be so conflicted with my faith? To scare someone who I have been starting to feel is a friend? As for my oath, the Order's Charter actually has a provision for this possibility but it is moot if you don't feel the same way. It is enough for me that you know the truth."

Anna looked down, almost in shame.

"Nevertheless, your candor pushes me to examine what I feel. I fear if I look too deeply into myself, a river of emotions will pour out, flooding all reason. My... my feelings must remain irrelevant if I am to perform my duty. All I can say is that I have not yet met a worthier man to marry..."

She was in turmoil, unsure of herself. These last month had overwhelmed her and have profoundly changed her life. She turned her back to Makedonios, wishing he would not see her growing distress and confusion.

With pain and sorrow evident in his voice he spoke,

"I'm sorry your duty forces you to ignore your own feelings. In some ways, I feel you have a harder job than I do. No one asks me to deny who I am."

The words made her reconsider her statements. It was not impossible for her to have feelings for someone else, but until she was married, it would make things unduly complicated.

"If your feelings are true then you should ask the Basileus for my hand. As a wife I will love you, as a princess I cannot..."

For once, something she said finally shocked him. His mouth gaped a little bit before he could speak.

"But I won't do that until I know you feel the same way. Maybe it is not important to some people. But is important to me. Your not the only one with duties. I have a duty to the Order. And while there is a provision that will allow me to continue to serve them, it would be in a very different capacity. I have started something with them and I need to follow through on it. I won't change that unless the person I care for feels the same way about me."

"If you don't feel the same way about me now, I understand. Then we move on. But if you did..." Makedonios left the sentence hanging there. It was clear that the answer from her could change both of their lives forever.

Anna looked to the vast expanse of the sea, trying to find her focus. She wanted him to ask her father for her hand in marriage, yet she owed him the truth.

"I do not know myself what I feel. I like you very much Makedonios, but I do not know what love is or if I have any. The only thing I can say with certainty, is that I would rather have you as a husband instead of any other. Isn't that enough?"

Hearing those words from her made his heart melt.

"Yes it is. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your honesty with me. That was a very brave thing you just did."

All of a sudden they were interrupted by Vartholomaios who was walking up the path. Makedonios said to him, "I thought I gave orders not to be disturbed."

His Sergeant just handed him an envelop with the Emperor's seal and walked back to the gate. Opening the letter and reading it, Makedonios looked up.

"In light of what you've just told me your Highness, you definitely need to know this. The Emperor just gave the navy orders to move my Order to Antioch... immediately. I must say, I am surprised to get the orders to move so quickly. It seems your talks with him on my behalf might have helped."

Anna faced him once more. "I told my father you would be a staunch supporter of his if he granted you that fleet. Did I err?"

Makedonios shook his head no, "No, you did not err. But I didn't think it would work. I was under the impression that he didn't like me very much."

"But I thought you had to know that I am leaving soon. I'm a soldier. If you still want me to ask your father, I will ask him for your hand. I have no idea if he'll actually agree to it. But you have been brave for me so now it is my turn."

Anna took a few steps foreward, returning closer to Makedonios. "At worst, if he denies you, things will stay the same as they are right now. You should not fear in asking him, you certainly won't be the first and I doubt he will take offense."

Makedonios nodded.

"Your right. It's better that we got this out in the open between us, no matter how it goes."

Anna looked back to the sea. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to take the time to enjoy this scenery I will soon have to leave." With that, she took slow steps towards the deep blue expanse. Once she was near the water, she sat down and simply stared into the horizon.

Makedonios followed her down, and while maintaining a respectable space in between them, he sat down next to her.

Ignoramus

06-10-2008, 08:37

Western Anatolia, 1083

Ioannis nodded with satisfaction as the rebel flag was lowered and the gates opened. So far, either the sight of their Caesar or of his modest army was sufficient to recapture rebellious cities without a fight.

"First Brusa, and now Cyzicus. It appears that we shouldn't have much trouble reducing Canakkale." remarked one of Ioannis' retainers.

Ioannis smiled as he turned, "Yes, but it's taken us over a year just to restore Mysia to Roman control, and what have we to show for it? Certainly nothing of strategic importance. So we march on Canakkale, or I should say Dardenellia, which is vital to Constantinople's defence."

_Tristan_

06-10-2008, 22:24

Methodios had set up camp with his men on the side of a small hillock. The top was crowned by a stand of trees, granting enough cover to get a good view downslope to the village without being seen.

The slope leading down to the village was covered with almost uncrossable terrain, thus making sure that no shepherd would lead his beasts this way, providing Methodios and his men the perfect shelter the sought.

Durazzo... That was the name the Italians had given to the town, unable to pronounce its Greek name of Dyrrakhion...

Methodios was crouching in the bushes, observing from the top of the hill, the militia drilling in a field just outside the city limits.

The wind sometimes carried to him the orders from the captain leading the exercise, full of the lilting Italian accent.

The men seemed Greek for the most part, though many of them were dressed in the more gaudy Italian fashion, leavig Methodios in doubt as to their origins.

"It will be almost too easy... Those men don't stand a chance in a fight... I hope their captain sees sense and surrenders" Methodios thoughts were interrupted by a noise of rustling leaves nearby. Not bothering to move, knowing that it could only be one of his men, he was nevertheless surprised to see that it was Adrastos, one of the men he had left behind on is way from Thessalonica, to warn him of any followers.

For Durazzo might be an almost worthless village, but some people would like to use it to make a political statement and this at the cost of its mainly Greek population's lives and few riches.

This Methodios could not bear... That was not the Empire he had served his whole life... He would protect them whatever the cost... Hence the Edict he had proposed in the Diet and that had created such a ruckus... Here was proof that he had stepped on a few people's toes.

Turning to face Adrastos, he said :"What news ?"

"Strator," answered Adrastos, with a fist to heart salute "I have observed Neokaisareitis. He has taken a more southernly route and does not go a fast pace, he may still veer for Dur..." stumbling upon the word " Dyrrakhion but I think he may be headed for the coast..."

"What of the others ?" asked Methodios

"They are headed this way, though they are burdened by a baggage train that slows them down. They should be here by tomorrow evening at the latest."

"By Achilles' heel !!!" Methodios sweared. "Have you seen any Imperial messenger headed this way?"

"No, not one..."

"Go back to camp... Get some food and wine... You earned it"

Saluting once more and with a grin spread across his face, Adrastos turned on his heels and went down towards the hidden camp, leaving Methodios to ponder his options.

"The Basileos has been quite clear. Dyrrakhion is off limits to anyone unless expressly ordered to capture it." Methodios considered. "Though I respect his will like God's will, I fear that Arianitis and Monomachos, if not Neokaisareitis, may force my decision."

Taking a last glance at the militia maneuvering down on the plain, Methodios reached his decision and walked back to camp.

"Orders or no orders... Tomorrow, we ride to battle..."

Smowz

06-11-2008, 20:26

Aegean sea 1083:

https://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x62/Smowz/naval1.jpg

Answering the call of his house and indeed the will of the Basileus, Nevoulas ek Philadelpuis has settled in for the voyage across the Aegean sea toward Rhodas. Never the best of sailors Nevoulas watches his fellow noble Ioannis Kalemetros who is looking far more comfortable preparing his men with logistical details of the siege. Nevoulas has already had his instructions from his superior commander in this case and now ponders the last hectic few years that have got him on a boat to an outlying settlement at sea.

He looks out as he seas the coast of Anatolia in the distance and thinks of lost friends and loved ones. Dead at the hands of the invading Turks… not that Nevoulas had any long lasting resentment towark the Seljuks it was not his nature to hate despite the obvious reasons to dislike.

Indeed it was now 12 years since he lost his father at the Battle of Manzikert in 1071.

https://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x62/Smowz/manzikert-1.jpg

He recalls it now when the information had arrived home near Athens, his father dead and his only brother missing. His emotional mother took the news badly and indeed it was a great shock as all previous information had been more than positive. We had heard great things from letters from my father who had risen to prominence has a high ranking troop in the royal guard of Romanos IV. So much so in fact that our family name was beginning to have some capital in the Roman empire, so this news was a shock and very sad.

My brother was listed as missing, I would assume dead and after no further news over the next few months I felt confident that he was gone. My mother however was adamant that my brother Makedonias was still alive and would some day ride over the hills and return home. I recall arguing constantly with my mother – moments I bitterly regret now she has passed away. We were still on bad terms the last time I saw her – she was right too the old goat. Alas I was a headstrong young boy of 12 when I rode out determined to find news of my assumed dead brother back then.

That was my first experience (and I hoped the last) of a voyage across the seas. The sea that day had not been so calm, it was as if god himself was sending me a message. As much as it was clear now with calm waters that Rhodas was within my destiny it was clear then that Anatolia was not meant for me.

My servants that had the misfortune to follow me on my headstrong crusade had urged me not too attempt a crossing when the moon was reducing its light. But alas I thought I knew better – why should I be afraid of the Aegean?

The seas were choppy and ill-prepared for the navigational difficulties of the crossing we soon lost our way. A crossing that should have taken a couple of days ended up nearly taking a week. We would arrive wearily on the shores of Anatolia.

https://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x62/Smowz/362487082_3c9bdd5d4a.jpg

I expected for some reason to just turn up on the shore and have some idea what to do next and was completely unprepared for the size and scale of Anatolia. From the letters my father had sent me it all seemed so easy to find his way around – I had taken into account he was part of a large organized army and here I was with little water no food and a handful of servants.

I let out loud uncharacteristic laugh the idiocy of it all seems all to clear now – my bodyguards look alert…. An impatient Ioannis looks at me sternly.

‘Our wandering daydreamer returns, I wonder is it some brazen beauty in Athens that has your attention Nevoulos’

I mutter at the indignation… rise to stand with a repost, but stumble as the watery motion catches me unawares…

Another one of Ioannis bodyguard shouts ‘no sire, no women of Athens would settle for such a man, I bet it is some wench from the capital who took him roughly he recalls’

To which my bodyguard now rises…

Myself and Ioannis stand quickly ‘Enough’ we say in unison. To quickly dispel any disunity Ioannis calls me over to discuss battle plans further.

Smowz

06-12-2008, 22:23

Rhodes 1084:

https://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x62/Smowz/RhodesLindos.jpg
Nevoulas ek Philadelphuis and his bodyguard are camped outside the main settlement on the island. He had been dismayed at the state of the once great island of Rhodas and whilst they had a useful fortification that himself and Ioannis Kalematros were now besieging the rest of the island looked underdeveloped and neglected.

He had heard fantastic stories of a huge Colossus that once stood on the shore facing Asia Minor defiantly and magnificent centres of learning and trade. Now this mixed race island seemed to have lost their way – from what he could see there were many isolated communities all over the island lacking direction or centralisation. It disgusted him and reminded him very much of Anatolia back in his teenage years, the horrors of those times still taxed Nevoulas greatly.

https://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x62/Smowz/colossus_of_rhodes.jpg

He recalls the times he had spent as a young teen roaming from town to town western Anatolia. It was a difficult time for young Nevoulas, who was shocked at the completely small minded naivety of the peoples who populated these towns. They would have the cheek to call themselves Romans but freely frolicking in barbarian ways, mixing and frolicking with all manners of colours and creeds.

Time after time Nevoulas was turned away from administrators and governors who seemed more interested in decadence then matters of the state. The mention of the battle of Manzikert had got me sharp looks for sure from the local residents, but they regarded it as something far removed from them. I could not believe their passive feelings toward what was surely such an important event. Even worse my funds began to run dry, my loyal servants and even myself had to scrape together finding work wherever we could find it. It was a difficult life and whilst it would harden me into the man I was today, there was no doubt I was living the life of a peasant back then.

I would work my way eastwards across Anatolia in this manner and eventually I would pick up tidbits of information here and there about the aftermath of the battle of Manzikert. I had been able to realise at least that many of the survivors had been taken prisoner by the Seljuk’s including the emperor himself. It had surprised me further to learn that some of these prisoners had been released and some had settled in Trebizond. I had mixed emotions at the news, I knew now a place I had to get to, to get hard quality information. After several months of picking up hearsay here and there it was a relief to have such a solid lead. But already questions were forming in my mind, why were loyal soldiers just ‘settling’ surely they were now deserters? What of the others, what price had these ‘settlers’ had to pay for their release?

Nevoulas shakes his head clear of questions from his past that he has long since answered as he hears some commotion up ahead. It is yet another attempt from the from some locals to travel through the blockade towards the cities. It is quite blatant that they are attempting to carry food through to the people held up within. They look confused as the bodyguards relieve them of their wares, unaccustomed to the ways of a rudimentary siege warfare it seems. He cannot believe the foolishness of these people, feeling almost pity for them he moves over to inspect the goods, looking forward to fresh feed. The long siege of Rhodes continues.

Smowz

06-13-2008, 23:02

Rhodes 1086:

The siege continues, Nevoulas ek Philadelphuis and his bodyguards are beginning to find the going tough as stubborn resistance fighters continue to hold up inside their fortifications. Isolated out here on Rhodes and now its seems supplies are beginning to dwindle. Nevoulas and his guards have been allowing the commander and his troops access to the prime foraging spots, the thin pickings elsewhere has led to the men beginning to use up some of the surplus supplies.

Despite this mood remains spirited, the close relations better Nevoulas and Ioannis Kalematros is helping and both the young strators are excited by news of conquests elsewhere in the empire. Indeed the two have been discussing a great many things of Imperial ways in particular the politics.

Nevoulas I fear your shy and retiring ways will not gain you much currency in the senate

Nevoulas frowns, this has been a familiar topic of Ioannis and he has been pressing Nevoulas about his lack of involvement in the Senatorial discussions in the last couple of chats they have had.

Like I have said Ioannis I preferred to keep quiet on the floor of the senate last time, I believe much energy was wasted by some strators venting nothing but hot air. I prefer to watch and wait…

Nevoulas watches Ioannis as he steps up and grabs the jug of wine and pours deliberately into Ioannis cup…. Nevoulas knows that Ioannis is not satisfied with this answer and sure enough…

Come now Nevoulas, now that I have come to know you better, you have a far greater understanding you let on and beneath that quiet exterior is a deeply thoughtful and passionate fellow. You have spoken of your pride of your position in the senate but you sat there as timid as a mouse. Sorry to be hard on you here but if you have a story to tell lets hear it.

Nevoulas heart flickers, his past is not really something he wishes to reveal to anyone he is unsure that he can trust. However the long siege has enabled him to get to know Ioannis really well and he is certain he can be trusted.

My friend you have been pressing me about this for days you are correct I do have a story and I do wish to get it off my chest if you have the time and the patience to listen to me tale.

Ioannis lets a satisfied grin appear on his face. He says

You and I have plentiful wine and this siege isn’t going anywhere tell me what troubles you so about the politics of the imperial world…

Nevoulas takes a large gulp of wine

Have you heard of a place called Trebizond, it is deep in the heart of Anatolia…

Trebizond 1076

My long travels across Anatolia had brought me to this point. I was about to enter through the gates of Trebizond. I had decided that if I could find no further information about the fate of my brother I would now turn back home. I was entering my 16th year and it was occurring to me that my mother had been left to run our modest estate near Athens for some time now and I was beginning to realise that there truly was nothing but desperation awaiting me at every turn on this godforsaken land mass.

I had seen several disturbing things in my times travelling, I was increasingly appalled at the apathy of Roman citizens and their simple surrender to incoming settling tribes. Waves upon waves of Turkish immigrants were moving in and seizing neglected lands and settling in the areas. No-one seemed in the slightest bit bothered that these people were here illegally and encroaching on rightful Roman land. Landowners seemed content just simply to pick up sticks and retreat to townships.

Upon entering Trebizond I was now no longer surprised by the distinctly un-Roman feel to the place. After a few days of starting to ask around about the whereabouts of soldiers from the battle of manzikert, I was pointed in the direction of a fairly well to do district of the city. Here, I would have the luck to meet a man who was a member of my father’s century and whilst the fellow did not know my father or brother personally he could get me an audience with the governor of Trebizond who had given much support for the great battle.

As I wandered around the district I would meet more veterens of the battle of Manzikert, these men I regarded with mixed feelings – I knew them to be contempliaries of my father and many looked tough war hardened soldiers. But their seemingly care-free manner bothered me, did they have no concern for the empire. My mind was full of questions and I resolved to get the answers. But every time I started a line of questioning I would be waved away or shouted down. It seemed my young years and fresh face gained no currency with these would be deserters. Perhaps I thought I would get the information I sought from the governer.

I walked into his dwelling with anger and bile swelling through my veins, therefore I was taken aback by his friendly nature. ‘Young Philadelphius’ he said ‘Your father was indeed a great warrior, I miss him greatly. It pleases me so that you would join me at my court’. I was taken aback by this, I wondered what to say I had come to his palace full of questions but I realised after spending some days in the mans company again I would have to bide my time as the governor would repeatedly bat away my questions.

Ioannis would interrupt me here…

So you do not stand up to say anything for you fear no-one will listen he says

That in part may be true I reply but it is what happened next, which is why I choose to keep a more reserved counsel. Nevoulas replies

Anyway here I was now because of the governors respect for my father I was accepted at his court. I thought if I stuck around and gained in influence I may come across a veteran who would give me the answers I sought.

Things came to a head at an emergency counsal meeting when news of a large Seljuk army would be approaching the city. This was my first experience of senatorial type politics and I assure you Ioannis I was anything but quiet then.

It was a gathering of the best of the veterans certainly nowhere near as grandiouse as the Magneura but close enough for a boy of 17 years as I was by this time.

I recall lamenting the veterens, laying into their laziness and apathetic attitude towards imperial matters. They wished to barter a peaceful solution with the Turks, I asked why make a stand, there must be armies back closer to home that can be brought forward to chase off these fiends. They would laugh at my niaviety. Later the governer explained that these men no longer were bothered or had any faith in matters from the Capitol, in fact he had said neither did he. I looked in shock, I was seeing the complete break down of the empire in these parts

Nether-the-less the next day it seemed as if my words had caused some inspiration as 2/3 of the veterens would show up in full battle gear and were fully prepared to fight. It was as if my enthuisiasm had turned back the clock for these men and had reminded them of their duty and Roman pride.

Ioannis was looking more eager now… interrupted again

You have fought against the Seljuk Turks!!! he exclaimed Nevoulas I am impressed

Ioannis there is more to say Nevoulas looks sadly as much as I wished this to be an inspirational moment, it is a time I look back on with deep regret, my lustful battlecries had just signed away many men’s death.

I don’t understand he says

SIRS an excited bodyguard enters the tent We have message from the mainland…

I will explain another time Ioannis Nevoulas says to Ioannis, to which Ioannis nods thoughtfully.

OverKnight

06-14-2008, 04:49

A cooperative story by TheFlax and myself.

Thrace, 1083

A plain carriage escorted by a few men sped through the Thracian countryside, making good time on the uneven dirt road. The reunion with her father would soon be upon her as she had been assured they would arrive before apodeipnon. The eleventh hour had passed some time ago and as the minutes trickled by, she found herself increasingly nervous. It had been some time since she had last been in the presence of her father, and while she loved him dearly, she feared his disapproval more than anything else. The carriage slowed down, bringing her out of her contemplation. It was a sure sign they were nearing her father's camp.

Anna and her retinue came upon the camp of her Father as the sun was nearing the horizon. Squinting, she could see the Imperial banner flying over the Basileus' pavillion, the first structure raised when the army had stopped for the night. The camp was abuzz with activity, though the soldiers in it were a motley band. Archers from the standing army worked alongside militia from the city guard of the capital as they set up camp. A unit of peasants stood idly by, strangers to the campaigning life. As she watched, a large man, a Varangian by his dress and blond hair, approached them and began yelling at them in accented Greek. The serfs scurried about and began to dig the ditch and embankment that would surround the camp.

Having put the peasants to work, the Varangian, clad in scale mail with a massive two handed ax strapped to his back, turned to the new arrivals.

Bowing his head, he spoke to her, "Ah Princess Anna, the Basileus has been expecting you from Miklagard. I'm Captain Harald Sigurdsson, leader of his bodyguard."

Anna simply nodded to the man.

"Head up to your Father's tent, I'm sure he wishes to speak to your Highness right away."

Anna found Aleksios huddles over a map table with his subordinates. In the field, the ornate wear of the court was stripped away and he was dressed as a soldier, though with exquisite armor and fine leather boots. A purple cloak, the color of royalty, was the only indication of his rank.

Looking up from the map, the Basileus noticed the entry of his daughter, "Gentlemen, you are dismissed, I need to speak with my daughter alone. We will discuss tomorrow's march later."

The men filed out and the Basileus approached the Princess.

As her father neared her, Anna bowed curtly. "As per your wishes father, I came in diligent haste."

Aleksios embraced her, "It is good to see you Anna. I hope the trip from Constantinople was without trouble?"

Anna returned the embrace, "It was uneventful, if a bit uncomfortable."

Aleksios grunted, "Be grateful you are still in Thrace, the roads in other parts of the Empire have degraded to the point of being non-existent. Yet another decline we will have to address."

The Basileus motioned his daughter to a seat and sat down opposite of her. A small smile crossed his face.

"Of course, you do have first hand experience of this. How was your trip to Cyprus?"

So, he would start with Cyprus. Very well, Anna thought, there is nothing to hide about that. Of course, she would avoid the topic of Makedonios until her father brought it up.

"The trip went well, the sea was calm enough and Cyprus is under good governance. The population seems content, I forsee no problems coming from that province. If you wish it father, I will put my observations on paper for you to review at your leisure."

Aleksios raised an eyebrow.

"Ah. . .how uneventful. Perhaps you could then enlighten me as to why Makedonios Ksanthopoulos has written to me and asked for your hand in marriage?"

She shrugged. "He is not the first, is he?"

Aleksios laughed, genuinely amused.

"No, he is not. However, he is the Master of what is essentially an armed order of Monks. He'd be violating his newly established laws by marrying you. You must have made quite an impression."

The amusement passed, and the Basileus spoke more seriously.

"Anna, I have given you some leeway in who you would choose as a husband. I have not dictated who you should wed. However, you are the daughter of an Emperor. Your actions are watched, your companions noted and men will vie for your attention. Some do so because they are moved by attraction, others power or both. Your behavior, fairly or not, reflects on all the Komnenoi and the Throne itself. If you show a preference to one House, others will assume that I favor that House. Our family is new to the Purple, if we upset the balance too much, we might find ourselves sharing the fate of Nicephorus.

"I ask you to tread with care among the Bachelors of the Empire."

She paused an instant, taking in fully her father's words.

"I have tried to please them all equally father. I will not hide my feelings from you, if I had to choose a husband at this instant, it would be Makedonios. Yet, I maintain a facade of interest for the others, even those I profoundly dislike. I have not forgotten my role as your daughter."

Aleksios sighed, "Of course not. Though I am not overjoyed to hear this about Makedonios. I'm not sure if his venture into the Levant will end well for the Empire as a whole. Even if you did marry him, that marriage would negate any hold we would have over the Order, as according to its laws he would lose his leadership. We would lose a Grandmaster and gain, at best, a Comes.

"Perhaps you think this cold hearted? There is always a political component to marriage at our rank. If I had not married your Mother, a Doukas, I would still be a Strategos. I needed their support to gain the Throne, and my marriage to Irene secured that. Your Brother has forged a House from that alliance. Marriages are the currency and contracts of the Nobility.

"The day may come when you will be asked to do the same for our family. For the Komnenoi to establish a dynasty, we need to do more than just rule well, we must bind the nobility to us. Marriage is part of that."

Aleksios looked stern, but sympathy played along his features as well, "Do you understand?"

Anna hid her dissappointment at being still treated as a child under a veneer of meekness. "Yes father, I will do my duty and marry the man you choose. Our Lord has given us each a destiny, if that is mine, then I shall be content with it."

The Basileus' mouth quirked and he rubbed his forehead.

"Of course, but do not worry. Any marriage will not be for some time. As soon as you choose someone to wed, the other, spurned suitors might resent our family, might even plot against us. As long as you remain unwed, this will not happen.

"As long as there is hope that they might woo you, they will strive to do so, and that will be to our benefit. They will be on their best behavior and they might even share some secrets with you in an effort to impress."

Anna's expression quickly changed to disbelief.

"But... father! I am fast passing the proper age to be wed... and still you wish to wait?"

A flash of exasperation crossed Aleksios's face.

"It will happen soon enough. But first, I need your assistance on another matter. Both the Senate and myself agree that the Empire must expand to the west and east, our traditional lands. To secure our northern flank while this happens, I feel it would be best to reach an alliance with the Hungarians. Our diplomatic corp is sadly understaffed, yet I must send someone to whom they will listen, whose presence will honor them and who is talented in diplomacy and negotiation."

The Basileus smiled, "Someone like you, my dear."

She simply nodded "Then I leave at the first hour of hemera, tomorrow. What are the terms you wish me to convey?"

Aleksios replied, "Trade, alliance and an exchange of maps will do. I hope that the Barabarians will be so overawed by our offer that you'll be able to have them pay for the privliege, but make the best deal you can."

The Basileus shook his head ruefully.

"It pains me that the Empire has to stoop to this, but we must face facts, we are not what we once were. In time perhaps, but for now. . ."

Anna lowered her eyes. "...We do what we must. I know. Father, I feel I have no choice but to bring back the issue of marriage. If you want me to bear heirs to for our family we cannot tarry. You might not want to hear this, but you will have to choose someone soon, else my suitors will get disenchanted by the extended wait. Already some of the girls look at me differently, I am getting older than it is proper and no man wants to marry a wife who has seen too many springs. They'll all wonder why I didn't get married sooner, then rumors will spread that I might be barren or worse."

She let the words hang for a moment, her fearful expression revealing that she could not live with such a shame on her shoulders.

"Besides, you married mother when she had but fifteen springs."

Aleksios leaned back in his chair and contemplated Anna over tented fingers. After a pause he spoke again.

"You are a Komnenoi, you will do your duty for the family and the Empire. I understand your position, but an alliance with the Hungarians is the most important priority at this point.

"If you are in a rush to be married, the Hungarian Prince is a bachelor. A marriage to him would cement the alliance for sure."

The Basileus rose and spoke again, "I wish you a good journey, Anna."

The young woman seemed about to lauch a retort, but held her tongue. Instead she bowed.

"I will pray for you father, return to us safely." With those words she took her leave from the Basileus' tent.

Aleksios watched his daughter depart for a moment. Then, turning back to the map table, the Basileus barked for his subordinates. There was much to be done.

Ignoramus

06-14-2008, 06:33

Mysia, 1086

The sweat dripped from the weary soldiers' faces as they staggered, rather than marched, towards Nicaea.

"With all due respect, Caesar, I have seen better roads in rubbish pits than this mess!" gasped Anatolius Laskaris, a veteran soldier who rode with Ioannis, "Must we rush back to Nicaea? After all, we have only just restored Roman rule in Dardanellia."

"Ah, my good Anatolius, always eager to get into battle, but in your aged years, you don't appreciate the toils of campaign as much." responded Ioannis, "We must return to Nicaea so that Strator Chrysovergos can set out on his expedition. I will not have the second city of the empire exposed to the Turks."

"Yes, but surely we could have waited until the roads, rudimentary as they are, have been cut?"

"No, time is essential. The Turks will not be idle, and we are as yet still very weak.

Smowz

06-15-2008, 20:19

Trebizond 1076:

Dust is whirling around in the distance, Roman veterens are steeling themselves with anxious looks on their battle scarred faces.

Nevoulos ek Philadelphius stands in his borrowed combat gear rather nonchalant towards the whirligig of activity. What is the fuss about? He asks himself, we stand here as Romans about to do battle to correct the wrongs of years ago. We are infinitely superior to anyone else or so he had been brought up to believe anyhow. He turns to a grizzled soldier to his left and asks:

Why the fuss over a simple sand-storm?

The soldier looks in astonishment at me. I wonder if he is wondering about my aristocratic accent and stance, I realise that this probably comes as a shock to him and the governor of Trebizond will be equally as shocked to see me return later as part of a victorious party of troops. Yes, there will be no standing on a nearby hillock for Nevoulos, I am to gain the glory and wonder of combat.

Young pup the soldier replies Look closer and prepare yourself that is no mere sand-storm, can you not hear the unmistakable hooves of the Seljuk Cavalry. That is the enemy.

He points as the now much closer dustbowl approaches – I can see snarling faces of mounted men through the dirt. My mind explodes in blind panic as I begin to step back.

What – send out a tribune explain we are not ready!!!

I am shouted down as from the back a loud general lets out a huge shout.

Hold the line there spears up… prepare yourselves men. Fight, fight to the last man….. For Rome…

A half hearted shout of For Rome echos down the line.

For Rome I thought, what the hell was that. I wonder where is the long monologue of a general telling his troops of the superioty and might of his troops, listing the vices of the enemy. This is not the battle lore I had read about back home in Athens. I realise here and now the stark truth, that I am part of a ramshackle disorganized rabble that is about to be slaughtered. The men around me look out of shape, hungover and grim. Worse still, it was me that has instgated this moment and my foolish words back in the safety of the walls of the city.

My knees are literally knocking together now as I look up the enemy is nearly upon us. I would turn and flee but men are pushing at my back I have literally nowhere to go. I desperately hold my shield over my head and cower behind spear hanging uselessly by my side. A warm trickle is felt down my left leg as I lose all control over my faculties as now feel a huge weight crashing in front of me. Screams and slashes are all around me.

Suddenly I regain some sort of composure – accepting my fate, I resign myself to go down fighting. As the weight releases from me I cautiously peer out from behind my shield, a head rocks back as an arrow clips my ear of my bare head. I saw little but a cloud of arrows falling around me, I raise my shield and cower beneath again. Arrows thud into the shield, I have barely the strength to hold the weight as again and again they hit.

I am forced into the dusty sandy ground, blood now pouring from my arms, knees and from somewhere in my head as once again fear and my own mortality take over the thoughts in my head.

Mother, Father… I cry pathetically I have failed you

Fortunately the men around me are too concerned with their own vulnerability to hear my shameless mewing. Once again I am able to recover my composure for a second to realise the rain of arrows have stopped. No sooner have I regained my footing is the weight of a second cavalry charge felt immediately ahead of me. The force pushes our thinned line back and over, as the man ahead of me is pushed up and over me, I fall aback my shield arm knocked back…

I scream as a horses hoof pins my hand that was holding my spear to the ground, the accompanying crack turns my face white with agony. As the horse moves on I roll with my shield toward what looks to be a cluster of still standing, heck still alive men . Woth my limp hand a dare to reach out and grab a fallen comrades helmet to offer me some facial protection. Ignoring the shooting pain from my hand I place it awkwardly on my head and desperately claw toward the survivors.

Before I get there I am cut off as more horseman surround me, a nearby horseman takes his bow and looks me in my eye and suddenly stops before he can launch his lethal shot, instead he offers his hand as if to rescue me. I look back at the man completely dumbfounded…

Nevoulas take my hand shouts the rider in perfect Greek.

I realised at once that this must mean some sort of surrender, quivering at the fought of what depraived acts may be forced on me by the Turks I spit to the floor and shout defiantly.

**** off Turk, I’d sooner you kill me then be taken prisoner.

The rider looks in despair and in the heat of the battle surprises me further by reaching up and removing his helmet to reveal fully a face of a man that looked very familiar.

Wha….

I shook my head, it cannot be I thought, it must the battle or some kind of Turkish witchery of some kind.

Nevoulas please now take my hand my brother or you shall surely die….

…..

Rhodes 1087:

I wake up with a start, sitting up straight sweat pouring down my face. I had the dream again I thought sombrely, the recurring nightmare of that day had lived with me since. It is a mixture of shame my part in so many Romans death and the shame of a turncoat in my family. I stand up and move away from my still sleeping bodyguard around me.

The siege of Rhodes still continues, the news that had been received from Kosmas the governer of Athens has sent men to help in a final assault on the Hold that we need to take to fully control the island. Meaning it would soon be time for battle once more. Not that I feared battle or cherished it, I had fought several times since Trebizond infinitely more successful, but still that bloodbath somewhat haunted me.

My own brother I reflected the traitor. I recall his explanations to me as I was held prisoner in the Turkish camp. I abjectly refused to accept his line of reasoning, that the days of the Roman empire was gone and that he had come to realise and believe in a new force, the force of the Seljuk Turks, the force of Islam. I remember his fond preaching’s of how lenient and tolerant they were toward us prisoners and how I too could become like him a general in the army.

I snorted as I stared blankly at the night sky, their leniency and tolerance allowed me to escape. I realise that this goes against my feelings somewhat. In fact my resolve and thoughts on the Islamic Turks has softened considerably since that day as I have learned more of them and their faith. Still I am somewhat defiant about my brothers’ messages of the Turks plurality, I had come to realise that as it stood he did have a point. The Roman Empire was indeed a shadow of what it once was.

Not for long though I mused and now smiled to myself, as here myself and Ioannis Kalematros stand on the brink of success on Rhodes several other acts of expansion has taken place. The Roman Empire was indeed on its way back up and not as you said my brother a dying corrupted disease.

You were wrong to desert us Makedonias, you betrayed your family and your heritage, I WILL right your wrong. I say out loud to nobody in particular.

I take a seat on a nearby rock as I look at the garrison of Rhodes that had frustrated us so

… and you people of Rhodes will soon feel our force…

_Tristan_

06-16-2008, 17:06

OOC : This is the first installment in a series I intend to do about the past of Methodios...
I have six or seven parts written so far and should post one each day during the week, barring any unexpected difficulties...

Hope you enjoy them...

Wild Turkey’s chase
Cilician Armenia, September 7th 1071

Columns of smoke rose above the small barren hills of Cilicia. The breeze carried the smell of cooking, horses and latrines. This were the first telltale signs to Tagaris that he was finally approaching the camp of Tarchaneiotes’ army.

A week past, as a young Topoteretes, he had been sent with his small retinue of men to scout the area and try and locate the elusive Turkish forces. Though they are rode through miles and miles of barren and mountainous country, they had found no clue to the presence of that Muslim army.

No messengers from the main body of the army under Basileos Romanus either.

Not finding any sign of that army was not that worrying, seeing how most of it had been marching to Manzikert to be met by Romanus’ main corps. But the Basileos’ agents at the Sultan’s Court had claimed that this was a lure and that a second Turkish army would catch Romanus’s army from behind, playing hammer to Sultan Alp Arslan’s anvil.

Tarchaneiotes (and Methodios with him) had been dispatched from the Tagmata to try and engage the second Turkish force, in vain.

Finally reaching the centre of the camp where Tarchaneiotes’ tent was dressed, Methodios got off his horse and gave the reins to one of his men. Tarchaneiotes came out of the tent. A burly man of forty and some years, he bore a large black curly beard, only partially hiding a constant scowl from a wound he received fighting the Normans in Italy while still young. Standing at attention, Methodios gave his leader a military salute.

“Topoteretes Tagaris reporting, sir”.

“Topoteretes, at ease”, replied the general. “Your report ?”

“Sir, no sign of the Turks… We rode north and came rounding from the west, according to orders and have not seen the least sign of their presence.”

A silence followed.

“Permission to speak, sir ?” Tagaris asked.

“Granted” answered Tarchanieotes.

“Sir, do we have confirmation that such a force truly exists ? If it did, we surely would have seen some sign, any sign of its presence… It is as if…”

Seeing the glare in his commander’s eye, Tagaris let his voice trail off.

“Are you implying that we are on a wild goose chase? That we have been betrayed?” grunted the general.

“Yes… Ha… No, sir…” Tagaris answered, totally unsure as to what answer was expected of him.

“Dismissed, young man… And don’t go spreading those tales around camp. If I catch only a rumour of this, I’ll make personally sure you end up with kitchen duty for a month…”

“Aye, aye, Sir”said Methodios, giving a sharp salute, before taking his leave.

******

TheFlax

06-17-2008, 04:04

Bran, 1083 to 1086

Hungary, a barbarian kingdom which thinks too highly of itself, its crude language is only matched by its equally crude table manners. Their women have loose morals, wearing tight dresses and leaving their hair exposed for all to see; even the so-called noble ladies share all their meals with the men and travel the streets whenever it fancies them, forsaking their dominance over the household. Their leaders are uneducated, hunting in the hemera and reveling in the hespera, most of them shirking from the duties of their station. As for their rites, they are uninspired, riddled with mistakes and uttered in that barbaric tongue, latin. Their architecture reveals their innate insecurities, with their narrow roads, small houses and tight rooms; only those who fear their enemies, be they spies, assasins or invading armies, would confine themselves to such a restrictive environment.

- Hungary: Politics and Culture by Anna Komnenos

The sun still dominated the afternoon sky when the princess' carriage arrived at the castle of Bran. In a short amount of time she was through the gates and then was lead to the inner courtyard of the castle proper. There she found a small procession waiting for her, nobles she presumed by their attire. As she stepped out of the carriage they each gave a curt bow before the lord of Bran made himself known. He was not a tall man, for he barely surpassed her own height, and had a stocky build. His receding hair was black, turning to grey, as was his ample mustache. His small beady brown eyes shone with an inexplicable intensity. A translator had accompanied Anna to facilitate communication.

"I bid you welcome to Bran, princess."

Anna nodded and smiled at the reaction of the assembled men. They had expected her to be richly dressed in an effort to impress, instead she had emerged with plain traveling clothes and it seemed her veil had also taken them offguard. Vainly, they tried to peer at her features, but only met her determined and demanding eyes. With this arrival, she had showed them they were not worthy enough for her to take her time grooming herself properly. She would reserve that for the King.

"I take it you have arranged a suite for me?"

It was the man's turn to nod politely.

"Very well, you may take me there." With those words she signaled her escorts to follow her with the luggage.

The assembled men were shocked she hadn't even acknowledged them and yet found themselve cowed by her strong presence, none of them protested when she was led away by the lord of Bran himself. As she made her way through the castle with him she probed him with questions.

"When will your King see me?"

Her host smiled faintly. "My lord the King is a very busy man, at the moment he is campaining against some rebels who have forsworn their allegiance to the crown. He will meet with you as soon as possible, my lady."

She gave a few short nods, chiding herself silently. "Of course, it is still campaigning season. I should expect him in the following months then?."

The man waited they had passed nearby servants before replying. "That sounds, plausible."
She had little time to reflect upon that choice of words, for they had arrived at her suite. At first she thought this was some sort of jest. The two rooms combined were smaller than her bedroom in the Imperial Palace, with floors and walls in rough stones covered by a few rugs. They had omitted to even give her a desk and a small cot in the waiting room seemed to have been placed for her confidante. She was about to complain, but her host gave her a proud smile, indicating he thought only the best of these accomodations. She took little time in settling herself in the cramped suite and immediately turned her thoughts to what she would do to occupy her time in the coming months.

------------------------

Weeks turned into months and still there was no audience in a foreseeable future. Instead I spent my days in my room or in the company of Lord Miklos. In my first week, I scored a victory securing myself a desk. At first, Miklos seemed bemused as to why I would need one, until I pointed out that I needed to write letters in order to keep my father appraised of the situation. At once he congradulated me on being able to write, apparently very few women of high rank know how to write in this barbarian kingdom. Now at least, I can spend my day writing instead of wandering in the castle's dreary hallways. I also find myself wishing I had come here more prepared, while bringing texts and book would have been useful, a fork would have been a far more important item. Not only do we feast on peasant fare in most hespera meals, but I had no choice other than to demean myself by eating with my hands. Need I mention I could not find one single piece of interesting literature in the whole of Bran? And that was not for lack of trying. Truly, I have breached the frontier of the civilised world.

- Memoirs of Anna Komnenos

Anna had taken to wearing relatively plain clothes until she would meet the King, besides, since she lived in what amounted in her opinion to servant's quarters, she might as well dress as one of them. By now, most of the nobles thought her a simple and pious woman, for she prayed frequently, and somewhat naive. She saw no reason to change their erroneous perceptions of her person. She smiled warmly as she entered the study of Lord Miklos and he returned the smile, as it was customary. Inevitably, she asked the same question she had the previous morning and all of the mornings in the past month.

"Lord Miklos, do you have any news of the King?"

With a well rehersed sigh, Miklos responded, as always.

"No, my lady, I have heard nothing of him yet. Perhaps tomorrow..."

This time Anna had enough, she refused to spend another worthless day. Yet, she strived to keep an unintelligent facade to make those barbarians overconfident. She would have to lead him where she wanted.

"I tire of waiting, unable to accomplish the mission my father gave me, perhaps we could do something in the absence of the King?"

Miklos sat thoughtful for a few moments, before rising. "My lady, we cannot proceed without the King, I do not have the authority to make any official arrangements."

Anna nodded slightly. "Yes, I know, but can't we do anything? Could we not make preperations?"

Again Miklos appeared thoughtfull, he seemed to be getting what she hinted at. "We could... possibly... make a draft of a proposition?"

The princess beamed. "That is a wonderful idea! Let us get to it immediately then."

Pulling a quill from her belt pouch, she took sheets of paper from his deak and asked him for ink. It took a moment for Miklos to react before complying and before long they got to work on a proposal to the King of Hungary. Quickly, Anna took back a more submissive role, letting him take the lead in the negociations, or so he thought.

--------------------

More than two years passed before I had the opportunity of meeting the King of Hungary. In that time I mastered their language, with help of my translator, and continued writing. Lord Miklos took great interest in me during my prolonged stay and as he fashioned himself a scholar, he took it upon himself to teach me his knowledge for he thought me smart enough for a woman. He did not realise I already knew most of what he tried to teach me, and more, for I indulged him to keep appearances. I often thought back to my tutor as a young child and tried to recall the questions I had asked then. When I realised he was glad to answer each of them, I redoubled my efforts to ask more of them. It didn't take long before he introduced me to his wife, a young woman a few springs older than I. Apparently it was his third and I omitted to mention he would surely be punished in the afterlife for such a crime, for diplomacy's sake of course. I was aggravated to discover she took a certain liking to me, taking me for her younger sister she recounted to me each piece of gossip she had heard. At first, I had hoped I would gain something from these conversations, but soon realised she knew only about minor lords or rich merchants. The amount of adultery going on, if her sayings were true, disgusted me profoundly. I had not thought the people at our borders to be so degenerate.

- Memoirs of Anna Komnenos

Anna walked slowly to the main hall of the castle, the King had finally come after almost three years of waiting and she would have him wait for her. This was a small revenge she would take and was also part of her strategy. The waiting would have unnerved a lesser person, but in Anna's case, it only sharpened her determination.

Once she had waited long enough, she entered the audience hall and keeping her eyes on the floor, she bowed deeply to the King of Hungary. Mutters circulated throughout the room and as she rose, she gazed upon her opponent in the upcoming negotiations. It took all of her self-control to repress the smile creeping on her face. The King was dressed in fine attire but she had completely overshadowed him. Her white silk robe was heavily embroidered with rich purple motifs and brocated with gold filigree. In addition, she had forgone the use of a veil, replacing it with a small golden crown studded with many large gems.

In the most humble voice she could muster she addressed the barbarian king in a flawless Magyar, to the surprise of all assembled.

"Your Majesty, I am Anna Komnenos, first daughter of the Basileus of the Roman Empire. I have come at my father's bidding and in his name to negotiate an agreement between our two people."

The flustered expression of the King was all she needed to see. Check she thought, referring to the game called chess.

The King took precious seconds to recover before attempting to take back the lead. "Erm... yes, I have read the draft of the proposal you established with Lord Miklos. It is acceptable, save for the omission of compensation. I do think 10 000 gold coins would do nicely."

Anna locked her eyes in his and gave a satisfied smile. "That is agreeable, but there is one small thing I wish to ask. » She waited for the King's face to light up with a radiant smile before continuing in a serious voice. « Will you pay us with solidus or your own currency?"

The King's face flushed as anger took over. "What do you mean? You could not have misunderstood me girl!"

The princess remained calm, to let emotions take over was a sure sign of defeat. The battle was over and that fool didn't even know it. Her tone became harder. "Tell me then, your Majesty, why should the Roman Empire compensate you for accepting our terms?"

Unable to keep his calm, the King rose and glared at her. "You came to us with this proposal, thus it is clear you are in need and are the weaker party in this discussion."

Anna permitted herself a faint smile, this was too easy. "The weaker party? The Roman Empire might not be what it once was, but it has been an established power for as long as history itself. On the other hand, you Kingdom has not even seen a whole century. You have no allies because all your neighbors look down on you, not so in the case of the Roman Empire, who comes to you as an equal. Furthermore, need I remind your Majesty that Constantinople is a center of trade and that while we can find other trading partners, you will find no other with such a trading center. By trading with the Roman Empire you will have access to goods from around the known world."

She let her words sink in, prefering not to pressure the King too much, he was already on the brink of being lost to her. To her relief, he sat down while considering what she had said. Finally, after a tense silence, he pronounced himself.

"You show much wisdom in your words and I will consider them. We will continue the negotiations tomorrow."

Anna simply bowed deeply once more, before taking her leave. Tomorrow, he would try to seize the advantage again but he would fail, she had broken his confidence in their first encounter and he would not recover before the treaty was signed. His greatest mistake had been giving her almost three full years to prepare for this single day.

---------------------

Glad the negotiations for the day were over, Anna returned to her suite. She was eager as ever to leave this uncivilised city that sorely lacked any kind of manner. As she entered in her bedroom, she was so caught up in her thoughts, Anna almost missed Verina quickly hiding a letter behind her back.

The princess tilted her head to the side, as if trying to see what was behind her servant.

"What are you hiding?" She asked curiously.

Verina shrugged somewhat nervously. "Its... nothing."

Anna laughed softly. "Come now Verina, we have no secrets, show me."

The older woman hesitated slightly before handing over the letter to Anna's waiting hand. Unfurlign it, she browsed through it, instantly recognizing it was addressed to her and came from another of her servants, Eudoxia. Anna never got a chance to actually read the letter for Verina immediately bowled into her, knocking the princess to the ground. Anna blinked repeatedly, trying to focus her vision. She felt oddly dizzy and lightheaded; a sharp pain emanating from the back of her head.

She barely got time to get back her bearings before the rough hands of her servant wrapped themselves around her small neck. In vain, she clawed at her confidante, seeking to release the tightening grip. A leisurely life of reading and writing had left Anna substantially physically weaker than her servant, and thus her struggle had little effect as she felt her consciousness slipping away.

In desperation, Anna groped for the small pouch at her waist and pulled out a letter opener. She stabbed wildly at her assailant with what little strength remained until the improvised blade dug into something. As the chokehold loosed, Anna's vision cleared in time to see Verina's smirk turn into a panicked shriek, the improvised weapon stuck in her left eye. By the time the princess had more or less regained her senses, Verina had already left the room in blind panic.

Anna rose slowly and her vision blurred again, pain lanced through her head and she stumbled forward, still trying to catch her breath. Advancing to the bed, she passed her hand through her hair and felt something wet. She stopped for a moment to look at her pearly white hand, it was sullied with blood. She only had time for a quizzical expression before collapsing on the bed.

--------------------

When she returned to the negotiations, Anna appeared unphased by the traumatic event that had nearly killed her. Nor did she seemed troubled to learn that Verina had died while trying to escape. In perfect control of her emotions, she finally arrived at an agreement with the King of Hungary on the following day. There would be no compensation, on either side, and already the King was taking to his newfound friendship with the Roman Empire.

Anna for her part made it no secret she was to leave in haste. She was more than ready to return home and put this unpleasantness behind her. It had only been two hours since the agreement had been finalised and already her carriage was speeding away from Bran, carrying back the disgruntled princess to the civilised world.

_Tristan_

06-17-2008, 09:04

The Dirty Dozen
Cilician Armenia, September 7th 1071-September 8th 1071

Leaving the tent Methodios joined his men by their camp fire. Those were the men he had been living with for two years now. Men that had served under his father until a Turkish arrow had taken him. The men felt as if they owed the son what they couldn’t achieve for the father.

Sitting by the fire, there was old Bjarki, the former Varangian, come from the cold northern wastes with Methodios’ father to serve for the Empire. Next to him sat Sergios, Methodios’ standard bearer. A bull of a man, short and squat, with the strength of the heroes of old. Facing him, was Nikolas, Methodios’ squire, the last to join Methodios’ bodyguard. A street urchin, he had the quick wit and quick reflexes born of necessity, almost always playing with the knives he liked to keep secreted about his person. Tending the fire was dark-skinned Adrastos, born of a Nubian mother and a Greek father, a patch of burnt skin on his shoulder where the mark of his former master had been burnt into his flesh. He had gained his freedom defending his master’s home against a Turkish raiding party and gained his freedom this way. Methodios had never seen a man who could throw a javelin so far or with so much accuracy. A little further back from the fire, tending the horses was Nikodemos. The man seemed to be able to talk to horses. Before being forced into military life, he had been a lad working the stalls at the Hippodrome, getting to know the horses and dreaming of driving a race chariot. There was also Antonios, whose mastery of the bow came from having lived his early years on the northern shore of the Black Sea, among the nomad tribes... There were also Hilarion, a never-ending scowl on his face belying his name, Antonios, Elias, and others still… Never had such a score of men been assembled in a single unit… All of them had a life-story worth of a Nordic saga or a poem of Homer… Such as those that Methodios’ father liked to tell his son the few times he managed to be home…

Those men had all at one time came to serve under his father’s orders… Now they served under him… Methodios was proud of the honor but fearful at the same time : he didn’t want to disappoint the trust these men had put in him.

Taking the bowl of food that Adrastos handed him, Methodios sat by the fire contemplating what was at work behind the scenes… For surely, there was some dark clouds brewing on the horizon.

Having eaten, Methodios rolled in his blanket, shutting out the noise of the men and horses, hoping for some undisturbed dreams.

Dawn came… A cold autumn sun cast a grey light over the camp. Fires were stoked, horses whinnied, men started about their daily chores.

Methodios woke up, put on his sword-belt and walked down to the nearby stream to refresh himself. Once done, he began practicing with his sword, gliding from one move to the other, striking down one imaginary enemy after the other.

A young soldier planted himself at attention in Methodios’ field of vision, not daring to interrupt him.

Methodios stopped and faced the young man, sheathing his sword in the same move. “What is it, soldier ?”

“Sir, the general summons you and your men. You are to assemble in full gear and join him by the command tent.” The soldier said, giving a sharp salute and turning on his heels before Methodios could answer or ask a single question.

******

_Tristan_

06-17-2008, 17:32

Judas’ Gold
Cilician Armenia, September 8th 1071

The clouds had parted and with the sun now high in the sky, heat-waves obscured the horizon. Tarchaneiotes and his men were in the lead. A small company of a barely a hundred men with Methodios’ and his men given the rearguard detail.

Nothing had transpired of their mission or their destination since Methodios had reported to the command tent with his men in full battle-gear.

They had ridden for four hours now, picking their way across this hilly and barren country.

Finally the gorge into which they had ridden some time ago opened into a large clearing.

To Methodios’ surprise, the clearing was not devoid of life. And the sight sent a chill down Methodios’ spine…

In a middle of the clearing sat a huge pavilion on the summit of which floated in the feeble breeze a pennant with a blood-red crescent on a field of green.

“Turks…” growled Sergios, right behind Methodios “By the tits of my last whore… What is this ?”

Methodios was nonplussed. They had been looking for the Turks for almost a month now, riding north and south, east and west, not even catching a whiff of their scent… And now, leaving the main force behind them, Tarchaneiotes led them unswervingly to the Turkish camp. Something was afoot.

Turning to his men, Methodios issued a warning in a low voice. “Remain vigilant and prepared to ride. Loosen your weapons.”

Seeing that his orders had reached the last of his men, Methodios turned back to see his general reaching the command tent.

The Byzantine riders spread on either side of the General’s bodyguard. As rearguard, Methodios and his men remained a bit further to the back of Tarchaneiotes.

The Turks had arrayed themselves on both sides of the tent. Methodios counted less than 500 men., still more than three times the number of Tarchanieotes’ men in the clearing. Was that the army that hoped to surprise us ? Methodios mused.

Tarchaneiotes got down from his horse as a Turkish dignitary came out of the tent, a large smile upon his face. He wore a large red black turban on his head and long flowing gold-embroidered robes, of a Persian design.

“As Salaam Aleikum, General” said the Turk, bowing low. “Finally, we meet. I am Abu Ali al-Hasan al-Tusi Nizam al-Mulk, Vizier of our Great Sultan Alp Arslan, may Allah bless his name.”

“Greetings, Vizier. Forgive me if I seem gruff but what news do you have ? It’s been a long time since we’ve had contact with the Emperor.” Tarcheneiotes asked.

Hearing the greetings exchanged, Methodios’ anguish deepened.

“You are forgiven. I have great news. All went according to plan. Diogenes has been defeated at Manzikert…” An outcry of incredulity rippled across the assembled kataphraktoi, drowning the remaining words from al-Mulk. “… and captured. Though our Sultan in his great mercy has freed him and sent him back to his own lands, along with all other prisoners.”

“Great news indeed” Tarchaneiotes answered “A nice victory for your Sultan but a victory he could not have achieved had my forces been there at Manzikert.”

“True, true indeed, General.” Al-Mulk acquiesced. “A devious plan you devised…”

Methodios had not lost a word of the exchange between the two men. Tarchaneiotes had betrayed the Emperor, taking his whole army off the main battlefield, forging a defeat out of what should have been a victory.

“Yes… A devious plan… But deviousness has a price, no ?”

“True, once again… You are not one to dally in double-talk, General. We had an agreement. You fulfilled your part of the bargain. I will fulfil ours in the name of our Sultan.”

Al-Mulk made a sign to one of his aides. Instantly, four soldiers came forward carrying a large coffer, depositing it in front of Tarchaneiotes.

“Here are your thirty pieces of silver, General…” Al-Mulk said, a wide grin on his face. “…though there a bit more than thirty of them in there, nor are they silver…” A short laugh… “But you get my meaning…”

Tarchaneiotes eyes burned with anger. The Turk had just called him a traitor and there was nothing he could do. Instead he simply said, his voice hardly masking his fury “And that other service, we required of you ?”

Methodios sat his horse, dumb-struck. Tarchaneiotes, a traitor… And for what ? Not glory, not honours but gold… Only gold… Fury welled up in him but he had to contain it. If he let it run its course, fury would destroy him (no great loss there) but he had taken the responsibility of seeing to the welfare of his men.

“That should be over as we speak. Anything else you require of us, friend ?”

Visibly relieved, Tarchaneiotes nodded. “One more small favour… I would prefer if there were not so much witnesses to our bargain.” Inclining his head to left and right, indicating the kataphraktoi standing in a line facing the Turks.

“I thought so” Al-Mulk said, raising his right arm.

Suddenly, a cry reverberated over the clearing where the Seljuk camp was set up.

“Archers !!”

The spearmen that had stood in the front rows of the Turkish lines, dropped to one knee, lowering their lances. The archers in the back rows banded their bows.

“Fire !!”

A rain of arrows shot at the lined-up horsemen, felling horses and men alike, both on the left and right of Tarchaneiotes. Methodios and his men were spared only by standing behind the General and his own bodyguard.

“Forward !!!”

The spearmen lunged from their crouching positions running for the few riders still standing, driving their spears to the horses’ breasts, making them fall thus pinning their riders, before slaughtering them.

Wheeling his horse and drawing his sword, Methodios howled to his men “Run, men !!! Run for your lives !!!”

Spurring his horse forward, Methodios drive his charger between the fast closing sides of the Turkish pincers, seeing that his men had not lost time in following but were hard on his tail. The gorge through which they had entered the clearing was the only way out.

As he neared the entrance, Methodios saw that some fifty Turkish spearmen had taken position there, blocking the way, bracing behind their shields, spear-points driven forward. Slowing his horse to a canter, Methodios let his men catch up to him, forming up in a wedge.

“Either we break them or we die trying…” Methodios said to his men.

Spurring his horse, Methodios howled his father’s battle cry “Odin !!!”

The cry was answered by twenty voices covering the noise of the horses’hooves “Odin !!!”

Methodios saw that Bjarki had placed himself on his left and Adrastos on his right.

The horses gained speed, the spear-points came rushing forward… With a bone-jarring impact, Methodios’ kontos struck one of the Turks, hurling him five feet backwards, into the rows of men positioned behind him, the momentum of Methodios’ horse crushing several men, the hooves crushing arms and ribcages.

A quick look to the sides showed that both Bjarki and Adrastos had made successful charges.

Then the line of spearmen lay behind Methodios… He was in the gorge, racing like mad in the narrow space between the high cliffs. The clatter of the horses’ hooves reverberated on the rocks, a noise of thunder, a noise of impending doom…

Coming out of the gorge, Methodios took stock of his surroundings. A brief look shown him that all of his men were still with him though one or two seemed wounded, riding slouched in their saddles.

“Let’s hope they can make it back to camp”, Methodios thought. “I must warn the others of Tarchaneiotes’ treachery”.

No chasers seemed to be coming out of the gorge but Methodios let his horse run at full speed. Not fearing for his life but fearing instead for the rest of the army.

******

ULC

06-19-2008, 04:01

Antioch, Order of St. John's encampment, 1089

Produced with a great heaping help from Privateerkev :beam:
A light breeze swept in from the sea, carrying with it the sweet scent of the Mediterranean. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a warm glow over the landscape. Iakovos shifted his weight, clearly impatient. His uncle was to have been due by now, but he hadn't shown up for the last three days, and Iakovos had grown both worried and irritated. Iakovos sighed, and motioned for Nikitas to come forth. Nikitas had the distinction of being the head of Iakovos's bodyguard, and the only full blooded Greek among them.
"Yes m'lord?"
"Any reports from Mikhail and Emin yet?
"None sir. And we haven't received..."
Nikitas stops in midsentence to watch as two of Iakovos guard lead an man in Templar colors down the trail to the camp. Iakovos shouts joyfully when he realizes it is Levon and Emin with his uncle Ulrich.

Iakovos leads his uncle through the camp to his tent, his guard following closely behind. "I am surprised that Emin wasn't able to find you Uncle, he has never let me down before." Ulrich chuckles. "You should remember my occupation Jakob. Emin is good, but he is still young yet, and experience trumps enthusiasm." Iakovos shakes his head as they weave there way through the encampment. "I'll show you to my tent first, and we can rest before I notify the Grandmaster of your arrival." Ulrich nods in understanding. "Interesting that I should find you a member of this Order of St. John. Quite a twist of fate."

Iakovos made his way to Makedonios' tent with Nikitas and Ulrich in tow, and when he met with the guards stationed outside the tent, Iakovos calmly replied to there query. "My Uncle has arrived, and if the Grandmaster is well enough, I can summon him so that we may discuss matters."

The guard nodded and went inside the tent. He reappeared within seconds and said, "The Grandmaster is expecting you. The two of you can go in."

Makedonios sat on his bed. Reports were spread all over the covers. A pile of books were on a bedside table. It is clear the Grandmaster is trying to occupy all of the freetime he has while bedridden. He smiled warmly at his Sergeant.

"Iakovos, I see your uncle was able to make it." He then addressed the uncle, "I apologize for not getting up. I seem to have caught something while camping out outside of the city's walls. It leaves me quite weak most of the time. Now your nephew here said you wished to see me?"

Ulrich nodded. "Yes, although I am sorry to hear you in such poor health, and I hope you a speedy recovery. I would have been here much earlier if my nephew hadn't been so worried he tried to track me with his men." Ulrich gives a sideways glance at Iakovos.

Turning back to Makedonios, Ulrich smiled and rubbed his hands together. "First of the many things. I do not know how much my nephew has told you of me, but I come from Hamburg, and deal in arms and armor. I wonder if you would be willing to allow me to supply you some of my finest equipment to the Order of St. John."

Makedonios thought for a moment.

"Unfortunately, we have no armorers in Nicosia and there are none in Antioch. So, I don't see any way to equip this army in bulk yet. All of the members of the Order and their bodyguards have very high quality armor already. As for supplying us directly, I fear that might not be allowed, Imperial bureaucracy being what it is. What I can do is make sure you get the contracts to supply the armor facilities with raw material when the buildings get completed. I'm afraid I can't do much for you now but in the future, we will have the buildings to manufacture higher quality armor and we'll need experts such as yourself to help us get the process started."

Ulrich smiled. "Good, thats all I'd ask for someone in your position. I can only hope that you soon have the proper facilities in place. Now, may I ask what your intention is toward the Knights Templar in Tortosa? I have business with them currently. I ask only to know whether or not I should be relocating." Ulrich smiles, then it fades as something dawns on him. "Jakob, I believe I left behind something in your tent, a letter I believe. Could you fetch it for me?" Iakovos nods and salutes Makedonios before leaving.

Ulrich turns back to Makedonios. "Now, to the meat of this conversation. I am concerned about my nephew, Grandmaster, and I think Outremer will be the death of him. I have already tried to convince to leave, but he flatly refuses me. You may or may not know he had to other brothers, both were involved at Manzikert, and supposedly both are dead. But I have gotten wind his brother Aleksios is alive, and he serves the Turks as Iskander Ajam. If Jakob where to..."

Makedonios holds up his hand.

"Please, one question at a time. Your nephew is his own man. I invited him into this because I thought such a thing would appeal to him. Every member of the Order is a volunteer. No one forces us to be here. As for Manzikert, that was a nasty bit of business. I know because I was there. There certainly was betrayal involved. I only hope that anyone from an honorable family such as yours took the honorable way out and sought a good death."

The Grandmaster stops and coughs for a few seconds.

"Excuse me. My mouth won't stop filling with phlegm. Anyways, on to your other queury. The Knights at Tortosa worry me."

Makedonios sits back and waits for the uncle's reaction.

Ulrich shakes his head and smiles. "I'm sorry, I'm letting rumor get to an old man. I am sure Ja...Iakovos, will make the right decision. As to the Knights, I worry with you. I am catholic as they are, yet their fervor frightens me, and what they are willing to do. I came with them only to get closer to Iakovos.But as to the Knights...is there something you wish to know?"

The Grandmaster sits and wonders how much to tell the older man. Finally he asks simply, "Will there be more?"

Ulrich ponders for a moment. With a grim face, answers in return. "Yes, if not the Knights Templar, then many more. From Venice, from the Holy Roman Empire, from England and France, from Spain and Portugal, they will come from even the lowliest duchy. Indeed, if the Pope calls for more, more will come."

Makedonios coughs for a moment while he takes in what the uncle said.

"Please don't take offense to what I am about to say. But this place is not meant to be governed by Catholics. The Byzantine Empire has been stewards of the Holy Lands for centuries. Our absence from this area has only been temporary. Catholic pilgrims will always be welcome here. But Catholic kingdoms holding land over here is... problematic."

Ulrich nods. "I believe I understand the implications, and I can only hope that instead my brethren support the Empire in it's reclamation of the Holy Land. But they bow to every whim of the Papacy. My family is known for our "eccentric" religious beliefs, one being that the Papacy does more harm then good." Ulrich said "eccentric" with considerable distaste.

Makedonios raises an eyebrow. "If by 'brethren' you mean the Templars, I somehow doubt they will let an Orthodox kingdom rule over them. I do not know much about them, but they seem to be fanatics."

"Then you read them correctly. They have sworn themselves to serve God, but I do not see it. I see them only bringing death, not peace." Ulrich is interrupted by Iakovos returning. He salutes before entering. "Grandmaster, Uncle. I found your letter Uncle." Iakovos looks over Makedonios. "Uncle Ulrich hasn't pushed you to have me married has he? He knows I have made vows..." Ulrich chokes for a moment, from laughter or surprise one cannot tell. Iakovos gives him a wry look.

With a smile, Makedonios said, "Not at all. Your uncle has just been talking to me about our neighbors to the south. You seem to have quite a family history Iakovos. Don't worry, the Order is an open and forgiving lot. As long as you follow the Charter and serve loyally, I care not what kind of past a Sergeant brings with him. Your past is between you and God. Some in the Senate might not understand however so you might want to use discretion with regards to who you talk to about these matters."

Iakovos is stunned slightly, unable to form words for a few seconds. He turns to Ulrich with a look of slight disbelief, then back to Makedonios. Ulrich speaks up. "I thank you Grandmaster for your time, especially in your condition. I think me and my nephew will leave you to your peace now." Ulrich stands up and reaches out to shake Makedonios's hand.

Makedonios takes his hand and shakes it firmly. "It was good to meet you sir. You have a good nephew here and he has done much to make you proud. I'll make sure he gets word to you when we get armor producing facilities up and running."

The Grandmaster nods to Iakovos and picks up a report as the two men leave the tent.

deguerra

06-19-2008, 04:58

(more to come)

Rodos, 1086

Ioannis Kalameteros twists and turns on his field bed. He has not been sleeping well, the strains of a stretched siege wrecking his nerves and keeping him awake for hours most night.

He lies in the dark, trying to be calm, trying hard to purge his mind of thoughts, to overcome the anger welling up in him, anger at not being able to sleep, at the stupidity of the defenders of Rodos, at this whole damned island. His blood is pulsing in his ears, spots are flashing before his eyes, sweat is dripping from his face as he finally falls into an uncomfortable sleep.

A flash. It is summer. His eyes are closed, but he can feel the warmth on his skin, perceive the light just beyond his eyelids, smell the flowers and the grass, bathe in the tranquility. He opens his eyes.

Around him is a small garden, shining serenely in the afternoon sun. The image is not clear, the edges of his vision seem blurred and flicker but whenever he turns his head, the flickering moves with it. He notices two girls chatting in the grass off to his right. Their faces tickle his memory, but he cannot name them. This place, this moment, he knows it, but just as he seems about to remember, memory eludes him again.

A man enters his vision from the left, walking along a small stone path that winds its through the garden. His clothes are of good quality but plain. The man is tall, with arms slightly too large for his body, the lines of his face obscured by a well trimmed beard. That face, it is...it is...it is his face, it is him, only older, much older. He springs to his feet, an urge to run to the man with his face, to himself. The man turns, a warm smile on his face. As he speaks, the blurred edges of Ioannis' vision expand and expand until at last they obscure it all.

"He has become emperor, my boy!"

A flash, and then there is darkness. Back on Rodos, Ioannis starts breathing more deeply, two words resonating in his head: "My boy, my boy, my boy..."

_Tristan_

06-19-2008, 08:38

Turkish Bloodbath
Cilician Armenia, September 8th 1071

The horses were almost out of breath, foam coming out of their mouths, their flanks coated in sweat.
The sun was already beginning to set behind the western hills when Methodios and his men neared the camp of the Tagmata.

A lump of lead seemed to have fallen to the pit of Methodios’ stomach. The flight of vultures in the sky was a sure sign of carnage.

Crossing one last ridge, Methodios and his men came upon the camp. Everywhere men lay sprawled in their blood, the cook-fires overturned, the horses either gone or dead… Not a living soul in sight… But above all the permeating and sickening stench of blood freshly spilled.

A noise of retching came from behind Methodios, himself not far from being sick.

“Too late…” Methodios cursed. “We are too late…”

The Seljuks had come and gone, taking with them the lives of so many brave soldiers, soldiers of the Empire…

Most of the men had not even had time to don their armour, some had not even been able to get out of their tents.

“We had barely left the camp when this happened” Bjarki said, a sad look upon his face. “We could have been among them but for that traitor’s summons… Pfah !! Curse his name and his line !! May the Norns cut his thread soon !!”

Methodios reached a decision.

“Bjarki, see to the wounded… Nikolas and Sergios, go and see if you can find some spare horses in the hills… The Turks can’t have taken them all… Some must have run away… Adrastos, lead the others and gather what provisions and weapons you can muster, we will need them… If we are to go back to Constantinople”.

Without a word, the men set to their separate tasks. Methodios got down from his horse, leading him by the reins towards the central square where Tarchaneiotes’ tent had once stood, intent on finding the maps that would help him plot his course for Constantinople.

“If what the Turk said is true, then the Emperor is alive and well… He must be warned of Tarchaneiotes’ treachery.” Methodios resolved.

******

_Tristan_

06-19-2008, 17:44

An outlaw
Sea of Marmara, near Constantinople, April 16th 1072.

The sea-gull drifted high above the ship, spotting the lonely figure by the rail at the front of the ship.
Swooping down to get a better view, the gull could see that it was a large man with sun-coloured hair, dressed with a black-cloak draped over his shoulders, against the biting wind that helped the gull remain in flight. Seeing that there was no food to be gained from that man, the gull veered to the left, away from the ship and towards the wharves of Constantinople, hoping to catch some fish from the fisher-crafts laying at anchor in the harbour.

Methodios stood at the portside railing of the ship watching a gull swoop down from the sky towards him then quickly veering away from the ship and towards the harbour.

“So free, nothing to weigh her down..” Methodios thought with envy.

It was almost half a year now since his self-appointed mission weighed down on him. Half a year since he had witnessed his mentor betray all that he thought he stood for the simplest sin of all : greed…

Over the last months he and his men had crossed all of Anatolikon, avoiding Turkish raiding parties, not of out of fear but because nothing could stand between him and his mission. His own retinue of men had followed him. Some had already crossed the Straits, seeking employment of one type or another, Methodios being unable to afford to keep them in his employ. Now, he had remained in Nikaia too long. It was time for him to cross and gain an audience with the Basileos to tell him how Joseph Tarchaneiotes, his second-in-command, his most trusted general had betrayed him, had him lose the battle at Manzikert, thus precipitating the fall of the Empire, opening Anatolikon to the ravages of the Turkish hordes.

Methodios had not heard of Tarchaneiotes’ fate after that fateful autumn day… “The man must be living at the Turkish court now… A privileged courtier, richer than most…” Methodios half-convinced himself.

Half-convinced because two days ago, he had received a letter from Nikodemos, written for him by a priest, where he put some clues as to what had happened of Tarchaneiotes.

The letter had prompted Methodios to action. Until then, he had dallied, unsure as to the reception he would get from the Emperor. A ruler does not like to be remembered of their past failures…

A sudden thud caught Methodios’ attention. The boat had reached the quay and the lines were being launched overboard to the men on the wharf.

A flurry of activity greeted Methodios as he made landfall, fishermen with baskets full of still-live fishes making their way to the market, dockers with bales of wool coming or going from the ships at anchor, peddlers trying to sell their wares to the passengers...

Making his way through the crowd, a task made a bit easier by standing a full head over the crowd, Methodios left the dock district behind him and set course for the Hippodrome where he was to find Nikodemos. The man had once again found employ at the Hippodrome, as a race official. The wound he had suffered when breaking away from the Turkish trap had healed badly, forbidding him from ever driving a chariot in a race… His limp would probably prevent him from ever going into battle again.

It was nearly two months now that Nikodemos was in Constantinople, time enough for him to gather what knowledge there was to gather… The Hippodrome was the temple of gossip, every level of Byzantine society mixed in the hallways, from the lowest of servants to the highest of nobles… Fortunes were made and lost in the blink of an eye… And Nikodemos stood at the centre of it all, like a spider in her web, trapping information instead of flies…

There were no races today thus Nikodemos was sitting at a table in front of one of the tavern facing the main entrance to the Hippodrome, drinking chilled wine and taking the first warm rays of the spring sun. A familiar figure crossing the square caught his attention.

“Methodios !!” he cried, bounding to his feet, overturning the table, sending goblet and pitcher crashing to the floor. Reaching the large blond man, he caught him in a tight embrace, reciprocated by the large man.

“You seem to do rather well since our last meeting, Nikodemos” Methodios said, studying the man at arms’ length.

“Yes… The Hippodrome pays well and offers food and lodging for the officials…” Nikodemos said, evidently pleased with himself, before adding in a low voice “… and if you can close your eyes on one or two little cheating tricks, your pockets are soon full…” This punctuated with a wink.

“How foul of you… But I know how much you wanted to work back at the Hippodrome… I’m happy that you succeeded…” Methodios told him sincerely.

Leading Methodios over to the tavern, where the maids had righted his table and were clearing the spilled wine, Nikodemos said “But we’re not here to talk about my fortunes… Come sit over here… Have some wine… I have news… Grave news…”

Sitting themselves down and ordering a new pitcher of wine, Nikodemos started to tell Methodios of the news that had made him send the letter.

The news related to Tarchaneiotes. He had come back to Constantinople, almost four months back, pleading for forgiveness from the Emperor for having been defeated by a numerically superior force of Turks, who killed all his men or took them prisoner, releasing him and few of his men to enable them to testify of the might of the Turks.

Nikodemos went on to tell of how Romanus Diogenes, himself having been defeated could not berate Tarchaneiotes but instead greeted him as a long-lost friend, even offering him a large estate on the Bosphorus for his loyalty to the Emperor.

But that was not all, another darker rumour said that Romanus’ defeat at Manzikert would soon be used against him by his political opponents, already sapping at his support and this with the help of Tarchaneiotes, the man mainly responsible for the debacle of Manzikert.

“This man is the Janus of old times come again” Methodios snarled. “He has two faces…”

“Yes but he still retains the favour of the Basileos… Your word or ours won’t carry much weight against his… From what I heard, he tells of how one of his junior officers has led him into a trap in exchange for Turkish riches and offer of protection… No need to tell you the name of that officer…”

“Curses !!” Methodios was taken aback. Not only his mission to warn the Emperor was a failure but he was now an outlaw, the man made responsible for the worst defeat the Empire had ever suffered. This was not right… Had God abandoned him ? He had never been a firm believer… His father had never converted to the True Faith, still believing in the Old Gods of the Norse… Lulled by these tall tales of battles between the Gods, of Midgard and Asgard, Methodios had never truly believed in the One God of the Orthodox faith…

Was he being punished now for his lack of faith ? If so, that God was surely blind if he could not tell right from wrong… Good from evil…

If no divine punishment befell Tarchaneiotes then it would be Methodios’ task in life to ascertain that the man’s fate lived up to his black deeds.

“Can you reach the others, Nikodemos ?” Methodios asked.

“Sure, they are all here in Constantinople… Working one craft or another… We could all meet here by sunrise tomorrow…”

“No… Not here… From what you tell me, I’m an outlaw… Though few men know my face, I stand out like the nose in the middle of the face… I won’t stand risk being recognized before I get to meet Tarchaneiotes face to face.”

“I know of a place outside the city walls by the Western Gate. On the road to Thessalonika, it is called the Greased Axle. The innkeeper is an old friend, a former charioteer by the name of Leukon.”

“Fine… Talk to the others… We’ll rendez-vous at the inn tomorrow at noon.”

Exchanging an accolade, the two men parted, Nikodemos remaining at the table and Methodios mingling with the afternoon crowds near the Hippodrome, heading for the Western Gate.

******

_Tristan_

06-20-2008, 10:08

Vengeance, sweet vengeance
Tarchaneiotes’ Estate, near the Bosphorus, April 18th 1072.

All of the men had been there at the inn. None had missed the chance of meeting with their comrades.
Methodios was overjoyed to see that these men had remained loyal to him. Most of them had fallen on hard times. Veterans of the Manzikert campaign were ill-considered in Constantinople these days…
Of them all, only Nikodemos seemed to have made a new life for himself… Methodios had been reluctant to drag him into what he had planned…

With the information provided by Nikodemos, Methodios had drafted a plan that he had presented to the men…

The plan had been simple enough : ride up to Tarchaneiotes’ estate and master his guards, confront the traitor and have him confess his sins. Then take him into custody and request an audience with the Emperor and denounce him for the fraud and the traitor he was.

All the men had adhered to it.

Now, they had left their horses tethered in a stand of trees and were hiding in the bushes across the main gate of the estate. The gates were closed and three guards in lamellar armour stood by the gate, two of them armed with spears, the last sporting a composite bow. Men similarly-equipped made rounds around the perimeter.

Night was slowly falling, the first stars appearing in the sky. The estate sprawled beneath them. It was located on a stretch of land which dropped a few hundred meters away to the waters of the Bosphorus straits. A road leading from Constantinople to some fishermen’s village ran before the gates.

https://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee86/badlieutenant_bucket/tekfur2.jpg

The main building was two stories high and located at the back of a large walled courtyard. The wall on the Constantinople side higher than the wall on the seaward side, thus giving a view over the moonlit waters of the straits. A tower was erected along the seaward wall with a light shining from it, a beacon for the sailors plying the waters of the Dardanellian Sea. In the front part of the courtyard were located several outhouses where guards’ and servant quarters, stables and smithies were to be found. In the back, the wall enclosed a garden where several cypress trees could be seen waving in the slight breeze from the sea. Torches in sconces were distributed along the outer wall, casting a flickering light.

Between the hiding place of Methodios and his men and the estate’s gates was a flat expanse of ground strewn with bushes and boulders, not enough to provide cover. They would have to make a run for it.

According to plan, Antonios drew out his bow, fitting an arrow to the string and drawing it taut. At the same time, Adrastos hefted a javelin, drawing his arm back, his arm muscle bulging with the strain. At a sign from Methodios, both let loose at the same time, the others with Methodios in the lead making a rush for the gates. The arrow went through one of the guards’ throat while the javelin impacted the second guard, piercing his armour and nailing him to the gate. The last man stood rooted to the spot, seeing his two comrades struck down, and with a large party of men running at him with swords drawn.

Finally coming to his senses, the guard at the gate let out a cry. “A… Al… Alarm !!!” Turning around, he opened the small gate behind him and rushed through.
Antonios drew another arrow to his bow and let it fly at the man in the tower, the arrow piercing his lung, the man toppling over the rail to the courtyard below, preventing him from sounding the alarm bell dangling behind him in the tower.

Methodios’ men were only ten meters away and Nikolas, sprinting, smashed himself into the gate, preventing the man from latching it closed. The guard was sent reeling but soon regained his feet, unsheathing his sword in the same move and making a lunge at Nikolas. The squire evaded the sword stroke, prepared to make another evasive move… This proved unnecessary as a large thrown axe stuck from the man’s ribcage, courtesy of Bjarki…

While Methodios’men filed in through the gates, the alarm was raised in the estate and several of the guards and servants came out of their lodgings, latching on their armour and sword-belts. On the outside, Antonios’ arrows took out two more of the patrolling guards who ran to bring help to their comrades.

The courtyard erupted into pandemonium. The clash of metal on metal, the grunts of men, the cries of the wounded… Suddenly, Methodios spotted Tarchaneiotes at a balcony on the first story of the main building.

Surprise was painted on Tarchaneiotes’ face. Mouthing a “You”, he left the balcony.

In the courtyard, Methodios’ men were gaining ground. Bjarki had cleared a wide space around by swinging his large Danish axe in an arc. Sergios hurled a barrel towards three advancing guards, sending them flying like so many pins in a ball game. Others fought sword duels all around the courtyard. None of them had suffered more than slight cuts. Methodios hacked his way forward through the press of bodies, slashing left and right, blind to the suffering of the men he fell.

Finally, he emerged in the lobby of the building. He was greeted by a large marble statue of an unknown God (Is it Hermes or Ares ? he wondered). Everywhere the wealth of the former General was on display. Ancient vases of brown and black designs were nicely disposed into niches, marble columns delineated the passages into other rooms. Behind the monumental statue was found a small courtyard open to the sky where a fountain gurgled into a small pool.

Behind Methodios, Bjarki was keeping the door, intent on mowing down any man foolish enough to approach the whooshing edge of his axe.

“Traitor !! Show yourself !!” Methodios howled.

He ran through the passage ways of the large building. Opening doors after doors, all the rooms richly furnished, he searched the place, still finding no sign of Tarchaneiotes.

Finally reaching the back of the building, Methodios came upon a flight of stairs. On the highest steps, there stood Tarchaneiotes, a smirk upon his face. He had donned his helmet, leaving the lower mailed part unlatched. Over his tunic, he had put on a chainmail and his lamellar armour, complete with wrist guards and shin guards etched in gold. In his left hand, he bore a large round shield while his right gripped the hilt of a curved sword of Turkish design.

“You call me traitor but last I heard, it is not I who is an outlaw… It is not I who is rumoured to have sold his whole army to the Turks… I came home a hero… And where are you ? Penniless… Hunted…” said Tarchaneiotes, stepping slowly down the steps “What do you seek to accomplish here ? Vengeance ? For who ? For what ? What will you gain ? I tell you… You’ll gain nothing… You think you can best me… I doubt it… Should you succeed, there will be no rabbit hole deep enough to save you from the wrath of the Emperor… If I die, how will you prove that I am what you say I am ? And if I live, and you die, I’ll be the greatest hero of the Empire, my praise sung for eons…”

Methodios felt fury welling up inside him… So much of what the man said was true… What had he been trying to accomplish ? Vengeance…Only sweet vengeance… There was no lying to himself… He had been played a fool by a man he admired, a man he had sought to emulate in all things… Now he was here for only one thing : to get rid of the self-loathing he had felt since that fateful day in Cilicia.

“Now, I notice you look at my sword… A parting gift from my friend Al-Mulk… I made up a story for it… How I took it from the corpse of a Turkish general in the battle you made us lose through your treachery”…

Finally reaching the bottom of the steps, Tarchaneiotes assumed a fighting stance, his torso protected by the shield, his sword lifted high above his head, point forward.

“Now let’s see if you can get your revenge… Fight !!”

With a snarl, Tarchaneiotes charged into Methodios, his large buckler almost knocking his opponent down. The Turkish sword then swooped down and it took all of Methodios’ skill to parry it. Moving back, Methodios was forced to parry the thrusts and swings of the older man. Once or twice, he got nicked by the tip of the sword, blood running from the cuts. Finally regaining his balance, Methodios was able to counter the strokes and reply with his own but the shield was ably used by Tarchaneiotes, providing few openings for Methodios to wound him.

Blows fell from both sides, the swordsmen’s skills negating one another’s. Through the din of the swords clashing, Methodios perceived a change in the noise from the courtyard. Where before there had only been the noise of fighting, he could now hear calls and cries.

Too much occupied with deflecting the mighty blows of Tarchaneiotes, Methodios had no time to wonder about what was happening outside. He was committed… There was no turning back, now… It would either be him or his nemesis… His only regret should he lose his life here would be for the men he dragged along in his fall…

Still the blows rained down from both fighters, without one gaining the upper hand.

Suddenly, the booming voice of Bjarki broke through Methodios’ focus.

“Methodios… Varangians” was all he heard.

“What ?” Methodios asked, in a croaking, dry voice.

“Varangians !! Some guard must have escaped and reached the palace !!” Bjarki answered from the door… “We must go or we’re doomed !!”

“Then go… take the others with you… I’m not finished here...” Methodios barked, not taking his eyes off his adversary even for a blink.

A smile spread on Tarchaneiotes’ face “Listen to your man… Run… That’s all you ever do… Run… Like that day in the Turkish camp… You’ve never done anything else but run…”
Spurred by the words of the man, Methodios lashed viciously with his sword, raining blows after blows, his sword striking sparks from the General’s own, one master-stroke rending the shield in half, biting deep into the man’s arm.

Howling with pain, Tarchaneiotes wrenched the shield free from his arm, blood pouring heavily from the deep gash.

Clasping his sword in both hands, he struck a mighty blow, then another, the force of the blows wrenching Methodios’ grip on his sword, sending it flying near the pool.

“So now, traitor… How does it feel to be at my mercy ? I will make you beg for this” Tarchaneiotes said, showing the wound in his arm, all the while advancing on Methodios, until his sword point rested on his throat.

“Get on your knees and beg… Beg for your life…”

Before Methodios could answer or make a move, a large body impacted against Tarchaneiotes, sending him flying the two men wrestling on the ground.

Methodios noticed it was Bjarki. The man released the general, got to his feet and catching a stupefied Methodios by the arm led him to the courtyard. Bodies lay sprawled everywhere, though a single glance showed Methodios that none of them were any of his men.

“We must run, Methodios… The Varangians will be here soon… It is a fight we cannot win…” Bjarki said, running all the while dragging Methodios after him. Methodios’ men kept the guards at bay, thus creating a path through the courtyard to the gates.

Torn between his desire for vengeance and self-preservation, Methodios followed Bjarki grudgingly through the outer gates of the estate. Soon all of his men joined them and began to run with them towards the trees where their horses were tethered. From the corner of his eye, Methodios noticed a large company of men, coming out of a bend in the road… Varangians for sure… There was no mistaking the heavy armours or the large crescents of the Danish axes…

“To be hunted down by men that fought with my father, how much lower can I fall ?” Methodios wondered.

Mounting his horse, Methodios shot a last glance towards the estate. In front of the gates, there stood Tarchaneiotes, waving frantically to his men, sending them chasing after the runaways.

Turning his horse, Methodios sent him at a gallop down the road after his men, away from Tarchaneiotes, away from the Varangians, away from vengeance…

******

Coming soon "the Epilogue"

_Tristan_

06-20-2008, 16:23

Epilogue : A new hope
Thessalonika, March 2nd 1081

(written with permission from OK)

(Senate opens on June 3rd, 1081)

Methodios walked out of the merchant’s house, the purse full of silver coins bouncing in his hand. Crossing the market of Thessalonika, he reflected upon the last months. How many trains had he escorted with his men ? Crossing from the Aegean coast to the Adriatic, from Thessalonika to Dyrrakhion (or Durazzo as the Italians liked to call it.)… So many he couldn’t quite remember…

Anyway, better that than serving garrison duty as they had done for some time in Corinth or worse still serving as mercenaries, helping petty regional rulers to settle their land disputes with their neighbours by shedding the blood of their peasants…

“How low we have fallen ? From being part of one of the most elite units of the Empire’s army to being outcasts in our own country ?” Methodios thought, filled with gloom. Still, he and his men remained faithful to the Empire… Their loyalty had always been and would always remain to the Emperor, whatever wrongs had been done to them…

Since that fateful night at Tarchaneiotes’ estate almost nine years ago now, they had been on the run, going from one employer to the next, always vigilant, never settling too long in one place…

Through the years that had passed, the Empire had known upheavals as well. Romanus, the Basileos captured at Manzikert, had been deposed by the Doukas in the months following Methodios’ raid on Tarchaneiotes’ estate. Rumour had it that he had been tortured, blinded and had died in exile not long after. Methodios felt sorry for him. He had also been a victim of Tarchaneiotes’ scheming with the Turks.

Michael Doukas had gained the throne, a puppet of his uncle before becoming that of his minister of finance. Together, they indulged on luxury spending, withdrawing funds from the army coffers. Disgruntled soldiers led to several rebellions and allowed Italian forays on what was once Byzantine soil.

Finally, General Nikephoros Botaneiates rebelled and gained access to the throne, evicting the Doukas from power, and being crowned as Nikephoros III. But in doing this, and to put down the rebellions in the Balkans and in Anatolia, he had become reliant upon Aleksios Komnenos, great general and leader of men.

Last year, with the support of the Doukas family, Aleksios managed a coup and deposed Nikephoros III.

All these political upheavals meant nothing to Methodios. He was and remained an outlaw, his name anathema due to Tarchaneiotes’ accusations, whoever sat on the throne of the Basileos.

Methodios had remained in contact with Nikodemos. His old friend had remained in Constantinople, working at the Hippodrome. From him, he had heard that Tarchaneiotes had disappeared in the wake of his sponsor being deposed, selling his assets and vanishing. With him gone, there was no way to prove his innocence and erase the shame associated with his name.

Chasing these thoughts from his mind, Methodios joined his men by their fire campfire, on the outskirts of the market, one of many camps catering to the merchants’ guards.

Exchanging greetings with them and tossing the purse to Nikolas, in charge of the keeping of the group finances, he sat down to share their lunch.

Suddenly, a deep silence fell over the market. Worried glances in the eyes of his men, and seeing most of them discreetly going for their weapons, Methodios turned to look in the direction of their gaze.

He immediately understood why silence had fallen upon the market and the guards’ camps. A large contingent of Varangians was making a beeline through the stalls towards Methodios and his men.

They were lead by one of the largest man Methodios had ever seen, even bigger than him. The man carried an air of authority about him.
“Not a good sign” Methodios mused.

Finally stopping a few meters from Methodios, the captain took a few step forward of his men.

“Methodios Tagaris ?” he asked in a deep commanding voice.

“Who is asking ?” Bjarki answered, before Methodios could say a word.

“Not talking to you, ulfhednar…” answered the man, glowering.

“I am Methodios Tagaris” intervened Methodios, standing up to face the man, before Bjarki threw himself at the man. “And I will ask the same question : Who is asking ?” Putting a brave face on but feeling a hard lump settling in his stomach thinking “Is it how this is supposed to end ? Imprisoned ? Tortured ? Executed ?”

Seemingly reading, Methodios’ doubts, the man’s face softened “I am Harald Sigurdsson, captain of the Imperial Guard to Basileos Aleksios Komnenos. And I am not here to arrest you, be at ease.”

Methodios heard a collective sigh from the men gathered behind him, tension seemingly going away, grip on weapons loosening.

“Would you walk with me, Topoteretes ?” Harald asked, using Methodios’ military rank.

“Of course”, Methodios answered, wondering why the Captain of the Imperial Guard would have been sent to him, for this was no coincidence.

Walking away from the market and the glances of the assembled populace, Sigurdsson and Methodios walked down to the stream that run down from the market. Walking along the banks, the noise of the running water soothing Methodios’ nerves, Sigurdsson began to explain.

“I knew your father. We served together in many campaigns. He was a great fighter and I see much of Leif in you. He was not dubbed “The Tiger” for nothing. Though your name sounds more Greek, a gift he made to your mother, I feel there is a tiger in you also. That tiger is caged right now. I hope to unleash it. But not to strike blindly, out of rage, but to strike on orders. The highest orders that can be, the orders of the Basileos.” Letting that sink in, Sigurdsson walked a few pace in silence.

“But I’m an outlaw… I’m the man despised for having betrayed half of our army during the Manzikert campaign.” Methodios answered.

“I have put a word in for you with the Basileos. I cannot believe the lies spread about you. I pride myself on being a good reader of men and so does our Basileos. You were nothing but a scapegoat in what was the failing of a whole nation. Our Basileos is ready to grant you his pardon.”

“From what I know of our rulers, there must be a price attached to that” Methodios asked, warily.

“Yes,” answered Sigurdsson, with a thin smile “a small price… As you may know the Basileos is new to the Throne. Those last years have seen many political upheavals and the Basileos doesn’t want to be another victim of those upheavals. To prevent such a thing, he intends on renewing the old Senate… For that he needs Senators… Many of the old ones died either at Manzikert or in the rebellions since then. Most of the new Senators still have milk coming out of their noses, though some show promise. Our Basileos intends to make our Empire as great as it was, stretching from one horizon to the other, the sun never setting over it…For that he will also need generals… Your name came up as a man of valour however stained your name may be… Your feats on the battlegrounds of the Empire have not gone totally unnoticed… I spoke in your favour… What do you say ? Will you join us in our fight to make our Empire great once again ?”

Methodios pondered the question, keeping on walking along the stream. Sigurdsson kept silent.

“What of my men ?” asked Methodios. “What will become of them ?”

“Forgiven, as you are. Keep them in you employ as your bodyguard or send them away it doesn’t make a difference…”

Methodios pondered his options. A life of honour but a life of danger both visible and hidden or a life of dishonour but no less dangerous…

“I thankfully accept the Basileos’ offer. I would be a fool to refuse the honour that represents.” Methodios answered.

“Fine… I had no doubt you would accept. Here is some gold to see to your equipment and that of your men.” said Sigurdsson tossing a heavy leather pouch to Methodios. “It wouldn’t do for a Senator to appear in the Magnaura dressed as a peasant, no ?” Sigurdsson said with a hearty laugh. “Now, you are to report to the Senate in three months’ time, to the day… That will be the opening of the Senate session. Be there… Strator”.

With these final words, Sigurdsson clasped Methodios’ arm and saluted fist to heart.

Then he turned and walked towards his waiting men, leaving Methodios by the stream, not casting a single glance back.

******

TheFlax

06-21-2008, 05:27

((Written in collaboration with Ignoramus))

Nicaea 1087

Anna had only stopped one day in Konstantinopolis on her way from Bran to Nicaea, where she had taken care of some matters concerning her treacherous confidante. In the weeks her journey had taken, she had much time to ponder what had happened in Bran and as each day passed, she found the bitter sting of betrayal remained in her heart. Her life was slowly falling apart and as much as she hated to admit it, her brother was the only one to whom she could turn to. Surely after 13 years apart, he would not deny her, would he?

It was early afternoon in a spring day and a storm was brewing in the sky, when the carriage of the princess sped through the gates of Nicea and made its way to the residence of Ioannis Komnenos. As soon as the carriage came to a halt, Anna stepped out, not waiting for the staff to help her and when she came upon the guards who rushed out to meet her, she demanded that they take her to see her brother. At first, the men didn't recognise her, for she still wore the same common attire she had worn in Hungary, but as soon as they realised who she was, they bowed profusely and led her straight to him.

Her eyes quickly surveyed the room when she eneterd. It was modestly furnished, with little in the way of extravagance. It was clear that the so-called decadence of the Imperial Palace had not found its way here.

Ioannis glanced up when she entered, suprise registering on his face.

"Anna, er, what a lovely suprise!" he uttered hastily. Recovering himself, he looked at her keenly, "But surely you do not come to pay compliments, as we both know. What great thing has caused you to visit me? Surely you are not in danger?"

With a glance, Anna made sure they were alone before making her move. "Oh Ioannis!" She exclaimed, wrapping herself around him in a warm embrace. "I knew not to who else I could turn..." She added a sob for good measure. "My enemies are incessantly growing closer and closer to me." Now on the verge of tears she finished in a plaintive tone. "You must help me brother!"

Ioannis' face hardened, "Why should I help you? Have you not constantly shown your antagonism against me? If this is another plot of yours..."

Anna backed away, tears rimming her eyes and answered with a quivering voice carrying both pain and anger. "How can you say that?! My confidante, the closest person in my life, almost strangled me... and then I learn she had been selling me out for some time. And you accuse me?!"

She wiped away the tears and composed herself, but her bitter words remained full of sadness. "Are you completely heartless? Or do you hate your sister so much that you do not care in the slightest what befalls her?"

Coming close to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Forgive me, sister, I should not have accused you." he responded soothingly, "You have been unkind to me in the past, but that is no reason for me to treat you so."

Having regained her countenance she lowered her head, ashamed. "I am not safe Ioannis. I know you dislike me, but I do not think you would see me dead, no matter our differences."

Stepping away from her, Ioannis seated himself and gestured for his sister to do the same. When she sat down, he began, "Anna, I believe what you say and that you are in trouble. Confide in me and I will do all that is my power to assist you."

Anna considered her words carefully. "You remember brother, when I was attacked in 6589 (1081), and now my own confidante has attempted to kill me when I learned she was spying on me. Someone wishes me ill, and I will not be safe in Konstantinopolis. I will not be safe unless I marry or go abroad.

Ioannis laughed, "Then why not marry, dear sister? If you cannot trust your own servants, then you definitely need a protector. I know that you cannot be expected to marry for love, but who can in these times?"

Turning seriously to her, his voice changed, "You must stay in Nicaea, no one would dare make an attempt against your life while you are in my company. I know not what my father plans for you, but you must not be allowed to wander around the countryside unprotected."

Anna smiled coyly. "And what if I found someone I loved, would you make such a union possible? Marriage is a solution seemingly impossible at the moment, father does not seem to wish it. I must admit, I do not find the idea of being cloistered in this city much appealing and while I am unmarried I have certain duties I must attend to. What do you propose?"

Standing up, Ioannis began to pace around the room, "It would depend on who it was that you loved."

Pausing for a moment, Ioannis continued, "Now you desire my counsel. Try and find out who these people are who seek your life. It shall not be easy, but you are a woman with a sharp mind. Think, is there any suitor you have jilted? Any foreigner you have met lately?"

She looked at him in confusion. "Is that a jest brother? I've been living with foreigners for the past three years, no need to remind me of that. As for enemies, I must have many, mostly jealous rivals of my suitors probably. One name comes to mind, but I doubt he would go so far as to attempt to eliminate me."

Looking apologetic, Ioannis replied, "Forgive me, sister, but it seems that I cannot give you any reasonable advice. I will pray that you outwit your enemies."

Standing up he gestured towards the door, "Now, come and meet some of the Komnenodoukai's generals, who serve our father and myself so well."

"As you wish, brother." Anna answered formally as he led her to the men she would meet. He could dismiss her for now, but as always, she would persist until she got what she wanted.

Privateerkev

06-22-2008, 21:38

Antioch: 1090

Makedonios tried to sit on his horse. He had been feeling bad for years. But finally, the moment he had been preparing for a decade was at hand. Antioch had finally run out of food for it's garrison.

The front gates creaked open. And all of a sudden, hundreds of men poured out. Thinking the garrison was attacking, Makedonios ordered his men into battle lines. But the garrison men simply ran along the sides of the wall and attempted to make it into the countryside. Afraid the garrison units would reform and bother them later, the Grandmaster ordered his Sergeants to take off and round them up. Being the only cavalry in his army, they all galloped off, leaving the Grandmaster sitting there leading the foot units of the army.

A young man was up in an arrow tower. Barely 16, Azim had watched everything that had happened. He saw a man in shiny armor barking orders and coughing. Taught by his grandfather to go for the shiniest armor first, Azim crouched behind the arrow slit, took aim, and fired.

THWOCK!

Makedonios had a fine plate of armor on order that was made by the Patriarch himself. It was supposed to arrive before today but Imperial bureaucracy was what it was. Some official had not signed one of the triplicate forms on time and the procurement officer had kept the armor behind his desk until he could get confirmation from the initial bureaucrat. The armor from the Patriarch probably would have caused the arrow to just bounce off. But Makedonios only had his old armor on and it wasn't thick enough.

The arrow hit him in the shoulder and caused him to fall off his horse. Upon hitting the ground, Makedonios immediately passed out. His body was weakened from a decade of severe illness and the shock of the hit was simply too much. His army saw their commander hit by an arrow from the city walls. Enraged, and with no nobles to lead them, they simply ran into the city.

Searching for who ever had shot their general, the soldiers started entering homes. While women and children were spared, any man of military age was rounded up and taken to the city square. Some of the garrison were still hiding and they put up a fight when their homes were entered. Outnumbered and separated, the militiamen lost their individual contests against groups of Byzantine soldiers. Any home found to be inhabited by a militia member had their property taken.

The captured men in the courtyard knew they were going to meet a bad end. As a group, they rushed the soldiers guarding them and we're cut down. Soldiers went to those men's homes and confiscated their property as well. Over 2000 military age men were killed in Antioch that day. Through all of this, Makedonios laid on a bed unconscious. His Sergeants finally came back from rounding up the fleeing soldiers a couple of hours later. Appalled at what they saw, they put an end to it immediately. Captains of the Byzantine regiments were placed under arrest.

When Makedonios finally awoke, he learned what had happened. From his bed, he performed the ceremony to turn the city over to Armatos and knighted him as a full Knight of the Order of St. John. And he made arrangements to make sure the confiscated property was sent to the Emperor. While he could not undo the terrible things that had happened that day, he hoped the 6591 florins would help the war effort in other parts of the Empire.

Rowan

06-23-2008, 11:06

Vartholomaios Ksiros had been assigned to the rearguard formation responsible for foraging and patrolling the outskirts of Antioch. As such he hadn't spent much time with the main sieging army outside of the city proper and had been spared the vagaries of extended siege. He made a silent prayer thanking the Lord for his continuing good health. Hopefully other members of the Order would start getting better now that the siege was finally over.

Now Vartholomaios was leading a unit consisting of his bodyguard and armed peasants to reinforce the army that was now garrisoning Antioch. The peasants were despondent for having been kept on extended campaign for so long. Soon some would begin slipping back to the coast, trying to get transport back to their homesteads on Cyprus. Entering the city and all its delights would probably help their morale quite a bit, and it would be much more difficult to desert from the city. The walls and towers would as well keep the garrisoning army in as they would keep an invading army out.

Vartholomaios chuckled at the thought just as the marching column entered the city through the main gate.

"Antioch, eh, seems a bit on the quiet side", he thought as what few local inhabitants there were visible stopped on their business and stood silently watching the columns progress to the central plaza.
"City this size should have quite a bit more merchants than...". Just then a horrible wail began to sound from above the rooftops. The soldiers of the bodyguard immediately drew their swords, preparing to fight off the ambush. "Relax!" yelled Vartholomaios "It's just the muezzin calling the muslims for prayer!". Slowly the drawn swords were sheathed. The road was now completely empty of inhabitants, those not scurrying to prayer having vacated the place very quickly at the sight of naked steel.

"It seems we need priests here even more than merchants", Vartholomaios thought glumly as the column started again.

Ituralde

06-23-2008, 15:54

East of Nicaea 1089

This story was supposed to be made together with Byblos and his character Tarasios Sarantinos. OOC reasons kept us from realizing in it's whole attempt. I still like the story and I think Pavlos would have no problem finding some other young man to bounce around. :beam:

The sun was setting over the horizon and already the shadows were lengthening. Thrown by the tent lines of the camp, all arrayed in straight lines, forming a square pattern in the rolling hills of Paphlagonia. A small trench had been dug around the encampment with wooden spikes added to help repell any attackers. The two entrances were manned by several men leaning lazily on their pikes while other guards could be seen patrolling the outskirts. Inside the camp fires were lit at specified intervals and those not on guard duty had gathered around to enjoy their evening meal. The march had been strenuous and setting up camp had taken its time. The men around the campfire were clearly relieved to snatch a few restive moments from the hard campaign life. Just as one of them was about to lift his filled spoon, savouring the aroma of mutton stewed to perfection, a loud voice interrupted!

"Attention, soldier! Whose tent is this?"

Reluctantly lowering the spoon and raising his hand the man turned to his commander: "Mine, sir."

"Well I be bloody darned. Have you ever set up a tent in your life, lad? Or have you even looked at the tents of your comrades? The storm lines are clearly missing! A little gust of wind might blow it away!"

The commander stepped towards the tent and gave it a kick, toppling the main support so that it folded in on itself.

"Just like that, you see! You bloody build that up again, and this time do it right! And tuck in your shirt, this is not some brothel in Nicaea, this is the Caesar's Royal Army!"

As the man rose a surpressed snickering could be heard from his comrades.

"And once he's finished I want to see all of you on guard duty on the South Gate! You take First and Second Watch!"

As the commander walked on, the gleeful looks of his comrades quickly turned to hateful stares as they watched the man reerecting his tent.

A pleased smile on his face Pavlos walked on, his watchful gaze scanning the camp around him.

"See lad, that's what happens if you take bloody Militia on a bloody campaign! They wouldn't find their own arses with a map, if left alone!"

The young man accompanying him nodded in agreement following a few steps behind the burly man with the scar running down the side of his face.

"Discipline is important, lad! Nothing like discipline to see you through. If you can't rely on them building a camp when you tell them to, how can you rely on them in the heat of battle? Might decide it's time to run and be done with it. Bloody Militia, they'll probably run whatever you tell them. But you have to try!"

The young man nodded again a little bit more hesitantly, slowly working up the courage he raises his hand and asks tentatively.

"So is all of this really necessary, we're two days ride from Nicaea..."

Under the stare of Pavlos the young man trails off and both come to a halt.

"We're on campaign lad! Doesn't matter where we are, as far as I'm concerned all of this" his gesture encompasses the surroundings of the camp "is enemy territory! You don't want some Seljuk twerp to sneak up on you and slit your throat while you're asleep, now would you? I promised your mother to bring you safely to Sinop, and by God I will! Once we're there though." Pavlos laughs heartily holding his stomach with both his hands. "We'll just see who runs first, eh? The Militia or you and your so-called retainers!"

Slapping the man on the shoulder he starts walking again.

"Don't you worry lad, I'll put some backbone into you, that'll make your mommy proud! By the time you're back you'll be slitting Turkish throats while dandling a lass on each knee, you mark my words!"

_Tristan_

06-24-2008, 09:18

Croatian Gold
Northern Epirus border, July 1089.

A hot wind gusted through the mountain passes of Northern Epirus, blowing drifts of dust, twisting its way around the pine trunks that dotted the slopes.
The riders were huddled in their capes against the wind, the dust clinging to the sweat running on their exposed skin, making their way across the path that crossed the mountain range.

Methodios was riding in the lead, letting the reins rest on his horse’s collar, the horse knowing its way, having trodden it so many times over the last year.

It was almost a year now since Methodios had left Dyrrakhion to oversee the Venetian border. The defeat of the Italian-employed mercenaries had him thinking that retaliation would soon follow from the Venetians but until now, there had been no gathering of forces at Ragusa, no landings by the powerful Venetian navy though their ships still plied the trade routes of the Adriatic.

“I thought they would use Dyrrakhion as an excuse for waging war on us… That their pride would talk… Seems they have learnt the virtues of patience…” thought Methodios “Now we’ve patrolled these passes over and over and even went down to the Ragusa countryside and have yet to see a threatening move on their part. It may be time to get back to Dyrrakhion. Though I had pledged to give it to the Emperor after capture, and true to my word I forswore all claims on it, perhaps the Basileos will deem me capable enough to appoint me as governor to the town…”

Methodios’ reverie was broken suddenly by a metallic ringing coming from the valley that opened a bit further down the mountain road. There was no mistaking it : it was the clangour of battle…

Thinking at first that his mind was playing tricks on him, Methodios turned in his saddle, seeing that all of his men were standing erect in their saddles, oblivious to the cold seeping into their cloaks, clear indication that he had not been imagining the noise.

Methodios was now sure there was a battle somewhere down there, though the echoes on the rocky faces of the mountains prevented him from guessing the number of fighters involved.

“Forward !!” he called to his men, unsheathing his sword at the same time. Setting a brisk pace, guided by the noise of ringing metal, Methodios drove his horse down the slanting road.

Finally, a bend in the road revealed the origin of the noise.

A merchant train was being attacked by a small party of what seemed professional soldiers although they did not wear any identifiable colours, though their arms and armours had a distinct Italian feel.

Several of the merchant guards lay dead on the ground, while only a few of the brigands seemed to have suffered light wounds. Soon, the last defenders would be overwhelmed.

The numbers were slightly against Methodios and his men but their sudden appearance should provide enough of an advantage to prevail.

His decision taken, Methodios spurred his charger, signalling with his sword to his men, who as one followed him down the slope.

The horses’ hooves striked sparks on the rocky ground of the slope, an avalanche of noise that soon reached the brigands. Heads began to turn, shock leading to terror…

The leader of the brigands soon realized that there was no way to win that battle and a quick order called in a language unknown to Methodios (“Definitely not Italian” thought Methodios), sent his men running up the mountainside where only goats could follow, rocks and trees barring the way to the horses.

The merchant guards maintained a vigilant posture, tightening their position around the two wagons that made up the merchant train. Their horses had wandered away, putting them at a disadvantage to the approaching riders. Methodios called his men to halt and ordered them to sheath their weapons, after making sure that the robbers had fled far enough not to cause any more mischief.

Keeping their weapons drawn, the guards nevertheless didn’t relax. One of them, seemingly the leader stepped forward.

“Shall we thank you ? Or are you just frightening the competition ?” he asked, defiantly, in a strongly accented Greek.

Before Methodios or any of his men could answer, a fiftyish man of wide girth stepped down from the front of the lead wagon.

“Hush now, Goran… These men have just saved our lives… No need to be aggressive…Better see to our wounded…” the man said, talking to the leader of the guards, in a slightly less accented Greek.

The man was dressed in a black tunic of dark brocaded silk over which he wore an old-fashioned leather breastplate. He wore high boots of fine leather and a foppish black hat with a white feather. His face seemed jovial enough, ruddy and lined like an old apple, a wide graying beard covering the lower part of his face.

Walking towards Methodios and his men, seeing that his own men had sheathed their weapons and were going to the wounded to tend to their wounds, a smile lit up the man’s face.

“Let me introduce myself…I am Milos Kovacs, miner and trader, from the free city of Zagreb, a hundred leagues to the north. Who shall I thank ?”he asked “I take it by the looks of your armours and weapons that you are kataphraktoi, hence in the service of the Roman Empire, no ?”

“You’re right” Methodios answered, instantly liking the man. “My name is Methodios Tagaris. These are my companions. May I ask what brought you to these barren country , Master Kovacs ? Not much in it but rocks…”

“Exactly, my Lord… Exactly… Rocks… Beautiful rocks…” Kovacs answered, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “There are all kinds of rocks, my Lord… Some more valuable than others… Let me show you…” Walking to the back of one of the wagons, Kovacs climbed in and was soon back out with a small pouch. Handing it to Methodios, he said “Here… Take a look…”

Open the pouch and pouring a bit of its content on his hand, Methodios was surprised to see a few golden stones, the stones casting a warm glow from the sun beating on them.

“Is that what I think it is ?” Methodios asked.

“Yes, my Lord… Gold… Pure gold, plundered from Earth’s bowels…”

“And I suppose there are more of these in those two chariots of yours ? What’s to stop me from killing you and taking all that for me ?” Methodios asked, matter-of-factly.

“My Lord, I pride myself in being a good engineer but also a good judge of character… I can feel we are in no danger from you or your men… Anyway, take this pouch as a gift for saving our lives and our shipment. You’ve earned it…” said Kovacs closing Methodios’ hands over the pouch.

“But we didn’t even fight any of your aggressors…” Methodios argued. “I cannot accept…”

“Then perhaps will you accept to answer a few questions for me in exchange ? Or provide some help ?” Kovacs asked.

“What do you want to know ?” Methodios asked, getting down from his horse. Seeing that his companions had done the same, helping the guards tend to their wounded comrades.

“May I ask what a Byzantine knight is doing so far away from the Empire ? Is this not Venetian territory ?”

“True… But Durazzo has fallen to Empire arms and we are here to prevent any move by the Venetians to reclaim it.”

“Ah… I see… My Lord… Forgive me if I seem too forward but I would ask a service of you… As I stated earlier, I hail from the fair and free city of Zagreb. Though it is now free in name only…Until a few years ago, we owed no allegiance to nobody but ourselves. We traded with all the neighbouring kingdoms… It was a heaven for men such as me… But Heaven often lures the Devil… This time he came in the guise of one Captain Gulya and his men. They pretended that the Venetians had plans to claim Zagreb as their territory and convinced the city Elders that they should hire him and his men for our city’s protection. The Elders complied but the threat has not come true in the meantime nor does it seem to be on the verge of becoming true. Nevertheless, Gulya and his men are still getting tribute from our city, indulging in feasts and orgies. His men are not much better than rogues, preying on our merchant trains. See… The men you put to flight are Gulya’s men.”

“So what service would you ask of me ?” Methodios asked, with a smile. “Surely not to escort your wagons to safety ?”

“No… I had in mind a mission more fitting of a Byzantine knight… See… These mountains around us you are full to the brim with gold… Only thing is the roads are not safe out of these mountains… So until we get rid of Gulya and his men, there is no exploiting it… What you’ve just seen in that pouch is nothing compared to what we could scour from the soil with the proper engineering… But setting something like that up requires money… More money than I or even all of Zagreb traders put together could muster… Now, if you would help us get rid of Gulya’s yoke, I could put in a word with the Elders and have them declare themselves for the Empire. Then we could use funds from your Basileos to set up a series of mines in these mountains. They would pay up for any investment in no time, my Lord… What say you ?” asked Kovacs, an expectant look on his face.

Methodios thought a while. Kovacs was a good man, of this he was sure. He would prove true to his word. But marching on that town without knowing the strength of his opponent could be suicide. Plus, it would mean abandoning Dyrrakhion, though apparently the town was safe from Venetian assault. And the House of the Tepaki had been en route and could take over the governing of the newly conquered city. He’ll be out of reach to the Empire for some time until he reached Zagreb.

“Are you sure your countrymen are ready to come under Empire rule ? There will be no turning back…” Methodios asked.

“Surely, it will not be easy… Though the majority will gladly be rid of Gulya, some have risen to power since his arrival… They have supporters, but nothing that wealth pouring in can’t overturn”, Kovacs replied, frankly.

Having reached his decision, Methodios put his arm on Kovacs’s shoulder. “Walk with me… We have some plans to make…”

******

Kagemusha

06-24-2008, 19:23

Bessarabia winter 1093.

Howling winter storms were sweeping the hillsides of Bessarabia as small group of less then 30 horses and men were struggling North, inland along West side the Black Sea. Everything was frozen. Their armor,tunics, the tunics of their horses, even food supplies were frozen stiff, while the harsh wind from steppes threw snow on their frost bitten faces and covered their already frozen garments. The small party seemed more like a pile of snow and ice moving slowly but steadily to the North.

Last summer they had crossed the Danube, passed Bucharest and continued North. The weather had been good and the hills and steppes of the West coast of Black Sea had offered easy path towards river Dniestr, while there was plenty of game to hunt along the way, which nourished the small group of men as they rode North.

Now everything was different. As the weather got colder, the game vanished out from sight. There was still reserves of food and the men were able to catch a rabbit here and then, but the abundance of food for the men and horses was long gone.

Ioannis had left North with his men, with a single thought in his mind. To make name for himself. He had joined the Basileos in the siege of Sofia. Afterwards he had stayed in Sofia, garrisoning it with small party of local peasants recruited as militia to defend the castle. Ioannis had served loyally the Basileos and had not tried to bother him with suggestions to promote his personal glory. He had kept his silence when Anna had passed Sofia, meeting his father, but not even leaving a note to Ioannis before she left to Hungary. Ioannis had swallowed his pride and thought that there was nothing that he could do to the situation. Anna knew that he had been in the army of Basileos and Ioannis himself had made very clear to her, what his feelings towards here were.

During his time in Sofia, Ioannis had met an Astrologist, called Hynyadi. The men was locally famous of horoscopes he had made for the town people and one day Ioannis had called for him and asked the older man to compile an astrological chart for him. The old man, who was long in his stature, but very thin and had narrow face with long nose, had returned after few days to the Sofia castles keep and started explaining.

" I see much contradiction in your future,young master. There are many roads that can lead you to multiple destinations. I see a woman that your heart desires. A strong, powerful and beautiful woman, who is surrounded by suitors of many kind. I also see that stars have given lot of ambition to your own nature and that you come from a family, with long and proud history. As a son of this family, you have to thrive or perish, there simply isnt any options for ordinary and simple life for you. It is in your own hands to make your destiny. The only thing the stars will tell is that if you are looking for a great destiny, you should go North."

The horoscope had been lot longer, but the essentials were there. Ioannis had been stunned how well the old man had seen his life and after the initial meeting, many more meetings followed, where the two became friends and Ioannis started believe more and more what the old man said to him.

After writing his annual report to Basileos, Ioannis had made his decision. The answer from Basileos had been cordial. Ioannis could remain in Sofia, or go to Anatolia and join his house members, Basileos had also wrote that if needed, he could join the Imperial army in the North. It seemed like Basileos didnt really have any use to Ioannis, but as a refined man, didnt want to insult the young strator, by ordering him back to Constantinopol.

The following evening Ioannis once again met with Hunyadi. He asked the older man, what was up there in North that he should pursuit, in order to find a path to glory. The old man watched Ioannis straight to the eyes, with his piercing gaze, then moved his eyes to an flame of a candle standing on a table between the two man and started speaking with a low voice.

"North from Bucharest, there is a land between rivers Dniestr and Prut, called Bessarabia. In Ancient times this was home of Scythians,r Getai and later Dacians. When the Roman empire defeated the Dacians, the area became known as Roman province of Scythia Minor. This is the area from where Goths,Huns, Bulgarians and Magyars entered the Europe and many others before them. It is a fertile land of plains and hills between the two large rivers. Whom ever controls this area, controls the door to Europe. There you should go young Kantakouzinos and claim this ancient Roman province back to Roman Empire. From there your path to glory will begin."

After week from the cryptic augury of the old man, Ioannis had sent lan letter to Basileos that he was riding North. With only his personal retainers and the old man who had explained that his faith was bound to Ioannis faith, the small party started traveling North.

Ioannis had thought many times that he had been crazy to listen to the old man, as the conditions around their little party had gone from bad to worse. Luckily they were still all alive, all were more or less of the cold, but still the small group pushed forward with rugged determination.

After three more days in the blizzard and three nights,sleeping in a holes dug on a ground and covered in snow, the weather became better. It was still freezing cold, but the blizzard was over and sun showed its light to them after weeks of darkness. The party moved trough a small forest and on the other side they were hit by a vision, they had never anticipated.

From the side of the forest, a valley opened up and in the valley stood a wooden castle. Iasi as Ioannis had learnt from Hunyadi. But there was also something else. small fires, men and horses were surrounding the castle. After bit of observation, one of Ioannis men had spotted a flag and with further inspection the men agreed it was infact the flag of Poland. The number of mounted besiegers didnt look large, but then also it was impossible to tell how many men were inside the castle. Ioannis ordered his men inside the forest and spoke to them briefly.

"Men. We did not come this far to turn back now. We will stay here in the forest and remain hidden from the both parties. I want to see how this siege will turn out."

TheFlax

06-26-2008, 07:37

((Written in collaboration with Elite Ferret, Zim, Deguerra and PrivateerKev))

Athens, November 1094

Without any announcements or notice, a young woman entered the halls of House Asteri in a confident stride. She wore a veil, as was custom for high ranking women, yet her somber clothing of alternating shades of greys was more akin to a servant's garb than that of a noblewoman.

She addressed all present in the room with an imperious tone. "Take me to Kosmas Mavrozomis."

Hypatios was startled by her sudden entrance. Having only just returned from Rhodes he had not washed and so was embarrassed by her presence.

"My lady," he bowed deeply, so deep in fact that he stumbled and struggled to regain his balance, flushing in the process.

"Kosmas is in his private chambers at this moment, would you like me to fetch him here or will you go to him?"

A lot of the words failed to flow from his mouth freely which, as well as making him hard to understand, further added to his embarrassment.

If the princess was amused at the man's bumbling demeanor, she hid it well.

"Compose yourself and then take me to Comes Mavrozomis." She replied in a stern voice, reminiscent of a tutor berating his student for some mistake.

Hypatios expression instantly hardened.

"My lady, I understand that you are of high birth but you must also understand that I am no slave. You happen to be speaking to one of the leading nobles of this House and a personal friend to Kosmas. You may one day find me to be in a more powerful position than your father, so I discourage you from insulting me, and I know that was an insult, your subtlety cannot fool me."

The sudden change in the man was staggering, a moment ago he could barely utter a whisper yet now he spoke firmly and fluently. He smiled,

"Kosmas' chambers are this way, on the other side of the estate. I can fetch a carriage if your pampered feet cannot handle such peasant's work."

The last comment was muttered, though still audible, and thick with sarcasm and scorn. Though he did now fear whether he would seem too aggressive and pompous, despite the advice a 'wise man' had given him on how to win a woman's heart.

Anna's stern expression changed to one of exasperation.

"I need not insult those who make fools of themselves. I advise you to keep your snide comments to yourself and change your attitude, you may fall upon someone far less forgiving than I someday."
As Anna finished her admonition, foot steps could be heard approaching. Kosmas, dressed casually and bearing an easy smile, entered the room and bowed to her.

"Princess Anna, after so many unpleasant surprises these past few days it is wonderful to encounter the other kind. I trust my man Hypatios was acquainting you with the amenities of our House's headquarters?" Kosmas' facial features bore no sign that he had noticed the tension in the room but the way his eyes narrow slightly in thought as he glanced from Hypatios to the Princess suggested otherwise.

Hints of a genuine smile could be seen through Anna's veil.

"Comes Mavrozomis. It is good to see you again, I have travelled to Athens solely to meet you. I hope I shall not be disappointed. May we speak in private?"
Kosmas' smile broadened as it was met by Anna's.

"Of course. There is a room nearby where we may speak alone, right this way."

Kosmas led Anna to a small room some distance away from the Main Hall. There were a few well worn books and scrolls on a large table in the center. Close inspection revealed these to be religious texts, including a copy of the New Testament, the Septuagint, and a number of Monk's Lives. The only striking decoration in the room was a large tapestry on one wall taken up only by a giant Chi Rho symbol in white on a black background.

Kosmas quickly glanced over the room, letting his eyes rest on the tapestry a moment, before turning back to Anna.

"No one will intrude on us here. I take it from your request for privacy that there is something of importance to discuss?"

Anna nodded. "I need a ship and it is said that for now you have many under your command. I need to get to Antioch."

Kosmas' eyes narrowed for the second time that night, as if considering options. "It is true that through the kindness of the Basileus I have had access to many ships, but I am guessing that a crude transport ship would not be adequate to your needs. I own a personal ship with amenities more suiting one of your stature. If it pleases you, I can transport you and your retinue to Antioch."

Anna undid part of her veil to show a warm smile. "That is most kind of you." She turned her back to him and moved to a window. "Although, I should mention I am traveling alone. I am ready to leave whenever you can get your ship ready."

Kosmas paused a moment before bowing and speaking. "It just so happens that Comes Makedonios recently invited me to Antioch. My ship is already just about outfitted for the journey, with no more than a single day needed to finish stocking up on provisions. You will take my cabin of course, although I fear even it is not as luxurious as becomes a daughter of the Basileus. I will sleep with the crew. Is there anything you would like my servants to pick up in town tomorrow to make the trip more pleasant for you?"

She turned back to Kosmas, her head lowered, not daring looking upon him. Her voice was hesitant, as if she was struggling to say the words.

"I was hoping to get to get to Antioch inconspicuously. I... I would require some clothing more fitting... your servant."

The last words seemed especially hard for her.

Kosmas' eyes widened briefly in shock. I wonder what manner of trouble I'm letting myself get into? Recovering quickly, Kosmas smiled again, and bowed to Anna once more. "It shall be as you request. There is a servant on the grounds about your size, so procuring such clothing for you on the pretense of buying it for her should be done easily enough without arousing suspicion. The sleeping arrangement on the ship will be somewhat awkward if you are to pose as my servant, but we will figure something out. In the meantime, do you have a place to stay the night while the ship is outfitted? If not we can try to arrange something here that will not attract notice."

Not daring to face Kosmas, out of shame, she replied meekly. "I'm afraid I'll have to impose, having nowhere else to stay."

--------------------------------

A ship docked in Athens, November 1094

A sharp knock is heard on the cabin door, and without waiting for an answer, Ioannis Kalameteros entered the cabin. He had changed in the years since their last meeting. His body looked thinner, weaker; his face more gaunt. His arms still seemed slightly out of proportion, but they no longer conveyed the same strength they once did, as Ioannis had to steady himself on the doorframe. He seemed tired and much older, but the cold fire in his eyes was still the same.

Ioannis only heard a sharp gasp of surprise and caught a hint of bare flesh as Anna quickly wrapped the bed's blanket around herself in an effort to maintain her modesty. Servant's clothes laid haphazard throughout the room. For once she found herself at a loss for words, she couldn't even manage angry rebuke and her gaping mouth stayed silent. Her wide eyes fixed Ioannis in horror and shock, akin to a wild animal backed into a corner.

Taken aback for only an instant, Ioannis studied Anna with a teasing smile for slightly longer than he should. The dream of half the Strators in the Senate come true. Much prettier without all that decoration, and without the usual royal haughtiness. He turned around, averting his eyes. "Forgive my intrusion Princess, but I heard you were leaving in a hurry. It appears you have convinced Kosmas to take you to Antioch. I can spare myself the question of why, but what exactly do you think you will accomplish there?"

At his inquiries, Anna regained some of her senses. Her expression turned cold and her eyes narrowed. "Out!" she commanded in a firm and sharp voice.

Ioannis turned around. He gave the pile of servants clothes on the ground a brief, meaningful look and turned his eyes ruthlessly back on her. "I do not think you are in a position to give orders, Princess," he emphasized the last word, "I can only hope that you are going to Antioch for a very good reason. If you were found out... Well, obviously I need not tell you." He gestured to the clothes at her feet.

Covered only by a blanket, Anna managed nonetheless to keep her dignity. "Ioannis. Leave the room for an instant and when you return you will find me as compliant as someone in those clothes should be."

One last time he studied her face, trying to control a rising temper, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly with the effort. It really is a rather pretty face. "Do not try obsequious servitude with me, Anna. I want none of it, and I wouldn't believe it from you if you were scrubbing my boots." A pretty face, red with embarrassment. Deciding he had been cruel long enough, he turned around again and exited the cabin, closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, the cabin's door was silently pushed slightly ajar from the inside, inviting Ioannis back inside.When he did, he found the room had sparsely changed, save for Anna standing at a respectful distance and fully dressed as a servant.

If anything, Ioannis' mocking smile was greater at the servant's attire than the blanket. "So, Anna", he recommenced in a low voice, "just what do you intend to do in Antioch?"

She kept her eyes lowered, as if in the presence of an august being. It was hard to say if she was truly submissive or simply hiding her features from the man who confronted her. "I simply wish to speak to Makedonios, nothing more."

Ioannis' face twisted, his rage pouring out of him as he stepped in closer to her. "I told you not to try your tricks with me! Either you are actually so stupid as to blindly run to that... that man without thinking, in which case you are no more smart than a flittery little girl, or you are lying to me. I am not sure which is worse, but at least if you are lying that shows you still have your wits about you." He noticeably calmed, but continued to glare at her.

Anna remained a tower of calm, unaffected by Ioannis' outburst."If you wish to read me as you would a book, you must first learn the language in which I am written."

He gave a short laugh, his features almost seeming to strain at the effort of not frowning. "Very poetic. I'm afraid I'm not much good with literature. I do know quite a bit about people." His face grew calm again, his expression turned blank. "Whatever you plan on Antioch, is there a way I can help?"

She finally met his gaze with her own, hints of a smile visible on her features. "Do you know who wants me dead?"

Considering briefly, he answered "I do not." He shrugged, "I have my suspicions, but nothing of substance."

Anna nodded thoughtfully. "For my part, I intend to strike back. Let us simply say Makedonios will be instrumental in what I plan." She smiled. "See? That wasn't so hard."

He gave her a genuine smile: "Speak for yourself. If I can be of further assitance..." He left the words hanging in the room.

The silence persisted for some time as she scrutinized Ioannis, her eyes searching his soul. "You truly do not know anything about the attacks on my person?" She placed an emphasis on the plurality of attacks, paying a close attention to his reaction. "Or perhaps, you know something about who would hire my staff to spy on me?"

He studied her for a long time, silently. Finally he sighed. "Pay people to spy on you? Anyone would." He smiled. "I did. I know little of Verina's attack on you, but if she was paid to kill you, it was not by me."

Ioannis' words left Anna dazed and stripped her of her ability of speech for a second time.

He gave a slight smile at her startlement. "While we're being honest, why don't you tell me what your intentions are for Makedonios?"

Her pale face flushed at his question as she struggled to maintain a steady voice. "I had hoped he would lend me use of an estate owned by the Order, but now... Now you have changed my priorities Kalameteros." She spat the name like a curse. "I will try my best to make your life as miserable as I can."

Again he studied her silently. Eventually he gave a quick, mirthless laugh. "Not much one for honesty, then. As for your pathetic threats. You are in my city, surrounded by men loyal to my House, going on a voyage you wish to keep a secret to meet a man you should probably not be seen meeting, dressed as a servant. I could kill you right now. And you threaten me? You have courage, I'll give you that."

Anna gave her best smirk. "You sad little fool, do you truly think I move throughout the Empire without my father's knowledge? Although, if you wish to seal your fate and that of your House with my death, I can hardly stop you."

"Yes. It just so happens I think your father has no idea where you are. Not that it matters. As I said, if I had wanted you dead, I could have paid for it years ago. I have no quarrel with you. I only seek to understand yours with me."

Incredulity crept on her feature, while her voice remained cold and barren of emotions. "Every action you take had some unforeseen consequence. My foolish confidante tried to kill me because I happened upon her little scheme." She shook her head in disbelief. "While others are content to attempt to influence me, you go too far. You go where you should not, you tread on my life without regard to anything other than your own selfish interests and then you ask what you have done to attract my ire? I tire of your mockery, you know very well your crimes against my person."

Ioannis started shaking his head before she was even finished. "You are so much more naive than I thought. You are a Princess of the Roman Empire. People will tread on your life, and they will try to kill you, and you will get caught up in the schemings not only of a family and a court, but of an entire Empire. I have committed no crime but seeking information, and had it not been me on bribing your servant, it would have been another. One, I might add who would not be so honest about their intentions as I. So, if I may give you some advice, get thee to a nunnery, or get used to it. You may not like me for it, Princess, but I never asked you to like me. What I asked for was a business partner. Sadly, it seems my faith in your wits and intelligence was misplaced. As for your threats, do your worst. I have lost everything I held dear in this world a long time ago. Now if you will excuse me, I have wasted my time with you quite long enough."

Anna stood expressionless as she watched him leave. The exchange had left her unsure about many things, save one. Her resentment for Ioannis Kalameteros had just reached unprecedented heights.

-----------------------------------

Antioch, December 1094

A servant entered Makedonios' room. A woman dressed in plain whites and grays, her bowed head and simple linen cap covering her features. She glided without a sound to his side and whispered in his ear.

"Makedonios..."

With the reflexes of a soldier, he reached under his pillow for his dagger and pulled it out while sitting up. When he saw her face, he recognized it instantly and dropped the knife on the floor.

"Anna!"

He quickly composed himself and remembered that formalities were required.

"Forgive me for being so informal your Highness. But you startled me. What are you doing here?"

As he sat up, Anna saw that he had changed a little. He was past 30 now. A decade of pneumonia had wracked his body and left him gaunt. His right shoulder was heavily bandaged. At least now he was out of the tent and in a proper room. But his eyes were still the same. She could tell the passion in them, for both his holy mission and for her, had not gone out despite the trials he had endured.

The room was simple and spartan despite being in one of the better buildings in Antioch. A table by the bed was piled with the books Anna had sent him. Many bookmarks could be seen sticking out from them. And a stack of letters threatened to fall over onto the floor.

She took of the cap which held her hair and at last, Makedonios could take in her features fully. This time, her face was worn without any cosmetics and its flaws were revealed. Her cheeks were pale, as her face, lacking the proper red tint required for beauty and her hair was a tangled mess held by a simple wooden comb. She easily looked the part of a servant.

"I needed to see you again Makedonios, with all that has happened I needed to speak to someone I could trust." She smiled. "Considering what I am wearing and the fact I am not even supposed to be here, you can drop the formalities."

Makedonios sat back for a moment in shock as he took in her full features for the first time. She looks even better without the makeup, he thought. After staring for an awkward second, he spoke.

"I'm sorry but you do not stop being who you are all because your dressed different your Highness. While it is good to see you again, I apologize that you have to see me in such a poor condition. But I am honored by your kind words. Please, let me know what has been going on and if it is in my power to help, I will."

Anna kneeled at the side of his and looked up to him. "I fear I may first have to impart troubling news. Ioannis Kalameteros intercepted me as I came here. I know not if he will reveal my coming here to anyone, but he harangued me and threatened to kill me. In the past I have overlooked his impertinence, yet he has gone too far this time."

At first he was troubled by the fact that someone of royalty had placed themselves lower than him, so as to make him look down on them. But he quickly forgot about that when he heard the word 'kill'. His eyes narrowed and his features hardened.

"I have long grown tired of that man. If it wasn't for my friendship with Kosmas, I would have already gone to the Emperor with the evidence I have of his meddling in your affairs. But this is too far. I'll have to think of how to make him hurt without causing too much harm to his House. And if I can't think of a way to do that, then I'll just think of a way to make him hurt."

Anna had never seen Makedonios like this. He had the steely cold resolve of a soldier who just learned that the woman he was falling for had been seriously threatened. Finally, he asked, "Tell me, what exactly happened."

At those words, she proceeded to recount her latest encounter with Ioannis Kalameteros in great detail, striving to omit nothing. At first she had thought of embellishing the tale, but she soon realized it was damning enough as it was.

Makedonios shook his head. "That man truly has no morals, standards, or values. I guess being trapped on that island has warped his mind even more. You might consider going to your father with this news. With enough pressure, Kosmas will be forced to eject Ioannis or suffer his whole House being alienated in the Senate."

With his usually stone face etched with emotion he said, "I'm glad you're ok. With the two attempts on your life, and this new threat, I worry about you. I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

Anna shook her head lightly. "I cannot go to my father, unless I reveal I traveled here." Her pleasant features grew harder. "Ioannis would not dare harm me, do not worry, he is not that much of a fool. There is no need to harm his House, I only wish to see him suffer as I did whenever he insinuated himself in my life."

He nodded. "Well it's something to keep in mind. I'm sorry if I seem overbearing but I have grown... protective of you. My feelings for you have grown a great deal. Regardless of what your father decides with the issue of who you will marry, I suspect I will always feel this way."

She replied in a tender voice. "I have worried about you too." Then rose and sat beside him on the bed. "I also have a favor to ask you. You mentioned the Order having land in Konstantinopolis and I would require a building, preferably out of the way. Can you accommodate me?"

He smiled and enjoyed her closeness. "Of course. Since we require all members to turn over their belongings upon joining the Order, we have acquired a large amount of land all over the Empire. I can provide you with a building that fits your needs."

"I can also guarantee your privacy and security there. While the land owned by the Order is a matter of public record, they won't know which one your in. Plus, the number of properties in the city under our control is numerous. People would have difficulty watching them all. And no one but me will know which one your occupying. As for security, I can detail men I trust to guard the building who won't talk or ask questions."

"Now, you said Ioannis intercepted you on the way here so discussing him was not the reason you originally came. And you could have asked about the building in a letter. What brought you to take such risks in traveling here? Is there something else you want or need to discuss?"

Anna rose and turned to stand before him. "Actually, I simply wanted to see you and since the building is crucial for what I plan, I did not wish to risk a letter. Now that I am here, is there anything you wish to say before I leave?"

Oh only about a million things, but they can wait for when circumstances are happier, he thought. While he wished to find excuses to postpone her leaving, he knew she had to get back.

"It was good to see you your Highness. It means a lot to me that you came all this way just to talk to me in person. Just please be careful and do not hesitate to write to me if you need anything or want to talk. I'm sorry I could not show you around the city. Perhaps next time when I feel better."

Anna placed the crude cap on her head once more. "May God watch over you Makedonios so that I may have the pleasure of your company, sooner rather than later. Farewell." Promptly, she turned and left the room in hurried steps.

AussieGiant

06-27-2008, 22:52

(Coop with OverKnight)

Bucharest, 1093

Apionnas looked down with some trepidation at the city below, holes in the wall where being repaired and an Orthodox church was being constructed near it’s centre. The final part of his journey into the city seemed to flash by, before he realised his surroundings he was being ushered into a rather run down building which was being used by the Basileus as some sort of Royal lodging.

As the steady cadence of his riding boots echoed through the hall his apprehension levels rose, was it relief or frustration? Either feeling was better than the years of the waiting, negotiation and discussion that had taken place prior to the meeting he had now finally secured. Certainly his handling of state affairs in Constantinople had gone well enough. The Basileus seemed to have finally used independent reports on his success as a reason to grant him this vital face to face meeting.

Calming himself using the methods taught to him by his now dead Amir, he finally nodded to the court official who had been patiently waiting before presenting him to the Basileus. With one hand on his scimitar and the other making the sign of good luck he proceeded forward into his self created “breach”.

Apionnas found himself ushered into a study off of the courtyard.

Basileus Aleksios was seated at a table reviewing reports. Harald Sigurdson, the Varangian Captain, stood impassively in the corner, a giant axe slung over his back and a hand resting on the pommel of dagger that hung from his belt.

The Emperor looked up, put down the reports and spoke, "Come in, Senator Apionnas. I apologize for the informality, but the occupation of Bucharest has taken up much of my time. Please have a seat".

Taking the offered seat Apionnas began to study the man he had come to meet.

There seemed to be no outward sign of his intent and it was impossible to determine his frame of mind from the set of his features. The man was clearly used to being observed and had certainly mastered the art of concealing his thoughts from others.

Aleksios put down the reports and looked at the young man over tented fingers.

"Your competent administration of the capital in my absence has been noticed. I appreciate it, and so you have the audience you requested. What do you wish of me?"

Taking a moment to consider his opening statement Apionnas steeled himself and began.

“As we have discussed my lord, I wish to give my service and that of my family's, to you and your family, for as long as we draw breath.

This is one of the most potent and effective terms of service I have been exposed to in my time living in the East. Only the Sultan and his family may take on these types of bonds as it creates a certain, independence, from other influence.”

Taking a moment to consider the younger man's wording the Basileus finally responded.

"You offer of service is gratifying, however, let me be blunt, you will not advance in Empire or any House unless you convert to Christianity. The Empire employs mercenaries and soldiers of many faiths, but the nobility is Christian. If you continue to openly profess the religion of your enslavers, you will remain an oddity and a subject of suspicion.

"If I did become your patron, I would no doubt have objections from the Patriarch and some of the more dogmatic members of the Senate. Whatever you would bring to the table would have to outweigh that. You have shown yourself a capable governor, but that is not enough."

Taking a moment to assess his options Apionnas decided to fall back on his instincts and training.

Move forward, press the point, see what follows. His Amir’s words once again where the guiding force.

With that decision made, his eyes narrowed as he began the most important statement of his short life.

"My Lord, whether I convert to Christianity or not, this simply does not affect my ability to serve you. If that is the primary concern then I will simply keep my religion hidden to all those who wish to pry. As far as anyone else is concerned they will be totally unable to determine my faith in either direction.

"Please note, I do not necessarily wish command at this time, although that is what I have been trained to do all my life. Having seen the troop reports from across the Empire I am fully aware of the limited resources at your disposal.

"But, what I am asking for is your patronage, in return there is this: While others have their own allegiances and therefore agenda's…I will not. I am yours to command completely outside the structure of any of the noble houses.

"I can imagine a number of instances where a 'Special Governor' might be needed for any troubled provinces. Perhaps a 'Special Commander' for any tough battles or command positions that require a 'trustworthy' noble to ensure results are to your liking.

"More over, voting rights would be at your disposal rather than independent or as part of a wider House's agenda that may not be in line with your intentions. The options are unlimited once you put your mind to it my lord. The structures I see built into the governance of your Empire seem wholly decentralised. This is something that can be influenced by just such an arrangement.

"My lord, I do not suggest an open form of oath giving unless you wish it, more appropriate would be a private oath given to you and your family. In my culture this type of service is bound until one of the families cease to exist. I would serve you, your son and as many of your family as you deem necessary until I die. Once that occurs then my son would continue this service. Customarily this 'oath of service' is kept hidden from others and is entirely a private matter.

"Some Emperor's have informed their son's ahead of time, other have left the arrangement in their will, others have informed their next of kin while on their death bed. Of course the one item in my possession would be a copy of this private oath which ensures I can carry on this 'oath of service' to your son should you be unable to inform him prior to your demise.

"As you have been to me my lord, I will be as blunt and direct towards you if I may. Your nobles know nothing of the east, I do. In fact I can advise you on most matters ranging from as far west as France and as far east as you can imagine; Strategy, tactics, mentality and terrain, the list is endless. I have one advantage over any others when it comes to the east, I have been there. I have seen it and I can ensure prior knowledge of many aspects of what you and your Empire will encounter. I've spent 10 years being taught the skills of Islamic war and it is something beyond comprehension to people from the west.

"This is what I can offer my lord and for that I can ensure my faith is no issue and my uniqueness is 'your' asset."

For a moment it seemed as if he had gone too far. The intensity of his voice and the white knuckled grip on his scimitar was a testament to his feelings. The two men paused. Eye contact was only relinquished by the younger man when he glanced at the Varangian Captain who had stirred slightly at the tension growing in the room.

Aleksios sighed, "You no doubt have much to share, Apionnas. However, as much as you might wish it, The Empire does not keep politics and religion separate. Part of my role as Basileus is to be God's Vice-Regent on Earth. I can hardly have a Muslim as part of my retinue."

Apionnas responded instantly. His conviction clear in his voice, “Islam, Catholic, heathen, I see no real difference in men when it comes to religion my lord. We are all here and we are all going to die. If a man wants to choose one faith over another, then so be it.”

The Basileus grunted, half amused and half frustrated.

"Whatever your other talents Senator, you are quite stubborn."

Aleksios drummed his fingers on the table while he paused to think.

"Here is my offer: My patronage and this town, Bucharest, in exchange for your loyal service to the Komnenoi. However, you must convert. I will ask the Patriarch to have one of his senior clergymen baptise you on his behalf. You gain a patron, I gain a follower and we throw the Patriarch a bone. It will hopefully make him more tractable in the future."

The Basileus leaned forward and spoke again quietly, "That is my best offer, Apionnas Vringas, take it or leave it."

With that, Apionnas made his most significant decision of his life.

“I accept. I will convert to the Orthodox faith and renounce the religion of Islam and the teaching of the Koran.”

The Basileus smiled, "Good, I knew that you would see reason. An uncommon trait for some Senators. I will contact the Patriarch and arrange your induction into the Church. My wife and I will stand as your Godparents when you are baptised to formalise our arrangement."

The Basileus stood and offered his signet ring to Apionnas, "Please, stay and familiarise yourself with your new province, Comes."

Taking a knee Apionnas spoke his first and only oath.

“I, Apionnas Vringas, Strator of Byzantium, herby pledge my eternal service and that of my family to the House of Komnenos and all its members so long as breath is drawn from our bodies. We renounce the teachings of Islam and all holy text of the Koran and convert fully to the scriptures of the Orthodox Christian faith.”

The Basileus smiled as he looked down at Apionnas and spoke again, "Amen."

OverKnight

06-28-2008, 13:24

(Coop with Ignoramus)

Constantinople, 1095

Ioannis marched boldly towards his father's private chambers within the Imperial Palace. The guards respectfully retired as they saw the Caesar coming towards them.

"Greetings father! I trust your campaign did you well?" began Ioannis.

The Basileus smiled as he looked up from reading a letter. He motioned his son to a seat beside him.

"Hello Ioannis. A bit of luck in Sofia with our agent, he found some citizens who wished for the return of the Empire's rule and they opened the gates. Bucharest took a bit longer, but I was able to take that pirates' lair easily enough."

Aleksios leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "The trick will be in having the locals accept the true faith. I hope the new Church will help."

Putting aside the letter he asked his son, "And how was your campaign in Anatolia? More than one close call with the Turks it seems."

"It was," agreed Ioannis, "but thankfully we managed to outpace them. Comes Chrysovergos is hoping to return all of Pontus to your rule. The Turkish horsemen are of little use in besieging coastal cities. We can simply bring in supplies by sea."

Turning seriously to his father, Ioannis looked him squarely in the eye. "Father, we have done well so far in managing the Magnaura, but I am worried about how long we can manage to hold them in check. They're baying for war against almost anyone they can think of. One would think we were a pack of Huns under Attila."

Aleksios drummed his fingers on the table, thinking for a moment, and then spoke, "While there are a few Senators who would be more suited to a life of pillaging and rapine, I would not make the mistake of lumping the entire Senate into that category. Senator Ampelas seeks a more moderate path. Even Senator Tagaris wishes to show mercy to the cities we capture.

"For all the talk of war, the Edict authorizing may not even be seconded. Surely that is encouraging?"

Sighing, Ioannis continued, "Yes, but how long can it last? Sooner or later we will find ourselves fighting both the Catholics and the Moslems at the same time. Remember how that scoundrel Bohemond and his father threatened war against us? Thankfully, his father is dead and the son disinherited, but his ambition knows no bounds. I would not like to be facing him and the Turks at the same time.

"At the moment there is no discontent amongst the nobles, but as this past century has shown, establishing a dynasty is anything but easy."

Aleksios nodded, "Too true. War will come, one way or the other. I hope the Senate will have the wisdom to wait, so we can initiate hostilities at a time and place of our choosing when we are fully prepared.

"As for a dynasty, I'm just content that my reign has already been longer than that of any of the last eleven Emperors, including the last three added together. Think of that, my son, and weep for the Empire."

AussieGiant

06-29-2008, 14:30

Constantinople, 1095

Apionnas sat in the governors chambers.

Around him the staff where preparing for his imminent departure. Final word from the Basileus was all that was left. His time in the capital had certainly been beneficial as the city was a hub for much of the Empires administration. Having a clear picture of the economy and military situation was something he was going to have to work a lot harder at from the town of Bucharest.

He looked down once more at the Arabic letters in front of him and recalled the final words spoken to him before his compatriots left for Cairo.

Traitor, infidel, the list was longer and far more disparaging that he could have believed. Explaining why he had made his decision to comrades that had fought with him for a decade had fallen on deaf ears.

Moreover on their final meeting one of them had handed him a note. It was short, to the point and ominous.

The flowing words of the Arabic letters were a stark contrast to the meaning held within them.

"The Sultan has reformed the Mansuriyya slave regiment.

All survivors of the massacre at Adana shall report to Cairo in the month of June in the year 1100. If they do, not they will face eternal damnation, be branded cowards and traitors to the Sultan.

The penalty, death by dismemberment.

Grand Visier"

Zim

06-30-2008, 08:08

Mavrozomis estate, Athens, Late summer 1095

In a small room in the Mavrozomis estate, sparsely furnished with only a table and a pair of chairs, two men are seated one summer night, far later than one would expect to find members of the household awake. One of the men is seated in a corner of the room, his features shrouded by a heavy cloak. The only readily apparent identifying features he has are the fact that he is slightly above average height, and the bit of light colored hair peeking out from under the hood of his cloak. Well, those and a small symbol on the left breast of his cloak, obscured by the darkness and folds of fabric.

The other man is seated at the table. He is of average height, with dark hair. Despite being in his night clothes, the dark circles under his eyes suggest he has been awake to this hour rather than roused from bed for the meeting. Although likely once of medium build, the man looks thin now, as if from long illness or lack of food, his skin drawn tight over sunken cheekbones. Acquaintances of the man would recognize him as Kosmas Mavrozomis, comes of Athens, although they'd remark on his haggard appearance.

Kosmas sits hunched over the table, writing on a sheet of paper. His hand shakes as he writes, though whether from illness or fear it is hard to say. Every few sentences he looks up at the other man in the room, who nods and motions for him to continue. This goes on for a short while, until it appears he is finally finished. Kosmas signs the letter with his seal, stands and shows it to the other man, who nods and takes it from him. As the man then leaves, Kosmas lets out a sigh of relief. He sits down again at the table and falls asleep with his head resting in in arms, where his servants will find him that morning.

While it is impossible to say for sure what Kosmas wrote for his guess that night, shortly after their meeting a letter with his seal begins to circulate, it's contents causing some amount of stir among those close to House Asteri. Nonetheless, when asked Kosmas affirms it completely, and friends of his note that his health is returning, although gauntness seems to have been exchanged for a haunted look, and he can be found frequently looking over his shoulder, and jumping at sudden noises.

The contents of the letter are as follows:

I, Kosmas Mavrozomis, Comes of Athens,
find myself no longer able to lead House Asteri due to poor health and the stress inherent in the position. For the good of my House and my health, I hereby grant dominion over Athens to Ioannis Kalameteros, and allow him to voluntarily rescind his oath to me, so that he may become House leader. As I wish to remain of service to House Asteri, I swear an oath of fealty to Nevoulos ek Philadelphius.

TinCow

06-30-2008, 15:15

Zagreb, 1095 AD

Torchlight spilled across the rampart, marking the passage of a patrolling guard. Randolf touched his squatting companion on the knee, halting his silent count.

“The count was five hundred and forty three,” the man whispered.

Even in the deep shadows of the thick brush, Randolf’s grin was wide enough to gleam in the meager starlight. “The garrison is even smaller than we had been told.” He took a fistful of dirt and began to sprinkle it absentmindedly. “A five hundred count, I could never have imagined we would be so lucky. We could march an entire regiment up to the wall before an alarm was even sounded.”

The dark cloaked companion nodded in agreement. “So the plan will go forward then?”

Randolf turned and looked back towards the walls of Zagreb, once again dark as the guard disappeared around a bend, not to replaced by another for a very long time. The Byzantine Empire had expanded with unprecedented ferocity over the previous decade. At first, it had been a minor affair, considered by most of the Catholic nations as an internal situation. After all, settlements such as Arta, Durazzo, Scopia, and Sofia had long been part of the Byzantine Empire. Their reconquest was nothing more than the Emperor reasserting his authority over his own lands.

Yet, the conquests had not stopped there. Belgrade and Bucharest had soon fallen to their armies as well, both territories to which the Byzantines had questionable claims. True, that had been under the control of Constantinople in recent decades, but they had been ruled by the Bulgarians for nearly five hundred years before Basileus Basil II had reconquered them in 1018. Much of the populations remained Catholic and they had had no love for Greek culture or authority. As if that were not enough, the Byzantines had pressed their western ambitions even further, towards Iasa and Zagreb. Their claims to these lands were even more tenuous, and the population even less hospitable. While the former had so far eluded their grasp, Zagreb had fallen unexpectantly.

The tales of the fall of Zagreb had reached even Randolf’s modest manor in Lydham. The man responsible, Methodios Tagaris, was apparently renowned for his chivalry, yet that had not been enough to appease those he conquered. The population was discontent and rioting soon broke out. The Byzantines had prevented a full-scale revolt, but the people were greatly displeased with their new rulers and the situation was tenuous.

At the same time, this sudden expansion of Byzantine territory had alarmed many Catholic noblemen. Yet, none of the nations of Christ had been willing to confront their unbridled aggression. There had been movements for war within several nations, but they had been struck down by their various Kings in the interests of ‘peace.’ Peace indeed. This pacifism was simply allowing the Emperor to establish a foothold from which he would never be dislodged. Heretical Orthodoxy would spread across all of Europe from that bastion of power. Why, even Italy and the Holy Roman Empire were within range of armies operating out of Zagreb. Appeals had been made to the Pope to call forth a Crusade against Constantinople, but he had been unwilling to make an enemy of the Byzantines. He continued to proclaim that the Muhammadans were the foremost threat, despite their isolation in the East.

So, with no one else to call upon for aid, individual men, of common blood and noble alike, had gone eastwards to do what they could to confront this threat to Catholicism. As they met, they formed into small bands, and then into regiments, and finally into armies. Randolf of Lydham had been nominated by near unanimous consent to lead them. The disgruntled local populations had swelled their numbers as they had approached their targets. These same men provided an excellent source of intelligence, as they could come and go within the cities without suspicion.

As it turned out, the Byzantine expansion had been so sudden, that the garrisons in many settlements had yet to arrive. They were guarded by feeble forces which had barely the resources to keep order, let alone repel a full-scale attack. They were not even sufficient to scout the nearby lands for enemies, and as such the advancing armies had gone unnoticed. Such arrogance would be repaid in full.

Word had reached Randolf’s camp west of Zagreb that the Byzantine aggression in the East had spawned a similar response from the Muslim residents, particularly at Sinop. The Muhammadans and Pagans had rallied around some renegade priest who had take up the unlikely name of Spartacus, obviously in an attempt to incite a similar rebellion against the Eastern Romans as his predecessor had done against the Roman Republic. With rebellions appearing on both sides of the Empire, it was the perfect time to strike. The armies had been dispersed to launch attacks all across the western frontier, in an effort to liberate the unjustly claimed cities from the Byzantine foes. Randolf’s army at Zagreb was the strongest, but the armies sent to Belgrade and Bucharest were strong as well, more than capable of defeating the meager and neglected garrisons of those cities.

And so it was that Randolf of Lydham was to be found squatting outside the walls of Zagreb in the dark of night, counting the frequency of the garrison’s patrols. He looked at his companion and nodded. “It is time. The Byzantines will pay for their folly.”

-----------------

Note: This is an Event for the purposes of Rule 1.5. Due to the slightly shortened Megas term, it has technically only been 9 turns since the previous event. I like the idea of having them timed to correspond with the normal Senate Sessions, though, so I’m going to go ahead with this one right now. If anyone has a problem with it occurring 1 turn early, let me know and I will delay it one turn.

This Event will result in the creation of large Rebel armies which will be placed outside of Zagreb, Belgrade, Bucharest, Sinop, and possibly a couple more cities. The army outside Zagreb will be led by the rebel general Randolf of Lydham (a chivalrous fellow in southern italy) and the heretic priest Spartacus (in Arabia I think) will be placed near the army at Sinop. I will then attempt to take control of the rebel faction through console commands and move the armies myself to attack the Byzantines. Any avatar inside a threatened city will have one turn to flee before the city is besieged. Anyone who remains inside a besieged city will be at serious risk of death. If this turns out not to be possible (I’ve only ever tried with normal factions, not the rebels), I will instead let the rebel armies sit where they are and instead take control of the taxation of the cities. They will be increased until the population is rioting and I will remain in full control of the taxation until the rebel armies in each of these provinces are defeated. At that time the taxation will revert to the control of the province owners.

Please be aware that I have not yet made the proper changes to the save game, so it is not currently available. It will be done and made available this evening for you to look at. Remember, Events can be blocked by a simple majority vote, if that is desired.

Ramses II CP

06-30-2008, 21:59

It was the dream again. Vissarionas ek Lesvou was back on the fields southwest of Antioch. His guardsmen, slowed by long years of bloodless, boring siege and the endless grind of training in the field, had taken far too long to mount up on the Grandmaster's command and now the ill equipped militia from Antioch had managed to melt away into the countryside. Dozens of nearly unrecognizable men flooding out of the gates, perhaps just fleeing the conditions within, but perhaps seeking reinforcements from the hard used villages surrounding the city. A decade of foraging had not been kind to the peasants of the Levant, and while few of them would find the courage to bear arms against the Order of St. John, fewer still would aid or love the Orthodox soldiers.

With the host assembled at last the sergeants of the Order turned as one and rode along the walls of the city. None of them thought to check the gates or look back to see how the general advance was proceeding, their eyes and will were bent with utter absorption to the first truly exciting task they'd had since the siege began; hunting down the deserters from the garrison.

Hours later, having split to search, rejoined to plan, split again to question villagers, and finally come back together wholesale the mounted men had rounded up about sixty sickly looking prisoners. The slow march back to camp was not met by any messengers, and so the sight of the nearly empty camp with only the Grandmaster's tent abuzz with activity was a shock. Where were the common troops? Where were the captains?

In his tent Makedonios was clearly recovering from his wound, if slowly due to his illness, but he could not yet speak to relate what the situation was within the walls. Vissarionas' siege slowed mind was still trying to come to terms with the whole sequence when Rafi, now Vissa's page, ran up and pointed to a thin stream of smoke rising above the city,

'There must be fighting in the city! The men need you!'

Vissa nodded, 'Ride with me Rafi, but keep your wits and ride clear of any engagements; you're not equipped for street fighting!'

Weary to the bone from the long chase into the countryside, and uncertain of the situation within Antioch, Vissarionas ek Lesvou and the sergeants of the Order nonetheless found the strength to drive their mounts to a gallop and reached the open gates of Antioch in some haste. Within the walls the situation was difficult to grasp. All along the main thoroughfare shattered doors littered the streets, partially covering a few splashes of deep red blood. The sergeants split up, some making east and west along the inner wall to secure the city gates and seek fighting, while others attempted to find any Greek speaking citizen who might tell the tale. Vissarionas' stomach had begun to twist as his suspicions grew. Calling to his guards to ride hard he bore down at the forefront and, with Rafi at his side, made for the square.

As he neared the large open space of the square he began to pass groups of women, many of them weeping and wailing as though they'd seen the end times come. Some carrying small children with the shellshocked look of the half dead. No few of the kids had hands streaked with red, and most of the women's skirt hems were darkened by drying blood.

At the wide end of the street a crowd of older women and teenage boys remained to block the view. Hearing horses at a full gallop, and seeing the tabards of the Order on the riders, they scattered with terrified looks at the soldiers. A few of the boys carried rocks, but the sight of the heavily armoured horsemen ensured most of the rocks returned to the street. At last the path to the square cleared, and Vissa could see...

...and smell...

...and even taste...

...death. Hanging thick in the air, like a blanket of flies and filth over the very surface of the earth. The unholy, unimaginable stench of it, fit to warp even the most pure intent. A towering rage overtook Vissarionas as he cast about for what enemy could be so vile as to have committed this black act, what ungodly race of demons brought forth this slaughter! Nearly all the remaining peasants now scurried away under that gaze, and even the boldest slunk into the shadows of nearby buildings.

...but surrounding the piled dead were no enemies, no imagined Muslim blackguards, towering ten feet tall and leering like beasts. No, around the square, many still carrying weapons running red with the blood of innocents, were the soldiers of the Order of St. John. White and purple tabards stained nearly black with blood. Gore covered boots tramped from structure to structure on every side of the square.

Rage fled from Vissa as quickly as it had come, and reluctantly, painfully he forced his eyes back to the mounds of dead. Most were yet intact, not hacked apart in cruelty, simply killed. They wore no armor. They were ill fed, and badly clothed. Here and there a body might carry some mark of service in the city militia, but most were simple peasants.

Not one bore a weapon.

His mouth twisted as though a dung beetle were rolling it's precious cargo within his cheeks. A thin, dry croak was the first sound to emerge from Vissa, but then he took hold of himself and managed to bark out,

'Back. Ride back now Rafi. Carry my sword back to my tent now Rafi. Go on boy, ride! Do not return. I will come for you.'

Perhaps it was foolish to go among the recently conquered people of Antioch armed only with a dagger, but suddenly Vissarionas couldn't bear the sight of his blade, with it's mark of noble St. John on the hilts. Touching briefly on the thought of drawing it from it's scabbard, even in self defense, nearly unhinged his sanity, and he turned his mind away, towards other things. Rising in the distance across the square, perhaps two hundred yards from where he now sat, was the ornate facade of Antioch's main Orthodox church. Waving a command at his guardsmen to remain where they were Vissa strode as fast as he could manage to the stone steps of the minor cathedral, intent on seeking guidance in prayer.

Nearly running up the few steps Vissarionas was about to step into the building when he realized that his last footfall had squelched.

An audible groan escaped him. His gaze tracked gradually downward, from the beautiful, sacred doors of the church to the simple stone steps and at last to his own blood drenched boots. Further back, pulling his body all the way around, he saw a bloody print on each step he'd taken ascending towards the holy structure. Beyond that his eyes moved on away from the holy place, and following his path across the slaughterhouse of the square left him now with his back turned firmly on the church at his gaze locked on the piled corpses the victims of the siege of Antioch.

There the dream ended.

The parallel was obvious. If he entered that church to seek guidance regarding his part in the hideous acts of the day, would he not be commiting a sacrilege and implicating the Orthodox church in these sins? If the Order claimed to obey God's will then what part of the capture of Antioch was in accordance with it?

Vissa had puzzled over and fought with these issues for months, and finally for years. Rafi had felt him withdraw, and at a time when the young man needed guidance the most, but had stood with him. He had gone about his daily duties as if in a dream, spending as little time in Antioch as possible. With the Senate now in session Vissa had found himself unable to participate, no longer certain enough of who he was or what sort of House he had joined to espouse an opinion. Now, however, the vote had been called. Duty required that he fulfill his obligation, both as a senator and as a member of the Order. Duty could not be denied, not even for a man who believed himself to be bereft of honor and perhaps even undeserving of his place in life.

Duty called, but also... penance. He must inform his brothers and then seek the Patriarch.

As he turned to go Vissarionas recalled something one of the more erudite brothers had read to him from a book in the Order's library. (From the Wheel of Time books): Death is lighter than a feather, duty is heavier than a mountain.

:egypt:

flyd

07-01-2008, 00:52

Constantinople, 1095

"Are you asleep?"

"Huh? What?" Makrianos awoke from a light slumber. "No. Not at all."

"Good, because I would like to continue our conversation," said Eirene, "the one we were having before we digressed somewhat."

"Yes," Markianos responded, "how we digressed indeed! But I distinctly recall initially hiring you as a spy, not as some sort of a political advisor."

Eirene was quick with a comeback, "I think our initial agreement became void when you started courting me."

"Hey!" Markianos was not yet admitting defeat, "Let the record show that you smiled at me first. I was a victim. In any case, I really shouldn't be discussing sensitive political things."

Eirene was going to say something, but Markianos was quick to realize his grave mistake. He continued, "that's not to say that I don't trust you. That is not the case at all. It's just that certain things are not for discussion... to certain... at certain... times." He had backed himself into a corner and there was no escape. He had to concede, and continue making the point he was making five to forty minutes ago (depending on who you ask).

"It seems it was only the Order who bet on the wrong chariot. I can't say I've taken it personally, but the whole thing has not endeared them to me greatly. I thought they were above plotting and scheming, but it is strange that a bunch of holy men, who publicly claim to follow the Patriarch's proclamations that we should not war with the westerners, would support Tagaris who has never disclaimed that he wishes to instigate a war with them, but not declare it so as to circumvent the wills of the Senate, Basileus, and the Patriarch.

"It seems strange that the Order would support him, and I expect secret agreements to have taken place, which hardly seems befitting what the Order claims publicly to be. But they did sack Antioch too, so they're a strange bunch of holy men by every definition of 'holy men'! Still, I don't exactly wish to see them destroyed, but they won't come to expect support from me more than the minimum they need to survive, especially if these rumors of revolts are accurate, for we'll need much resources at home.

"As for Tagaris, well, he is now in the most isolated and most poorly garrisoned city we have, and is directly responsible for any revolts in the area. Further yet, he planned to take more cities and defend them weakly, so he looked to start even more revolts. And do they not say that whatever a man will sow, that he will also reap?"

Eirene giggled. "I like it when you're being treacherous."

"What? That's not treachery. It's in the Bible, sweetie. I won't give him any less than he deserves, but it isn't much."

"Yes," she said, "but it just so happens that all those you have complaints about are the ones who voted against you. That makes it treacherous."

"Not at all," he responded, "I have clearly outlined the reasons, and they extend far beyond poor voting choices. Besides, there are Senators who voted for me whom I dislike."

"Vringas?"

"No, not really. The conversion makes me less suspicious, and the Basileus will be able to keep an eye on him. I'm not too worried. I was referring to that Michail Arianitis."

"What has he done?"

"Why, he has taken over the White Team and found them some new racer. Supposed to be good, too."

Eirene laughed. "So? That's just chariot racing."

"What?" said Markianos with great surprise. "How can it be just chariot racing? How is it even possible to construct that sentence! Just chariot racing. I dare say it's the most ridiculous thing I have heard in a while."

"Oh, stop it," she said, "I just don't see how it's that important. Chariots go around the track, one of them does it the fastest. Everybody goes home, you know, to worry about more serious things."

"More serious things? Fine. I'm going to sleep."

Privateerkev

07-01-2008, 15:17

This story is a co-op between myself and OK.

1095: Constantinople, right before leaving for Antioch.

Makedonios walked down the hallway with a cane in one hand and holding a rag to his mouth with the other. The Senate session had gone relatively well and there was just one thing to do before returning to Antioch. The Grandmaster approached the double doors to the Emperor's chambers in the Palace. As the guards stood by, an aid checked a list. Seeing that Makedonios had an appointment, he nods to the guards who open the doors.

The Emperor sees a man different from when he last saw him. While still tall, and with a head of shoulder-length blonde hair, Makedonios stands stooped over a cane. He holds a rag over his mouth and periodically coughs into it. His face is sweating profusely and his skin is pale. What Alexios doesn't know is that this is one of Makedonios's better days. It is not often that he is even able to leave his bed anymore.

Dressed simply in plain white loose fitting clothes, Makedonios does the best he can to stand at attention.

The Basileus, seated at a desk, looked up from a letter he was reading. If he was taken aback by Makedonios's appearance, it did not show. Motioning him to a seat, Aleksios spoke.

"Senator, you look dreadful. Can I have a servant bring you some mulled wine? You should take advantage of the baths while in the city."

Makedonios clumsily plops down in the chair with as much grace as someone in his condition can manage.

"No thank you, though I might need some water before we are done. I seem to have caught something while sieging Antioch and I have never quite shaken it."

The man takes a moment to cough. It is partly necessary and partly to buy a moment while he works up the strength to give the most important pitch in his life.

"My Emperor, thank you for meeting with me. I know your busy and I will get right to the point. I sent you a letter asking for your daughter's hand in marriage years ago and I have still received no reply from you. If it wasn't for your daughter informing me, of your belief that choosing me for her husband would not benefit you enough politically, I would have thought the letter lost in the mail. But, we've all gotten older. Time is passing and I wanted to take the chance to make my case in person."

Another cough and Makdonios continues.

"Your Highness, quite simply I am prepared to offer you something no other man would dare offer you. And that is something concrete. I'm sure the other suitors have all promised vague assurances of their loyalty, or the loyalty of their vassals. I'm sure they even mean it for now. But what will happen when the Lord takes you and your son ascends the throne? Will those men be there for him? Somehow I doubt it. I however will offer you something tangible and immediate."

After pausing for a second for dramatic effect, Makedonios says simply, "I will offer to go away."

Aleksios's right eyebrow quirked upwards at this, the only sign of emotion he had shown through the Grandmaster's monologue.

Letting the statement hang there for a moment, Makedonios explained.

"I care about your daughter and I want her to be happy. I had naively hoped that would be enough for you. But not everyone travels in the same language I use and I am trying to catch up. So I will make a political argument as for why I am the best choice for your daughter. Quite simply, I am the greatest political opponent your son will ever face. While you have done a good job at holding the Empire together and making sure everyone shares in the wealth, your son's words in the Magnaura, and in letters to me, make me believe he is not as fair. If he pushes too hard, which I believe he will, he will marginalize himself. Now, as a founder of a dynasty, I believe you want what every founder wants, and that is to know the dynasty will continue with success."

The Basileus began to drum his fingers on the desk between them.

Knowing he was treading on dangerous ground by bringing up the Caesar, Makedonios paused for a moment, took the chance to cough into his napkin, and pushed on.

"What I am giving you is a chance to dramatically alter the political landscape right now in a way that will definitely benefit your son. If you pick me as the Princess's suitor, then on our wedding day, I will step down as Grandmaster of the Order of St. John. I will even give my province to my second in command. I will remain forever ineligible to hold any sort of decision making position in the Order. I will simply be a Strator. Probably for the rest of my life. Now I know this was not the sort of grand political alliance that you were hoping to secure. But no other Senator will give you this deal because no other Senator cares for your daughter like I do. They all see her as some prize to win or some tool to help them advance politically. I just want to see her happy. And I am willing to give up everything I have to help make that happen."

Aleksios cooly stared at Makedonios for a few seconds and then spoke, "Why don't you have some water, your mouth must be dry."

The Basileus stood and went to a sideboard in the room. Pouring some water into a silver cup he came over and placed it front of Makedonios. Leaning against the desk he folded his arms across his chest and looked down on him.

"So let me summarize your offer: In return for my daughter's hand you will promise not to be 'the greatest political opponent' my son and your new brother-in-law 'will ever face'. You also offer to give up leadership of your Order if married, something required by its rules anyway. You also state that you, and only you, are capable of making my daughter happy."

Aleksios paused, shook his head slightly and spoke again.

"I must say, you have a high opinion of yourself and the power you wield."

Makedonios took a moment to drink some water and evaluate the situation.

"It would indeed be presumptuous to think this about myself. But it is those in the Senate that let me know I am on the road to being powerful when they oppose my Order with faulty arguments. And your son lets me know he considers me a threat by demanding that I stop expanding. And not only that, but demands I give Antioch up. These things tell me that some in the Senate are quite frightened. I admit, power was not my goal when I formed the Order. I just wanted an organization of like-minded men to help the Empire guard the Holy Land."

Taking another drink, Makedonios took a gamble.

"As for my claim that I can make your daughter happy, those are her words Sir, not mine. I know she talked to you about me. But her words obviously did not sway you. So now it is up to me to try to change your mind. But it is what a man does when he is falling in love with a woman."

Aleksios crossed to a window and took in the view as he pondered his response.

"Anna spoke of you as her favorite suitor, though not in the exact same terms you have used. Yet there is much more to marriage among the nobility than love, particularly when it concerns the daughter of the Basileus. I am more than just her father, I am the paterfamilias of the Komnenoi and leader of the Roman Empire. As a Princess she does not have the luxury of marrying for love. She will marry to advance the interests of her family and to strengthen the Empire. If it ends up a love match, so much the better, but it is not the primary goal."

The Basileus turned to Makedonios.

"You simply do not have enough to offer. I will not have my daughter marry a Strator. Nor will I have my daughter marry to ward off an implied threat of future sedition. You have asked for the hand of my daughter and my answer is no."

Sitting there calmly, Makedonios plays his last card.

"Alright, if you feel that way, then I will join your son's House and ensure the family line stays within a House loyal to you. I will also serve him for the rest of my life. While he certainly has men who have promised to that now, I can offer more. His biggest political enemy would turn into his biggest supporter. He would become my family. If that does not sway you, I do not know what else will. But I highly doubt the Princess's other suitors have offered anything so concrete."

The Basileus rubbed the bridge of his nose, "You don't understand Makedonios. The point of a political marriage is to bind one House to another. The rules of the Order negate this, as would you joining Ioannis's House."

Aleksios returned to the desk and sat down.

"This is an academic discussion anyway."

The Basileus held up the letter he had been reading when Makedonios had entered, "I have already chosen a husband for Anna."

Makedonios raised an eyebrow. Knowing the Emperor probably wouldn't tell him who it was, he decided to guess. He had nothing left to lose.

"Something you said keeps going around in my head. You said you won't marry her to a Strator. And now you say you want to bind a House. But which one? Tagamata basically exists to serve you. Your son's House is already loyal to him since they know he'll be Emperor one day. I don't see you taking Tapeki seriously. It wouldn't be one of the independents. It's not the Order. So it's someone in Asteri."

A bad feeling started to develop in Makedonios the more he thought it out.

"It would have to be someone high up. Wouldn't be Kosmas since he is pretty much family. Plus he retired. Anastatios is a butcher. Zigavinos and Nevoulos aren't high enough up. Hypatios the Hypatos is crazy..."

All of a sudden it dawned on him who it probably was and Makedonios's gut wrenched into a ball. He found himself coughing into a rag. Finally he spoke with an icy calm.

"Your Highness, tell me, what has your daughter told you of Ioannis Kalameteros?"

As Makedonios said that, he watched the Emperor very carefully for his reaction.

Aleksios responded, "She has said nothing about him to me, Senator."

Pausing for a moment to wonder if he guessed right, he decided that it did make the most sense since Ioannis did just get promoted to lead Asteri. Makedonios tried to remember the details of the story the Princess told him.

"Are you aware that he threatened the Princess's life and at least indirectly caused one assassination attempt on her person? He bribed the Princess's confidant to spy on her. In Hungary, the Princess caught her spying and the confidant tried to kill her. Oh Ioannis claims it wasn't his fault. Much like when a man gets drunk, beats his wife, and then claims he didn't mean for it to happen. But he has admitted to threatening the Princess's life. You can verify all of this with her."

Aleksios scoffed, "Really? Such a a fantastic story. I wonder why no one bothered to inform me that someone had tried to kill my daughter. I will ask Anna. If what you say is true, it would be most alarming. However, I must also consider the source of such accusations."

The Basileus stood, "You've had your audience and your answer, Senator. I wish you luck in the Levant."

Realizing he had probably pushed his luck far enough, and then some, Makedonios quickly relented. He set the water down, coughed into his napkin a little, and used his cane to stand up from the chair. Standing as straight as he was able, he said his final words.

"I thank you for your time Your Highness. If Her Highness collaborates my story, feel free to contact me, and I can help. We might not agree on much, but we both care about your daughter and do not want to see her hurt."

With that, Makedonios leaves.

Ramses II CP

07-01-2008, 22:46

(OOC: This is a cooperative story between myself and PrivateerKev. Vissa just got back to the HQ after asking for his penance, as the story above suggests, the two being linked by a little bit in the Order's thread here in the LotR forum.)

Once the two men are alone in the Grandmaster's chambers Vissarionas launches into a fevered sort of speech, speaking quickly and without pause, with his eyes darting from place to place in the room.

'My Lord, I must go. I have been granted a chance, perhaps the only one of it's kind I will ever be granted, to take the fate of my soul in my hands and I can't turn away from it. I fear my dismay at the handling of the siege of Antioch makes it appear that I'm running out on the Order, and the arrival of these rebels may even make me look like a coward, but in truth...'

For the first time Vissarionas hesitates, and at last his eyes come up to meet Makedonios' gaze.

'...in truth I do not believe I can continue to serve the Order unless I fulfill this task, this quest, for the Patriarch.'

A moment's pause to swallow, and breathe deeply, and Vissarionas once again spits out words almost as fast as they can come to him.

'I'm haunted by Antioch. Compelled by the memory of my failure there. No matter whom we punish, it is to ourselves we must ultimately look for responsibility. I intend no judgement of any man but myself, but for me, I cannot go on as though there weren't the blood of those hundreds of innocent men on my hands. And so I begged the Patriarch to set me a suitable penance, and he has granted me that boon. I swore to him I would leave in haste, and so I must, absolutely must, go! But, of course, by no means do I intend to forsake my loyalty to the Order, and if I'd known of the rebellion...'

'Ahhhh! It's a puzzle for a better man than I, and so I will follow the will of the best man I know and entrust my fate to his will. Please m'lord, please, grant me a release to remain in the Order on extended foreign service. No mean matter, I know, especially since I cannot swear to what my conduct will be on this mission, nor do I feel at liberty to reveal the specifics, only to ask as one man of God to another, please let me go and still serve.'

At long last Vissarionas has run out of words, and stands there breathing a bit heavily. Knowing the potential import of his last few sentences his eyes have dropped to his feet, and he looks discouraged and uncertain, but also committed to his course, as he waits for the Grandmaster's reply.

Makedonios sits in his bed for a few seconds taking in what his Sergeant has said.

'As I have said before, you need to do that which you believe you need to do. I know much of nightmares. I have my own. Ever since Manzikert. Every night.

So, go and serve His Eminence. Do what you have to do. You can of course remain part of the Order during this trial of yours. Just know, that while you are gone, you will be the last on the list to receive a province and an army command. I need to reward those who stay.

While I have no problem with how your trying to atone for the sacking of Antioch, others are trying to atone in a way that helps the people here. Therefore, they must have precedence.

His Eminence is a good and fair man. I trust that he will not order you to do anything that would conflict with the Charter. And if he does, we will address Charter infractions on a case by case basis and deal with it then.

I ask that you give His Eminence my regards personally and thank him for me. The armor from his vaults is a thing of beauty and I am very humbled by his gift. Unfortunately I've never met the man. We've only exchanged letters.

So, go with God. And with my blessings.'

Vissarionas waits wide eyed while his Grandmaster speaks, and when Makedonios concludes he bows deeply before speaking,

This is more than fair, and I am personally indebted to you for your understanding of this matter. I do hope, once I return, to found some agency to aid the people of Antioch, but for now I fear anything I might do would be tainted by the stain on my honor.

If I am granted an audience with the Patriarch I will be certain to mention your regard for the armor!

Goodbye and good fortune my lord! I will pray for you, and for the Order, and most of all for the preservation of Antioch and the Levant! God grant that my efforts will aid all three in the long run.

So saying Vissarionas once again salutes the Grandmaster in a formal fashion, spins on his heels (once dismissed) and departs.

:egypt:

Ituralde

07-02-2008, 08:27

Sinop, 1095

The sun was just cresting the horizon but the streets of Sinop were already packed with citizens. It seems like everyone had turned out to see the Byzantine Army leave the city. The foul cast to Pavlos mouth was even stronger today as he watches the gathered crowds with disgust. He sat his horse rigidly, his great-nephew Christos sitting right beside him holding the banner of the Komnenodoukai House, which flutters in the wind.

He had a good view of the city and watched with pride as row upon row of Roman soldiers march by him. Their armour gleaming and their various banners streaming behind them, they made a grand display, even if they weren't many, and only foot soldiers for that matter. And the people of Sinop seemed to enjoy the display and cheered the soldiers as heavily as when they had entered the town not too long ago. Bloody Hippocrites! Pavlos knew that at least half of the inhabitants cheering now would cheer the same once Spartacus and his minions would arrive. They would cheer for the Muslims as well! They were just bloody fools!

Turning to his left he waves one of his retainers over.
"Kostakis! Take this letter to Nicaea as fast as you can!"

Without further delay the man spurs on his horse and races West. For the first time a slight smile appears on Pavlos face.
"What's the point of that letter?"

Puzzlement was evident in Christos voice. He had been with his great-uncle has he had written that letter the night before. Just after the reports had confirmed that the fanatics gathered outside of Sinop outnumbered them three to one. Christos had seen the the need to leave Sinop, but why send a letter asking permission for something that you were doing anyway?

"Because, when you're in the field of battle, it is you who makes the decisions. You can't wait until your superiors agree with you. This is the only way we can get there before the Seljuks. By the time an answer arrives we will already be halfway there. If we wait we'll be surrounded by Spartacus and his followers!"

Smiling grimly Pavlos follows his troops as they pass him, marching towards the rising sun, marching East, towards Trebizond!

AussieGiant

07-02-2008, 14:54

Administrative Chambers, Constantinople 1095

The Imperial messenger had nearly collapsed upon delivering the scroll bearing the orders.

Now as Apionnas raised an eyebrow at the Besileus's words held in the letter now in his hands. The Emperor's intentions left little room for error, in fact it seemed serving the Byzantine Emperor was not going to be as dull as he imagined.

Looking up he addressed his regimental captain, a man he had inherited from his uncle and someone who clearly hated serving someone he regarded as a Saracen and an impostor.

"Captain, go and find me the officers in charge of the two militia units.

Bring them here immediately, we have orders and we need to leave now."

As the captain left the room in haste he began formulated a plan for how a tragic accident might occur to his new commander. Now that the unit was finally being ordered into action the possibilities were endless.

Finally, a vicious grin spread across his face as he came to the final option he was about to organise with his fellow officers.

_Tristan_

07-02-2008, 16:39

The Paladin and the Sorcerer
Zagreb, 1093

“Methodios !!” The cry roused Methodios out of the dreamless slumber he had fallen into… The strain of the least few months had finally taken its toll…

“Methodios !!” Standing up from his makeshift bed, in a bale of hay in the shade of some trees, in a field just outside the gates of the city, Methodios recognized Bjarki’s voice.

“Over here…” he answered, his voice slurring a little. Taking a swill of water from his gourd, he stepped out of the shade. “What do you want ?”

“You had better come and see that for yourself,” said Bjarki, the veteran warrior, a sombre look on his face.

“Lead on”, said Methodios, clasping a hand on his comrade’s shoulder, wondering about the secrecy.

Methodios followed Bjarki to the other side of the town square. Few people could be seen in the streets. Though the arrival of the kataphraktoi had freed the town of the tyranny of Gulya and his men, the townsfolk still didn’t know what to make of this new and ominous presence.
Kovacs had proven true to his word and obtained from the city councillors that they proclaim their allegiance to the Empire. Trouble had erupted but was quickly put out once the leaders had been arrested. It was discovered that all the men had taken profit from Gulya’s governance of the city.

Over the last few days, Methodios as sat as judge to many a trial of those men: his sentence was always the same, either they relinquished their hold on the riches acquired during Gulya’ reign and swear their loyalty to the Empire, or they were driven out of town, their holdings seized.

Bjarki was coming back from checking on one such expulsion of a rich merchant and his family.

Led by Bjarki, Methodios made his way through the town, thinking about the improvements that would have to be made in the future. Already he had laid plans to the construction of roads towards the neighbouring Imperial provinces. Soon he would see to the building of barracks for the town militia he wanted to set up.

Finally, they arrived at what was an apparently wealthy townhouse, its two-stories overhanging the cobbled street.

The door was guarded by Adrastos and Antonios, slouching near the door, playing a game of dice. Bjarki entered the House followed by Methodios. Cloths and small personal objects were strewn over the ground, a telltale sign that the eviction had been accomplished, and diligently it seemed.

“Come this way”, Bjarki beckoned, opening a door leading to what seemed to be a basement. Torchlight could be seen flickering at the bottom of the steps.

Half way down the stairs, a strong smell of wine assailed Methodios’ nostrils.

“I’m in no mood for a drink, Bjarki” Methodios said, sullenly.

“That’s not it... Though were it not for the thirst that drove us here...” Bjarki said, a wry grin on his face.

The stairs opened in a large cellar occupied by several large barrels. On one side of the wall, the floor rose up in a slope to double-doors that were used by the former wine-seller to roll his goods in.

Methodios could see that most of the barrels had been tapped, wine spilled upon the floor.

Seeing Methodios’ glare, Bjarki gave him a slight smile, hunching his shoulders “Yes... We have sampled the goods... Fine wine, he was selling that man... But come over here...”

Bjarki led the way to the back of the cellar. Instantly, Methodios noticed that something was out of place. One of the barrels stood open, its facing turned against the wall on hinges. More torchlight came from the once secret room. Crawling through the fake barrel, Methodios emerged in a small room, lit by a single lantern dangling from the ceiling on a short chain, his blood turning cold in his veins. A rack and an unlit brazier were set in a corner of the room, with strange tools displayed on a nearby wall. Dark flaking stains could be seen on the rack and floor.

“A chamber of torture” Methodios said, his voice breaking from the horror of the sight.

Turning away from the horrendous instruments, Methodios noticed that flickering torchlight came thorugh one of the three doors that stood ajar on the other wall. Opening the door, Methodios entered the cell. An odour of decay and filthy straw assailed his nostrils. Hilarion was there,. kneeling on the floor by a lying man, the scowl on his face was even more marked than usual.

The man was lying on the side, his chest seemingly immobile. Dressed in tatters of what seemed to have been quality clothing, his body was covered inn grime and scabs. A metallic glint around one of the man’s finger caught Methodios’ attention. It was a signet ring bearing a single tower and a star. The man had to be of noble birth to carry such a ring, Methodios mused.

“Is he alive ?” Methodios asked, in a croaking whisper.

“Yes,” Hilarion answered “but only slightly. He’s missing two fingers on his left hand and an ear. He has several wounds all over the body. Some of them seem to have gone foul. The fever’s got him. He won’t be long from this world.” Looking intently at Methodios, Hilarion asked “Shall I put him out of his misery ?”

“No, if we found him now, I think Fate has still something in store for him. It means the Norns have not yet decided to cut his thread. Bear him out and find someone to heal him.”

While Hilarion got out of the cell and the adjoining room, Methodios was left to consider the man. Who was he ? Why was he confined thus ?

“Bjarki… Where is the proprietor of this devil-ridden house ?” Methodios asked, with a growl in his voice.

“We drove him out of town two days ago… Seeing how fast he ran, I’m not sure we can catch him…” Bjarki answered, seeing what Methodios wanted.

As Hilarion came back with four men bearing a stretcher, Methodios turned on is heels and headed towards the exit. Finally reaching the street, he relished the feeling of the warm afternoon sun on his face.

“Once they take the man out… Search the place for any clues to his identity, then burn the place… I don’t want a timber of it left standing…”

******

Two weeks later.

The man had remained unconscious over most of the last two weeks. He had awaken a few times from fever-created nightmares crying out in what Methodios had identified as Italian though he had been unable to discern any meaning from the gibberish coming out of the man’s lips. Nothing had been found of his identity, he remained a total stranger.

Two days ago, the fever had finally abated. Hopefully the mystery that had been nagging at the back of Methodios’ mind would soon find an answer. What had brought this men to that cell and to such a treatment ?

As if summoned by Methodios’ thoughts, Nikolas entered Methodios’ study after knocking on the door. He had settled into what had been the former mayor house, nothing out of the ordinary though it was the best Zagreb had to offer in the way of accommodation. It was large enough so that all of his men could have quarters in the same house and it had a stable in the back where the horses could be stalled.

“Our guest has awaken. I thought you would want to talk to him.” Nikolas said.

Pushing away the reports he had been reading, Methodios rose and followed Nikolas to the room that had been put to use as a sickroom for the former prisoner.

The man sat in bed when Methodios entered. Paleness, sunken cheeks and rosy scars were the signs that his full recovery was still some weeks away. Still, Methodios felt relieved to see that the man had survived his ordeal. Had his mind survived also ? he wondered.

“Good morning… Do you understand when I speak to you ?” Methodios asked.

“Yes…Where am I and who are you ? The last thing I remember is pain and darkness…” the man answered in an lilting Italian accent, though in perfect Greek.

“You are in Croatia… In Zagreb, to be precise. I’m Methodios Tagaris, Byzantine Comes, a Count in your lands… I govern the place in the name of the Roman Emperor, Aleksios Komnenos. We found you I the cellar of some house, where, it seems you received some rough treatment.”

“Zagreb… So that is where they have taken me…” A wan smile spread across the man’s face. Looking up at Methodios, he said “I thank you for my rescue my Lord. Were it not for you, I may have died in that cell. I am Giuliano Strozzi, Venetian knight.”

The man took a sip of water from the cup at his bedside. His thirst quenched, he began the telling of how he found himself in these pitiful situation.

He told of how he had been escorting a convoy to Ragusa, funds to the Venetian Councillor holding the castle. The man had argued for peace with the Byzantines when the news of taking of Durazzo had reached Venice. Being a faithful vassal of the Councillor, Giuliano had ridden with his retinue towards Ragusa. He went on to explain that more than a vassal he was also betrothed to the daughter of his liege. En route from Venice, he and his men were ambushed. Before he could do anything, he was taken down from his horse, bound and gagged while his men were slaughtered around him. He was laden in the back of a wagon and led to the cellar where he was found. There, he was questioned about the plans his liege had towards Constantinople. Finally, seeing that Giuliano didn’t have the answers their masters were looking for, they had hoped to ransom him back, cutting two of his fingers and his ears as proof of their hold upon him. But the plan fell short. From what his jailors told him, Giuliano had gathered that the Councillor, seeing the opposition to Byzance rise in Venice, had changed his mind. New political alliances were born and the Councillor’s daughter married to another elderly Councillor, the news of Giuliano’s death used to rescind the betrothal. He was then no more useful to his jailors than a pile of dung and had been left to rot in his cell. Only the arrival of Methodios’ men had saved him from certain death.

Taking another sip of water, Giuliano laid back unto the pillows, seemingly exhausted.

“And here I am, at my enemy’s mercy once again…”

“I am not your enemy… Though I may be the enemy of your country if they should cross our borders… You’re free to remain here and get better… Once your health is back, you are free to leave… You have suffered enough, it seems to me…”

“I thank you for your offer…” Giuliano said, visibly relieved. “I know of only one way I can repay you for saving me : take me in your service. I owe you my life. I will gladly give it for you. From what I have seen of you and your men, we see the world the same way… I can be of use to you… I cannot go back to Venice… I’m dead there… If I ever get back, it will be to take my revenge on those who betrayed me. We could help each other with this task…”

“Giuliano, welcome among the Athanatoi…” Methodios said, clasping the man’s arm.

******

Zagreb, 1095

It was a disgruntled Methodios that dismounted his horse. The whole ride back from Constantinople he had replayed in his mind the heated exchanges in the Magnaura.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth… “What got into me ? I’m a soldier not a politician… those men have tongues that lash more viciously than any sword… There was truly no chance for me to get elected… I’m not even noble… I must truly have been abandoned by God.. Even the Basileos sees nothing in me but a lone wolf….” were the thoughts that ran through his mind.

He had gone alone to the capital, entrusting the keeping of Zagreb to Bjarki and Giuliano. The man proved to be a good man, fair and just, though he took religion a bit too seriously for Methodios… He had sojourned in Rome some years before and had even met the Pope. He cherished the benediction he got that day, often telling of it as the reason behind his rescue by Methodios.

The two men were standing in front of what had become the Governor’s place. Seeing the dark look on Methodios’ face, they greeted him simply.

“Welcome back… How went the Senate talks?” Giuliano asked.

Methodios barged into the House, barely acknowledging his comrades. “Just a bunch of fools, yammering away...”

He went directly to what had become his study in the past months. He stopped dead when he crossed the threshold.

There was a man sitting behind Methodios’ desk. The man wore a dark-cowled robe and several pendants were glittering from tongs tied behind his neck. His hands were invisible, seemingly withdrawn into the ample sleeves of his garment, his arms crossed on top of the desk. His head was bowed forward, as if he was asleep.

Sensing a threat, Methodios’ hand went to his dagger but Bjarki’s own hand came to rest on his arm.

“The man is no threat, but you should speak to him…” Bjarki said, respect for the man in his voice. “He showed up two days ago…He knew your father…” With these words, Bjarki left with Giuliano, leaving Methodios to wonder about the man in the cowl.

As Methodios stepped nearer to the desk, the man lifted his head. The man was old… A fire-red beard with streaks of white covered the lower part of his face but the most striking element were his eyes : deep blue pools of icy water. A large scar contorted his face, going from the corner of his left eye to the corner of his mouth, giving him an almost mocking smile. The man was no Byzantine… He came from much further north…

“Who are you ?”

“Though my name will tell you nothing, I am Snorri the Taleweaver… I am a skald, a sorcerer and for some a fool… To you I can be what you wish…”

“I have no use of you” Methodios answered gruffly.

“That you do not yet know… But I know many things… Your father had use of me… He would consult with me before a battle… I wish he were here to tell you of how many times I saved his life… I can talk to the Gods.. Not the God that has forsaken you… The Old Gods.. The Gods of your Viking ancestors… For you may hide your origins behind that Greek name your parents gave you but I know the truth that lies within your heart… How you prayed before their altars because it was what was expected of you, not because of real faith… I know how in the deep of your soul, you long for the tales of battle of your father… The glory of dying on a battlefield with mounds of enemy’s corpse at your feet… The need for recognition from your peers even if they are not of your blood and never will be… The feeling of loss from seeing the men you craved to serve turn their back on you… All this I know and much more…”

Shaken by the man’s words, Methodios was taken aback. The man had never met him and yet his words mirrored almost exactly his own thoughts.

“How can you claim to know me so ?” Methodios asked, a tremor in his voice.

“Like I said, believe me or not, I can talk to the Old Gods… They have taken interest in you… you are destined for great things…” Taking out a leather pouch from his belt, the man emptied it on the desk. Small ivory pieces with dark engravings that Methodios recognized as Nordic runes spilled out of the pouch. “See, these runes are the messengers of the Gods… From them I can learn many things that would remain hidden for any other… With these, I can foretell your future though I must admit that at this point it is somewhat foggy… The Gods are arguing among themselves about you…”

“Did my father believe in this sorcery ?”

“Believe… Yes, he did… Though he would never have admitted it…And this is no sorcery…”
“Here… Let me show you…”

Gathering the ivory fragments into his hands and lifting them above his head, Snorri began making incantations in what Methodios recognized as Norse language. The few words he learnt from his father were no help in understanding the strange guttural sounds emitted by the sorcerer. Here and there names stood out “Thor… Odin… Loki…”

Then he dropped the stones on the desk. They clicked and finally settled. Looking at them intently, Snorri intoned in a cavernous voice, seemingly in a trance “Storm clouds are gathering over the Eagle’s nest… The Eagle has flown too high in the sky and know forks of lightning seek to strike him down… The Tiger has gone too far from his lair and he is now cut off from it… The lightning will seek to destroy the Tiger too… Will you fight Tiger or will you run ?”

Silence reigned after these last word. Snorri’s voice still rang in Methodios’ ears… Snorri had abruptly come out of his trance, his eyes focusing on Methodios.

“It seems the Gods still believe in you to have granted me the vision…”

“What can I do of all this gibberish ? I can see who the Eagle and the Tiger stand for but what of the storm and the lightning ?”

“This is for you to interpret… I am only the messenger… The meaning of the words is yours to discover… Trust in the Old Gods to show you the way…”

As if summoned by Snorri’s words, rumblings could be heard in the heavens. Soon after, flashes of lightning could be seen through the latticed window at the back of the room. Darkness had fallen outside though it was only the middle of the afternoon.

“See…The Gods will show you…”

Bjarki ran into the room, a harried look upon his face.

“Methodios, we have a problem… Our scouts have located an impressive force of men. They are headed this way… They’ll be here in only a few days if they keep up their pace…”

“How many of them ? Who are they ? Venetians ? Hungarians ?”

“No, they seem to be only rabble with a few professional soldiers thrown in but they number more than 1500… We can’t defend the city against so many…”

“You’re right… I don’t think we can… I’ll write to the Megas and the Emperor… I’ll try to get funds to hire some mercenaries… It is our only hope to stand against them…”

Turning to Snorri, who bore a smug smile (who was it his scar ?) and mouthed “the Gods”, Methodios remembered the words of the sorcerer.

“Will you fight Tiger or will you run ?”

******

TheFlax

07-02-2008, 22:41

((Written in collaboration with YourLordAndConqueror and PrivateerKev))

Antioch 1095

Only a few months had passed since she last came to Antioch, but for most nothing was amiss as they had no knowledge of her previous visit. This time she would not have to hide herself and thus, she entered the city in a carriage escorted by mounted men bearing the imperial colors. Slowly, they made there way through the widing streets of the city, until they reached the center square.

Iakovos watched as the carriage made it's way into the center square and stopped. Iakovos stood to one side with a few of his own guard.

The men escorting the carriage dismounted and one of them opened the vehicle's door. Anna emerged, wearing fine, but simple, silk clothing colored in a mix of white and light pastels. As usual, her head was adorned with a matching veil. Not even bothering with her escorts, she headed straight for Iakovos.

Iakovos bowed deeply. "It is good to see you here Princess Anna, and I thank you for your support in my project." Iakovos returned to his normal posture and smiled. "If you would but follow me, I can show you where we plan to erect the University."

Anna smiled. "I see you waste no time. Very well, lead me there."

Iakovos nodded in agreement as he began a brisk pace down the street. "I find it's better to be open and direct about my statements and intentions, don't you agree?"

Anna followed, a step behind him. "As in all things, circumstance dictates behavior. One who is not careful will soon find himself at a disadvantage, or worse..."

"Indeed, but I can speak freely for I have no enemies, something I am very thankful for." Iakovos halted suddenly and turned to look at Anna."What do you think? A rough start yes, but what it could become!" Anna's gaze fell upon a burned out shell of Imperial Roman design. Part of the roof had caved in from what seemed like an attack, the white marbeling had long been defaced in arabic and greek script, and it was covered in moss, lichen, and vine. What had once been a fountain now was a cracked bowl were plant life sprouted as in a chaotic frenzy to reclaim the once grand building for nature.

She moved from Iakovos' side in order to apparaise the building from a closer perspective. "A good choice, but there is much work to be done. I gather that this is where my solidus come in?"

Iakovos seemed embarassed. "Yes, indeed. Of course, any other help would also be appreciated. I can say at least the building does have a working well, but it requires the plants to be removed. Otherwise, what are your thoughts M'lady?"

Anna turned to face him. "You need reading material, writing equipment and other required implements essential in teaching. I shall make sure everything you need is gathered in Konstantinopolis upon my return and then sent to you by ship. I trust you will find suitable teachers and scholars?"

Iakovos smiled. "I have found a few willing to teach, yes. I am delighted that you're willing to help and came all the way from Constantinople to do so; I know few who would go to such lengths."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I do what I think best for the Empire. Although, you do realise my assistance comes at a price?"

Iakovos' smile failed to fade, it only shrunk. "I understand. And what would you need from me?"

Anna turned her gaze to the entrance of the building. "It is important for the regions far away from the capital to gain a sense of belonging to Empire. That is why you will add a statue of my person on top of a renovated fountain, naming me as chief patron of this university."

Now the smile left Iakovos face, to be replaced by a more thoughtful countenance. "I see no problem with such an arrangement, it is only the truth." Iakovos chukled to himself, returning his gaze back to Anna. "But it troubles me that you ask for a statue of yourself. I mean no disrespect, indeed I respect you more then you may know, but why not the Emperor himself?"

She returned her gaze on him. "My father will get more than one statue in this city and they will most certainly be in more eminent locations. Furthermore, he is not the patron of the project and I would not dare support it in his name without his consent."

Iakovos smiled. "I am sorry, forgive my rudeness, my inquisitive nature ran ahead of me."

Anna returned a polite smile. "Think nothing of it. You are not the first to question my motives. You can think me vain if you wish it so but I do this because I think it best."

Iakovos shook his head earnestly. "Vanity is not the first thing to come to mind M'lady, rather...I am sorry, it is something I prefer not to discuss in the open." Iakovos's demeanor changed to something a little more light hearted. "Now that we have reached an agreement, do you wish to visit the Order's Headquarters?"

She gestured for him to lead on. "It would be my pleasure."

Iakovos nodded and motioned to his guards to follow, who have been politely out of earshot while Iakovos and Anna spoke to one another. Iakovos led the party down the streets until they came across a small gathering of children. It took the children only a few seconds to realize who Iakovos was. Fear seemed to permeate the air. With a hard stare Iakovos looked at each one.

"And what are you children doing away from school? Did Levon let you out early?"

The children looked up at Iakovos. "Levon did, honest! We all got done early and so he just let us go!" Iakovos raised an eyebrow. "So if I go to the school, I won't find levon asleep again? And when I ask if he let you out early, he'll say he did?" The children nodded in agreement.

Iakovos smiled warmly and laughed. "Good, then go ahead and go. But I want you to be in early tomorrow, we have some new things to go over." Iakovos waved off the children before turning back to Anna. "Some of the less fortunate children of Antioch. Me and Levon take turns schooling them, and they've taken to it well. I hope to see them all at the University one day. Let's continue."

Anna nodded in comprehension and followed his lead.

After a few minutes, Iakovos and Anna made their way to the Order's Headquarter.

Anna recognized the building as soon as they neared it but strived to keep it from reflecting on her expression. Silently she anticipated another reunion with Makedonios. This visit had been the perfect excuse to be in his company once more and were he not in Antioch, she might not have made the trip in person.

Reining in her thoughts, she turned her attention to Iakovos once more. "Is your Grandmaster well enough to see me?"

Iakovos nodded. "I believe so, of course, I am sure you knew that." Before Anna could reply, Iakovos headed down the main hall, motioning for Anna to follow.

Makedonios was sitting up on his bed reading logistics reports. He looked up from a letter he was writing to request more supplies for the army when he heard footsteps. He saw Iakovos walk in first, and when he was about to greet him, he saw her. As always, he was stunned by her beauty. But he was even more surprised to see her appear in Antioch again. He just sat there for a moment and waited for someone to explain what was going on. There was plenty he would wish to say to the Princess right now but he was well aware of Iakovos' presence in the room.

Anna, upon witnessing Makedonios' surprise, spoke up before Iakovos had a chance to do so himself. She addressed Makedonios formally.

"Grandmaster, it is good to meet you once more. I trust I am not interrupting anything?"

Picking up her cue of formality, Makedonios straightened up and played along.

"Your Highness, it is good to see you. Please, both of you, come and have a seat."

Seeing both Iakovos and the Princess in the room together, Makedonios realized he had to get something out of the way.

"Before you tell me what this is about, I need to fill you in on something. Iakovos here knows you visited me here before the Magnaura session. He saw a servant girl he recognized and asked me about it. I told him that you were visiting on business. I'm sorry I never told you but so much was going on before the Magnaura session, that it slipped my mind. Now that is out of the way, what do we owe the pleasure?"

Iakovos chimed in before Anna. "Anna has come from Antioch to approve of the foundation of an Imperial University here. We have agreed to each others terms, and after surveying the site, I invited her her to the Headquarters. I have not erred in my judgment bringing her here, have I Grandmaster?"

Makedonios was amused at the idea that bringing Anna to his presence would ever be an 'error', but he didn't say it.

"Of course not. We always welcome Her Highness's visits to our humble corner of the Empire. I remember something about a school being mentioned in letters. But I didn't know that meant her coming here. I would have appreciated knowing beforehand but it seems Her Highness likes surprising me."

With that, Makedonios gave a smile to make clear he was in good spirits.

Anna returned a warm smile. "How else am I to keep the stoic grandmaster off-balance?"

Iakovos coffed into his hand to gain attention. "I am sorry for not notifying you myself Grandmaster, but Anna's letter did not arrive until she herself was already here. Nonetheless, I would ask for your approval for the material Anna has proposed. Anna, if you would elaborate please?"

Makedonios hoped his pale sickly skin would hide the slight blush from Anna's comment and he was saved when his Sergeant spoke up. He raised his eyebrow at the informality and simply said, "Of course, I would love to hear Her Highness's proposal" with a slight emphasis on her title to get the point across.

Anna slightly raised an eyebrow at Iakovos. "I am no teacher and as such I cannot elaborate on what I will be sending you. Surely you will trust in the judgement of the most brilliant minds in Konstantinopolis as to what is appropriate for your university?"

Iakovos shrugged his shoulders. "I do not doubt the ability of those who will be sending the materials from Konstantinopolis, but we here must also judge what will be suitable for the University your Highness."

Anna seemed unaffected by his words. "Then you expect me to know all of your needs, having them commited to memory before even coming here and then see if what I give you meets your approval?"

Iakovos was taken aback. "I am deeply sorry M'lady, I meant not to offend, but only to allow the Grandmaster to hear what might be sent so that we may judge it now, so the Empire does not waste money it does not need to."

Makedonios watched the bickering go back and forth between the two people. He finally had enough.

"Alright, both of you. Now can someone please tell me what this is about and what you need from me."

Even through her veil, it was possible to notice the sting caused by Makedonios' last reply.

"I simply wished to see you before I left again for the capital, I did not know I needed a reason to do so."

With those words, she turned slightly, as if leaving.

Makedonios was taken aback.

"Your Highness, I did not mean for that to come across that way. But you have to understand that the matter you two speak of is a touchy subject. From what Iakovos has told me, he wishes to do something for the orphans that lost their fathers when we took the city. It is an.. emotional subject to bring up with me so I admit I am prone to lose my temper if people do not get to the point with regards to helping the children. As for needing a reason to see me, of course you don't. But I know you're very busy. And for you to have come all this way to help Iakovos here is very noble and I appreciate it. Now that we're all here, would one of you please let me know what it is you need from me and we can get this project underway so the kids can get help as soon as possible."

To attempt to set the room at ease, Makedonios gives both of them a warm smile

Anna turned back, confused. "I need nothing from you concerning this, Makedonios. Verily, I cannot do much more for now save handing over the substantial funds I have brough with me."
He nodded to the Princess.

"I see, thank you for bringing that. It should help do a lot of good. If you would be so kind as to wait for a moment, I'll get to the bottom of this with Iakovos.

Makedonios raises an eyebrow at Iakovos.

"Then Sergeant, if Her Highness has brought the money, what is it that you need to see me about regarding the school?"

Iakovos snapped back and looked at Makedonios. "Indeed Grandmaster, we need labor and someone to head the project of the buildings restoration. I would volunteer myself, but I am teaching many of the Orphans as we speak. We could also discuss what should be taught in the school, and I would be happy for the Princess's input into this, as well as you Grandmaster. We are also in need of a sculptor for Anna. Since the money is here, all we need is the man power."

Anna shook her head lightly. "A sculptor won't be needed, I'll take care of that part. You have enough on your hands already, no need to tie up even more of your time and ressources with my whims." As she finished, she motioned for Makedonios to continue.

Makedonios watched the 'back and forth' before chiming in.

"A sculptor? Alright, but if you're wanting labor to build the school, you really should be talking to Brother Armatos. As Prince of Antioch, this really falls under his purview. You have my full support of course. As for needing someone to watch over the project, I suppose I can do that. I need to stay here and rest anyways. You Sergeant, are going campaigning soon. We're short-handed since Koulianos decided to retire from politics. As soon as the supplies sail into port, I'll need you to leave. So, you can get the project started and then I'll monitor it and make sure it proceeds. As for coursework, I'm afraid I can't help with that. My education was not formal."

Fixing the Sergeant with a look that made it clear that he would not accept an argument, Makedonios added, "Now, if there is nothing else, I need to ask Her Highness about something. I was planning on writing a letter, but since she is here, I can just skip that part. If you don't have any questions or comments, you may be dismissed. Good luck with the project and let me know if you need anything."
Iakovos was overjoyed at the news his Grandmaster had told him. He stood and saluted. "Thank you Grandmaster for your generosity and goodwill yet again!" With a bow to Anna, Iakovos quickly departed from the room.

Waiting for Iakovos to depart, Anna shot Makedonios an inquisitive look.

"What is it you wish to discuss?"

Makedonios shrugged. "You're the one that came to see me remember? And since when do I need a reason to want to talk to you?"

With that he flashed a warm smile.

She moved closer to him as she undid her veil. "You are right." Eying him with a concerned look, she added in a more serious tone. "How are you holding up?"

A shrug was his first reply. "My candidate lost for Megas. The Order is still trying to figure out how to deal with all of the orphans we created. The army is almost out of supplies. There are reports of rebellion all over the Empire. And I'm still stuck in bed sick."

He punctuated it by giving a big sigh.

"Running a Knightly Order or a House is harder than people think. I think I see why Kosmas is stepping down. Everyone wants something from you. No one is ever happy. I think you're the only one who doesn't ask me for anything. Not that I'd mind if it came from you though."

He smiled tiredly.

Before sitting beside him, Anna removed her hairpin and shook her head to loosen the now free hair. Age had given her sweet face a harder edge, as if she had weathered more than a few storms in the last years.

"You are weary enough, I need not add to your troubles. Is there any way in which I can grant you succor?"

While quite a few thoughts went through his mind, he simply smiled. And he was reminded that he really liked seeing her hair down.

"Listening to me rant is help enough. I just realized I don't have anyone to rant to. For morale and military discipline reasons, I can't rant to my men. I don't have any family. Any political allies I have stop short of being someone I can confide in. I appreciate very much you giving me a friendly ear."

Makedonios breathed deep.

"Alright, I think I got all of that out for now. Now, Your Highness, how are you doing? You've never added to my troubles. I've always been happy to help."

She looked at him earnestly. "Getting through these past few years alone have been trying. God's plan for me seemed so clear when this all started, and now I find my self unable to see a guiding light through the perpetual fog of doubt which surrounds me."

He nodded. "He does have a strange way of laying out his Plan. I feel the same way. It used to be simple. Now it isn't so simple. All you can do is have Faith. Faith in Him and faith in yourself. I'm curious, what did you expect that first Magnuara session? In some ways, you trained your whole life for that moment."

Anna answered without missing a beat. "I expected to be married."

Makedonios grunted. "I know I've been trying to help with that. At first, I thought I'd be patient after I asked your father for your hand. But I ended up waiting years. He never sent me a reply."

She sighed in frustration. "I know not what my father plans for me, but I am fast passing the proper age of marriage. Yet, there is little any of us can do about that. He will make his choice in due time."

He thought for a moment before speaking.

"I actually saw your father before I left to return here. It was... interesting. Believe me when I say, I tried everything I could think of to get him to choose me as your suitor. I don't think I convinced him. But, I do think I know who he intends for you to marry."

Surprise registered on her face for an instant. "So, my father has finally decided. Who shall it be?"

A concerned look marred his features. "He did tell me he decided on someone for you. I guessed as to who it would be but he didn't confirm it. But I think it is Ioannis Kalameteros. It is the only thing that makes sense. Your father made very clear that he wants you to marry a House leader. Tagamata and Komnenodoukai are already quite loyal to your family. Tepaki is too small. It wouldn't be any of the independent Senators. And it isn't anyone from the Order. It has to be someone from Asteri. And Kosmas stepped down and Ioannis just replaced him. I believe your father wants you to marry Ioannis to bind House Asteri to your family."

Anna maintained her composure, her expression nearly unreadable. "That would be the most obvious choice." Resignation tainted her voice. "I am sorry it has come to this, but I will do my duty. There is no point fighting my destiny."

Makedonios nodded and sighed. "I know you will. And I am sorry too. I wonder if there was something I could do to make myself a more palatable suitor. But what your father wanted, I could not do. I refuse to stay on as Grandmaster while married. It would have violated the trust those men have in me. But..."

He allowed himself a slight smile. "I might have thrown a snag in Ioannis' plans. I told your father the story you told me. I let him know that Ioannis threatened your life and that he played a part in your confidant's attempt to kill you, if only indirectly. He doesn't believe me of course but he can't just ignore it. And he will ask you about it. I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to know. And I am sorry if this gets you in trouble. But I couldn't just stand there and do nothing as he married you off to that monster."

She shrugged. "I doubt my father will be swayed by a few threats on my person, we both know Ioannis would never follow through on them."

Makedonios raised an eyebrow. "I'm not so confident. He has shown a complete lack of regard for your safety and well being. He treats you like a thing. Do you really think that would change if you married him?"

Anna dismissed the question with a flick of her wrist. "What does it matter how he treat me? As long as he does not harm me, my father will not back out of this union. No, you may think whatever you want of Ioannis Kalameteros, but he is no fool. He will not love me, but it is in his best interest to see me well once we are joined as one in holy matrimony."

He quickly replied when she was finished. "Well, it matters to me how your treated."

His words made her smile. "Makedonios, we cannot always have what we want. Nevertheless, do not worry for my sake for I am more than able to look after myself."

With that it was his turn to shrug but she could notice emotion in his eyes. "Of that I have no doubt. But I wanted you to be happy. If I knew you would be truly happy with another, I believe I could go on through life relatively ok. Sad of course, but ok. But if you aren't happy, then it eats away at me like the sickness that has wracked my body for years."

Anna's smile faded, replaced by a strange intensity in her eyes. "We each have our own path, strewn with challenges. This is what I was born to do, this is my purpose. In a way, I am happy I can finally accomplish what I was meant for. If you wish to help me, than do not destroy yourself over this and instead gather your strength so that I may lean on you when my own wanes."

His shoulders slumped. "You ask an awful lot of me. But you've given a lot. I won't promise anything but I will... try..." The word 'try' felt like a lump in his throat and he could barely get it out.

She placed her hand on his. "I can ask no more of you, but know that I have faith in you Makedonios." Pulling back her hand, she rose. "I should take my leave now, for too long have I interrupted your rest."

Her hand felt hot on his. He didn't want the feeling to leave. But, as usual, she was right. So he nodded. "Interruptions from you I always look forward to. But it is probably time you should go. Scouts have reported an army coming this way. I need to get the city ready to repel an assault. Have a safe journey Your Highness and we will talk again. Just one thing. If... you become married to another, it may no longer be seen as proper for you to be traveling. Therefore, I do hope you'll write more." With that last, he smiled.

As she moved to leave, she turned slightly and gave him a half smile. "Worry not, I will make it proper." A moment later, she was gone, leaving Makedonios to his thoughts.

OverKnight

07-03-2008, 06:05

Coop with TheFlax

Constantinople, 1095

The Basileus remained at his desk after Makedonios had left. The man's accusations and guesses at who would be Anna's husband convinced Aleksios that the matter needed to be dealt with as soon as possible, before rumors leaked out. Summoning a messenger, he sent for his daughter.

A short while later, Anna entered the room and performed a polite bow. She was dressed informally, in a light pink short sleeved tunica, complemented by a blue woolen stole and her hair were draped loosely on her shoulders. She addressed her father with proper respect.

"You wished my presence?"

Aleksios rose and embraced his daughter.

"Yes I did, I'm sorry for the perfunctory summons, but some information has come to light which I must deal with before tongues begin to wag."

Motioning to Anna to sit he spoke again, "I have just spoken with Grandmaster Makedonios. He pressed his claim to your hand. In doing so he made some rather startling accusations about Ioannis Kalameteros. The worst of which is that he is trying to have you killed."

Taking a seat himself, the Basileus continued, "Now, I think the man would say anything to marry you, but such rumors usually have a kernel of truth. Do you and Ioannis have some sort of conflict?"

A short time passed before Anna had fully taken in all of her father's words.

"Ioannis Kalameteros you say? Conflict would hardly begin to describe it. He has little respect for our family and more precisely, me. Makedonios fears he will harm me, but I do not think he would go so far."

Aleksios smiled ruefully, "Ah, to hear Ioannis tell it, you two were pooling information on various Senators and despite some conflict had a 'good relationship, based on trust and respect'. He also seems some how involved with the serving women who tried to kill you. Which perhaps is what Makedonios was ranting about. Would you like to elaborate on this Anna?"

Anna shrugged. "Was is there to say? Save that I discovered my most trusted servant was spying on me and then tried to kill me. It is a topic I would rather avoid. Suffice to say, Kalameteros did not ask her to take my life."

The Basileus sighed, "Very well, the reason I asked is that Senator Kalameteros has asked for your hand in marriage as well. I wanted your opinion on him as he is now an Antypatos and head of the Asteri. The Asteri have more land in the Empire than any other House. With the fall of Kosmas, your Brother's protege, we need to bind them to us once again. A marriage would accomplish this."

Aleksios leaned back in his chair, doubt crept into his voice.

"However, the more I learn, the less ideal such an arrangement sounds. After Makedonios's accusations, I needed to speak with you about Kalameteros, and your response has not added to my confidence. What are your thoughts about this Anna?"

She was tempted to lie in order to make the wedding less likely. Yet, that would be going against her duty to her family and the Empire, it would be going against her destiny. She steeled herself to maintain a cool and detached facade.

"It is as you said father, the Asteri must be once more bound to our family. In the long run, it does not matter what I feel about Kalameteros, we need him as an ally and above all we need to watch him closely. This, I can do for you father. For your sake and for our family's sake, I will endure Kalameteros and play the role of the loving wife and I will make sure they never betray us."

The Basileus looked relieved and saddened at the same time. He stood and crossed to his daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Anna, you are perceptive as always. I am sorry that duty and happiness could not be intertwined in this. I hope Ioannis will be a better husband than you give him credit for and that the match will eventually bring you a measure of happiness."

Aleksios gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"It gives me little joy to marry my children to barbarians, the Rus Eupraxia your Brother never mentions, or political allies, but it must be done. The Empire must be secured, our family must be secured."

He spoke again, more quietly, "So watch Kalameteros, Anna. I hope for the best, but if he betrays our trust, if he hurts you in any way. . .I'll bring the Empire down on his head."

Anna's voice echoed his. "I know you will." She seemed on the verge of shedding a tear but quickly returned to an impassive state. "How soon?"

Aleksios rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I'll let Kalameteros know and then announce the engagement publicly. The timing of the wedding is up to you."

She gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. "I shall make the arrangement with him, I am sure he will be pleased with me if I show myself to be considerate."

Aleksios grunted and knelt to be face to face with her, "Don't be too considerate Anna. You are my daughter, a Princess of the Roman Empire and born into the Purple, he's marrying up. He would do well to remember that, to be reminded of that, lest he grow complacent."

He kissed her forehead.

"I am proud of you."

Those words illuminated Anna's features with a bright smile. "Is there anything else?"

The Basileus shook his head, "Nothing at the moment. I have some rebels to put down and I'm sure you have some battles of your own to attend you. Let me know if you need anything."

With a few steps backward, she bowed curtly, before finally exiting the room.

After his daughter left, Aleksios sat down heavily in his chair. He bowed his head and sighed. Looking up across his desk, he noticed the silver cup Makedonios had drunk from still there. With a growl, he lashed out, sending it flying across the room. Crashing against the wall, the cup fell to the floor and began to roll, spilling water as the Basileus started another letter.

_Tristan_

07-03-2008, 14:06

Storm clouds gather
Zagreb, 1095

Milos Kovacs had been summoned to the house occupied by the Byzantine governor and his men. The face of the once jovial engineer and trader bore the signs of anxiety and perplexity.

A large force of rebellious rabble had been spotted a few days march from Zagreb and it did not bode well for the city. From the contacts that Kovacs had had by way of some of his men, they claimed to come and liberate the Catholics of Zagreb from the Byzantine occupation…

“Pfah… What nonsense…” Kovacs thought

Tagaris, the self-appointed governor of the city, had been most fair in his dealing with the inhabitants. Religion seemed to be of no matter to him, as long as the men worked for the improvement of the city.

Since his arrival, the roads had been improved and plans had been drafted for the building of barracks for a town militia. People from the country had begun to flock to the city to sell their wares, some even settling, increasing the number of people living inside the walls.

All had been to the good since Kovacs had convinced the Town Council to accept Byzantine rule. Even his own position had improved : he was now First Councillor, head of the Council.

And now, this whole lot of rabble sought to take that from him… For Kovacs was sure of one thing, once they “freed” the town of Byzantine presence, Hell would break loose. You simply could not trust such miserable rabble to act honourably.

Still wondering why he had been summoned, Kovacs finally reached the headquarters of Tagaris. He was greeted by the Venetian knight Giuliano who led him inside to Methodios’ study.

Knocking on the door and going in without waiting for an answer, Giuliano announced him.

“Methodios, Master Kovacs is here to see you, as you wished.”

Putting back a letter on his desk, Methodios bore a dejected look on his face. Rising from his seat and shaking Kovacs’ hand, Methodios asked him to sit down.

Going back to his desk, Methodios snatched the letter he had been reading and began pacing in front of Kovacs. Finally turning to him, the Governor imparted the dire news.

“What I have here is a letter from our Megas Logothetes telling me that he won’t lift a finger to save Zagreb from the rabble threatening it… What’s worse is that even the Basileos endorses his decision…He won’t even send me funds to hire some mercenaries and have them help keep control of the city… Damn politicians…”
Kovacs felt a lump of lead in the pit of his stomach.

“So were doomed…”

“Not yet…The rabble threatening us only has a score to settle with the Empire, it seems. Their only interest in Zagreb lies in depriving the Empire from one its provinces.” Methodios explained, trying to reassure Kovacs “So I want to deprive them of their objective : I will relinquish my claim on Zagreb and try to obtain compensation from the Hungarians for my release of our hold in their favour. Captain Compold has been most amenable to my inquiries and should soon receive word from Budapest… I don’t think they will refuse… They had their eyes set on Zagreb before we snatched it from under their nose…They will think it only a just return of things… I have already requested that a clerk from the Imperial Diplomatic Corps be sent our way to draft the treaty…”

“So you seek to abandon us ?” Kovacs said, unable to believe what he just heard.

“You can’t expect me to contain 1500 with only the 25 of us… None of the city’s men are fit to fight… I would not send them to certain death… I had received enough funds to recruit some mercenaries, I would have tried to keep the wolves at bay but as things stand…” Methodios put a wavering smile on his face “Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands… The Hungarians treat their people fairly and I hope that once the rebellions are in check, I will be able to convince the Magnaura to buy Zagreb back from them…”

“I see your point… Let us just hope that Lydham and his men are not after Zagreb, whatever the cost… I have much more confidence in your abilities to stand up to them than those of this Hungarian captain…”

“Lydham is a religious zealot but a good general… Hungarians are good Catholics… He won’t risk excommunication simply to take Zagreb when what he hopes to accomplish is driving the Empire out of our northernmost provinces… To achieve that he needs as many men as possible and fighting the Hungarians will not only cost him men but could have them swoop down on him.. Plus he needs to drive to the core of our provinces the faster he can before we can muster reinforcements… So I think you’ll be safe… If ever he makes the mistake of laying siege to your city, I will ride back and do my utmost to free you and your fellow town-folk, even if I have to do it with only my followers…”

“I know I can trust you to do your utmost for us… I’m just sad to see you go, I guess…” Kovacs said, sadness in his voice “I had great plans for us in this town.”

“Keep on planning… I will be back one day… I promise you, Milos… If I survive the ordeal that the Empire is facing, I will be back…”

Several days later, Kovacs stood upon the battlements of the city, watching the receding cloud of dust that the hooves of the kataphraktoi’ horses lifted as they rode east towards Belgrade.

“Godspeed, my friend… Come back to us…”

Once the dust cloud was no longer visible, Kovacs slowly got down from the battlement. He was joined by Goran, the captain of his guard.

“Captain Compold wishes to see you, Master…”

******

_Tristan_

07-03-2008, 16:33

A toast to fools
At an inn on the Zagreb-Belgrade road, 1095

The inn stood by the side of the road, halfway from Zagreb to Belgrade. A large patio opened to one side, the view opening on the slow waters of the mighty Danube.

In the patio, Methodios sat at a table with Giuliano. They had arrived at the inn, two days before and Methodios had chosen this place to call a halt to rest their horses. Not far from where the inn stood was a bridge that jumped across the waters. Small fishing boats plied the waters while bigger merchant barges laden with goods were pulled along the banks by teams of powerful horses.

Methodios contemplated the scenery, a sombre look on his face, a look that had not left him since they had left Zagreb. A flagon of wine stood on the table, and though Giuliano seemed to relish the taste of it, Methodios’ cup was still untouched.

Intent on bringing his friend out of his dark thoughts, Giuliano lifted his glass for a toast..

“Here’s to our Hungarian allies !!! What fools they are !!!”

“There is nothing to rejoice about, Giuliano” Methodios answered, chidingly.

“Surely, there is… The deal you brokered with the Magyars will both insure that Zagreb population gains Hungarian protection and that your country’s treasury is full to the brim, money that could be spent to deal with the uprisings we have heard about… Surely this is cause to rejoice…” Giuliano argued.

“Zagreb is not out of danger… Lydham is a good general but I don’t know how much control he has over the rabble serving under him… Their greed may well overcome their religious zeal and have them prey on Zagreb… And I still remain an outcast… I can already hear how some of those Magnaura word-twisters will make the deal seem like another way for self-advancement on my part… It seems like there is never enough I can sacrifice for the Empire… How can I prove that I seek nothing but to serve in the best interests of the Empire ?”

“What do you mean ?” inquired Giuliano.

“See… I took Dyrrakhion from some Italian-paid rebels. I had pledged I would not claim it for myself and I acted on my promise, giving it back to the Basileos. Now, I have sacrificed my lands, for I see them as such, to save the people of Zagreb and obtain a king’s ransom out of it and still I feel like it is not enough… Whatever I’ll do, it will never be enough for these men… Is it because I am not of the nobility or because I have Norse blood running through my veins ?” I don’t know…”

“Surely you do not believe that… I am sure that some will be grateful of the bounty you offered to the Empire… And remember : there was no other course of action… We couldn’t stand up to that many men… It would have meant certain death, or worse, capture and ransom… You did the right thing…”

“Still, it rankles… I cannot even be sure that any of those funds will be used to give me some men to take on this rebellious rabble…”

“What will you do now ?” Giuliano asked.

“Ride to Belgrade and follow the Megas’ orders… There is nothing else I can do now…”

Silence then hung heavily over the two men, leaving each to their own thoughts.

The words of Snorri still rang into Methodios’ mind : “Will you fight Tiger or will you run ?”

******

pevergreen

07-04-2008, 06:12

Constantinople, 1096

Michail sits down at the counter of his favourite tavern and orders an ale. Sitting next to him is his right hand man, Efstratios.

“How slow the Magnaura has become of late Efstratios” Michail remarks.

"I agree. And I find the Senate to be nothing more than a group of squabbling delegates, unprepared for the awesome responsibilities of running an empire. I don't think they realize I am among the most experienced and hardened among them.

I am ready for these outlaws which have sprung up along the countryside since the good Methodios Tagaris took Zagreb. My sword has not been swung in some time, and I am anxious to cut down some fools who dare oppose the emperor."

“True, Efstratios, true. However, I am not too eager to find a fight, but I can handle myself well enough if one comes to me. But you are right. We have no future here in the west. I have been thinking. It may be time for some changes, I was thinking towards rescinding control of House Tepaki to you, as you have more experience in that area than me. It also seems that a re-organisation is needed. I propose that we form into more of a mercenary company orientated house. We can hold certain settlements, providing a steady income, but let us sell our services out! In exchange for whatever we please. I will move back towards the second-in-command as a treasurer and after we have made some advancement, we may reform again. What say you Efstratios?”

"I think it's a splendid idea. I admit I have often wished I were the ruler of one of the houses of the realm... I am honoured by your plan and think it's a good idea. Your father would have been very proud of your wisdom."

“My father…” Michail trails off, lost in thought.

1075: The Shanty Seaman:

A small boy gathers his cloak up around him, backing into the corner, hoping to hide himself amongst the shadows, afraid of the men that are trailing him. His loot hidden in the cloak’s inside pocket, this young Michail holds his breath, knowing that the officers after him will enter his father’s shop. As the men fan out, a lantern is lit and Michail hears his fathers voice “What are you grunts doing? Get out of my house!”

“Sir,” the officer spits out “Your son has been stealing again. This time we are going to get him.”

Michail’s father sighs, and reaches into his pocket, digging out 5 golden coins.

“Will this get him out of it?”

The officer steps forward and examines the coins.

“Good enough. Just don’t let him do it again.”

As the officers leave, Michail comes out of the shadows.

“Michail, you have to stop stealing. Remember what our plan is. The only future for you is the Magnaura. Us Romans will thrive again, just make sure we go to the west. The west has more sea, and more profit for us Michail. We need you to do this, for our family”

Michail remembered his father’s speeches about the west, and knew for the survival of his family that expansion that way was needed. The more boats needed building, the more the Shanty Seaman would be hired.

“Michail, just 6 more years and you will reach your majority and be introduced to the world of politics. That position awaiting you cost a lot, but not more than we stand to lose. This is for your family son. The Arianitis name must live on.”

Efstratios shook Michail to snap him out of it.

“Your mind seemed to be wandering. Now about that reform…”

“Yes, yes Efstratios. It will happen. I’m not sure I want to give up the vow or my title as Despot of Epirus. My head aches, and I’m covered in ale. We shall meet tomorrow and discuss this more Lord Efstratios.”

“Lord Efstratios….I like the sound of that.”

ATPG lines done by him

TheFlax

07-05-2008, 06:19

((Written in collaboration with PrivateerKev))

Antioch 1096 (A few hours before the Battle of Antioch)

A cloud of dust rushed toward Antioch as three armed riders rushed to the city and only slowed when they neared the guards manning the northernmost gate. All three looked ragged and haggard, but none so more than the man at the lead. His light brown hair was matted with sweat and grime, his goatee crusted with blood, his hard face bore the sign of a recent struggle with a cut still fresh on his thin lips; but above all, his eerily wild eyes transfixed, of only for an instant, those who met them. Similarly equipped as his two companions, he wore a patched up frayed leather kabadion with most of its pteruges missing, a lithe paramerion hung at his side with a smashed up pommel and a tzikourion hanging from his saddle.

Nearing the men manning the gate, Areovindos hailed them while halting his horse and his companions.

"I seek an audience with the lord of your city."

The guards looked the travelers over. They did not seem Muslim. There was an enemy army bearing down upon the city but it was not besieged yet.

"An audience eh? Your lucky if we let you in at all. But, the Grandmaster has given orders to let the surrounding people take refuge in the city before the siege occurs. You three may go in. If you want to attempt to seek an audience, make your way to the center of the city. The Grandmaster has a command tent set up in the city center to coordinate the defense. One of his men will stop you and you can explain it to him. Proceed."

Areovindos motioned the two men forward and all three passed through the gate, intent on the center of the city. Even though unfamiliar with the layout of the streets bustling with activity, they soon found their way to the command tent situated in the city center. Areovindos dismounted and approached them before repeating the request he had given gate guards.

A man at a table in front of the tent was the stopping place for the three men.

"State your business. We're very busy here. You best not waste the Grandmaster's time."

Areovindos dug through a dirty pouch and produced a battered seal. He addressed the man with an attempt at a formal tone. "I am Strator Areovindos ek Samou and I have pressing offer for your lord."

The aide eyed the seal of nobility. He was a bit suspicious but the seal, while battered, was unmistakable.

"Alright, leave your weapons here and I'll walk you in."

When Areovindos placed his prized paramerion on the table, his companions quickly joined him and did likewise.

The three men were taken into a large command tent. Various tables were set up with maps on them. Unit commanders confered around the tables. In one corner, a bed was set up. Flanked by guards, Makedonios sat on the bed reading various unit reports. He looked up as the three approach. The aide announces, "My lord, these men wished to see you."

Putting a report down, the Grandmaster simply stared at the men and waited for one of them to speak.

Recalling vaguely some of the things he had learned in his childhood, Areovindos gave a curt bow before addressing the Grandmaster.

"Time is pressing and so I will not waste time. I have heard there is an large army of rabble marching on your city. I offer my services and those of my twenty-two men, in exchange for sheltering my people who number at about four score."

That got Makedonios to raise an eyebrow.

"And where are your 'people' at this moment?"

Areovindos considered the Grandmaster for a moment before responding. "A few miles away, no more than three by my estimate."

Makedonios turned to the aide who brought the men in. "Arrange a patrol to go and escort those people into the city. Set up quarters, food, and medical care for them. See to it personally."

Makedonios then turned to Areovindos. "Could one or both of your men here go with the patrol and show my men where your people are at? We should bring them in now. You're right, an enemy army is marching towards the city from the north as we speak. The patrol will leave at once."

Areovindos nodded to the two men he had brought, indicating they should follow the aide and then turned to Makedonios. "Thank you. I take it then you accept my offer?"

Makedonios nodded.

"I accept your service in defending the city. We need all the help we can get. 1500 of the enemy are marching here right now. And my army is only half that size, and untrained, as well as un-blooded. Our only advantage is in the large number of nobles we have on hand."

"Marshall Armatos is outside the walls with 3 of my Sergeants as we speak. We will let the enemy come and siege the city. When they roll up their lumbering towers, we will sally. At the same time, Armatos will hit the army on their right flank. I'll need you with me on their left flank."

"I need to stay by the army for moral purposes so I'll need you to go out on the far right wing of our army. Your job is to prevent their cavalry from flanking us. And to help me flank them. Accomplish this, and I'll see you have a place here in Antioch if you want it."

Areovindos paused, seemingly playing out the scenario in his mind before acknowledging the Grandmaster's words. "Understood, I will assemble my men as soon as they arrive. I do not wish to impose, but would you have per chance any armor to spare? Our years in Anatolia have left us woefully unequipped."

Makedonios nodded. "Of course, you and your men can help yourselves to the armory. Let me know if there is anything you need. Then I suggest you get some rest. Your going to need it."

Areovindos gave another curt bow before withdrawing. There was much do be done before the battle and he had much to prove.

flyd

07-05-2008, 09:01

I do remember it well, in a way. I don't remember the general day-to-day events, and couldn't give you a timeline, but there are images, sounds, and just moments that are in my memory as if they were two hours ago. I should have been eight at the time.

Before moving to the city, we used to live in a village that was maybe a mile outside Iconium. Most of my extended family lived in the same village. I guess we were shepherds. We had sheep. We had lots of sheep. Most of my early memories seem to involve sheep. My father had just started taking me with him to watch the sheep when he was called up into the army. I don't actually remember him leaving, I guess it didn't stick with me because I did not see its significance at the time, but he sure didn't come back. It wasn't long after that that we left the village, probably on the theory that it was safer behind the city walls. I do remember leaving. It was very strange watching people let their sheep out into the wilderness before they left.

So, I was six when we moved to the city, I think. Yes, we were there for two years, '71 to '73. We, that is my mother, little sister, and me, lived with my aunt in a small, run-down house near the city wall. And that was a strange time. I had been to the city many times before, often staying with these relatives, but this time people were acting oddly. The adults, I should say. The kids still played as always, but the adults were worried. Worried is a good word. If I was walking down the street with my mother, and saw someone we knew, there wouldn't be a jovial "Hey! Good morning! How are the sheep!?" but instead some serious and solemn conversation about "the Turks" would start. "The Turks," that's all anyone ever talked about. They had gone to this place and that, and did this and that. And they would be coming here, or wouldn't, depending on who you asked. The most detailed answer I ever got about what "the Turks" were was "very bad people." Nobody wanted to talk to you about it, just because you were eight. So I imagined them to practically be monsters. Giants, with big claws and sharp teeth. Honest to God, when I first met a Turk some years later in Constantinople, I was very surprised. He was short and skinny! I'm sure he could not even bite my head off. Oh yes, some of the rumors were perpetuated by adults. "Go to bed or the Turks are gonna come and eat you." I'm sure it worked well.

In any case, we left very suddenly. One day they said the Turks were here. And it was for sure this time. People were leaving, and we were too. I recall there was a lengthy argument between my mother and aunt, as the latter refused to leave her house and all her possessions. And it was a strange thing to do, to leave with only what you could carry, and even that was mainly food, blankets, some clothes, and whatever valuables you had. Still, I don't really remember anything we left behind, I suppose we didn't have that much in the first place. But some of the people who left with us made some strange, strange decisions on what to take. Some of them had wagons and mules or oxen, and I distinctly remember one family that had taken with them all their furniture: beds, tables, chairs, everything. It must have made sense at the time, after all, where would they sit, sleep, and eat? Though I do seriously doubt any of those objects made Nicaea in the end.

It was a journey of several days, though how many exactly I could not tell you. It was very far, and it was very cold. At first it was more far than cold. I remember a terrible soreness in my legs, but I'll be damned if I complained once. All the kids complained, they wanted to go home, but I said not a thing. I even refused offers to be carried, and did walk the entire way. Sister had to be carried, and there were always men around who were willing to do it. The food that we brought did not last long, although it was never much of an issue. Most of the villages on the way had already been abandoned, and among the things they abandoned were stores of food, not to mention livestock who were out and about in the wilderness. At least in the first part of the trip, it was mainly the distance that was the issue. At night we most often slept on the ground with our blankets, although on two occasions we slept over in abandoned villages. The group of people eventually spread out and split into smaller groups as some made faster and some slower progress.

It was the second part of the journey that was more tough. The terrain closer to the coast had gotten mountainous, and we did have to scale a proper mountain pass. Going uphill was even worse, but at this point, the issue of distance had taken a secondary place compared to the cold. I think it got colder in general, it was raining every other day, and the increase in elevation did not help things. It was not long before we started seeing people getting sick and dying. At first you'd see people digging graves and performing funeral services along the route, but after a while you just saw bodies lying on the ground. Mainly the elderly at first, but all kinds of people eventually. At that point, I remember only the cold. And it was very cold. I had given my blanket to my sister after she developed a cough, and I was very cold. And despite my very warm blanket, sister's cough continued to get worse. One morning I woke up and she was not there, so I refused to leave. Mother and the others who were with us tried to convince me that she had gone ahead with a group of people, and I was eventually convinced, but then insisted on walking faster so that we would catch up. I wanted to run out ahead, but they would not let me, and I was absolutely furious. It was only when my mother started crying that it came to me, and that is when I stopped asking questions.

When we arrived at Nicaea, we found the place packed. There were people from all over Anatolia there, and more coming in every day. We were told that we could rest for a day, and were given food and shelter for that day, but then had to move on, as more people were coming in, and not everyone could be taken care of. We left Nicaea towards the Bosporus, but when we got there, we found that we had to pay our own way across. Can you imagine that? It was very expensive, and only in selling everything but the clothes on our backs did mother and I afford to sail across to Constantinople.

Mother died about three years after we arrived in Constantinople. I did various jobs, and was for the longest time a fisherman of all things. Although I was also involved in a number of not-quite-legal things, and did learn to handle myself with weapons. I would have become a soldier, but the army was in decline, and there was no opportunity. I moved out to Thessalonike looking for work when I was thirteen. Now I do believe I have related the story of how I came to be the Comes of Thessalonike many times to many people, but you, my dear, are the very first person to have heard this story related.

AussieGiant

07-05-2008, 11:52

Near Bucharest 1098

The road towards the Bucharest had been swift and organised. Apionnas's heavy cavalry had initially struck out ahead of the two Militia spear regiments, leaving markers for the them to follow. Once the terrain had clear Apionnas had halted to rest his regiments mounts and had waited for the militia units to catch up so he could direct them towards the town as his scouts had planned. The cross country route was a risk but they had made good time and were now within a year of their destination.

It was here that things changed. He had moved away from his unit to meet with the two militia captains, both men and their second-in-commands where now approaching on foot at a brisk pace, a fifth man another 10 yards behind them. The tension in their movements alerted Apionnas that something was not as it should have been.

At fifty yards all five men drew their swords, the sun shone dully from their blades.

Glancing past the approaching militia men, he could see that both regiments had halted some half a mile away in clear view. It seemed as if the whole incident was going to be a spectacle somewhat like a gladiator duel.

So be it though Apionnas, their intentions are clear.

The composite bow he always carried suddenly appeared in his hand. Turning his horse ninety degrees he drew aim over his right shoulder.

Before the militia men had taken a further step one dropped suddenly, a gurgling sound the only noise that could be heard. With another flash, a second arrow shaft protruded from the body of the largest man, the barb had bitten deep, and the victim pitched forward without a sound.

They spread into a concave skirmish line. The flanks were circling, closing, the sun catching on their blades.

Then there was two. The crack of an arrow head impacting on skull shattered the distance between them. Eyes wobbled unnaturally, and the central figure in the group sank slowly to his knees. In those seconds, while the survivors faltered Apionnas pressed home. Casting his bow aside he stepped down from his horse and advanced on the left most man.

Steel clashed. He danced back, coaxing, chiding. Enraged, the militia man came in pursuit, striking out, forgetting himself, his eyes and muscles straining with exertion. He had been chosen for a reason. Apionnas feinted, parried and lunged. The militia man blocked with a flick of his wrist and a circling of his blade. He was good, but the sand held in Apionnas's hand blinded him and the following kick to the groin had its desired effect. Wiping sand from his eyes he shouted with rage, staggering forward. He overreached. With a side step Apionnas let him pass, aided his journey with a dagger thrust to the stomach, a beheading while he fell.

In desperation and a strange fatalism, the surviving militia man did not give up. Crouched low he focused on his defence. Apionnas wiped his scimitar on the breaches of his headless victim and tested the grip in his palm. Damascus steel possessed an appetite. He smiled respectfully at his opponent and spoke to him in Arabic.

'Your companions are dead. Surrender or face your God.'

His offer was declined, its rejection answered by a frenzied sword. With a sway of his waist and a billow of his Mansuriyya blue robe, the militia man was dispatched with a single blow.

All five down.

Mounting his horse he galloped towards the militia regiments. Behind him came the rest of his unit. Reigning in the white stallion bred entirely for hunting and war the Saracen looking officer, now in the employ of the Basileus himself, raised his voice.

'It seems as if there were some concerns with my appointment.'

Silence and a shiver of fear through the ranks was the only response.

'I hope I've answered those concerns and eased your fears over everything that is troubling you...if any of you wish to speak now is the time.'

Silence.

'Excellent. I'm glad there are no further issues.'

Glancing at his own captain, he nodded at the militia regiments. 'Select new captains, and make sure they are more reliable than the last.'

Ituralde

07-09-2008, 08:30

The Black Sea Coast, 1099

"Why are we stopping uncle?"

Christos followed the gaze of his great-uncle Pavlos towards the small roadside chapel. It was nothing more elaborate than a small alcove the height of a man, covered by a tiled roof and small cross adorning the top. It was also in a bad state of repair. Little plaster was left and several stones had already loosened the roof lacked tiles and the interior of the alcove had been overgrown by vines long since.

Waving his nephew to silence Pavlos continues to stare at the alcove. A cracked stone tablet was barely visible through the tangled vines but to the eyes of Pavlos the writing on it was as clear as on the day he first laid his eyes on it. "Aleksios Tsolakis" he voiced silently. It had been a long time since he had seen the name, since he had even dared think about the name.

It had been different times, for one thing Trebizond had been in the firm grasp of the Empire. A region that had been settled by Greeks since before Aleksanders conquests, it had always belonged there with everything that entailed. Imperial intrigues had been the downfall of his father. Support the wrong man at a time when there had been more Emperors in a year than horse races and you could loose more than your life. It had been safer then to adopt his mother's maiden name. Chrysovergos was safe, Tsolakis wasn't. Or hadn't been back then, the Emperor responsible for his father's death had himself been killed a long time ago. But with the turmoil the Imperial grip had also weakened. Too long had Trebizond lain outside of the Empire.

Tearing his gaze from the small chapel Pavlos looks at the surrounding landscape, the rolling hills, interspersed with woods, rising ever so gently from the Sea right towards the mountains in the South. Taking a deep breath one of the rare smiles appeared on his face. It smelled like home.

Privateerkev

07-09-2008, 16:23

Antioch: 1099

Makedonios walked down the street with the aid of his cane. With Nick and a couple guards in tow, he hobbled down the narrow side streets until he came to the apartment he sought. Looking at a slip of paper to confirm the address, he knocked on the door. A woman with head covering opened up and looked at him.

"As-Salamu Alaykum", he greeted in Arabic.

She looked at him puzzled but quickly replied, "wa `Alaykum As-Salām."

He stood as straight as his sickness would allow. "Greetings, I am Grandmaster Makedonios and I am the ruler of these parts. May I come in?"

Her eyes narrowed through the slit in her head dress but she nodded and opened the door further. Makedonios removed his shoes and walked in alone. His men took up positions outside.

Entering the small living room, the woman asked if Makedonios wanted anything to eat or drink. He asked for tea, which she quickly left to get. She shouted someone's name and an elderly woman came out of a bedroom, also covered. The elderly woman simply stood there and beared witness for it was not proper for a man and woman to be left alone in a room together. The woman returned with the tea and offered Makedonios a seat.

He took a sip. "Thank you for this meeting. I've been wanting to talk to you. I was the commander in charge of the army that took this city a few years ago. I was injured and rendered unconscious. During that time, the army, lacking nobles to lead it, killed many of the men in the city. From our records, your husband was one of those men."

The woman sat there and stared for awhile. Finally she spoke. "He was. Why did you come here?"

He answered her directness with some of his own. "This land was under Byzantine rule for hundreds of years. We believed it was time to reinstitute that rule."

"We were doing fine. We were under no Kingdom. We did not need, nor want, your rescue."

Her eyes were accusing. He took another sip of his tea. "The Empire will usher in a new age for the Holy Land. And my organization will safeguard this area from bandits and foreign powers."

With that, she snorted. "A new age? Of what? And to us, your the foreign power."

Calmly, he replied. "We've been stewards of this area for centuries. We're only returning things to how they rightfully should be. We will spread the light of the Empire and the Truth of Orthodoxy."

Another snort. "Orthodoxy? That isn't our way. You will regret coming here and trying to tell us how to live and what to believe. Even now I've heard you can not get supplies from the vendors or local populace."

He shrugged. "I did not come here to argue. I came to tell you I am sorry about what happened with your husband. Even though I was unconscious, I am the one responsible for what occured. I want you to know that there is a school being built in the city for the children of the men killed here. Our records show you have a son. Please come by the city center and there will be tables there where you can get him registered."

As she stared at him, he sipped the rest of his tea and got up. "Thank you for the tea. Khuda Hafiz."

Makedonios walked out and put his shoes back on. Nick and the other bodyguards came up to him. "How did it go my lord?"

The Grandmaster simply shrugged. "About as well as could be expected."

The group walked down the side street towards another address.

While walking, Makedonios thought to himself, One family down, one thousand nine hundred and seventy eight families to go...

ULC

07-10-2008, 01:43

Antioch 1098

Co-Op done with TheFlax

Iakovos sat at his desk pouring over the records for the reconstruction of the building and the letters between him and several distributors about the buildings materials that had to be shipped to Antioch for the construction of the University.

Anna had been kind enough to supply Iakovos with her patronage, so money was not a real worry, only making sure it went were it was supposed to. Iakovos sighed to himself, and leaned back in his chair. Everyday he felt more and more like an administrator, and every day he had less and less time to himself.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Iakovos stood up from his seat and went in search of a cup of tea. His head continued to swim with facts, measurements, and figures, and he hoped the tea and a little break would calm his mind.

A few minutes latter, Iakovos returned to his study, pushing over the door and suddenly stopping dead. His desk was a mess, and it was obvious many of his documents were missing.

Candles dimly illuminated the room as the sun slowly faded from the darkening sky over Antioch. Sitting at an opulent oaken desk, Anna wove words upon a parchment with calligraphic care. So intent was she on her task, she had lost track of time and was mostly oblivious to her surroundings.

A quiet knock came from Anna's door.

It went unanswered as she poured her undivided attention on the words she committed to paper.

The knock came again, much louder this time, and was accompanied by a voice. "Your Highness?"

The quill halted its unrelenting progress as Anna lifted her head, irked at the interruption.
"What is it?" She answered in an annoyed tone.

The voice answered. "It's a message your Highness. One of the servants came by and handed to me, said it was urgent and from the Capital."

Storing her quill, she rose and settled her self beside the desk. "Very well, come in."

The door creaked open and a guard entered, one of the newer ones it appeared. He held out a scroll with the Imperial seal on it.

Anna held out an expectant hand.

The guard quickly handed it over and with a bow ducked out of the room, closing the door after he left. A sudden stillness descends on the room.

Breaking the seal, she unfurled the letter and read it.

"A message to the Princess Anna Komnenos. Meet me at the University Fountain."

Anna dropped the letter on the desk and took out cloak and a head scarf. Moments later she was exiting the building with two guards in two. Cautious about the dimming light in the streets, the three attempted to keep a low profile as they made their way to the University.

The streets were extremely quiet, only the nearby gurgling of the fountain could be heard at all. A slight breeze picks up, and a disembodied voice is carried with it. "You two, leave us."

"No" Anna's firm tone was all the answer he got.

A slight chuckle echoes through the courtyard. A man of slightly shorter height then Anna emerges from the shadows, covered in a dark cloak with a hood, completely obscuring his face. He walks with only a slight limp. "Forgive me, I had not expected guards, or my letter to arrive so late."

The two men instinctively went for their weapons, but did not draw them. Anna did not move. "You'd best explain why you dragged me out here and at this time, lest I find myself aggravated."

The cowled man bowed low. "Of course! I am sorry for not explaining in the letter, but I would not chance it. There are two things you must know: First, is a mere information exchange."

She crossed her arms. "And second?"

The man seemed to shrink back and took a second to take in his surroundings. Turning back to Anna, he spoke in softer tones. "Second is part of the information exchange."

She motioned for him to go on.

"Tonight, a man dressed as a guard was to walk into your room, and would have killed you." The cowled man let the words sink in.

Anna chuckled lightly. "My, what a fantastic story." She continued with a sardonic tone. "However shall I repay you for saving my life?"

The cowled man stood straight. "Take it as you will, it is not my life that is in danger. I am sorry for disturbing you your Highness."

At the word "danger" the two guards tightened their grip on their weapon. The words failed to illicit any kind of reaction from her. "It is not that I disregard my safety, but I cannot believe the word of every stranger who meets with me in dubious circumstances and warns me of impending doom without a shred of proof to back up their claim."

The cowled man nodded his head, his cloak rustling. "Proof?" The cowled man reaches into his robes and throws something at Anna's feet, backing further away as he does so. "A gift: the contract between the assassin and the employer, who has used the very funds from the building of the University to pay for your own murder."

Anna immediately signaled one of her men to pick up the package. As soon as he handed it over to her, she inspected the contents.

Inside are several letters and a contract, each more incriminating then the last, each signed with the ek Kallipoleos family seal.

Her now somber expression was hard to decipher. "It seems I have erred in my judgment. This information is most appreciated. Now, name your price. For surely, this carries a cost." She lifted the package into plain view at these last words.

The cowled man seems to consider for a moment, before turning back to Anna. "Those who work for House Asteri...they interest me. I wish to know of the what goes on behind the curtains, and, if I am not mistaken, you seem to be in a perfect position to gather such information."

She shook her head. "You are mistaken, the man who leads Asteri hates me, he would sooner see me dead than share his secrets with me."

The cowled man seemed to slump slightly. "Surely you do not need permission. I did not ask the ek Kallipoleos family for what you now hold."

Anna gave a brief sigh, annoyance crept in her voice. "I am no spy and it would not be proper for me to divulge the secrets of the nobles houses of the Empire. I cannot take sides. What I can offer is coin, access to certain places and introductions to certain people. That is the best I can do."

The cowled man happily nods his head, his clothes rustling again. "That is acceptable, and forgive me for demanding to much in return, I let my eagerness get the better of me. But you need not worry about mere coin malady."

Anna tacked away the package in the folds of her cloak. "I assume we are done then?"
The cowled man nodded. "All but to know how to contact you acceptably next time M'lady, and how you may contact me as well."

"A letter will do fine." She looked him over. "As for you, how do you wish to be contacted?."

The cowled man chuckled. "Go the Hippodrome, I will know of it."

Ann frowned. "What if I am required to enter the Kathisma for other reasons?"

The cowled man crossed his arms. "Ask for a man named "Balatro" to serve you."

Anna nodded and turned to leave, taking her tense escort with her.

When Anna returned to her room, she found something out of place. It seemed someone had taken the liberty of going through her papers neatly and precisely, and wedged in between tow of them was a letter.

It read "Dearest Anna, I am sorry for the trouble this has caused you, but I am sure you would never tell a stranger the information I seek. In a few hours, you will find that the letters and contract presented to you will have lost all it's lettering, and the seal itself will melt into nothing. I do hope you had no intention of harming my brother."
-Yours truly, Aleksander ek Kallipoleos, Guardian of the Empire

Anna's features became distorted in anger and outrage. Nevertheless, she remained clear headed; she could retain at least one piece of evidence. Rushing to her desk, she took out her quill, her weapon, and transcribed the letter with calligraphic expertise.

Later that night, Iakovos had nearly ransacked his own room, interrogated a few of the workers and the foreman, and yet he still could not find out where the documents had gone. Sighing to himself, Iakovos wearily headed for his bed. Unlocking and pushing open the door, Iakovos is shocked for a second time that day. The missing papers sit nicely stacked upon his sheets, with a letter on top.

"I thank you for the use of your records Iakovos, they proved to be very useful. I hope we may work together even closer in the near future."
-Yours truly, Aleksander, Guardian of the Empire

TheFlax

07-10-2008, 02:08

Constantinople 1101

Anna fidgeted with her dress as she eyed the assembled crowd with apprehension. Her gold silk gown was decorated with pearls and gemstones. Over her shoulders she wore a semi-circular cloak lined in cerise silk, featuring a tablion of pearls and jewels. Her long raven hair and pale round face was revealed to all on this sacred day of matrimony.

Having just cleared the narthex with her attendants, she was now crossing the naos, where everyone was assembled in anticipation for the wedding. She noticed Ioannis Kalameteros waiting for her near the abside and slowed her pace. He looked slightly uncomfortable and nervous in a dark short tunica with embroidered sleeves over his light-colored camisa and cloth leggings. His mantle had a richly embroidered border and tablion and was fastened with a fibula. Ioannis could wait a little longer.

Anna let her gaze take in the majesty of Hagia Sophia which was covered by a central dome of more than a 100 feet across and nearly as high as the sky itself. It seemed rendered weightless by the unbroken arcade of arched windows under it, which helped flood the colorful interior with the light of the Heavens. The dome was carried on pendentives—four concave triangular sections of masonry which solved the problem of setting the circular base of a dome on a rectangular base. It's weight passed through the pendentives to four massive piers at the corners and, between them, the dome seemed to float upon four great arches. At both ends of the great church, the arched openings were extended by half domes carried on smaller semidomed exedras. Thus a hierarchy of dome-headed elements built up to create a vast oblong interior crowned by the main dome.

Finally, she joined him in abside, near the altar, and awaited for the priest to begin the ceremony. Anna was lost in her thoughts for most ceremony, trying to figure out how she could possibly endure sharing a bed with the man beside her. Nevertheless, when the two crowns where brought into view, she snapped back to attention. A discrete smiled made its way on her thin lips as her head was adorned with a gem-encrusted crown complemented by pearl dangles. Ioannis' crown in comparison was much plainer and bore no gems or pearls.

The assembled crowd fell silent as the priest intoned the ritual of matrimony. "O Holy God, You formed man out of the dust of the earth, You fashioned a woman from his rib and joined her to him as a helpmate, for it pleased your great generosity that man should not be alone upon the earth. Now, O Master, stretch forth your hand from your holy dwelling place and join these your servants Anna Komnenos and Ioannis Kalameteros, for You alone join the wife to her husband. Unite them in one mind and in one flesh, granting them fruitfulness and rewarding them with good children. For yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, now and ever, and forever. Amen."

The ceremony lasted a while longer, but Anna's thoughts wandered once more until it was time to for the heart of the wedding ceremony to take place. Most of the guests present at Hagia Sophia took the streets of the capital in a noisy procession led by the newly wed who guided them to their new home, where festivities awaited.

((On to the Wedding party here: https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showthread.php?t=105625))

Ignoramus

07-10-2008, 05:53

Bithynia, 1101

As Ioannis Komnenos walked back to his tent, he heard loud shouting coming from inside his tent. As he entered, two of his retainers abruptly broke off their heated argument, looking shamefaced.

"Now what is all this about?" inquired Ioannis sternly. "Have you forgotten that I expect better of my retainers? Andronikos, you speak first!"

The more senior of the two stepped forward. "Forgive me, Caesar, but young Bardas here was not paying you due respect. He has been complaining to me about your orders over the past few years."

Ioannis turned to the younger retainer, 'Is this true, Bardas?

Taking a deep breath Bardas turned to Ioannis. "It is true. Forgive for disrespecting you, Caesar, but I am sick of camping out in this deserted place. Ask the soldiers, and they'll tell you the same. We are marching to relieve Sinop, yet we have not moved a mile in the last four years!"

Smiling gently, Ioannis responded, "It is true that it most unusual, and I myself am partly to blame. I authorised Comes Chrysovergos to march on Trebizond, thus making it unwise for us to march upon Sinop. However, it cannot hurt to move closer to Sinop, providing we proceed carefully. I will pardon you for your disrespect, knowing it was frustration, not disloyalty that caused it. Try and trust me next time."

"Thank you, Caesar. I should have held my tongue, and I will learn my lesson.

00jebus

07-10-2008, 12:35

Bozkurt, Black Sea Coast, 1101

Lisas Attaleiatis had been awakened early on Sunday afternoon (well, it was early, as he saw it) by a member of his bodyguard who had been serving as an advanced scout.

Apparently, the heretical army that had taken Sinop, were not content to hold this prize just out of the reach of the Caesar’s army, but were actually arrogant enough to attempt to turn citizens of the empire to their side, and one of their priests (for want of a better word), had been preaching (for want of a better word), his cult to a town he had never heard of.

After swearing at his man for being awakened, forgiving him once he heard the news, and finding out where Boskerp or whatever its name was, actually was, Lisas and his men set out at once, and now they had arrived, on a hill overlooking the tiny town, in the dead of night.

"How fitting" Lisas muttered, "dead of night", he grinned, this would be his first action and he was trying too look braver and colder than he actually was.

He looked to his men
"Do we know where their staying?"
"Sir, A small tavern on the east side of town, it doesn't have a name, but then, it’s the only one in town.” came the reply from the man who had woke him up earlier today.
"Good," smiled Lisas, finishing his sentence in his head "...thing that my soldiers do nothing but drink when their off duty"
"Sir, his escort?"
"Expendable, we want the priest, and grab some ale too, the owners protest, gently remind them they were harbouring an enemy of the empire, dismount and move forward"

There were some appreciative laughs as they began the long quiet march into town

On their way to the tavern, Lisas smiled, realising that the local priests saw them for heretics and didn’t allow them to stay in their chapel. That means the locals were almost certainly pro-empire.

Once across the street from the tavern, hidden in an ally behind a wagon, they saw two guards pacing up and down the front, and a small flag gently flapping from a window on the second floor.

”Numbers?”
”There should be two more men on guard round the back, when I was here last there were 20 in total, including the priest.”
”Did you see what weapons they were carrying?”
”Yes, a mix of axe’s, knives and those weird two handed things Muslim’s use, the priest has a stick...”
”You mean a staff?”
”it’s big, made of wood and doesn’t have a spike on the end sir, that’s a stick to me”
”very well, no armour?” he questioned after observing one of the guards in the moonlight
”none, sir”
”Good, you” still not knowing his men when they were armoured, he just pointed and hoped it was one of his best “take your pick of 5 men and go round the back and clear the cellar, the rest of you were going straight through the front door, crossbows, release”

two dull thuds were heard and the guards fell like rag dolls

”move”

they ran to the front door, which was miraculously opened for them, a second later it a woman of about 30 appeared on the street, thinking fast one of Lisas’ men had grabbed her from behind and was now holding her in some wrestling position Lisas didn’t recognise, but it kept her quiet.

”As soon as its over, let her go, we’ll talk then” he addressed to both the man holding her as well as who he hoped was the owner, “now in”

Dull candlelight lit the room, revealing two drunks slumped over a table, “not a religious order then” Lisas mused after seeing two cudgels nearby them.

One of the drunks stirred “who was that thud?” he slurred, his answer came in the form of a spartha to the gut.

Lisas threw up, straightening up; he looked at the cups, “what were they drinking? God… that smells like it’s been drunk before” so maybe it was a religious cult then, he finished to himself.

”What’s going on?” came a cry from the stairs.
There, rubbing his eyes, was the very priest who had caused so much trouble.
His answer came in the form of a shield roughly bashed into his face.

”Easy” announced Lisas, “clear the building, you two, tie him up and carry him outside, you two go get the horses” he ordered his men

Walking outside, his intuition about who the woman was proved right, as he was greeted with a slap across his face, dull moans started to fill the night.

”Im sorry” he said to owner
”you should be, they were paying 100 florins a night!”
”So you’re only worried about money? You didn’t agree with whatever they went on about”
”yes, do you know where else I can get 100 florins a night these days?”
”yes actually, but not now, the empire is rebuilding, liberating new ground every day, what if I promised you a new Inn, under your control, in say, Sinop?”
”I don’t want to move”
”We’ll pay your moving costs, who do you know that drinks more than sailors or soldiers?”
clearly thinking about this the woman extended a hand “you have a deal… mr… I didn’t get your name”
”you have a deal with the house of Komnenodoukai you don’t need my name, don’t make me regret it miss, Oh yes, and one of my men couldn’t stand the sight of blood, so… have fun cleaning that up”

He walked away before she could protest.
She re-entered the bar with a disgusted look on her face as the cellar team rolled ten barrels of ale towards him

”load up that wagon, this should raise morale a bit, and if there’s still room when the priests on, liberate some livestock and maybe some fruit from those farms we saw on the way here, I’m sick of grain”

ten minutes and a rather full wagon later, and they were speeding off back to the main camp, Lisas wondered what the priest knew, but wondered more about what it would take to make him tell them what he knew, people who think their right with god, he was told by his teacher one time, are a real pain to make talk.
He grinned, for three years, he hadn’t realised that pun.

Comments, criticism welcome.

TheFlax

07-13-2008, 02:56

((Coop story written with YourLordAndConqueror and Cecil XIX))

Antioch 1098

Already three years had passed since her last visit, but Anna had not forgotten even a detail of her previous experience in Antioch. Again, she had come for Iakovos' project, of which she had become the chief patron. Not only did she wish to monitor the progress that had been made, but she also had one last item to deliver in person.

This time her escorted her carriage was accompanied a large cart carrying a heavy bundle secured by many ropes. Yet, the destination was the same and after cutting their way through the main thoroughfares of the city, the procession reached the main square.

As Anna exited her carriage, she readjusted her fluttering pale blue silk robe and secured her matching veil more tightly. With purpose, she sought out the familiar figure of Iakovos Kallipoleos.

Iakovos was waiting with the foreman at the Plaza with a small retinue and an honor guard. Stepping forward and bowing low, Iakovos smiled at the Princess. "Welcome to Antioch once again Princess Anna Komnenos, we are honored by your presence here."

Anna gave him a barely noticeable smile under her veil. "It is as always with great pleasure that I visit this city. I trust your project is progressing well? I have brought the statue, as I said I would." She motioned to the large cart.

Iakovos noticeably brightened at Anna's words. "Yes your Highness, already much of the structure is cleaned and fixed, although the interior is another story." Iakovos's eyes shifted over to the cart, looking over the statue. He chuckled to himself, and then motioned to the foreman and his men. "I trust it is acceptable if my men take care of it now?"

She motioned her men to bring forth the cart. "That is agreeable. Now, show me how the reconstruction has advanced."

Iakovos nodded in understanding. "Yes your Highness, this way." He led Anna back to the run down building, only too amazed that at the very least the facade had been restored to it's original glory.

The weeds, mold, and vines have been stripped away, and the courtyard has been restored to a brilliant white luster, the fountain merrily gurgling in the center of an elaborate garden in the shape of a Gordian knot, The pillars have been restored, the graffiti long since scrubbed away, and the once beautiful friezes slowly being restored.

Iakovos turned to Anna with a smile born of satisfaction. "I do hope you like it."

She took in every single detail before nodding with approval.

Iakovos motioned to the men to begin mounting the statue before he turned to Anna. "Care to step inside? We have only just begun putting in the new walling, but I can at least show you your room."

"Very well." She indicated with these words that she would follow him inside. "I must commend you on the diligence with which you have started rebuilding this place, I now see I choose wisely in supporting your project."

Iakovos straightened and blushed slightly. "You are to kind your Highness, I am merely trying to live up to your expectations."

Iakovos led Anna into the massive marble building, winding through the well lit halls, the light reflecting off of the white marbling. He stopped in front of a massive set of oak doors guarded by two well armed men in Imperial colors and proceeded after a slight nod to the guards, they opened up to reveal a wide open hallway well illuminated from several windows. There were three doors, one on the opposite end of the hall and one on each side.

Iakovos shook his head. "I am sorry it is not furnished, but they are on the way."

Anna took her time in observing the room and then moved beside a window. "This will do nicely, you have no need to apologize for such excellent work. I had not hoped for the reconstruction to be so advanced and I am more than satisfied with the progess I see." She turned to him with a warm smile. "Now I have delayed you quite enough for my own whims, I will leave you to your work. Worry not, I can easily find my way back to my retinue."

With these words, she slipped out of the room and made her way out of the university in construction.

The eleventh hour was already fast approaching and the sun was already dropping from the sky. Hemera was coming soon and if she wanted to get to the Order Chapter House before she would have to hurry. Acting on impulse, Anna decided to cut through an alleyway which by her estimate would get her quickly to her destination.

She had not foreseen any danger and was thus taken by surprise when she felt a strong grip on her shoulder. Letting out a yelp in surprise, she tried to jerk away from the viselike grip, but it only tightened as a result of her futile effort. Pain flared in her shoulder and Anna cried out, until an instant later her voice was muffled by a coarse hand. Then man stayed silent as she struggled in vain, soon she wouldn't have the strength to fight back and then she would be doomed. The man patiently waited for her to exhaust herself, thinking nobody else would venture in this alleyway.

He stared at Anna, admiring his catch with such focus that he was taken completely by surprise when another man clad in plate tackled him from the side, bringing him to the ground. Anna might have followed if two other men wearing lamellar hadn't held her fast. Suddenly they were surrounded by about two dozen soldiers.

The man in plate roughly dragged the criminal to his feet, before handing him off to his men. He paused to regard Anna, then lifted his visor. He had a stern look on his face.

"My lady, I pray that you are all right. Has he harmed you?"

She calmed herself with deep breaths. "I..." Although unnerved, she tried to keep her voice steady. "I am fine." Silently, she hoped the men had not recognized her in the growing darkness, else she would have to explain herself.

"Very Good. I am Armatos ek Naksou, Prince of Antioch and Marshall of the Knights of St. John. If you would but tell us your destination both I and my men would be happy to escort you."

Anna almost decided to mislead her savior out of habit, but realized there was little to gain in doing so. "I was hoping to reach the Chapter House of the Order of St-John. It seems I was careless."

Armatos's eyes lit up. "Aha! Well then, it must be the Lord's providence that we should meet up at this moment! Shall we go?"

She simply nodded.

He gestured back to where they came, and she followed. The party made it's way through the streets of Antioch before finally arriving at the Order's Headquarters. When the reached the foot of the stairs Armatos stopped, and turned to his second.

"Andronikos, take the rest of the men and continue the patrol. I'll catch up to you later."

As the soldiers resumed their duties, Armatos and Ann climbed the stairs and entered the Grand Hall. They stopped, and he turned to her.

"Now then m'lady, what business do you have in our humble abode?"

Anna paused for a moment considering her options. "I dare hope I can trust you in this matter." She took out her seal, before offering it for inspection. "I wish to visit your Grandmaster."

Armatos examined the seal, and his eyes widened. He quickly knelt, and averted his eyes.

"Your highness, please forgive me for not recognizing you sooner. I beg your pardon, but the Grandmaster suffered a particularly nasty bout of illness today, and the doctors have instructed that he is not to be disturbed. If it suits you, I can act on his behalf in matters concerning the Order."

She motioned for him to rise. "I'm sure you can, but this was to be a more personal visit. I have no outstanding business with the Order. Before I depart for my quarters I would appreciate some tea, can you arrange that?"

Armatos stood. "Of course, your highness." Quickly motioning to one of the attendents in the room, he ushered the Princess into a side chamber. There another servant was ready with tea for the Princess, and a glass of water for Armatos. They sat down at a nearby table as they were served.

"I do apologize for that trouble earlier." Armatos spoke as in between sips. "Antiokheia is but a shadow of it's former self, and the rehabilitation is largely a matter of time."

She gave him a warm smile. "Do not trouble yourself with that incident, such dangers are common, even in our illustrious capital. As I said, I was careless."

Armatos returned her smile. "I thank you for your understanding, your highness. If I may ask, are you staying in Antioch for very long?"

Anna took a delicate sip of water. "Unless I am delayed, I will leave within the week."

"I see. How do you find our fair city?"

She paused to consider a polite reply. "Antioch has always been one of the pillars of our Empire and our Faith. I am gladden to see it in good hands." Anna then rose from her chair. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should get going."

Armatos rises as well. "As you wish, your highness. I shall arrange for an escort to take you back to your quarters."

flyd

07-13-2008, 07:17

Camp of the Army of the Megas Logothetes in Anatolia, 1105

Megas Logothetes Markianos Ampelas sat alone in his tent. The most prominent thing in the tent was a large desk and several chairs. Even on the road, the Office of Megas Logothetes required lots of paperwork. Appropriately, there was much paper on the desk. In fact, the only thing besides paper was a large pitcher now half-filled with wine, and a cup also half-filled with wine. That is to say, the cup was empty. Well, now he refilled it. The cup was most certainly full of wine.

"Interesting," Markianos thought out loud, as he took a sip from the cup, his attention still on a piece of paper, "it seems the Turks have attacked Trebizond, and old Pavlo has attacked them."

"Interesting," he said with a slight expression of annoyance, "but tricky."

"We certainly have our casus belli. Trebizond was our loyal city. Well, it was our city, in any case. There was a tad of a disagreement, but they were still under our protection. The problem is, if we start making a big fuss about this, the Sultan might back down, given how powerful we have become. He might wish to appease us, and then the war would look like our aggression."

"So the trick is," he scanned the tent as if to prepare to say something nefarious, "how do we get the Sultan into a war he will not try to leave?"

Markianos chuckled an evil chuckle, insofar as sounds can be ascribed a good or evil morality. "Ah, but that is a puzzle that has a simple answer. All one has to do is compose one's complaint appropriately."

He took a blank piece of paper, and began to write a letter:

Sultan Meliksah of the so-called Sultanate of "Rum", Thief of the good Roman name, more properly called the Sultan of Seljuk prostitutes, debauchers, fornicators, heretics, pederasts, zoophiles, and necrophiles, and the Sultan of the Sultanate of small aggregations of huts filled with equine feces, and the follower of the False Prophet Muhammad, whose teachings are a plague upon this world:

I, Makrianos Ampelas, Megas Logothetes of the Roman Empire, bid you, the offspring of a horse and an ass, though much less useful than your average mule, fair greetings. I wish to outline the grievances of the good Roman people against you:

1. You continue to defile God's Earth by your pestilent and irritating existence upon it.

2. Your followers, described above, do the very same.

3. You have, with no provocation, attacked our city of Trebizond. You may try to claim that the city was in revolt, and even claim that they invited your protection, but both of these are false. Trebizond was still our city. We were having some differences, but the man we sent for peaceful negotiation with the city leaders personally witnessed your violent attack.

4. You spread the heretical teachings of your False Prophet, whose lunatic delusions you have taken for a religion, among the good, God-loving Greeks of Anatolia.

We have entertained the false pretense of peace for long enough. It is the sacred duty of the Roman people to drive you back to the barren steppes from which you came. There you may worship any devil, and engage in any acts you wish with your comrades, family, and horses, but our Anatolia you may not sully any further.

The Roman Senate, reinstituted by the great Basileus Alexios Komnenos, has authorized a declaration of war against you in the session of 1095. I am prepared to make that declaration, but in the interest of civilized diplomatic negotiation, I will offer an ultimatum. In light of the serious grievances listed above, I believe these demands are most reasonable:

1. You will immediately hand over Trebizond, Iconium, Caesarea, and Adana to the Roman Empire.

2. You will immediately abandon Armenia, which will be put under the traditional protection of the Roman Empire.

3. You will pay 60,000 florins in reparations for occupying our lands.

4. You will immediately convert to Christianity.

You have exactly two weeks to respond favorably to these most reasonable demands. Failure to do so will result in war. Do not expect a second letter, if you fail to comply, the next thing you will see will be our armies.

Markianos Ampelas, Megas Logothetes of the Roman Empire
Μαρκιανος Αμπελας

The evil chuckle had grown to an evil laugh as he read over the letter he composed. He helped himself to more wine, sealed the letter, and called in one of his assistants.

He handed him the letter, saying, "This to be delivered to the Turkish Sultan in Iconium. Tell the messenger not to wait for a response. In fact, recommend to the messenger to leave with all the haste as soon as he delivers the letter."

The assistant left and Markianos raised his cup.

"To..." he paused, "new conquests."

Reasonably satisfied with the toast he thought of, he drank the wine.

Fun OOC note: the Turks sent a diplomat on the 1104-1105 transition who proposed a ceasefire. I already planned to insult the Sultan as above, so I made them a counter-offer they... could refuse. In fact, they would be guaranteed to refuse and be mad about...

Ramses II CP

07-13-2008, 16:24

OOC: I'm writing this in the future so that it will eventually pull together better with the flow of events, but I have the RL time now. I don't know that word of these events would reach the Empire from any source but Vissa, but it's plausible that someone might hear a part of the story on the wind somehow. :laugh4:

Cairo, 1107

The great city, recently arisen as the mightiest in all of the Fatimid Caliphate, sat fetid and sweltering under a burning sun late in the summer. The Nile was unusually low this time a year, and many of the swamp basins west of the city had drained and become rich beds of black, bubbling mud. Farmers were carting off this fertile soil by the truckload, north and south to their fields, and the roads of the palace city were all freshly coated in a vile slime. Alas for the citizens, the smell of the soil, sewn through with rotting organic mass, was worse even than the traditional fertilizer utilized by farmers, camel dung, and a dank miasma hung like a cloud over all of Cairo. The odor was nowhere worse than at the slave market, just outside the Christian quarter, where the influx of slaves taken had also been increased by the drought, and the traffic of farmers leaving and slaves entering met and slowed roads all through the zone.

Vissarionas ek Lesvou was taking a break from the noise and bustle of the slave market at a little cafe nestled in next to a date merchant's warehouse. The dates here were exceptional and sold in every imaginable fashion, dried, seasoned, roasted, and even fried with a crushed nut and grain crust. In concert with the rich, black drink favored by the locals it was a snack which very nearly overwhelmed the stench carried on the hot winds.

Very nearly, but not quite. Vissa returned his last date to the tray he was eating from, drained his mug, and stepped away from his table to return to the market. All around him he could hear the strange up and down pitches of the various local languages, primarily Arabic among the educated, but still mixed with a smattering of others. Though he'd been studying Arabic it was still much a matter of intelligent guesswork when he was actually trying to understand it, and all mixed together it simply sounded like madness. That is why as soon as a voice speaking Greek came into his ears he immediately latched onto it and followed it's onrushing flow.

Followed it, grinning slightly, until it's full import struck him and he stumbled in the street. The voice was one of exceptional beauty in itself, clear and high, obviously a woman's voice, but the words... This woman was cursing like the crudest dock worker. A string of the most unimaginable insults, to lineage, intellect, and sexual ability. Some of the things the voice listed as among the qualities of the berated were surely not even possible, but nonetheless exquisitely vulgar.

Blushing furiously Vissa cast about for the source of this rich mix of sensations. There, among a trio of Palace guards, stood a woman covered from head to toe in deep purple cloth trimmed in gold, with a narrow band of thinner cloth forming a window for her to gaze out of, but still keeping her eyes from being seen. She stood in the street facing one of the guards while the two others gazed about to either side, and her fury was palpable. The group was just outside a small shop that sold beaten gold ornaments brought up out of the deep desert, and perhaps her anger was that the guards refused to allow her to go in and shop. In any case Vissa followed the sound of that golden, furious voice and walked to the front of the shop himself, gazing at some wax impressions the merchant had set out to display his wares without risking the actual gold.

When, at last, the woman paused for breath Vissa remained facing the display and spoke in a musing tone, as though to himself, in Greek,

'I had not expected to hear the mother toungue so basely treated in these streets today m'lady.'

Without the slightest hesitation the veiled woman replied, still in a tone of anger seemingly addressed at the guard, 'If your ears didn't hang open like the useful part of a whore riding a camel's hump you could have passed back to your Quarter without it, Christian!'

That voice. Rich, sly, angry, and uncompromising, but as pretty as a flower hanging in the air. Appropriate to Cairo in a way, a beautiful city itself now suffering under a magnificiently vile stinking heat wave. For Vissa, who had never known the touch of a woman and had not heard his language spoken by one in a very long time, that voice was capitvating no matter it's words.

'I must cry your pardon then my lady! I meant no offense, but to hear Greek spoken in your exquisite voice took me aside from my labors and gave me reason to pause. If you wish it, I will leave you now.'

A silence overtook the girl. Even were his back not turned Vissa could not have read anything from her features under the heavy veil, but the tension in the air was such that he was very nearly drawn to turn about and confront the girl's guards. A moment later the woman had walked right up beside him and reached her right hand out to stroke one of the wax structures delicately. Her hand was tiny and pale brown, but encrusted with the most remarkable array of rings imaginable. Her voice rose up again, but pitched just for him now,

'No, stay. You are the most interesting thing I have encountered all month. What is your name?'

Still Vissa did not turn to look at her, tried not to betray any sign to the guards who must be watching that they were speaking, as he replied,

'I am Vissarionas ek Lesvou, a senator of Byzantium, late of Antioch. I am most pleased to meet you.'

'And I,' she replied, 'am Aliya al-Badawiyya. The Caliph's favorite concubine.' Her voice somehow carried the sound of her eyebrow raised in curiousity to discover how the Christian would react to such news.

Vissarionas was stunned and amazed. Stories had been carried all through the city of this young woman, who had been asked by the Caliph himself to join his court and had the temerity to decline. The Caliph was not a man to accept such over easily, and so he requested that Aliya's Bedouin tribe marry her to him. Of course they assented. She was reputed to be a poetess of unparalleled skill, the daughter of a rich nomadic trader, well educated and incomparably beautiful.

'My lady your extraordinary reputation has come before you, and I am deeply honored. I pray your forbearance that I do not bow, for I believe your guardsmen would attempt to unman me if I did.'

Laughter erupted from her, and to cover it she turned with one of the wax works to show it to the guard, commenting something about it in Arabic. When she turned back she spoke again, in Greek,

'I take it then, Christian, that you do not know the meaning of the word eunuch?' The last word is spoken in Arabic.

Vissa replied cautiously, 'It is a term I have heard used to refer to the Palace guards dressed as yours. I presume it is a term of respect for their office.'

Again the trilling laugh, high and clear, and again the wry tone, 'Indeed, of respect! You intrigue me little Greek. I will see you again.'

'If you wish it my lady, but how is such a thing to be accomplished?'

Her tone turned to one of rich disparagement, 'Why I shall simply tell the Caliph I must have a Greek tutor. One hour a week I will send for you to come to the Palace and entertain me. So long as you do not become boring the wages will be sufficient to secure you here.'

'My lady your Greek is perfect. You have no need of a tutor, no more than I have need of wages.'

Once again her voice emerged full of wit, and carrying a laugh unrealized behind it, 'Then perhaps we shall see if you have other lessons, other talents. Indeed, perhaps you may teach me something for the Caliph!'

Turning once more to the guards the concubine abruptly ends the conversation, and Vissa can think of no further reason to speak. She addresses the guards in Arabic, and they move to form a triangle around her once again, impassively clearing a path as she once more resumes cursing them richly in Greek. As her voice fades into the distance Vissa stands somewhat awestruck before the absurd little wax display, considering what strange turns of fate time may bring. For years now he and Stephen had been slowly working their way into the confidences of some of the well placed slave traders, and making no small amount of money in the trade as a sideline. For years Rafi had inculcated himself with the beggar's network in Cairo, seeking a way to make a better placed contact. All of it to little avail, but all of it his duty, his destiny, to redeem himself in the eyes of self, Patriarch, and God.

And now one chance meeting with a slip of a girl shouting in Greek may turn out to be precisely what he required. As she faded into the distance he followed her divine voice lashing out horrific insults as long as he could.

'And you Ali. Your were born of a whore who stupidly rode a goat from Damascus to Cordoba without stopping, and when she finally stood up you rolled out coated in the beast's hair for him to piss on as you lay squalling in the dirt! And you Beram. Your father raised you solely on milk from the finest bulls in his herds, fed you only the most tender parts of pigs from his own left hand, and groomed your loving mother's hairy face every day! And you...'

:egypt:

deguerra

07-14-2008, 06:05

(Co-op with theFlax)

Kalameteros Estate, Constantinople, 1101

Ioannis closed the door to Kosmas'...no they were his now...to his private chambers to shut out the noise of the servants cleaning up down in the main hall. He had told them to leave it until the morning, but as usual had received a bow and a "Yes, Lord." and everything had continued as if he hadn't uttered a word. He sighed.

He turned around to Anna. She had switched the wedding gown for a delicate light purple tunica, embroidered along the edges. Her face was devoid of the usual makeup and she regarded him without expression.

So far he had been taken aback. He had expected more resentment than he had received from her, but he supposed her sense of duty had compelled her to play the accepting wife in public. But now that they were alone...

He studied her again. The memory of when he had done so last caused his cheeks to redden slightly and he gave a small chuckle. Giving her a wry grin he said: "You are certainly the most beautiful woman I have ever told that I don't like her. I cannot say I ever expected then to have you as my wife."

She shrugged. "I do as I must."

He nodded. “We all work with what is given to us.”

Removing the belt with his plain dagger, he threw it on a chair beside him. The thought occurred to him that he had never been unarmed in her presence before and he fought to resist the urge to put the belt back on. Instead he sat down in a chair beside it and looked up at her.

“I am curious. How do you expect this marriage to work?” There. Let her do the talking.

Anna slowly moved near him with a tired expression.

"I am your wife now, surely you have some inkling of what that entails? What is there to discuss? I am now bound to you, or have you already forgotten the oath? It is in my best interest to see you thrive, it is up to you to decide if you will let me help you, instead of letting your pride as a man get in the way."

He nodded again, looking thoughtful.

“You are bound to me, as you say. Bound to husband as to father before him.” He gave a brief smile. “The Kalameteros family has estates overlooking the sea outside Athens. They are yours. Use them as you please. I have heard of your work on the university at Antioch. I expect you to continue it, and if they offer you the position of Dean, I expect you to accept. I am grateful that you would help me, and I will let you do so as best I can. But you are no use to me if you try to bind yourself to me so hard you neglect yourself in turn.”

He held up a hand to forestall her speaking.

“You cherish your freedom, Anna, do not try to tell me otherwise. This is no compassion or kindness. I need you.”

He gave her a shrug and a smile. “Strictly business.”

Anna gave him an amused chuckle. "I think you misunderstand me Ioannis, while we are bound, I never intended of being your slavish little follower. As we are one, if one half suffers, the whole suffers. Do not worry about the possibility of my neglecting myself, I won't."

“Good.”

Ioannis looked at Anna and continued in a very innocent tone.

“Now I am just a petty country noble, who does not know the proper etiquette and customs of court. I am afraid I must ask your help in these matters occasionally. Tell me for instance, how would a royal princess react if her husband told her on their wedding night that he had the servant prepare her another bedroom, to use if she so chose?”

She frowned. "You do not want me?"

He sighed. “That’s not it. But it was I who arranged this marriage. I made that choice. I merely want…to give you some small choice of your own.”

Chuckling softly he added, “Plus, I do not relish the thought of you stabbing me in my sleep. When we last met before all this, you were going to make my life miserable, remember?”

Anna lowered her head, dark hair shrouding her features. Her words came slowly and with some measure of pain.

"Do not make this harder than it is Ioannis. Do not dangle before me illusionary choices. We both have a duty and cannot risk the shame of others learning we did not share the same bedroom in our first night together." As she lifted back her head, the matted black her clung to the side of her cheeks and her voice softly turned tender and reassuring. "I will not harm you Ioannis, neither will I think ill of you when you take me this night. There is nothing to fear."

Ioannis winced.

“I have kept bigger secrets than where I spent the night. But very well, sleep in my bed if you wish. But I’ll not….” He sprang up and paced to the other end of the room. “Why is this so hard? I have always done as I please and if I have knuckled under and done what was expected of me because it was necessary then I did it….”

He trailed off briefly before continuing softly, “I did it and I’ll be damned if I can’t do this.” He sat down again, face in his hands. “Fine. If this is what it takes to make this marriage work, if this is what is expected, if this is what is necessary I will do it, I will share your bed, I will sleep with you I will even love you.”
At that he started softly giggling or perhaps sobbing into his hand. “Good Lord, I think I’ve gone mad…” He started chuckling louder. “Yes, definitely mad. Even mistook someone for the Grandmaster at my own wedding.” He laughed harder at that, sprang up wagging his finger at Anna on the verge of saying something before bursting out into a giggle again and sitting back down, only to jump up again and dig at something in his pocket.

He produced a small elongated package, plopped down on both his knees and held it up for Anna with an smile “Here my lovely wife. Consider this your wedding present.”

She brushed most of her hair away carelessly and considered Ioannis. Slowly, as if uncertain, Anna reached out for the gift. Seeking to mitigate the growing tension in the room, she produced a playful smile. "Tradition would have you wait the morning for that, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless."

She unwrapped the offered present, a necklace with a small, but bright, jasper stone. As Anna placed the piece of jewelry around her neck, she continued mellow voice. "Thank you Ioannis, as long as we are joined, I will wear this." With that, she gave him a hesitant kiss on the cheek.

Taking his hand, Anna helped him back to his feet and pulled him close. Placing a finger on his lips, she whispered to him. "Let us get this over with." Without giving him room to reply, she suddenly led him hastily to their bedroom, as if in a great hurry.

Ignoramus

07-14-2008, 09:00

Constantinople, 1101

Ioannis stood proudly by his wife's side. As he gazed down upon his first son, he smiled. The Komnenoi dynasty was now assured. His father's work had not been in vain.

Calling a page, he thrust a hastily scribbled note into his hand. "Go and deliver this to my father, at once! Tell him that a son was born. A Komnenoi. Now go!"

As the page hurried off, Ioannis looked out the window towards the Hagia Sophia.

00jebus

07-15-2008, 13:30

Bithynia, Black Sea Coast, Caesar Ioannis’s camp, 1101

Captured side

Omar Al-Jeziz was sweating uncontrollably, not for fear of death, he had been true to the word of the prophet, praise be upon him.
Yes he was true to the prophet, Zhiznomir would have been proud of him.
Instead, he was filling this miserable tent he was being kept in with the horrid stench of sweat and urine due to him being kept drunk and deprived of a chamber pot, and Zhizomir made sure all his followers knew that alcohol was created by the gods for cleaning and purifying metals, not drinking like the Christian heathens or the payed guards that took him and others around the local villages, but here he was, every half hour, three men clad in chain mail would enter, force his throat back and pour some sweet alcohol down it all the while with odd pained expressions on their faces, as though they wanted to hear what he had to say, so he tried to tell them every time they came in.

He had not betrayed the garrison at Sinop, he knew it, and it was safe, like the prophet.
The three men came back in, this time there were the usual questions, the usual punishment for preaching the word of the gods as one man poured warm ale down his throat.
Their leader stopped them before they left, asking him about Sinop again and something else he didn't hear properly, Omar replied with a rude hand gesture and the words “I’ll never betray them!”.

Next thing he knew he was falling, When he woke again, he was quite sober, but also realised at once he was also naked, in a garden, could this be paradise?
maybe the gods would forgive him since his alcohol consumption was unwilling.
There they were, all three gods, all old men, with mighty grey beards and clothes of the whitest silk.
He kneeled before them, mumbled “Oh blessed fathers, thank you for forgiving me, I swore I would never betray the 800 at Sinop, nor the payed guards we were using to bolster the numbers, or tell them your prophet was in the wilderness, or that we were still having problems converting the locals to your word, even after the priests had been disposed of… wait… wha?”

Omar finished suddenly, as the smiling face of the leader of the three men who had been forcing him to drink was bobbing its way to him with a look of arrogant pleasure.

Before they could restrain him, he had lifted a dagger from his captor’s belt and stabbed himself in the heart.

Captor’s side

Lisas Attaleiatis was at a loss, in a wagon trailing behind his guard was an unconscious cult leader, he had to extract information on Sinop’s defences and the extent of the cult from him, that had been the whole point of the raid on Bozkurt, but how to do this, was a much harder feat than the raid itself.

Torture was out, Lisas though it was a barbaric practise, and his tutor back in Constantinople always said torture was too slow and unreliable anyway.
In the end, he settled on getting him drunk, an idea inspired by the fact that the most quiet and insular soldiers in the camp opened up about themselves when they had a few measures of ale down them.

On the hour, every hour, 4 men would go into his tent with Lisas, restrain him, and lift a cup (why waste good glass on prisoners? Lisas thought) of sweet wine to his lips, at first they had to pour it down, but after two hours he was hooked on the stuff.

After two days of this, and unfortunately no use of the pot that had been provided for his own relief, he really did start to smell, even the Alan mercenaries in the camp decided his tent stunk too much to venture nearby.

Still all they’d got from him so far was drunken slurring about his cult, before he greedily drank the wine that was brought.

Getting sick of the sight and especially the smell of this man, Lisas decided to ask him one last time about the defences of Sinop, warning that unless he received an honest answer about what he was asking, the wine would stop, and he’d use the bitterest of meads instead. In response, the idiot tried to punch him, but fell over and knocked himself out on a guards knee.

When this happened, Lisas volunteered three old members of the militia, giving them white silk clothes, and telling them not to cut their beards, had them take the cultist to a small wood not three miles out from camp, and told them to act like Zeus of the old gods.

There, his “gods”, a writer and his guard waited for the cultist to wake up, when he did, he rocked back a forth a few times before telling the “gods” everything they needed to know.

A smiling Lisas strode out to him, about to tell the cultist he was free provided he not preach to anyone, but before he could, the cultist darted for Lisas’s belt, withdrew a knife he kept for skinning game, and stabbed himself in his chest.

”Sir?” someone enquired to the side of him “is that all, or would you like to add anything?” it was the writer.
”Yes, 1200, seems like too many for me, unless the Caesar is both very good and very lucky, add my recommendation that we should hire more mercenaries.
He’s at the Princess’s, his sisters wedding right now, but as soon as he’s back, give it too him”
”Yes Sir” the writer bowed and left to fetch his parchments from behind a nearby tree.
He looked at the militiamen
”go back to your unit, you can keep the clothes, we are leaving” he added to his guard.
”No burial sir?”
”Suicide is a sin, if you kill yourself you deserve no dignity, no burial, especially when you do it with my best game knife” he added in an annoyed and slightly put out voice
”shame too, I think if he could be brought into the orthodox faith, he would have made a good priest, ahwell, Im sure some animal will make more use of him in death than he was in life.”

Though adopting a somber expression, Lisas was excited at the thought of finally seeing a proper battle on the walk back to camp.

_Tristan_

07-16-2008, 10:53

A sponsor
Belgrade, 1101

This is a co-op story written with Zim to try and justify IC Methodios' adoption through MoH

As Kosmas and his retinue entered Belgrade they were shocked at the sights that awaited them. If he hadn't known better, Kosmas would have assumed the town had taken by the rebels. He was not so much surprised to see empty farms outside the city, as many of the farmers might have still been seeking refuge inside the castle walls in case the rebels returned, but Belgrade itself seemed depopulated. Many of the homes and shops were damaged, some burnt to the ground. Others were still standing but appeared completely uninhabited, and appeared to have been looted. The townspeople Kosmas did see shied away from him and his men, and efforts to question them proved fruitless.

“What happened here? Plague or something more sinister?” Kosmas wondered.

Finally directions to where Methodios was staying were gathered from one of a number of bands of poorly armed and poorly clothed "soldiers", presumably the peasants that had been raised quickly to protect the town. Kosmas was led to a large house in the center of town, guarded by two more peasant soldiers armed with makeshift weapons. Unlike the roving band of armed townspeople who had been somewhat deferent towards him, these two raised their weapons as Kosmas and his men drew near. One looked frightened as Kosmas approached and would not take his eyes off of the ground, but the other, presumably the leader, stood straight and glared defiantly at the noble.

"Is this where Strator Methodios Tagaris is staying?" Kosmas questioned the guard he took to be the leader.

The guard spat "Who wants to know?".

Several of Kosmas' retinue put their hands on their swords, but he waved them back. Kosmas then dismounted from his horse to face the guard. If it weren't for the tenseness in the air it would have been an amusing sight, Kosmas, a noble of the Empire and dressed head to toe in armor, forced to look up to meet the eyes of the peasant guard, nearly half a head taller than him. Kosmas smiled at the man. "What might your name be, young man?".

The guard looked suspiciously at Kosmas. "Eudaemon".

Kosmas leaned slightly closer to the soldier. "Well, Eudaemon, to act in such a manner towards a noble I imagine you must be an important man, entrusted with the vital duty of protecting the temporary home of Methodios Tagaris, a strator of the Empier and hero. Would I be correct in this assumption?"

Eudaemon stood shocked for a moment, having expected to be threatened, before nodding.

Kosmas' smile grew broader. "In that case I would also expect that you know that Methodios has agreed to meet with Strator Kosmas Mavrozomis, that is, me. I was already delayed by some bad weather on my way here, and he has expecting me to come for the past few days. Now, a choice lays before you, young Eudaemon. You can delay me further, forcing your lord to wait until such a time as he sends someone out here to find out what is going on, or you can keep him from waiting further by letting me in to meet him. Which do you think Methodios would prefer?"

Without a word in reply, the guard turned to open the door, allowing Kosmas to enter.

Once past the door, Kosmas found himself in a moderately affluent house. He was greeted by a man of noble breed, though clearly not Byzantine. He extended his right hand to Kosmas, his left resting on the pommel of his sword, visibly lacking two fingers.

“Strator Mavrozomis, it is an honour… I am Giuliano Strozzi, aide to Methodios Tagaris. Welcome in Belgrade. Would you please follow me ?” Giuliano said, turning around.

Kosmas was led to what was clearly a study. Papers littered the desk. Maps decorated the walls. Most pro-eminent among those was one of Croatia, with many annotations around Zagreb. The room was devoid of any presence.

“Please have a seat, strator… Methodios will be with us shortly… We didn’t expect you at this time and he has been making a tour of the countryside, trying to collect all farmers that fled in the wake of the taking of the castle. I’ve sent someone to fetch him, he’ll be there shortly. Make yourself at ease. I’ll have some refreshments brought.”

Giuliano left Kosmas in the study. Kosmas went to the map of Croatia, considering the markings made around the city.

A short knock on the door preceded a serving girl bearing a tray with a steaming pot of tea and some delicacies. Laying it down on a console, she quickly bowed to Kosmas, saying a “My Lord” in a whisper before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Kosmas fetched himself a cup of the honeyed tea and settled himself comfortably to wait for his host.

A few minutes later, the door opened and a figure out of some Viking saga strode into the study. Tall, blond with piercing blue eyes, Methodios was the counter-point to Kosmas’ small frame and dark hair.
He was dressed in what could pass for peasants’ cloths, with cuffed boots on his feet, dust from his ride still covering him. A warm smile was directed at Kosmas.

“Kosmas… Will you excuse me for making you wait ? We thought you had changed your mind about coming this way…” Methodios said, shaking hands with Kosmas.

“I understand… We had some bad weather on the way that forced us to seek shelter for some days, hence our delay.”

“How’s your health ? I heard you had been struck down by disease…” Methodios continued, while washing away the grime, splashing water upon his face from a basin on a side table.

“Getting better day by day… Though in this foul weather…”

“Good to hear…”

Settling himself behind his desk, Methodios considered Kosmas, who had resumed his seat. “Sorry about receiving you without the proper decorum, but Belgrade is such a backwater place and with the atrocities committed here, there is a lot to do to bring it back into working order… I can’t even find a decent blacksmith… The last one was killed during the capture of the town, one of many to die that day… And all for nothing, if you ask me… Useless bloodletting by your man, Neoskaisareitis… House Asteri is not too well considered in these parts, as you may have noticed…”

“You mean that all this destruction was not done by the rebels ?” Kosmas was taken aback.

“No rebels never set foot in Belgrade… Anastasios and I cut them short before they launched their assault… For his all his failings, I have to admit he is a damn good fighter… If only he was not so sanguinary and cruel… Don’t misunderstand me : I have killed my own lot of men, more than I care to remember, but soldiers only… Men that knew what was at the end of the road… But never I have raised my sword against an innocent, as Anastasios is wont to do…”

“I see… Anastasios is a man of faith and I believe he can get carried away some times…”

“I’ll admit I do not share the same fervour… But you didn’t come here on some inspection tour, I believe… The letter announcing your coming told of grave matters you wanted to talk about.”

Kosmas leaned back slightly in his chair "Grave? Well, it is a matter of some importance, although I hope also a cause for some joy. Strator, by rescuing Belgrade from the rebels you have done a great favor to House Asteri. More than that, your stunning victory over the catholic rebels, against overwhelming odds, has made you a hero, especially here in Belgrade. Unfortunately, since my fall from power in my House, I lack much of the influence and power to reward you for your act."

Sensing Methodios is about to interject, Kosmas motions that he would like to continue. "I know, Strator Tagaris, that you did not put the rebels to flight out of any hope for a reward, but rather out of a wish to serve the Empire and its' citizens. Still, your selfless actions in saving Belgrade and the resultant acclaim among the people of the region deserve some response. Belgrade already belongs to another, and I lack any land or title to bestow, but there is one thing”. Kosmas leans forward towards Methodios. "As a member of the Imperial nobility, I have the ability to sponsor others to join, should they have enough public acclaim or other backing. I believe you possess the former in more than enough abundance Tell me, Methodios, does this idea sound pleasing to you?"

Shock left Methodios mute. Surprise was written all across his face.

“Me ? A noble ?” Methodios answered, finally recovering “But I am not even of full Greek blood…... My father served as a Varangian when he met my mother and though her Greek blood flows through my veins, there are some who would object to my being raised to the nobility… I am not worthy of such honours…I already owe everything I have to the Empire…”

"It is not just a matter of personal worthiness, although I believe you would easily pass by such a standard" Kosmas interjected "It is also a matter of timing. Right now your influence is high. You have won a spectacular battle despite minimal resources, and saved a settlement belonging to the Empire. The people of Belgrade regard you as their savior, and your name and the tale of your victory are on the tongue of many throughout the Empire. The people are fickle, however. War with the Turks is imminent, and the front is far from Belgrade, where you may not be able to participate in time. There will be other victories, other heroes, whose names instead will be on the tongues of the people."

Kosmas leaned back in his chair and smiled. "This is an opportune moment, in which your influence will force the Emperor to accept you into the nobility. None can deny you now. It will not make things easy. Some will accuse you of opportunism, as if choosing the right moment to do such a thing is something to be ashamed of. You may gain new enemies, although you will also have access to new allies, and new opportunities. So what do you say to my proposal ? Will you accept my sponsorship ?”

Methodios remained silent. He stood up and began pacing the room. He then stopped before one of the window and remained watching out. Finally he turned and faced Kosmas.

“I cannot refuse such honours though I feel I do not deserve it… All I did, I did for the Empire and not for some vain glory, whatever others may think. Strator Mavrozomis, I thank you most sincerely for coming here and offering so much.” Methodios said, offering his hand to Kosmas. “I hope you will remain here and enjoy our hospitality, though I fear the town is a little bleak right now… What Anastasios did to this town has left it marked for a long time, I fear.”

Kosmas shook his head. "I am sorry, Methodios, but I have a wedding to attend. My friend Ioannis Kalameteros and Princess Anna Komnenos marry this coming week, and I must depart quickly if I am to make it time. I hope to talk to the Basileus about my sponsorship of you there. Perhaps we will meet there."

******

GeneralHankerchief

07-16-2008, 12:55

Co-op between myself and Ramses II CP, mostly Ramses. Posting this now because it's already past 1108.

Cairo, 1108

Vissarionas ek Lesvou was returning to the Palace for yet another stimulating tutoring session with the Caliph's favorite concubine, Aliya. The two had known each other for just over a year, and their relationship had been an extraordinairy influence on the young man's life. At his request the girl had moved the meeting to a more central room; though his time with the girl consumed and occupied him, was often the focus of his thoughts for days at a time, he had not forgotten his mission. His redemption rested on securing a place close to the power structure here and this was the best possible avenue. The concubine was mercurial and impossible to deal with on some days, but she was a devoted friend as well, and for all the years of work making contacts this was the closest Vissa had come to the true center of events in Cairo. Walking down the hall Vissa knew he would pass mere feet from the Caliph's most private chambers.

At last, after so many years, Vissa had arrived: The Caliph's inner sanctum beckoned. And the timing was perfect, too, for the master of Egypt was deep in conversation with his trusted viziers and other advisors. Vissa listened like he had never listened before in his life. After all, this was what the Patriarch had wanted him to do. This was to be his penance for Antioch.

"...the ancient monasteries?" a voice came, drifting out of the elaborate, alien chamber. "How interesting. Are we sure we want to proceed with this?"

"Absolutely," came another voice. This one was deeper and richer, and much more self-assured; the voice of someone used to being listened to and respected. There was little doubt that this man was definitely the Caliph. "I cannot allow this sort of thing to happen, after all. Yes, the ancient monasteries are to be destroyed immediately, the ones that are still standing. I've left them up for far too long as it is. This land, Allah be praised, has long been purged of heathen control."

The ancient monasteries! Vissa shuddered in disgust. These were ancient Christian holy places - somewhat overlooked, especially with nearby Jerusalem, but holy places nonetheless - and the Caliph meant to destroy them! Every good Christian scholar knew the names of such figures as Paul the Hermit, Saint Macarius, and Anthony the Great! It was these early figures and their places of worship that allowed the Christian faith to initially grow. Orthodoxy itself rested on the backs of such great figures, and yet they were in great danger.

Vissa crossed himself, silently thanking God and the Patriarch for sending him on this mission. Evil was clearly at work here in Cairo. After this ritual was completed, he continued listening carefully.

"I think it's time I finished the job," the Caliph continued. "Clearly, any Christian influence in these lands, even a weak one, is blasphemous and ultimately detrimental to the good Children of Allah. It's time that we start following Sharia more closely."

"What do you suggest, Your Excellency?"

"Expel some Christians from Cairo. Kill the rest. And make certain we expel those after we kill the others, so that the expelled know never to return. From now on, there will be no place for Christians of any denomination in Cairo."

Vissa was astonished to hear this from the Caliph. The Christian quarter in Cairo was a rich and diverse area, and though the Coptics have been played against the Gnostics of late there was no warning of such a storm coming. Some sort of religious fervor must have overtaken the leadership. It was time to go. There was much to be done. His retainers had to be gathered back in, a way out secured, and as much of his amassed resources and wealth as possible carried off. Briefly Vissa was distracted by the thought of Aliya languishing in the office down the hall, wondering what could have kept him, but duty must come before pleasure!

It was now evening, back in the familiar neighborhood. A runner had been sent to the docks, and as much as could be salvaged in haste from the trading business had been gathered. Vissarionas had told his men of what he heard and now they were all packing as fast as they could, not to mention checking the streets roughly every two seconds for any signs of soldiers. Duty for the Patriarch or not, it was time to get out of Cairo while they still could. Besides, he was sure that Nicholas would want to hear about this as well.

"Vissa." Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Stephen, one of his retainers helping to pack. He pointed down the street, where five soldiers were making their way down. They did not seem to be aimlessly walking, passing the time by; nor were they looking around. These were men who knew were they were going. There probably wouldn't be time now to warn any of Vissa's Coptic allies.

It couldn't be the opening of the suggested slaughter, the Caliph would send more than five for that, but still Vissa uttered a brief prayer in their names. No, it must be him that they came for, must be his name on their scroll. Perhaps Aliya had mentioned his failure to appear to someone. Perhaps the new route had been mapped, and the timing figured out... Perhaps Vissarionas' luck had run out.

The soldiers, one of them carrying a piece of parchment, stopped right in front of Vissarionas's quarters. The one with the parchment looked down at it, looked up, and then nodded to his men. Just his luck, they approached Vissarionas as he was securing his saddlebags to his horse.

"Vissarionas ek Lesvou?" one of them asked.

"Yes?" Vissarionas replied, figuring honesty was the best policy.

It wasn't. Upon hearing confirmation of their man's name, the soldiers all drew their swords, without a word, and made for him. From up the street there came a vibrant TWANG and a crossbow bolt took the front guardsman in the throat. The others halted and hesitated, looking for the source of the fire, giving Vissa and his men time to mount their horses. Vissa drew his sword, twirled it expertly in the air to draw the Egyptian guard's attention, and then reached down and a gave Rafi his free hand to help him up onto the horse behind him after the boy ran clear of the alley the shot had come from.

"Ride!" At his command the horses leapt into motion, carrying him and his three retainers down the quiet streets towards the dock. Their speed was somewhat hampered by Rafi's extra weight, but his stallion was up to the task of adding the boy's slight weight to his load. As they passed down the roads locals scattered out of their path, and they glimpsed groups of guards moving along parallel streets. None of them were mounted, but word had clealy passed ahead of them. The Cairo dockyard was packed with ships of all sizes and shapes, the the dock workers were moving cargo of every on every side. Fortunately Vissarionas had been operating in the slave trade for years, and had ample contacts among the ship captains, so as soon as he rode up he knew instantly which ship to seek.

"The Golden Grape lads, and be quick!"

The captain was a massively fat Venetian whose ship was laden with spices and a few select slaves of particular value. Vissarionas knew the man was preparing to depart today already, and wouldn't be shy about accepting a large commission for a small detour in the direction of Constantinople. There was a considerable commotion in the dockyards as the Palace guards attempted to move in and the general chaos of the scene restricted them from coming in force. By the time they had cleared a path the ship was already setting out at sea under a favorable wind. The journey would be long, but at last redemption was within Vissa's reach!

Once the city was well out of sight, though, Vissarionas kept wondering about the chain of events that had led to his premature departure. Two questions burned: What had set the Caliph to take such drastic measures and how did the guards find out about him?

These were two questions that he would long ponder as the Venetian ship slowly made its way to the Byzantine capital.

TheFlax

07-16-2008, 18:23

((Coop story with AussieGiant, YourLordAndConqueror and Deguerra))

Constantinople, 1105

The afternoon sun was still high as Anna was waiting for Apionnas Vringas in an out of the way building. She paced impatiently in room near the entrance, finally only stopping a moment to undo a white silk veil completing a then robe of varying pastels overlaying a warm tunica embroidered with purple and gold threads.

A clearing of a voice was the first startling moment that Anna realized she was not alone. Turning rapidly, her eyes widened at the sight of Arab clothing but she quickly realized who it was.

He was dressed seriously. The blue Saracen Mansuriyyan officers cloak covering his faded crimson brigantine jacket. Twin scimitars at his side. His eyes blue and sharp a constant contrast to his dark burnt skin.

Bowing, he straightened.

"Assalaam Alaikum my lady, sorry for the deception. I'm a little concerned. Should I be?"

As soon as Anna composed herself, she replied.

"Possibly." She pulled out a scroll. "Have a look at this." Handing it to him, she continued. "This was in my things after I found my room in Antioch ransacked."

He scanned the scroll quickly. The familiar raised eyebrow the only obvious reaction to what he was reading.

"I'm unaware of this Aleksander ek Kallipoleos. Should I know who this is? What and where are these letters and contract he speaks of?"

Anna shook her head. "No. The letters and contracts were proof of his family's involvement in a plot to kill me, it was all a ploy, of course, to occupy me while he want through my letters and notes. I cannot suffer such an insult to pass without retaliation, I hope you understand this."

Folding his arms across his chest Apionnas studied the woman before him. After a moment he said in a steady voice.

"Are you saying that the very family that you are supporting in Antioch tried to kill you? Surely this is something for the Grand Master to deal with if true? I understand retaliation, but what do you have in mind?"

She held out a hand for the scroll. "The talk of a plot against me was simply a distraction, nonetheless I do not appreciate being played. I will attempt at another meeting and if successful, I need you to capture the man who will present himself there."

Again another moment passed as Apionnas' steady gaze appraised the Princess.

"As you wish. I have just one question. What is the information this man seeks?" It was clear the answer was important.

Anna turned her gaze away from Apionnas, obviously troubled. "I know not. He did not seem to want anything in particular, I suppose any of my secrets would have satisfied him."

"So a family member of Iakovos ek Kallipoleos identifies himself clearly as the person who ransacked your apartment, he then states that he did this because you would never tell him the information he seeks and finally states that he hopes you would not hurt Iakovos.

What is the reaction that will provide the most benefit for you? I am certainly prepared to help, but a disturbing yet harmless act could escalate here if we are not careful. What is your plan?"

Her stern expression and years of training kept at bay her growing rage, for now. "I want to make it clear that I will tolerate being spied upon and that no one will rummage through my room without consequences. There can be only escalation if there is a conflict, I intend to make sure that such a conflict will be prevented... permanently, if you get my meaning." Calming herself visibly, she continued. "Now, it is simple. I will lure a man to a location I will give you once the meeting is set, you need only set a trap for him. I want him alive though."

Apionnas noticed the imperceptible signs of annoyance from the princess. Satisfied that this was no flippant wish of a compulsive woman he bowed deeply.

"By your command. I will take the person alive.”

---------------------------------------

The next day, by way of Balatro, Anna had set up a meeting in one of the back alleys of the capital and in her most discrete clothes she had rushed there as twilight fell on the great city. Two sturdy and well armed guards accompanied her in the dimly lit streets until she reached the designated alley, which she entered alone, leaving them to stand watch at the entrance. She took a few careful steps in darkness and scanned her surroundings for any signs of the person she had come to meet.

A voice crept from the darkness. "So you came, interesting. I know few with such bravery, or foolishness, in them." A shadow moved from the darkness, tall imposing, and hooded. The only thing that stood out was the slight clink of mail. "To business I suppose?"

Anna's voice was surprisingly confident. "Yes, to business."

From a recess in the alley another figure emerged. Anna's guards also detected movement from outside the alley.

The hooded figure, turned sharply, keeping Anna within eye shot but focusing on the intruder. "Declare yourself!"

A calm and icy reply was combined by the hands of the shrouded figure falling to the pommels of his twin scimitars.

"I might ask you the same question. The answers are irrelevant. Yield now!"

The hooded figure flexed his hands, and two knives appeared in them, whether they could be thrown or not, one could not tell. "What is this? Treachery? I have no quarrel with either of you, and nor will I yield to useless threats."

The scrap and glint of Damascus steel reflected in the light. The twin scimitars now held low and ready.

"You have trifled with the wrong woman my friend. It is you that have been playing games and it is you who need to face reality."

At that moment four additional figures appeared at the end of the alley. The way is now blocked, the odds now dire.

"I say again friend, yield. I can assure you your life is not under threat."

The hooded man chuckled under his breath. "I am to believe that once I lay down my arms I will not be shoved into one of the Empire's dungeons to be forgotten? That is a quite a boast. And you confuse me with playing games. Games are reserved for mere children." The hooded man's hands tightened upon the knives, but then let them fall to the floor.

The twin scimitars remain drawn. The fact that the man has dropped his weapons does not seem to convince the shrouded figure.

With a nod of his head his men approached the figure.

"Take his weapons, search him and hold him."

The hooded man submitted to the search. four knives, two daggers, and three vials of a clear fluid, along with a few sheets of paper were found on him.

Anna, now once more flanked by her two guards, led them back to the unremarkable building where she had met Apionnas earlier. Leaving the guards at the entrance, she brought the others to a secluded room where two men were already waiting.

The more immediately obvious of the two lent against the far wall in an uncomfortable manner. He was a terrific sight to behold. Despite a dark complexion that identified him as Mediterranean, he was taller than most Greeks and had a head shaved save for a topknot of black hair. A brutal scar ran down the side of his face, disappearing underneath a patch where is left eye should have been. In its place, the patch itself contained a crudely drawn eye, painted in vibrant red. Across his back he had strapped a large western two-handed sword.

As they entered he gave the newcomers a grimace and burst out.

"Took you damn time didn't you. We were getting bloody worried that something had gone Q&%@$ wrong!"

"I thought I told you to watch your tongue!"

The other man stepped from the shadows. Unlike the first he was no imposing sight. He was of slender stature with arms that seem to large for the rest of his body. His face looked gaunt and tired, contrasting only with his intense eyes. A mere two weeks ago, his appearance would have elicited no comment in the streets of Konstantinopolis and his name would most likely have been greeted with a questioning "Who?". That was the way he liked it. Ever since his recent marriage to the Basileos' daughter, he detested his brief flash of fame, and hoped it would all be forgotten soon. His face impassive, he turned to the man holding the prisoner and gestured towards a chair.

"Put him over there."

With a nod of his head Apionnas's men place him in the indicated chair with some force. With a second nod of his head they retired into the next room.

Moving to a corner of the room to better observe proceedings Apionnas nodded at the intense figure.

"My Lord, congratulations by the way. I never got a chance to say that in the great hall."

The hooded man seems to cock an eyebrow, even from under the dark recess of his hood. "Do I know you? Oh, yes, Ioannis Kalameteros, husband to Anna Komnenos, leader of House Asteri? And you, you're Apionnas, the Emperor's lapdog? What an interesting collusion we have here..."

"Thank you Apionnas". Ioannis walked over to the hodded man, looked at him silently for a moment and then took a chair opposite him, and studied his face for a while, before beginning to speak.

"I don't know who you are. I don't care who you are. I don't know what you do for a living and I don't care what you do for a living. But, it would seem my lovely wife has been receiving rather unwanted attention from either yourself or those you work for."

At this Ioannis lent in closer. "I don't much like it when people threaten my wife." He shrugged. "But that is for another time. For now, my wife has questions and she wants answers. I want answers."

He sat back again and studied the other man some more.

"I suppose at this time it is appropriate to show my willingness to hurt you by some sort of show of force. I would like to avoid that, but even if you have hopes concerning my squeamishness, I am sure you will not feel the same way about them."

He gestured towards Apionnas and the tall man.

"Just do not waste my time. It is late and I would much rather be in bed. Answer my questions, and I promise you you will not be harmed. But if you screw around with me, if you make me feel like you are not being honest with me, if you make me feel ridiculous...then I swear by god you will not leave this place alive."

He gave a forced, thin smile.

"Now. Can we get down to business?"

The hooded man laughs weakly. "I would not think I have much of a choice, so ask your questions. I ask only that my identity be not revealed, otherwise, you will get nothing from me. My life ends when it is known."

"Save the drama for a better audience. I've told you already I don't care who you are and I don't think my wife cares any more than I do.

What is of interest is what you are. Despite the theatrics, I cannot assume you are a spy because spies don't usually let themselves be caught quite so easily.

So tell us, oh mysterious one, who do you work for, and what exactly is it that you do? What was your purpose this night?"

The hooded man's body seemed to smile. "To the point, I like you. I work for an Organization, lead by a dead man, and I think that is all you need to know. As for myself, I am a simple saboteur, and my mission tonight was simply to make contact with Anna if she should request the services of our our Organization."

Ioannis brought his face very close to the hooded man's.

"Oh you think do you? I don't recall asking you to think. I think, however, that I need to know much more. Let me give you a little advice on publicity, a specialty of mine. When attempting to offer your services, ransacking rooms and making threats is generally not the way to success. Such behavior is liable to leave lasting doubts about your motives with those to whom you are offering your services. To the point, then, seeing as you like being to the point, I would suggest you expand on your necromantic organization or you will be joining its leader very shorty."

The hooded man was unfazed. "You will have to excuse that rather rash action on our part, it was both an error in judgment and mixed signals from one of our operatives, who has been dealt with."

The hooded man took a deep breath, and prepared himself for something he has known would come.

"Maybe you do not see it, so let me explain to you. If I tell you anything, then the Organization will see to it that I die, and even if I do tell you something, I am sure you will kill me. I have absolutely no incentive to tell you anything, for I will gain nothing in doing so."

"Rash? Error in judgment? I'll say. So, you are prepared to die, oh hooded one? Then why bother with the theatrics of your identity? Why tell us what you have so far?

Ask yourself again, if you truly have nothing to live for. No goals, no family, no hopes and aspirations?

And are you truly ready to die? To face your creator? To face what comes before death? Tell me, mystery man, have you ever drowned before?"

The hooded man seemed frozen, his tone flat, his voice a whisper. "You put in me in quite a position Ioannis. Your arrogance puts me off from telling you anything, as does your foolishness. Kill me, see where it gets you, see what dead men tell. I live to serve the purpose set out by the Organization, and to tell you that would betray it: this I cannot do. So drown me, and suffer what ever consequences may befall you."

The hooded man smiled and pulled back his hood to reveal close cut brown hair, a scar across his face running from above his right eye, across the bridge of his nose, and ending under his left eye. His eyes were a near colorless blue, and they stared deep and penetrating, giving the impression he saw through his interlocutor to something else.

"I fear neither pain nor death Ioannis, for such fears where washed away long ago when I joined the Organization as a child. I was born Ignatios Angelus, I will die Ignatios Angelus."

Ignatios chuckled to himself. "I would be careful about your daughter, Helena, I am sure the organization will want to replace me with something of suitable value. Oh, and do be careful that you do not break those vials of mine, two are acid, and two are liquid fire. Wouldn't want this whole place to burn down around you, now would you?"

While Anna had remained inscrutable during the interrogation, the mentioning of her newborn daughter broke all the self-control she had left. Her voice was hard and charged with emotion. "You can't be serious? You people would go so far as to threaten an innocent child for your own twisted agenda? You sicken me! What had I ever done to you people to be dragged into this? I never asked to have anything to do with you lot and yet your "organization" barged into MY life and into MY family's life! You had no right! So keep your threats wretched creature, I want nothing more to do with you or your people." Her voice faded to a barely audible whisper accompanied by a quiet sob, she seemed spent and on the verge of collapse. "I simply want to live in peace, is that too much to ask?"

Ignatios turned to Anna, his eyes took a more sympathetic light, along with his voice. "Your highness, maybe you will never understand us, and I doubt you ever will, but what happened to you on that fateful night was in fact a rogue element, something we had suspected, but never realized to the degree Symeon would pursue his ambitions. As for your child, I make no threat, I give only warning. It would be foolish of me to die before the Lord in such a vile manner. I would not be here, where I am now, if it were not for Symeon, who even now eludes us."

Ignatios's gaze turned blank. "We all want peace, and we each seek it in our own way. If you would but allow me to kill Symeon...then maybe I can die in peace, knowing that both the Organization will only be in debt to you, and a dangerous element, a very danger to the empire, is extinguished...

Ioannis walked over to his wife. He hesitated, briefly placed a comforting hand on her arm and then returned to the seated man. He looked at him in silence for a while, then smiled.

"It was you who brought up death. I never intended to kill you. But it seems you are a hard man, prepared to die for his beliefs. Good. I'm a reasonable man. You have given your assurances that the threats on my wife were unintentional and will be punished. I can accept that. You must forgive me if I get angry, but when my family is at stake...Now I am quite prepared to do as you say, to let you go and find this...Symeon. But I must know more of this...Aleksander character first."

Ignatios's gaze turned back to Ioannis. "He is an associate of mine, from long ago. I have no idea why Symeon would use Aleksander's name, except to implicate his brother, for reasons I cannot fathom. In the short time I new him though, Aleksander might have been considered...a radical, in many, if not to many, ways."

Ioannis sighed audbily and then yawned. "Well, this has been a complete waste of our time. Tell your organisation we are not interested, and we do not care to ever hear from them again. We are not interested in anything you have to offer. Primos. Show our guest the door."

With that, the big man detached himself from the wall, took the seated man carefully but firmly by the shoulder and directed him towards the door.

Ignatios chuckled as he was being lead away. "I can do no such thing Ioannis, in fact, I will never see another Organization member ever again. They will make sure I cannot find them, ever, so there will be no way to let them know of your wishes..through me at least."

Ioannis and Anna walked through another door without acknowledging the other man.

ULC

07-16-2008, 21:47

Antioch, 1105

Coop story done with PK :2thumbsup:

The last few days, Makedonios has felt a near presence, following him just as surely as his shadow does. Each day it has drawn closer, but whenever he would attempt to catch this would be pursuer, he finds only empty air.

Finally after days of mind numbing waiting, Makedonios returns to his rooms late at night only to find a dark figure sitting in a chair in the corner. The dark figure speaks with a voice that is melodic, feminine, and soothing.

"Come, sit Hypatos, I am sure you are wondering why I have been following you."

Revitalized by finally being free of that dreadful sickness, Makedonios lunges to a fighting stance and draws his sword. Yelling for his shieldbearer Nick, and his bodyguards, he moves forward to the corner while men rush into the room with weapons drawn.

The figure continues. "Please, do not force my hand, nor underestimate me. I wish only to talk, and I had to be sure that the situation was firmly in my own hands before I moved, to avoid having myself so quickly killed. I understand your dislike of...my profession, but let us put that to the side for the moment, please, and talk to me as if I were human."

Makedonios just stands there sword at the ready. The room is filled with people now. Nick, the large hulking Greek, stands next to his lord with a small axe in his hand. Makedonios turns to one of his guards and says, "get the militia regiment to turn out and surround this building."

As the man runs out, he turns back to the figure in the chair. "You are not in a position to make threats. There are over a dozen men in this room and in the hallway. If I sound the alarm, the other Order members will turn out with their own retinue and bodyguards. In a matter of minutes, the regiment that guards this city will form up and will surround this building with over a hundred men. So, unless you have an army marching this way, you will find that your position is quite precarious. If you want me to listen, your going to have to try a different track than threatening someone who has far greater power than you."

The voice takes on a more apologetic tone. "I am sorry if you took my words as threat Grandmaster, they were never intended that way. May I start with a question with your permission?" The cloaked figure stares at the drawn weapons for a moment. "And may I ask that the weapons be lowered...I am unarmed, and will indeed do what you ask to prove my claim."

The Grandmaster stands there and evaluates the situation. Finally he nods. "Alright, the men will leave the room but will be right outside the door." Makedonios gives an order and the men file out. Makedonios sheaths his own sword but doesn't sit. He just stands there with his arms folded and waits for the woman to speak again.

The figure seems to breathe for easily now. "Thank you." After a pause, she continues. "What do you know of the Organization?"

Makedonios's brow furrows as he tries to recall if he had ever heard anything about the group. "No, never heard of them."

"I am a member of the Organization, and it also another part of that Organization I am here to discuss. Sometime ago, one of our own operatives went rogue. His name is Symeon, and he is a serious threat to the well being of the Empire, as well as a threat to the security of the Imperial family and the Order of St. John. I came to warn you of him, and to let you know I have been assigned to you as personal liaison to the Organization, if you so desire."

A grim smile crosses Makedonios's lips. "What are you? A den of thieves? If there is a threat to the Imperial family, then it seems more appropriate to bring this up to the Emperor. I must say I am amused by the idea of a rogue going rogue. I apologize, but when you get to my position, you get all sorts of people coming to you claiming to represent one group of people or another."

The smile fades. "Before I decide this has all been a complete waste of my time, how about you tell me a little more about this 'Organization' and why I would need a liason."

The woman's voice takes a hurt note. "Please...we are not thieves, nor are we rogues, we serve the Empire loyal, just as you...and we cannot approach the Emperor with this, he would never take us seriously. We come to you...forgive me...we come to you because of Iakovos. It has to do with Iakovos brother...Aleksandros, the current head of the Organization. He believes you would be more receptive to our offer, because of your relationship with Iakovos. We do not speak to Iakovos though, since Aleksandros does not even want his brother to know he is alive, and Iakovos wields little power."

The woman waits, and one could almost feel her anxiety.

Makedonios's eyebrow raises at the mention of Iakovos. "Iakovos certainly has a... colorful family. You do realize that if you had sent Iakovos to me, instead of trying cloak and dagger tactics, I would have been more receptive. Plus, I have never heard of Alexsandros. I'm going to do my own digging. If I find some of what you say, then I would be open to more conversations in the future. But I warn you here and now, that if I find something I don't like, the results will be quite... dramatic for those in your 'Organization.'"

The woman sighs, somewhat relieved.

"We would have, but Aleksandros feared detection. Is there another time and place we may meet, without the cloak and dagger? You may impose whatever terms you like, we are willing to accommodate to bring Symeon to justice."

Makedonios, still with his arms folded, nodded. "Anywhere but here would suffice. The number of people that can simply appear in my bedroom with me knowing, without causing me to become annoyed, is very small. And you are not one of those people. I'll talk to a few people that I trust and see just what has been going on in this city while I've been stuck in bed. If I find anything out, I will contact you. I can either write a letter and send it to an address of your choosing, or I can do something cloak-and-dagger and leave my curtains drawn a certain way or something." With that last, he allowed himself a small smile at the joke.

The woman shrugged. "As I said, I would prefer that we meet openly. It is better then Aleksandros deciding to have me one of your servants again." She seems to chuckle at that. "Is there some place you frequent?"

"There is a market I frequent that serves the kind of tea I like. I try to happen by there every day when I'm in town. You'll find me there." His tone turned more serious. "But let Aleksandros know that if he causes trouble around here, even being Iakovos's brother won't save him. My patience for these kind of games is quite short."

The woman nods in agreement. "I understand, and will convey your message to him." She gets up to leave, but stops for a moment. "And, please, do not tell Iakovos his brother lives...it may create unnecessary complications."

His face takes on hard features. "That depends on what my investigation finds. If it's bad, I will have no choice but to have a conversation with Iakovos. Aleksandros would do well to keep that in mind. If he knows I am going to find something I do not like, then it would behoove him to talk to Iakovos and come clean. I will try to be sensitive to family matters but I can not let that get in the way of a possible threat to the royal family or the Order."

The woman bows to Makedonios. "Till we meet again M'lord. It was a pleasure meeting you."

A few weeks later:

Makedonios sits in Antioch at his favorite market sipping mint tea.

A woman of with dark, short hair and a mild complexion sits down next to the Senator. She wears a veil to obscure her face, and is dressed as a noble woman, but it is obviously her, for she carries the same voice as before.

"You wish to speak to me M'lord?"

Makedonios sits and sips his tea. Finally, he addresses his guest.

"I wish you to know we are surrounded by my men at this moment. See the bum, wandering down the alley? He is one of my men. The man serving trinkets in the next stall? One of my men. The group of travelars walking up this aisle? All my men. The man at the table to my left? One of my men."

Taking another sip, Makedonios calmly continues.

"Now that we have established that you are quite trapped, I have a question for you. Your honest answer will ensure that you get out of this alive. Why was the Princess's daughter threatened by someone in the 'Organization'?"

The woman seems taken aback. "I believe you speak of the recently deceased Ignatios Angelus, a prominent arsonist and assassin? He was a good man, and it is sad he passed away, and I honestly don't see why he would make such a threat, especially against a child...that would be most unusual of him."

Makedonios's eyebrow rose. "Well, I got this information from someone I trust. Apparently, this man threatened the royal family. I have a hard time believing all of this is the actions of some rogue agent. The Princess herself had her apartment broken into when she was staying here. And my Marshall tells me that she was assaulted in an alleyway here."

He took another sip and then stared at her with hard eyes. "I want to know why the Princess has been attracting such attention. And I want to know right now. I consider her a close and dear friend of mine. She suspects that your whole 'organization' is out to get her. If this is true, I will tell you here and now that I will overturn this whole city to root your group out. Do not test me on this."

The woman nodded. "Initially, Symeon made use of our own agents in his plotting. But now he acts alone, or with others we are unaware of. Symeon has some vendetta against the Komnenos family, and now he is trying to put that into action, all the while shifting the blame to us, his only real rivals."

The woman pauses a moment before continuing. "As to the Princesses assault here, I do not know what you speak of. Is the person that assaulted her taken care of? Do you wish for us to take care of it?"

Another tea sip. "As far as I know, it is taken care of. But it disturbs me that the Princess has been bothered so much while visiting here. And you have failed to convince me of your organization's innocence. I fear your group is playing a very dangerous game..."

The woman's voice takes on a more serious tone. "Do you wish for us to insure her safety? We would gladly accept such an offer if it would ease your mind. I would offer myself as...collateral, if you so desire. I assure you, the Organization is much in the mood to prove it's innocence, yet at the same time, we must not compromise ourselves. It is a difficult task..."

Makedonios allowed himself a small chuckle. "No, I seriously doubt that the Princess would take well to your group 'protecting' her. In fact, you would do well to stay away from her. If you truly wish to help us, then give us the information we need to catch the person who is after her."

Yet another sip of tea. "Keep in mind that I seriously doubt as to the innocence of your group. Even if you are in fact innocent of this specific crime, then your likely guilty of many others. Your group's very existence seems to be a threat to the Empire since it trains and supports men to go and cause trouble. If you want redemption, you better produce results. Your group made this mess. I expect you to clean it up."

The woman nodded her head. "Then it is done. The Princess will no longer be bothered by anyone from the Organization. If you want information on Symeon though, I ask for your cooperation with me."

It is Makedonios's turn to nod. "Then it is settled. I warn you though, I have very little patience for your group. I want results. And I want them soon. Or I will turn this whole city upside down and bring your whole group before Kalameteros in chains."

The woman smiles at Makedonios. "Then I shall stay with you, and be on hand at all times, to aide you in anyway you desire, and act as collateral. In return, I ask you do not reveal my identity. Is this acceptable?"

Makedonios shakes his head no. "Sorry, I have no need of a keeper. We'll keep meeting like this. Good day m'lady." Makedonios gets up to leave.

The woman gets up as well. "Then I will report to Aleksandros of our agreement. You will know if he accepts or not. Good day M'lord."

TheFlax

07-16-2008, 23:19

((Coop story written with Andres))

Outskirts of Belgrade, 1100

The afternoon was well under way when a carriage flanked by a handful of heavily armed guards made its way slowly through the military camp of Savvas ek Militou. The small group progressed directly to the central tent of the commander, halting only a few feet away from it.

Savvas moaned. He tried to get out of bed, but as soon as he had lifted his head, it seemed like his tent was turning round and round. He reached for the bucket that was always near him, early in the morning.

After emptying his stomach, he started to laugh hysterically at the memory of Kristophoros, his loyal bodyguard, who fell in a pool of mud last night, while he was trying to kneel for one of the prostitutes that are always travelling with a marching army.

Somebody entered his tent.

"General!"

"Oh come on, can't a man have a few moments of rest, please?", Savvas murmured.

"General!", Aleksios, Kristophoros younger brother, entered Savvas' tent. "We have a visitor! You should get up now."

"Who's there? Peasant number 154 worrying about the three sheeps we took from his farm? Screw him. He still has 100 sheeps left."

"Eh no sir, it's the Basileus' daughter."

"What? Anna is here?"

Savvas stumbled out of his bed. "Don't stand there like that, you idiot. Go out and tell her that the General is leading a patrol, scouting the hostile area. Then you politely offer her to set up her tent next to mine. Ask her if there's anything she needs and tell her the General will be with her soon, after he ends his patrol. Once she's inside and resting, give me a sign. That should give me more then enough time to dress up and make myself presentable. Oh, and send me Larna, the older prostitute, and tell her to bring make-up."

"You should ask the Emperor for a name change, General. Savvas the Cunning would suit you much better."

Aleksios left the tent and walked towards the princess and her guards...

Some time passed as Anna waited patiently in the newly erected tent, wondering why a general would lead a routine patrol. Perhaps he was one of those men who chose to live the same hardships as their soldiers? It mattered little to her, with the help of a few choice scrolls she could wait indefinitely.

Digging through her chest, she found a text which suited her fancy. She took this opportunity to remove her veil and store it in the chest. Text in hand, she propped herself on a few plush cushions and began dissecting the public address she had chosen.

Meanwhile, in Savvas' tent, Larna arrived. She was carrying a large wooden box.

"Larna, darling, thanks for coming." Savvas whispered, "I'm afraid that today I'll need some of your other...", Savvas grinned, "talents."

"Savvas darling, I noticed you have an highly esteemed guest. I can make that tired look on your face disappear in no time and that awful smell can be easily replaced by something more adorable, but of course, my other... talents also come with a price."

"Oh, come on darling, please, this is no time for haggling!"

Larna took her wooden box and started to walk away...

"No, no, please stay Larna! In return for this favor, I will recommend your services to my bodyguards."

"As if I need any recommendations," Larna said, an insulted look on her pretty face.

"Oh damn it, take this silver goblet all right."

"Sit down, little darling of me, I'll make you look as handsome as you were at the age of 25 and smell like a rose."

Larna started to work on Savvas. After she put her instruments back in the box, she started to undress, a naughty expression on her pretty face.

"No no, not now," Savvas said. "Maybe later..."

"As you wish darling", Larna said, with a smile.

"Ehm, please, put your dress back on before you leave my tent, darling."

Larna giggled.

Savvas put on his armor and his black cloak and sneaked out of his tent, towards the tent of Aleksios and Kristophoros.

"Come with me, Kristophoros, we need to sneak to our horses, ride them a few hundred meters and then come back. Aleksios, when you see us coming, yell as loud as you can and ask me if we encountered rebels on our patrol. Then you tell me that the princess has arrived."

In the very late afternoon, two manly horse riders entered the camp.

Savvas, stopped at his tent, staring with a surprised look on his face at the magnificent tent that had risen next to his.

"Sir! Did you encounter any enemies during your long patrol?"

"We encountered three bandits. Those bastards attacked us from behind" Savvas said, while he was wiping of some dust and looking ostentatiously at what looked like some blood on his armor.

Aleksios was a bit puzzled about how Savvas managed to get blood on his armor, but he continued the charade.

"Now Sir, how did they fare against you and Kristophoros?"

"Nobody needs to worry about them scumbags anymore," Savvas said with a loud voice. "Tell me, Aleksios, do we have a visitor?"

"Oh, where are my manners, General! Her Royal Highness, Anna K..."

"What?" Savvas said, apparently sincerely surprised, "The princess is here? Why didn't you say so before?"

Savvas walked towards Anna's tent.

Hearing some commotion outside her tent, she rose and left her text on the cushions. She took this opportunity to smooth out the ruffles in her light green robe with gold filigree. As Savvas entered the tent, she gave him a polite smile.

"It is good to finally meet you in person. You look well." Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed the blood on his armor. "I trust you did not encounter too many troubles in this patrol of yours?"

Savvas bowed for his princess.

"Just a couple of bandits, mylady. The blood is theirs, not mine. Please don't worry about my well being and please, accept my sincerest apologies for any inconvenience my absence during your arrival may have caused. I hope my men have treated you well?"

Anna nodded. "As well as can be expected. Come, sit." She indicated some cushions. "We have much to discuss."

"Indeed we have, mylady." Savvas sat down, seemingly accidentally close to Anna, but not too close to be inappropriate. "In one of your latest letters you spoke about an alliance? Please tell me, your highness, what services would you want me to offer you in return for your valuable friendship?"

She shifted slightly in the cushions, as to get into a more comfortable position. "As you well know, I have no voice in the Magnaura and yet, I hold certain matters close to my heart. You can help me make these matters come to pass."

Anna's maneuvering in the cushions amused Savvas.

"Is mylady feeling well?" he asked, with a gentle smile on his face. "Maybe your highness is getting a bit hungry? After all, it's already the ninth hour. This reminds me, one of my men shot a deer a couple of days ago. The flesh should be just about perfect for consumption right now and I have with me these excellent spices. I would be very honored if mylady would join me for diner, later this evening. We can go outside, out of these hot and uncomfortable tents and have a pick nick on the nearby hilltop, where we have a splendid view over the valley. Sunset is extraordinary beautiful around here."

Savvas clapped his hands and Aleksios, who had been waiting outside, entered the tent.

"My dear Aleksios, can you please bring us two goblets of wine?"

"Of course, general."

"We might as well start with the aperitif, don't we?" Savvas said, a friendly and warm expression on his face. "Please tell me, what are these matters you just mentioned?"

She chuckled lightly. "All in due time Savvas, the next Magnaura session is still sometime away. As for that aperitif, water will do fine for me."

Savvas nodded in agreement.

"Very well mylady. I will be happy to act as your spokesman in the Magnaura, if such is your desire."

Aleksios entered the tent with two goblets of wine, two empty goblets and a carafe of water.

"Thank you, dear Aleksios. Can you please prepare everything for a picnic on the hilltop. Tell our cook to prepare some of the meat from the deer your brother shot a few days ago."

Aleksios discretely left the tent. Savvas poured water into the two empty goblets and offered one to Anna.

Anna took the offered goblet and took a sip from it. "So, you are still heading from Belgrade? Even after Methodios' victory?"

"The Megas Logothetes, who has a better view on the current situation, asked me to continue my march to the north. The Empire is still facing many dangers. We almost faced a complete disaster because of the lack of sufficient military presence in the north. Methodios did very well and he truly deserves his nickname. Once I reach the area, I will probably be responsable for the defense of the Belgrade region. I hear your brother is marching to Sinop. Do you have any news of him?"

It took all of her restraint not to grimace at the mentioning of her brother. "I haven't heard of him for quite some time. He feels he does not need me and for some reason unknown to me, despises me."

Musing out loud, she took another sip. "I wonder how my father deals with him..." Anna refocused herself on Savvas. "Anyhow, there are far more interesting topics than my brother. I wonder about Methodios, do you not think his acts of glory-seeking will avail to nothing more than placing at risk all we have worked for? It is a selfish and dangerous gamble he is playing."

Savvas took a sip from his goblet of wine. "Mylady, I insist, you should try out this wine. It's outstanding! Just take a little sip, only to taste it and to give me your opinion."

Savvas took the other goblet of wine and placed it next to Anna's goblet of water, while continuing to talk: "It saddens me to hear that your relationship with your brother is problematic at the moment. If there's anything I can do to intermediate, discretely of course, feel free to ask."

Savvas leaned back and looked at Anna's eyes. "As for Methodios..." Savvas shrugged. "He is a hero, or at least, that's how the people perceive him. The common people look up to him. We need people like Methodios to keep the peasants, our tax payers, happy. Yes, he is selfish and his gambling is indeed dangerous. I would prefer Methodios to be more... careful. But he has a strong argument to defend his reckless actions: they have all been successful thus far."

Savvas reached for his goblet of water. Before taking a sip, he looked at Anna.

"I take it you're not very enthusiastic about his recent adoption into the Royal Family?"

Annoyance played on her features. "Everyone has their part to play for the Empire to function efficiently, those who go against the state of things always end up harming the whole to serve their own selfish aims. I do not appreciate such people."

"I understand. But dangerous as he may be, Methodios isn't a powerful man. At the moment, he doesn't even have a territory of his own. I am more concerned about the Order and their religious fanaticism. They also don't seem to understand the real threat, which lies in the West. Do they really think that the Catholic crusaders will fly to Jerusalem? Well, they won't. Soon we will see more then one crusader army in our Empire and those will be much more of a threat then some rebel armies. Our Empire simply can't deal with the muslims, and especially those damnable Turks, and a combined West."

Anna took a sip of the wine this time and smiled. "While these so called "Crusades" are a serious threat for us, since they have become inevitable, we must find a way to turn them to our advantage instead of simply bemoaning their presence. As you said, they will not "fly to Jerusalem"." She paused for an instant. "I think you are not very fair in your assessment of the Order. While their holy mission lies in the East, they have done nothing but bring wealth to the Empire and have not marginalized the need for defenses on the West. From what I understand, it is not them who pushed for a war with the Turks, but another noble household.

She handed back the cup of wine to Savvas. "I concur, it is a fine wine you have here."

Savvas took Anna's cup and put it on the small table.

"Maybe you're right about the Order, but...", Savvas stared at a distant point for a brief moment and said very silently, almost whispering. "I simply don't like those fanatic religious nutjobs." A sad expression came on his face, immediately followed by an angry look. He shivered and his facial expression went back to the usual warm and friendly. "But that's a completely different story and not relevant to our current conversation."

Aleksios entered the tent and bowed.

"General, mylady, diner is ready."

"Ah, thank you Aleksios." Savvas turned back to Anna, stood up, bowed and offered Anna his arm.

"Can I escort mylady to the diner table?", he gently asked.

Anna indicated for him to wait an instant.

"I cannot leave the tent like this."

Turning to her chest, she rummaged through it for a few moments before pulling out a headscarf which complemented her robe. After securing it tightly around her head, she took Savvas' offered arm.

"You can take me there now, I am famished."

While he was escorting her to the diner table, Savvas wondered how Anna would be able to eat with such a garment on her head.

"Lovely weather, isn't it? Do your duties allow you to spend much time outside, mylady?"

Anna shook her head lightly, regret etched across her face. "Not as much as I would want to, I have a complexion to maintain."

"Don't worry about that today. The sun will go under within an hour or so."

Savvas and Anna arrived at the hilltop. The table was richly dressed, plenty of delicious smelling deer meat was already served, cooled wine, water, grapejuice, cheese, bread, ... Candles were put on the table and six torches were put around it. A warm fire was still burning not too far away from the table and it seemed like nobody was in the vicinity of the table.

Savvas walked to one of the chairs. While offering the chair to the princess, he gently said "Please, have a seat mylady. What can I offer you: water, wine or juice?"

She smiled at the whole dinner arrangement. "Water will be fine Savvas."

"Water it will be then," Savvas said, and poured water in Anna's glass.

"Just pick what you like. Bon appétit, as the French say."

Savvas filled his plate with meat, cheese and bread. Surprisingly, he didn't touch the wine, but took grape juice instead.

Anna frowned at the strange words, before washing down her annoyance with a drink of water. She took a small portion of meat and cheese at which she nibbled absently.

"Have you traveled much outside of the boundaries of the Empire?"

"I've seen my share of the world when I was still young. My father, who was of noble birth, but member of one the lesser houses, was also a merchant. We needed the additional revenues from trade." Savvas shrugged, as to apologize himself.

"My dear father traveled a lot and he occasionally took me with him. I've been in Toulouse, in Paris, in Novgorod and in Jerusalem. French is very much like Latin, which is why I easily picked up a few words here and there."

Savvas drank a bit from his grape juice and continued.

"But I am sure mylady has seen her share of the world as well. Compared to our Empire and even the muslims, the west seems so, uncivilized, I'd almost say barbaric."

Savvas reaches for some more deer meat

Anna's features once more curled up into a dismissive frown. "Latin? French? Why waste time learning the languages of barbarians? I, myself, learned Magyar in the Kingdom of Hungary. It is a crude tongue, lacking the civilized intricacies and nuance of our great Greek language."

Savvas shrugged.

"Of course our own language is a very beautiful one, but it doesn't hurt to know something about the ways of foreigners nor to understand their language, does it?"

She shrugged. "Maybe so, but that is work best left to envoys and interpreters."

"I see. By the way mylady, have I already show you how exactly I took Arta a few years ago?" Savvas asked, pointing at his horse that was standing next to a tree about ten meters further.

Anna finished chewing a small piece of meat and then took a sip of water. "No, you have not."

"Well then, here we go," Savvas said and he stood up, walking to his horse.

"My esteemed audience, I hereby present to you: 'The Assault on Arta', featuring your favorite actor Savvas ek Militou as himself, his Lord Aleksios, his men, the enemy and the narrator."

Savvas bowed.

Anna smiled and give him a mock applause, joining in his jest.

Savvas climbed on his horse and immediately fell back on the grass. He got up and climbed back on the horse, only to fall back again.

"Ahem," Savvas said, looking around him.

He climbed on the horse for the third time and pretended to fall asleep. After a few moments, he started to snore extremely loud.

As he pretended falling asleep, Anna gave out a soft laughter.

Savvas shook his head and slapped himself in the face.

He turned and looked at some distant point behind him.

"Don't worry mylord, after winning a drinking contest against you, these rebels shouldn't be much of a problem."

Savvas jumped of his horse, took of his helmet, walked a bit further and looked at the horse.

With a worried expression on his face, Savvas said, with a slightly different voice : "Oh no, what have I done? Why did I give Savvas the command of this army?"

Savvas ran back to his horse, putting on his helmet again: "Why Lord, you lost the contest and you said the winner would command the army!"

Savvas put of the helmet again and walked to the supposed position of Aleksios. "I did? I don't seem to remember that? Oh well, I'll take your word for it."

Savvas put on his helmet again and jumped on his horse.

"You won't regret this, mylord." he said, over-acting.

Savvas jumped of the horse, using it's tail as some sort of fake beard and he imitated a cripple old man.

"And then," the "old man" coughed... "Sorry, my audience, I'm a man of old age and apparently they still didn't find a new guy to do this job... So, and then, Savvas divided his forces into two groups: one attacked the south gate, another, smaller group, under his command attacked the eastern gate."

Savvas took a log of wood and moved it forwards and backwards, imitating a battering ram, meanwhile screaming "Bam! Kadang! Kaboom! Oh, this is heavy and that lazy drunkard of a general is just sitting there on his horse, trying not to fall asleep!" Savvas shook his head and then continued "Kabang, boom, boink!"

Anna joined in the theatrics, showing exaggerated excitement and wonder. Her laughter slowly increased with each new act.

Savvas dropped his cloak, turned his helmet ninety degrees and jumped on a nearby rock, yelling with a high voice and a very strange, foreign sounding accent:

"Oh no! Ze Romans are at our zgates! Sally through ze South gate and for the East Gate, eh, just stand there and watch zhose spearmen battering our East Gate!"

Savvas jumped of the rock, and again used the tail of the horse to imitate the old man.

"And while the enemy attacked the large group of Aleksios, Savvas' men broke through the East gate."

Savvas put on his cloak again and took the log.

"Crash! Yes, we are through the gate!"

Savvas jumped on his horse and yelled: "Advance! Attack!"

He jumped on his feet and made galloping sounds "Kadang, kadang, kadang!"

Using the tail of the horse, the old man said to the audience: "Of course, we can only imitate the charge charge, because, if the esteemed actor would charge his horse for real, it would become difficult for the audience to keep following the play."

All of the sudden, the horse dropped what horses sometimes tend to drop and Savvas managed to jump out of the way of the droppings just in time. Acting as if nothing happened he again imitated the old man, this time without using the horse's tail, saying : "It seems like one of the actors is improvising..."

This time, consternation was etched on her features, yet it was hard to say if this was an act or true surprise at what had happened.

Savvas took back the role of himself and pretended to look at the "old man": "In fact, that also happened at the siege of Arta, not that I expected my horse to remember that."

Savvas dropped his cloack and gave his helmet a turn and started to talk with the funny accent again.

"Oh no, ze Romans are through the East Gate! We are doomed! Doomed!"

Savvas put his helmet back to normal and put his cloak back on.

"Indeed you are, rebel scum!"

He unsheeted his sword and started to swing it at invisible enemies.

"Haha! I decapacitated their leader! Victory will be ours!"

Anna applauded softly once more and smiled.

"Verily, Savvas, you might have missed your calling." It was obviously a jest.

Savvas bowed for the princess, shouting: "Thank you! Thank you! You were a fantastic audience! Thank you! I love you too! Thank you! Oh please, stop throwing flowers and applauding, it's becoming embarassing, thank you very much!"

Savvas made a final bow and grinned at the princess.

"Now mylady, shall I show you how I kidnapped the Russian princess, Victoria Annanova, on a hot yet beautiful evening in Novgorod when I was still a young man aged sixteen or do you prefer to enjoy the sunset while sitting by my side?"

Anna emptied her cup of water. "I think there has been enough storytelling for the day. I will tarry a bit longer for the sunset Savvas, yet I must soon retire. I will have to leave at the first hour in the morrow."

"But of course mylady. Surely you have to be tired after your journey to my camp."

Savvas sat next to Anna and looks at the magnificent sunset.

"Ah, one of the advantages of being in the field, outside city walls. Did you ever take the time to enjoy sunset or sunrise during one of your travels, mylady?"

Savvas took some grapes from the table and offered some to Anna.

She picked a grape and absently rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. "Certain preoccupations often prevent me from such indulgences."

"But not tonight, mylady. I feel that we still have much to discuss, but maybe that should wait until later. Allow me to offer you this moment of rest and peace in a magnificent setting as a small gift in return for your friendship."

Finally, Anna ate the grape and reclined her head to watch the sky. The silence appeared to soothe her, as if some burden had been removed for now. A thin smile of appreciation crept on her face.

As the sunset was over, Savvas silently stood up and offered Anna his arm.

"Mylady, can I escort you back to your tent?" he whispered, as he was afraid to disturb the princess' rare moment of peace.

She simply nodded as she rose and took his arm.

When they arrived at Anna's tent, Savvas talked softy to her.

"Mylady, I understand that you have been promised to another man. Whoever he is, I sincerely hope that your marriage will be a happy one,... or at least bearable", he added, an empathic look on his face. "I would never want to dishonor you, so I can only offer you my friendship. Whenever your family is in need of help or whenever your highness would need a moment of peace and silence in her busy life, just find me."

Savvas took Anna's hand and gently kissed it, in the process discretely letting a small parchment drop into her sleeve.

This elicited a warm smile from Anna. "That is very kind of you Savvas, yourself should never hesitate to contact me, for any reason at all. The was a very pleasant evening." With those word she retreated into her tent and once away from prying eyes, examined the parchment.

flyd

07-17-2008, 00:41

Thessalonike, 1110

"What does illegitimate mean?" asked the little boy.

"Huh? Um," stumbled Markianos Ampelas, "it's, uh, well, eh... something that is... not legitimate. So, it's... something that's not officially recognized... by law." He paused to look at a boy with an unsatisfied curiosity. "Run along and play then."

So the boy did run off, and Markianos slumped in his seat.

"At least he didn't ask what a bastard was," he said to himself.

He laughed. It was funny. Sort of. It was funny in that way where it's not funny at all, where it's, in fact, so far in the opposite direction from funny that the only thing you can do is to laugh that half-insane, half-dejected laugh.

He sat on a bench outside of a building in the moderately poor, but not so poor to be dangerous, part of Thessalonike. It was daylight, and children were playing in the street. At this time, the half-insane bit had increased to somewhat past two-thirds, so he decided to get philosophical.

"The problem with politics," he said, probably to a bum who sat on the ground near him, although equally probably just to himself, or maybe even to some other himself, as that two-thirds-insane bit may well have been closer to three-quarters by now.

"The problem with politics," he said again, maybe just to emphasize the point, or maybe because the narrator had gotten off on a tangent last time, and there would have been too much crap between two parts of a split statement. He didn't like the new narrator, and wondered whatever happened to the old one.

"The problem with politics," he said, (and that's all he did), "is that you are supposed to be a moral, upstanding, and noble citizen, and that you must associate yourself with likewise people."

"The second problem with politics is that nobody is and does."

"The third problem with politics is political opponents."

"The problem with the third problem is that it would use the combination of the first and second problems against you."

"The solution to the problem with the third problem is to keep your second problem secret."

"The problem with the solution to the problem with the third problem is..." he paused, "well, there is a great multitude of problems with it." He sighed.

After a short and (insanely) thoughtful pause, he continued.

"Really, the chief problem is that all the interesting people are in the lower classes. And that they murder, steal, and do all sorts of other 'improper' things. Or they used to, but the third problem wouldn't much care for the distinction."

"And the problem with religion is that priests don't like secrets."

"And that," he said with a grin, satisfied at his logical deduction process, "is how bastards are born."

He sat in silence for a moment while the three-quarters-insane bit reduced to about one-third, while the one-quarter-dejected one increased to fill the gap. He stood and tossed a coin to the bum.

"There you go. Get some lunch and enjoy it, you lucky sod. I have a Senate session to get to."

He walked into the building and walked out after about a quarter of an hour, and walked off toward the fancy part of town, leaving a rather lovely young lady in tears at the door.

deguerra

07-17-2008, 09:46

(with theFlax. Duh)

Iconium, 1110

Ioannis Kalameteros stood at the flap of his tent, peering out at the darkness. The fires of the besieging army lit the night and filled the air with an eerie glow. Again a siege. And again he could not sleep. He sighed. He hated campaigns.

Slowly, unwillingly, he retreated to his bed. The slim shape of Anna stirred beside him as he lay back, eyes wide open, and contemplated the tent’s ceiling. He was too tired to think.

A flash. Ioannis is in the garden again. This time, the smells and colours seem faded. But the memories are all the more vivid. Young Aleksandra and her friend are playing in the grass again. His father approaches, talking to another man. He is dressed plainly. His face is sinewy but old. His eyes look thoughtful as he listens to the other man, happy as he observes his daughter. Ioannis’ dagger hangs at his side.

Odo. A man from the north. A childhood friend of his father’s and his closest advisor. They have much to be happy about this day. This day Basileos Diogenes was raised to the throne. Odo has told Ioannis this means much to his father, to his family. Odo knows these things.

A flash. Odo sitting in a chair, his head in his hands. On a nearby stretcher Ioannis’ father thrashes and moans. His bandages are drenched in blood, his speech incomprehensible. Basileos Diogenes is dead. Odo is muttering to himself. Ioannis doesn’t understand, but a name is repeated. Andronikos.

A flash. There is no sound. He looks down and sees his father at rest. No more thrashing. No more screams. He looks calm and peaceful. The plain dagger protruding from his chest gives off a metallic gleam in the beam of light from the window. His dagger. Odo’s dagger. Odo stands by the bedside, his hands drenched in blood. His father’s blood. He is talking rapidly, then yelling. Ioannis cannot hear a word.

He sees himself reach for the dagger, watches as he pulls it from his father’s unmoving body. In pain he lashes out at Odo. There is still no sound. The old man is quick, but Ioannis’ thrust catches him in the side. He falls to the ground.

Just then, Aleksandra rushes into view. She throws herself over her father protectively, her arms outstretched to keep Ioannis at bay. He can feel the pain rising, the pain and the fear. The room suddenly seems tiny, the air thick. There is still no sound.

Panicked, Ioannis runs. The house goes past him at a blur, as does the garden, as does the road beyond. Like a wild animal he runs, faster and faster. He trips over a stone on the pathway, fails to keep his balance, falls, screaming. There is still no sound.

In his tent, Ioannis wakes to the sound of screams. It takes a second of realization that they are his own. His body is drenched in sweat and shivering, his breathing rapid and panicked.

With a soft moan, Anna stirs to wakefulness. She wipes a lock of hair from her face before propping herself on her elbows and looking over to her husband, deep concern etched on her usually pleasant features. Her voice is little more than a soft whisper.

"Ioannis, is everything alright?"

Still breathing heavily, Ioannis tries to compose his thoughts. He replies in a hoarse voice.

"A dream. An old dream. I once told you the shadows of my past have all but consumed me. I hope you know that was not quite true."

He shrugged. "But they do catch up with me occasionally."

She gently passes the back of her hand on Ioannis' face, her voice remains soft yet contains traces of concern.

"You are completely drenched!"

She rise from the bed, motioning for him to remain there.

"I will get you some water."

Opening his mouth as if to protest, he thought better of it and lay back. It had been such a long time ago. He had been a boy, nothing more. More importantly it was the past, and it did one no good to bring out the past. He was Ioannis Kalameteros. That was the present. Focus on the present.

Moments later, Anna returns with a bucket of water she holds with both hands. She stumbles into the tent, cursing the uneven ground as some of the water spills on her nightgown. After closing the distance to the bed, she kneels besides her husband and pulls out a cup of water from the bucket which she then offers him.

"Refresh yourself and the tell me about this dream you just had."

Taking the cup, Ioannis gulps it down, nearly choking in the process. His immediate thirst quenched he leans back and looks down at Anna, sighs and gives a tiny smile.

"I don't suppose 'Just a bad dream' is going to cut it?"

In jest, Anna's expression turns stern and uncompromising. "Not unless you scream like a little child at every nightmare."

With care, she passes a damp piece of cloth on Ioannis' brow. "Come now, tell me what ails you so, I doubt we will be able to go back to sleep anyway."

Ioannis looks back defiantly.

"I did not scream like a little child. I was a very manly...scream."

He gives a brief smile and sighs. "My father died when I was still a boy. But...I remember nothing of that day, my memories of my entire life before that seem...fragmented, as if bits are missing, except for one moment. I am in my father's room, and he lies dead before me, his servant Odo's knife in his chest and the man standing at his side, drenched with blood.

Shaking his head, Ioannis continues. "Then things get hazy again. I ran. I was scared, scared for my life. My father was murdered and I was scared that I would be next. But I remember nothing. My father was murdered and I do not remember why."

Anna finds herself at a loss for words, part of her expected Ioannis to dismiss her, yet now that he has revealed his plight, she cannot abandon him. Having finished cleaning his face with the cloth, she drops it to the floor. An awkward silence passes as she simply stares at him, still unsure if she should say what she truly thought.

"That must have been very painful Ioannis, perhaps part of you does not wish to remember that moment?"

Nodding, he sat up and touched her arm lightly. "Do not...anguish yourself over this. It is nothing. It is the past. This is now. You are now, Helena and Magnentios that is now. What's gone is unimportant."

She rises and sits on the bed, beside him. "Ioannis, this isn't something you can just brush away. It pains you, I sense it. Do not seek to shelter me in false comfort, I will give you what succor I can, I am here for you."

He looked at her somberly. "I know."

He paused, then continued in an equally serious tone.

"Do you know what else pains me? You, my dear, have cold feet. Icy one might call them, and that would still fail to accurately represent the sensation. And you couple it with a most alarming habit of warming said ice blocks by sucking the warmth from mine."

Grinning at her initially shocked expression, he let himself fall back onto the bad and stared at the ceiling.

Pulling her feet on her, she rolls over her husband and finally lies on her side of the bed. Nevertheless, she does not relent, her voice taking more playful tones.

"Dear husband, if you try to deviate the conversation once more, you will feel a different kind of pain my "cold feet" can deliver..."

Still staring at the ceiling, Ioannis winced but grinned.

"All right. What would you have me say? I am repressing a painful memory? Probably true. But it changes nothing of the here and now."

Anna's voice also turns more serious. "If you do not want it to trouble it anymore, you need to remember, part of you needs to remember this or you would not dream about it."

"You may well be right. But I have tried. If the memories are there, they have sealed themselves off quite formidably. And perhaps it is better that way."

She props herself on one elbow and locks her gaze with Ioannis' eyes, seeking the truth. "Do you truly believe that?"

Ioannis' eyes, usually so intent, shy away from her gaze.

"There are aspects of what I do remember that could do me some harm, even now, if put into the wrong hands. What if there is more? The less I remember the less I can give away."

"And the less you know of yourself." Anna quickly adds.

"Granted. But given how hazy my childhood is in my mind, I like to think I define myself more from those parts of my life I do remember."

She gives an exaggerated sigh. "Very well, back to sleep then?"

Ioannis turns towards his wife and smiles.

"Thank you. I am lucky to have you. Even if you have cold feet."

Anna returns the smiles. "You sure are." She turns away from him, settling to sleep. Some time drifts by in silence before she can be heard again in a slightly annoyed voice.

"I do not have cold feet."

Ibn-Khaldun

07-17-2008, 18:53

Cairo, 1110

Two men entered into a small chamber. Room had no windows and the few candles didn't show much light.

"He is here, My Lord" said one of them.

The other one, papers in his hands, looked around but did not see anyone. Once the guard left someone spoke from the darkest part of the room.

"So what did you found out?" the voice asked.

Although still not seeing anyone the man started his raport..

"This is all what we wound on this man so far..

Name: Efstathios Laskaris

Birth place: Estate of the Laskaris', near Constatinople

Son of Nicholas and Isabel Laskaris

He is considered quite intelligent. Also he seems to be a man of faith.

But the following things makes us worry..

In 1071 he lost his grandfather from fathers side in Manzikert and in the same year his grandfather from mothers side was killed near Bari by the Normans.
His father was killed in Alexandria in 1087. He was accused being a spy but there is no proofs that he really a spy.
And in 1090 his mother and younger brother was killed by the pirates who were supposedly on the Venetian pay-roll.

After those losses he have started to hate the surrounding nations. He could cause a headache to us.

The last news are that he joined the Crusade. Against what city it was called it is uncertain but I think he have joined the Western Christians in a Crusade to "liberate" Jerusalem.

This is all at the moment."

The man stops speaking.

"Go! That is all" the mysterious voice said.

After the man, most likely the head of the Egyptian spies, left from the room the mysterious man said quietly to him self..

"How long to I need to Hear that damned name. When will the last Laskaris be dead!?
I must use my power as a Chancellor of the Fatimid Caliphate so that Caliph would make every effort to kill him! I got rid of his father and now it is time to do so with the son."

Saying this he left the room through a secret door.

Ramses II CP

07-19-2008, 16:44

It was the dream again.

Vissarionas ek Lesvou was back on the fields southwest of Antioch. In his apartment in Constantinople Vissa screamed in his sleep, startling several people reasting in nearby rooms. It was a scream of utter hopelessness, of abandonment.

As before the dream ran through Vissa's sleep addled awakening, his casual pursuit of the fleeing garrison of Antioch with his Order mates, and their laggardly return to the tents of the Grandmaster to find him injured. Once again the sergeants of the Order made haste for the gates of the city, but this time before they could enter a cowled figure strode out and raised a hand to halt them.

Vissa was unaware of his brethern fading out of the dream, unaware of Rafi and his guardsmen vanishing from his thoughts. All that he could see was the gray robed figure slowly drawing back his... no, her hood. It was Aliya al-Badawiyya, concubine to the Caliph of Egypt, and for a period of many months Vissa's companion in wit and entertainment. And his lover.

In his sleep Vissa struggled against the import of the dream, tossing in his bed and muttering,

No. NO! I atoned. I am forgiven. Redeemed! Please, please, please...

In the dream Aliya raised her hand in a gesture clearly recognizable from many depictions of the Virgin Mary. Vissa felt a vague sort of guilt at the near blasphemy of it, but it was quickly overwhelmed by his spiraling dread. Then Aliya spoke, not in the dulcet tones of a court lady, but with the shattering voice of an angel,

For this... For Antioch... You are forgiven.

Her raised index finger swept around to point at the city, which took on a hazy, sun glare sort of look behind her. Then the high church tower of Antioch's abbey was replaced by a series of minarets as the walls of Cairo formed. Aliya spoke once more, still with the voice of an angel but now twisted into an implacable, cruel tone,

For this... For Cairo... You will burn!

So saying her face melted away into a blackened skull, and a drop of blood appeared on her extended index finger. The figure, no longer Aliya, took one menacing step towards Vissarionas before turning and drawing back it's hand as a person might to throw a stone. The creature made a gesture of hurling an object high into the air, and that tiny drop of blood, somehow still clearly visible, hurtled into the sky over the city of Cairo. As it reached the highest point of it's arc the figure vanished, and Vissa, his horse somehow no longer under him, turned to run afoot from the city.

He'd not gone three steps when the thunderous roar of a splash, greater than any wave he'd ever heard living by the sea at Lesvou, pulled him up short. Turning about he was terrified to see a tide of rich, red blood lapping over the very walls of the city of Cairo. There could be no further purpose in flight. Vissa sank to his knees, turned his face to the sky, and accepted his dream death as the red wave rolled over him.

...

In the morning he rose refreshed, and remembered nothing as he prepared to return to the Senate. Unaware of the dream that might have arisen out of guilt over his dealings in Cairo, where he traded slaves, took a woman, and sent men to gamble in his name all to fulfill the Patriarch's confusing, rudderless, but holy mission. Or might have been a genuine prophesy? Or just as easily might have merely been an aftertaste of the Polish sausage he'd bought from a street vendor on his way home last night?

:egypt:

TheFlax

07-22-2008, 00:03

((Coop with PrivateerKev))

Constantinople, 1110

A light breeze blew through the streets of Constantinople. There was a lull in activity in the Senate as the nobles voted. It gave Makedonios a chance to get away for a private meeting. Walking with him down the street was his shieldbearer, Nick. In a relatively good mood, because of who had invited him to a meeting, Makedonios decided to strike up a conversation with the normally quiet man.

"Where are you from anyways?"

A shrug. "Greece, m'lord."

"Is Nick short for something?"

Another shrug. "It is short for Nichopolaphous. My mother simply called me Nicky."

"Does anyone call you Nicky now?"

A small rare smile creeps on his face. "None have done it twice."

"Ah, point taken. Your not much for conversation are you?"

Yet another shrug and no answer. Such was typical with conversations with Nick. Both men arrived at the estate. The Order held the deeds to many such pieces of property. And this one had been quietly made of use to a very special guest. Nick stood out front and kept watch while Makedonios went inside.

He found Anna seated and waiting for him. Her colorful long sleeved tunica of light pastels was ruffled from apparent extended use and her dark hair, usually loose in the presence of Makedonios, was held tightly in a bun by several pins on the back of her head. The warm smile with which she greeted him did little to conceal the weariness in her expression and her voice.

"Makedonios! It has truly been a long time since I've had the pleasure of your company. Come, sit." She indicated a seat across from her.

Makedonios smiled warmly and sat down across from her. While he looked better than the last few times she saw him, he still was not completely over his illness. An omnipresent napkin lay at hand for those periodic coughs.

"Your Highness, as always, it has been entirely too long. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She avoided the question. "You look better, I am gladden to see you recovering from that horrible sickness. Tell me, how are the proceedings at the Magnaura going?"

"Thank you Your Highness. I am sure your prayers had something to do with it." After the pleasantries, Makedonios regarded her carefully. He had not spoken to her about politics in years and was unsure how much to tell her.

"Some things are going well. Some things are not going so well. There are various pieces of legislation that are important to me. Some have passed quite easily. Others are close to failing. But the big thing this session is the Megas election. I have made no effort to hide my opinions on the matter so you have undoubtedly heard of my thoughts concerning the Caesar."

Anna sighed in exasperation, making clear the source of her weariness. "Ah yes... My dear brother. He has a peculiar talent for alienating everyone, even those helping him. I can understand why you wouldn't want him as Megas and by all rights his victory should be unattainable..."

The Princess had never spoken ill of her brother to Makedonios before so he didn't know what to say. Of course, since his thoughts were already public knowledge, it wasn't as if he could possibly get in any more trouble for telling the Princess.

"Yes... It 'should' have been unattainable. Believe me, I tried to derail it. I offered your husband concessions so large they caused quite a stir from amongst my men. He very much wanted to make a deal but the Emperor twisted his arm rather hard and reminded him of the loyalty your husband owes for gaining your hand."

Anna nodded. "I know all about your proposal, Makedonios, but in the end, my father must be obeyed. As you say, that was the covenant in which my husband entered when he took me for his wife. My brother will need help, and yet he is either too arrogant or too paranoid to accept it."

Makedonios sighed. "Must your father be obeyed when he is wrong? Your brother is going to get good men killed. He won't support this Crusade. He can hardly run his own House and people think he's going to run the Empire for a term. He has an almost magical ability to alienate every single person he meets. The only reason he won this election is because the Emperor fears for his dynasty. And on this reason, the lives of at least six good nobles hang in balance. Three of them, my men." He shook his head in frustration.

"I understand your concern Makedonios, I truly do." Delicately Anna rubbed her left eye with her forefinger. "Yet, what would you have me do? I have tried reconciliation with my brother, I wish to help him, but he cares little for me."

His features softened a little. "Sorry Your Highness, I was only ranting. I appreciate that your willing to listen to it. As for what to do about the Caesar, he needs someone to make clear the dangers of 'eating alone'. It's an old saying. But basically, a good ruler makes sure his subjects are getting something out of the deal. This is something the Emperor very much understands."

"But the Caesar does not seem to understand this concept. He seems to believe that everything belongs to him and we should be happy to have any of it. The man once had the gall to order me to stop expanding. And not only that, but he twice ordered me to give up the only province the Order had at the time on the main land. His opposition to the Crusade is born out of this same trait of his. He can't stand the fact that it will go against his master plan for the Empire. To him, Anatolia is all that matters and the rest of the fronts need to wait until the whole thing is secure. He's even on record saying that very thing."

Makedonios pauses from his speaking to cough for a moment into his napkin. "But that is why I believe he needs to make sure he 'doesn't eat alone'. There is more than enough for everyone. If he was able to grasp that, and relax his urge to control every aspect of the Empire, then I think he might do ok after the Lord takes the Emperor."

Anna nodded once more. "I, and others, would grant him succor in assuring he can live up to the legacy of our father, but in every instance, those well meaning people are pushed away by his vitriolic personality."

She took a deep breath and gave another restless sigh. "Anyhow, all of this is moot while my father lives. In the mean time we must trust in the Basileus and do our duty." She paused before adding very quietly to herself "Or my duty at least."

Makedonios gave a small chuckle to take the edge off of his next comment. "Well we certainly have our work cut out for us."

His face turned more serious. "As for trusting the Emperor, it does bother me that this Magnaura session has essentially become a contest of wills between the two most powerful men in the Empire. The Emperor is not happy about the Patriarch's call for a Crusade so he backs his son to swing the balance back into his favor. The Patriarch doesn't like his will questioned on such a Holy Matter and backs a pro-Crusade candidate. Which only causes the Emperor to dig in and twist arms to make sure his candidate wins. Meanwhile the rest of us are very much caught in the middle."

"That we are." She shifted slightly in her seat, perhaps out of anxiety. "As for that Crusade, I gather from what you said that you will not be going yourself?"

Dissapointment can be heard in his voice. "No, I have responisbilities back in the Levant. Right after this session I will assault Adana to bring it into the fold. After that I will need to defend our southern borders from Fatamid raids when the war starts. They already have a scouting party outside Antioch. Plus, with so many people going, some need to stay behind. I have a feeling the whole Order would go if I would let them. The Crusade can only be successful if some stay behind to defend what we already have."

Makedonios lowers his head a little and sighs. "I do admit the pull to go forth on the Holy Mission is a strong one. But I'm not getting any younger. Plus I never really got over my sickness. It could be a disaster if it flared up while I was on Crusade."

Anna gave him an encouraging smile. "Take heart Makedonios, you are doing the right thing." She rose slowly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to end this discussion and return home, I fear my days of late are hectic at best."

He smiled in return. "The same can be said for you. You look like the Magnaura session has gotten to you as well. I'm sure everything will be ok. It was nice to see you again. I hope we can do this again sometime."

Cecil XIX

07-23-2008, 06:19

Syria, 1110 A.D

“A waste of my time,” Armatos ek Naksou thought to himself as he and his bodyguard continued the march from the coast to Antiokheia. “Even though it’s necessary, it’s so boring. Perhaps the Lord will find favor with me and the Caesar will get some roads constructed here before his term ends, and if I’m really lucky-“

Armatos’ thoughts were interrupted by the return of one of the scouts he had sent ahead. Armatos raised his hand, ordering his men to a halt as the man approached him.

“My lord, there’s trouble. A farmstead up the road is under attack by bandits.”

“Lead us there.” Armatos lowered his visor, and galloped after the scout at full speed, confident his men were behind him. As time wore on and they had still yet to arrive, Armatos feared the worst. But an altogether different sight greeted them when they at last arrived.

The farmstead had suffered only minor damage, and had instead been turned into a battlefield. There was a trail of bodies leading away, composed of many archers and spearmen with the occasional cavalry. Armatos noted with some surprise that the horsemen were exceptionally well armored, and were it not for the livery he would have assumed that it was Stavros who had fought off the bandits. But no, these men wore tabards of black and yellow, with a distinct motif of eagles. In the back of his mind Armatos felt like he should be embarrassed for not recognizing their colors, but as he was in the midst of pursuing the battle he thought little of it.

It did not take long for them to catch up. By now there was only one of the knights left, charging about a score of spearmen. Armatos watched as the man’s tough armor allowed him to breakthrough the spearwall, and was impressed at his efficiency as his swing killed several of them before retreating to line up for another charge.

Then, out of the corner of his eyes Armatos saw one of the archers struggle to his feet from amidst the corpses, having apparently suffered only minor injuries. He lifted his bow and took aim at the knight who was killing his comrades.

Armatos quickly ordered his guard to intercept the man, and the sudden sound of charging nobles coupled with the sight of the Empire’s colors caused the man to abandon all hope except for escaping with his life. As he fled, Armatos pulled up his men and wheeled around to make sure the knight was safe. He could see that he had scattered the last of the brigands, and was now standing of in the distance regarding him.

“Men, put away your weapons! Let us go and greet our guest.” Having marched within speaking distance, Armatos raised his visor. “I am Armatos ek Naksou, Marshall of the Knights of St. John and Prince of Antioch. I thank you for coming to the aid of my subjects. What is your name, good sir knight, so that I can remember?”

The Knight raised his visor, and from the close distance Armatos noticed that the eagle on the knight’s tabard was not black or yellow, but a red and white checkerboard. Finally the man spoke, in halting greek.

“I am Sigismund von Mahren!”

To be continued…

TheFlax

07-23-2008, 08:43

((Coop with YourLordAndConqueror))

Ancyra, 1110

"Leave me alone! I told you to stay away from me!" Juliana yelled at the men. She had it up to here with this. "Both of you, leave me alone! I will get the money, I'll have it by the end of the week."

The smaller of the two men stepped forward. "Sure Juli, we believe you, like the last dozen times you said you would. We don't like being played Juli...I think it's high time that we take what is ours."

Juliana suddenly realized what was going to happen and turned to run out into the street, but was tackled by the bigger of the men and pinned to the ground. Juliana screamed.

The ruckus forced a halt of the procession navigating the street, as what little passer byes there were, scattered in all direction. Anna opened the carriage's door and peered out, looking fruitlessly for the source of the commotion, until finally she addressed a guard.

"What is going here? Why have we stopped?"

The man snapped to attention. "Your Highness, just some local trouble, as soon as the street is clear, we'll be on out way."

When the man finished, Anna was already stepping out of the carriage. He tried to protest, but an upraised hand in his direction immediately silenced him. As she made her way into the alley, the guards fell in line and followed her in.

The sight which greeted her brought forth disgust and rage. Her imperious voice rang clearly above the screams of the girl pinned to the ground.

"Desist your actions and answer for your crimes!"

Her eyes glared them while the rest of her features remained impenetrable. A palla of a light purple covered her head and draped itself over her shoulders, covering most of the upper body. Extending from under it was a rich purple silk robe with gold filigree and embroidered motifs of light pastels in shades of yellows, oranges and greens.

The smaller of the two men looked up to Anna. His jaw dropped as he started to kick the other, bigger guy.

"Nothing your maj...majesty, we're just collecting a debt this one owes us. She tried to run and-"

Juliana yelled at the smaller one. "I don't owe you anything! I've paid it all the time!"

Anna motioned her men forward and as soon as she gave the signal they moved upon the two debt collectors.

"I care little for your excuses. If you have a legitimate claim you shall have take it up with the Imperial law. Now, yield!"

The little man waited just long enough for the big man to let go of Juliana before both stood as far back from Anna as possible, both fearing that if they ran they would sign their death warrant.

They were promptly surrounded by the armed men.

"Take them to the local magistrate." Anna's voice had returned to a more measured tone. She watched as a handful of her guards dragged away the offenders, before turning back toward the street from which she came.

Juliana quickly got back up and dusted herself before fixing her mangled tunica, then chased after Anna. "Your Majesty, your Majesty..."

Anna turned brusquely, annoyance crept on her features and yet her voice was measured, even soft. "What is it?"

Juliana stopped short and bowed deeply. "Thank you your Majesty, not many people I know of would have been so kind." Juliana seemed on the verge of asking something, the words caught in her mouth.

"Yo-your Majesty...I beg of thee most humbly...please, do not leave me here."

Anna's face remained impassive. "Very well, one of my guards will accompany you back to your home."

Juliana's eyes started to tear. "I...I have no home your Majesty...I ask humbly...I ask humbly that...may I accompany you as a servant..." Juliana's eyes filled with fear and hope, but also with great strength and resolve.

Pitying the pathetic girl, Anna nodded and spoke softly. "Hush now, get into the carriage and calm yourself."

Juliana's eyes lit up slightly, and she bowed again. "Thank you, your Majesty." Juliana quickly stepped into the carriage and tentatively sat down.

Anna followed her in and sat on the opposite side. No sooner she was seated, the carriage got under way once more. She studied thoughtfully her newest charge and finally broke the silence after few minutes.

"Tell me, what is your name?"

Juliana was startled by the sudden break in silence. She nervously brushed her dark brown hair out of her eyes, and tried to wipe a bit of the dirt from her face. "Juliana, your Majesty."

Mechanically, Anna pushed back her palla, revealing her dark hair. "Juliana, you look tired. Come, sit next to me." She indicated the empty space next to her.

Juliana tentatively stood up and then sat back down next to Anna. "Yes, I am a bit tired, your Majesty, I've...I've had a long day so far." She seemed a bit tense at being so close to Anna, and seemed to stop and start to say something.

Anna gave the girl a comforting smile and continued in a soothing voice. "Calm yourself now, you have nothing to fear from me. Rest yourself on my lap." Before Juliana could protest, Anna's forefinger found itself on the girl's lips. "Hush, you are no good to me tired."

Juliana nodded to Anna and gently rested her head on the woman's lap. A few moments passed before she spoke. "Your Majesty, may I be so bold as to ask why you are in Ancyra?"

Anna gently ran her fingers through the girl's matted hair. "It was a convenient stop. I am on my way to join my husband who is besieging Iconium."

Juliana sighed to herself. "I wish I had a man to look after me...I wouldn't have had to deal with those...those pigs of Markellinos'. I would have a home and children..."

"You have a home now, worry not, those men cannot reach you now." Anna's voice was but a delicate whisper. "Rest, there will be ample time to recount your tale later on."

Juliana closed her eyes and whispered "thank you" before dozing off.

_Tristan_

07-23-2008, 09:41

A face of the past
Constantinople, 1110

(Coop story with YourLordandConqueror)

Methodios had ridden back to Constantinople a few days ago to be present at the Magnaura. Right now, he was on his way to the Senate to attend the day session and hear the debate on the merits of the Crusade. As always when the Senate was in session, Constantinople was bustling, even more than usual… The crowds clogged the streets, forcing Methodios to make detours, bumping shoulders with passers-by.

As he crossed a corner from an avenue into a narrower street, a large man bumped into him. The man was dressed in a large dark cloak with the cowl pulled over his head. Mouthing a quick “your pardon”, the man quickly mingled into the crowds. Thinking of pick-pockets, Methodios quickly checked his belongings while trying to follow the man, going back the way he had come. Though he had only glimpsed the man’s face in the opening of the cowl, add it a few years and that face belonged on a ghost… However tall Methodios was, the sheer press of the crowds made it impossible for him to follow the man… Soon the cowled figure had disappeared from view. Turning back towards the Magnaura, Methodios' thoughts turned to these dark years when he had been fighting the Turks in Cilicia, to the last time he had the face of the man...

******

Cilician Armenia, 1071

Methodios and his men were arming themselves to answer the summons of Tarchaneiotes when he was approached by Gustave Echter and his two sons.

Just as tall as Methodios, though with a slightly broader build and a mane of light brown hair, Gustave was just as hale and hearty as Methodios himself, even if he was in his late forties. His son Erhart seemed almost a mirror image of the father, although he lacked Gustave's warmer personality, replaced with a much more calculating mind. It was the last of them though, Aleksander, who stood out most. He was thin of build, with straight black hair and deep, innocent eyes and sported an enjoyable, eager personality. “Taken from his mother”, Gustave would say.

Gustave and his sons had come all the way from Saxony to serve as mercenaries in the armies of Emperor Romanus, lured both by promises of gold and dreams of glory. His wife had remained in Greece with his youngest son, Jakob.

Methodios had taken a liking to the older man. The presence of Gustave reminded him of his own father. The feeling seemed to be reciprocated as Methodios was not much older than Erhart the oldest of his two sons. Aleksander, the younger son, had sometime trained with Methodios and had struck a strong friendship, much like two brothers. Aleksander seemed even more fond of Methodios than his own brother who was acting too much serious to his own taste.

“Are you going to war ?” Gustave asked, approaching, a mischievous smile upon his face. “Have you finally found some Turks ?”

This had been a private joke between Gustave and Methodios for many days now since they had parted from the main body of the army in search of the Turkish army that had eluded them. Both men had crossed and re-crossed the mountains of Cilicia, never finding a sign of a single Turkish soldier and had long decided to make fun of it.

“No… Though I would like to put my hands on one… I think I would greet him like a long-lost brother… We have been looking for him for so long” Methodios answered, sharing Gustave’ s smile.

“What’s the press then ? Why are you all geared up ?” piped the still somewhat childish voice of young Alexander.

“Tarchaneiotes summoned me and my men… Probably wants me to run some errand for him… I almost dared to question our mission yesterday… An ill-advised move, if you ask me…” Methodios answered with a smile for the young boy.

“That may be it, Methodios… Rumour is already spreading through the camp…” Gustave said, lowering his voice “And I know it is not you spreading it… Men have eyes and ears and most have already been on long campaigns… I myself begin to wonder if there is not something playing against us… I haven’t been paid yet and that is all that keeps me from going back to Constantinople, that and the promise of some battle…Anyway… Godspeed on your mission, Methodios… I would hate to lose a friend.”

“Don’t worry, Gustave… I won’t take any risks, not that Tarchaneiotes would send me on a dangerous mission considering how our last meeting went… I rather expected some sentry or kitchen duty…”

Gustave only nodded. “I almost wish it is such a worthy mission… Beware of the kitchen knife…” Gustave’ s laughter sounded, a sound to shake mountains. “Come on, boys… Let the men prepare…”

Still chuckling, Gustave waved to his sons to follow him and waved a goodbye to Methodios, walking through the camp towards his own tent.

It was a moment before Methodios noticed the presence of Aleksander, a look of expectation in his eyes.

“Can I come ?” Aleksander asked, eagerly and almost pleadingly.

“I don’t think your father would agree, Aleksander… If it depended on me only, I would take me with you but I fear of displeasing your father… He is a friend and trusts me… What would he think of me if I took his young boy on a dangerous mission ?”

“I’m not a young boy… I’m a grown man” Aleksander said, sulkily.

“Sure you are…” Methodios answered with a wink.

“Don’t mock me, Methodios… I can ride, I can shoot a bow and I handle my sword as well as any man…You know that… I’ve sparred against you…”

“True, Alex… Still you are only 14… One never knows what to expect in war and I would not be the one to bring your body to your father, I could never forgive myself…” Methodios answered, suddenly serious.

“Please, Methodios… Let me come with you…” Alex pleaded once again.

“Next time, I promise… But not today… I give you my word that I’ll ask your father’s permission for you to join me on my next mission… Are you happy ?”

Alex nodded vigorously, a wide happy grin on his face. “You promise ? Serious ?”

“On my honour, Alex…”

“Thanks, Methodios…”

“Now, away with you… Otherwise Erhart will come looking for you and you know what that means…”

“Yes…” Alex answered then realizing what Methodios meant about his brother “Oh… Yes… Goodbye Methodios” the boy said already running towards where his father and brother had gone.

Methodios remained considering the running boy until tents and passing men hid him from his view, wondering how he could plead his case with is father.

“What I have gotten myself into…” were his last thought before mounting his horse and guiding him towards the centre of the camp where Tarchaneiotes would give him his orders.

******

Later the same day…

Marching through the devastated camp of the Byzantine army, Methodios wondered what had happened to his good friend Gustave and his two sons. Though he feared he would find them among the dead, he hoped they had managed to get away, though knowing Gustave, he knew he would surely have fought to the last.

Everywhere he rested his gaze, he would see bodies of men pierced by arrows, slashed by swords or trampled by horses. Only few of them were dressed and armed in the Turkish fashion, most were wearing Byzantine dress and armour though many were only half dressed, having been attacked while still in their sleep. The soil was so drenched in blood that it had turned into some kind of reddish mud, clinging to Methodios’ boots, making squishing noises at every step. Vultures were circling in the sky, swooping down in droves to feed on the human carrion, courtesy of the Turks…

Methodios’ gaze was drawn to a mound of corpses some distance away. Approaching, he saw that most of the dead were Turks, horses and riders killed. “Some of us gave a good fight, it seems…” Methodios mused.

Hoping to find some of these warriors still alive, Methodios quickly walked to the mangled bodies. The mound was in fact a circle with bodies of Turk warriors piled on all sides. As Methodios saw who was at the center of the circle, tears began to flow down his cheeks. Gustave’s mail had been pierced by two arrows, one was stuck into his left leg but still it seems he had continued fighting as death had apparently been brought by a vicious axe slash that had split his mail-shirt in two. Erhart’s body was sprawled across his father’s body, his youthful face unrecognizable, his helm caved in by a powerful mace-blow. Around them were laying the bodies of the men from their regiment, though visibly, Methodios’ friends had been the last standing. Thinking of Aleksander, Methodios began the grisly task of overturning the bodies, quickly getting soaked in blood from head to toes, the stench of fresh spilled blood cloying his nose.

Seeing his frantic search, his men joined him and helped him in his search. Soon all the bodies in and around the circle had been overturned after Gustave and Ehrart’s bodies had been carried some distance away and covered with tarps made from trampled tents to protect them from the carrion eaters and the unforgiving sun. No sign of Aleksander were to be found.

Kneeling in the blood-soaked mud, Methodios gave a silent prayer. “God… Please take care of young Aleksander… If he’s alive, see that he manages to get home safely… If dead, please welcome him by your side, for he deserves it.”

Methodios and his men carried the corpse of Gustave and Erhart to a nearby hill overlooking the camp. There, they dug two shallow graves where they put the bodies wrapped in some scavenged standards of the defeated army, with their weapons by their sides. Rocks were then piled upon the graves and crosses made of broken lances planted at their head. Prayers were said before Methodios and his men marched back down to their horses, leaving their friends behind forever…

******

Back to the present…

Shaking his head to clear it of the ghosts of the past, Methodios resumed his way to the Magnaura. “Was it Aleksander I saw or just some look-alike ?” Methodios wondered. “Why did he avoid me if it was him ? I’ll have to find out…”

Finally reaching the Magnaura, Methodios went searching for Iakovos ek Kallipoleos, Sergeant of the Order of St John, who he knew to be the last of Gustave’s sons. Until now, he had shied away from the young man, unable to tell him he wasn’t there when his father and his brothers needed him. That added to the fact that for many years Methodios had been cast as the traitor that was partly responsible for the Manzikert debacle made him cringe from approaching the man. But the events of today sparked up his courage. He had to know if Aleksander was still alive.

Walking up to where Iakovos was speaking to some Senate officials, Methodios waited until he had finished before greeting him.

“Sergeant Iakovos, may I have a word with you, please ?”

Turning to face the man, Iakovos was clearly surprised. “Strator Tagaris… What a surprise… I didn’t know you were in Constantinople…”

“Yes, I arrived only a few days ago and I had private matters to attend to but I will join in the debate soon.”

“Not much has gone on yet, you haven't missed anything really. You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes…” Methodios lingered. “It is about your brother…”

“My brother? Both my brothers and my father died sometime ago...They were in Tarchaneiote’s army, just like you, I believe…Methodios, why do you bring this up?”

"Are you sure that Aleksander is dead, Iakovos ? Did you ever hear from him again ?"

Iakovos seemed a little shocked, with a dash of curiosity thrown in. "No...Never. Methodios, why do you even ask? How would my brother even have survived that ordeal...Please tell me you have not gone to the lengths my uncle has..Tthe rumor monger."

“No... Nothing of the sort..." Methodios seemed to be at a loss for words "It is just that I've just encountered a man that could have been Alex' perfect twin, had he grown to maturity... I know I must be wrong... I got only a glimpse of his face, still your brother's name was the first thing that came to my mind from that simple glance..” Methodios paused.” Hence my questions... Your brother was a fine boy and I liked him like a brother... So knowing he is still alive and well after all these years mourning him, you know..."

Iakovos seemed frozen. "I..I don't remember Aleksander that much, it would be hard for me to describe him now, after all these years. But...What if you did see him? You never found his body, did you? Then..Maybe, maybe it's possible...But why hasn't he contacted me?...Methodios, please, tell me, where did you see him?"

"No, his body was never found" A sad look of remembrance crossed Methodios' face "As to your other question, I met him on my way here but with the crowds, I lost him almost immediately... I wish I could tell you more..."

Iakovos nodded. "It’s alright, Methodios. But this news of my brother disturbs me slightly...If he is alive, then why has he made no effort to contact anyone? Something is amiss, and I plan to find out. Methodios, I ask you now, do you wish to join me in the hunt for my brother?"

"I agree that there is something strange about this... Still, we have to allow for the fact that your brother was very young at the time of his "disappearance"... Many things could have befallen him.” Methodios argued. “Still, I'll provide any help I can in tracking him down. I know someone who works at the Hippodrome. He is the best there is if you wish to know something of what happens in Constantinople... If your brother is still in town, he will know. I'll ask him when I find the time between debate sessions."

Iakovos smiled. "Thank you Methodios, I appreciate any help you have to offer. Please, ask your friend for me though...I am currently too busy as of right now."

Methodios nodded.

The men then shook hands and went their own separate ways to join in the debates of the Magnaura.

ULC

07-23-2008, 11:50

Adana, 1110

Co-op done with PK ^^

It is dark in the chambers of the Order of St.John, especially in Makedonios's room. The darkness aids one individual, as he creeps across the floor from a window. With lighting reflexes, he seizes Makedonios and holds a blade to his throat.

"Speak not a word unless I say so, and do not be so foolish to call for the guards."

A figure across the room says softly, "I'm over here. Don't bother stabbing, it's a straw dummy. My men saw you go up the wall. After the last person sneaked in here, I put a 24 hour watch on this part of the building."

Makedonios walks forward just enough for a glint of his sword to be seen in the near-darkness.

"My men passed an alarm to Nick who woke me up just a moment ago. Just so you know, I'm not alone in this room. I'm getting tired of these games. But from the sound of your voice, your not someone I've met before. You better start talking."

The figure seemed hesitant for only a moment, as if taking the possibilities...but only for a moment. A series of lights flash, deadly little lights in the night. Each hits a target, wounding or killing those it hits, all except for Makedonios, as the knife whizzes by his ear.

Within a heartbeat, the assailant is upon Makedonios, twisting his sword hand sharply, taking advantage of Makedonios's weakness from his prolonged sickness. "I will kill you before another guard can even reach you, so do not think yourself so high and mighty. Your death will only please my mas-"

The Assailant stops short. On the window sill is the familiar form of the woman from the Organization. He seems to stare at her in abject terror. Her eyes narrow under her hood. "Go ahead, touch him, give me reason to make your death long and painful scum."

The Assailant seems suddenly caught between killing Makedonios or running for his life. The woman continues to stare right at the Assailant while speaking to Makedonios "M'lord, if you would call for the guards please?

Makedonios stared at the man defiantly as Nick came out of the shadows with a small sharp object sticking out of his arm. Even though he was hurt Nick bowled into the assailant. When the man twisted Makedonios's wrist, it bend him backward and he was able to reach his boot knife with his other hand. When Nick and the assailant grappled, Makedonios dropped to his knees and put the knife to the man's throat.

"How do you like it?"

The Assailant struggles until he feels the cold steel of the knife. He stared coldly into Makedonios's eyes. "To hell with you, you insufferable, pompous fool!"

The woman steps into the room and reaches out. "Don't kill him, yet. He may work for Symeon. He may have useful information."

Makedonios barked a command and men burst into his room. Light from the hallway showed three guards in the room lay dead from the man's blades. As Nick held the man down, Makedonios got up to check on his fallen men. With a quiet intent, he checked for a pulse, closed each man's eyes, and said a quiet prayer. He acted as if the woman wasn't even in the room.

The woman seemed a little annoyed. "I think it kind of you not to try and clap me in chains too...I am sorry for your men, but he ran faster then I did, and I was not able to catch up with him in time."

Iakovos raced down the hall, following the guards, his sword drawn and his mind worried. The Grandmaster's room...no, please tell me no.... Iakovos turned the corner into the room and saw a ghost.

It took a moment for the figure of Iakovos to set in for the woman, who was just as shocked.

When Iakovos ran in, Mak looked up. He saw the new Knight of the Order and the woman just staring at each other. Guards had started taking the fallen men out of the room. Nick, and a few guards, had sat the assailant on a chair bound in chains. Their weapons were out and against the man's body.

"Alright, can someone tell me what is going on?"

Iakovos spoke first, moving forward with one arm out stretched. "Veronica?! I haven-"

The woman cut him off "Veronica is no more Iakovos, the girl you once knew died long ago." She turned to leave, but Iakovos stepped forward and grabbed her arm

"Veronica...why are you here? Why are you dressed li-"

"Iakovos unhand me!" She shrugged him off. "I think your Grandmaster asked you something..."

Iakovos reddened. "Excuse me Grandmaster, forgive me...I had heard the noise and prepared myself for a fight, following the guards here...and now I find my childhood friend, and a man who has tried to murder you, and I am at a loss for words..."

Makedonios raised his eyebrow as he watched the two people interact. When the woman tried to leave, the Grandmaster made a gesture with his hands and a couple guards moved to block her way but they did not touch her.

"Excuse me, but you've appeared suddenly in my bed-chambers for the second time. You are not going anywhere. Not until you tell me who he is." Makedonios pointed at the man in the chair.

The woman nods. "Do you mind?" She waited for no reply, and instead quickly walked over to the man in the chair and tore his hood back, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and forced his head down. "One of Markellinos's thugs...your name, now...I said your name you-"

"Evdaemon! Evdaemon! My name is Evdaemon wench!"

"Who hired you, because I know Markellinos isn't this stupid...answer me now!"

"Go to-"

"Enough!" Makedonios bellowed and moved the woman out of the way. He turned to her and said sternly, "You will not do that to him!"

Turning to the man in the chair, Makedonios questioned him. "Alright listen up, your going to go to prison. How long you stay there depends on how helpful you are. If you help, I'll make sure you get assigned to a work gang and help build the new structures around here. You refuse, and it will be solitary confinement. Your choice..."

Evdaemon smiled when Makedonios shoved the woman back., but when Makedonios mentioned prison, Evdaemon's countenance soured.

"Sounds wonderful, I love working with my hands, of course, I'm not very good at it." Evdaemon grinned at an inner thought. "Of course, solitary sounds just as appealing...doesn't matter, see once I'm out, I'll come for you again, and the next time, I won't bother with any formalities, because the guy paying for your head is offering just too much to pass up."

The woman made to step forward with a raised fist, but Iakovos grabbed her arm. "Veronica, enough! I am sure the Grandmaster can handle this man...and I would like to speak to you later, please."

Makedonios turned his head to glare at Veronica. Turning back, he addressed the man again. "Well, you will find our prisons quite sturdy. While we do not believe in certain kinds of punishments here, we do not shy completely from the penal experience. You will sit in confinement with nothing to do but pray. If you won't talk then this meeting is over."

He signaled for the guards to take him away.

As Evdaemon was escorted out, Veronica turned to leave. Iakovos again grabbed her arm, and again she shook free of it. Suddenly both were locked staring at each other, Iakovos questioning, Veronica seething.

"Veronica, what are you doing here?" Iakovos spoke softly

Makedonios got in her way. "Oh no, your not leaving that easily. Iakovos asked you a question. Exactly what were you doing waiting around my bedroom window? Do you always sit outside my chambers? You coming in to 'save' me in the knick of time is a tad 'convenient' don't you think?"

Veronica looked hard back at Makedonios, her hood obscuring most of her features. "I was doing what I was ordered to, to keep an eye on you and to act as your liaison. I was trailing Evdaemon, and when I figured out he was heading here, I made my way here as quickly as possible...and no, I only sit outside your chambers sometimes."

Mak gave her a sour look. "Well stop it. It creeps me out. I only started having these troubles after your 'Organization' contacted me. So far, you've been nothing but trouble. Pray that I keep thinking it is just bad luck on your part, rather than assign you more sinister motives. If there is nothing else, I'll leave you and Iakovos here to get reacquainted. But please do it somewhere else. People need to get in here and clean. As for me, I'm going to bed. Somewhere with no windows preferably."

He turned to leave the room and said over his shoulder, "If I 'need' anything, I know how to get a hold of you."

Veronica sneered a little at Makedonios's comment, and turned to leave. Iakovos reacted quickly though, and blocked her path.

"Veronica, please...talk to me. Why do you keep trying to leave? I haven't seen you since-"

"Since what Iakovos? Since your mother died? Iakovos things are much different now...I don't have time for this." Veronica moved to get past Iakovos again. He promptly moved to block her again.

"Then what do you have time for Veronica?"

"Stop calling me that! Damn you! Your lucky no one knows whom I am!" Veronica balled up her fist tightly. "Iakovos, I will ask one last time..."

Iakovos looked pleadingly. "Please...just 10 minutes. That's all I ask."

Veronica seemed to consider this for a few moments. "Fine, but I want privacy, period. If I find out my cover was blown, I will kill you. You have ten minutes."

Iakovos smiled. "I see you haven't changed Veronica. Follow me then."

**********************************************************

A few minutes later...

"Ike, can I ask what possessed you to join the Order of St.John? Why leave the estate behind, leave all of your fortunes, your villa, your life, just...for what?!"

"Veronica, I can't expect you to understand. It is just something I have to do, it is...my calling. I can feel it, I can feel that this is my place and this is where I should be." Iakovos looked over at Veronica. With her hood down, she truly was beautiful: short raven black hair, sky blue eyes, a mild complexion and a natural smile.

Veronica noticed Iakovos staring, and her face quickly changed to resentment. "Iakovos, stop looking at me like that."

"Stop looking at you like what?"

"Stop looking at me like you did when I was 14 and you were 12."

Iakovos raised an eyebrow. "Veronica, what on earth are you talking about? When have I ever looked at you differently?"

Veronica burst out in laughter. "That's the Iakovos I remember, you were always so innocent...Ike, can I ask you something?"

Iakovos smiles. "Anything."

Veronica's expression turned serious. "Have you ever thought of what it would be like to simply live a normal life? I mean, get away from all the politics, the cloak and dagger, the war...and just live out your days, happily. Have you Ike?"

Iakovos pondered for a moment. "No, not really. My life is to serve the Order, I can't just walk out on the responsibilities given to me. People, soldiers, my Brothers, they all depend on me to do my part...if I leave, who will fill my role?" Iakovos ran a hand through Veronica's hair. "And of you? Why don't you give up the life you lead now?"

Veronica heaved a sigh. "I have my own duties to attend to Ike...my own promises to keep." Veronica leaned against Iakovos and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's been more then ten minutes Veronica..."

"Don't worry, I set my own schedule."

Zim

07-24-2008, 01:32

New Mavrozomis Estate, Scopia, 1101.

A carriage pulled amid heavy snowfall up to the courtyard of Kosmas Mavrozomis' estate. Kosmas himself exited the carriage, cursing at the cold and shaking off the snow rapidly accumulating on his cloak as he walked to the front steps of his home. Scopia's winters were quite harsher than what he was used to in Athens.Once at the door he stamped the snow from his boots and entered.

Kosmas had just heard exciting news on his daily trip around town. Unsure what to make of it, he decided to go to the one person he trusted completely, his wife Theoktisti. He found her in their daughter Rossanna's room. She had apparently shooed away the woman who normally watche Rossanna, and was sitting in a small chair next to the crib where the baby lay sleeping, reading.

Kosmas stepped into the room "Theoktisti, I just heard some interesting news from Constantinople." Kosmas wife looked up from her book. She was a small woman, with dark hair and an eternally earnest expression. "The Patriarch has apparently taken a page from the book of our barbarous friends to the west, calling a crusade on Egypt to take Alexandria and Cairo. "

Theoktisti looked puzzled. "But why? Aren't our armies already tied up in the war with the Turks and watching those German bandits making their way to Jerusalem?"

Kosmas nodded and continued, face glowing with excitement "Yes, but there is no time to wait until Imperial forces are no longer occupied. The Caliph of the Saracens has decided to slaughter the Christians in his empire, fearing the strength of their numbers. So the Patriarch has called for volunteers of both soldiers and nobles to lead them, to meet in Constantinople. Think about it, Theoktisti. Never have so many men of the empire gathered freely for such a grand endeav-"

Theoktisti's puzzlement turned to rage and she interrupted Kosmas. "How dare the Caliph think of such a thing? It is bad enough monsters like Hypatios get away with such things here, but at least they can be dealt with by our own Emperor and laws. For a leader of a nation to comtemplate such a massacre... Kosmas, you must join the crusaders."

Kosmas hesitated briefly before responding, carefully considering the idea. "But Theoktisti, I am not so young a man as I used to be. There are also not many fighting men here at the outskirts of the empire, at least not the kind that join crusades. More importantly, I may be needed here to protect the borders of the empire and my family." At the mention of his family Kosmas glanced towards Rossanna, stirring in her crib.

Theoktisti looked less than entirely convinced. "I would not want to have to tell Rossanna someday that her father passed up a chance to serve the patriarch and help save the lives of many thousands of Christians. As a nobleman of rank and a member of the Imperial family your participation could make the difference that helps the crusade succeed."

Kosmas looked thoughtful "It has always been a dream of mine to find my calling to serve the Lord. As leader of Asteri political neccessities would have prevented me from doing such a thing. Perhaps my fall in rank was predestined to allow me to serve this calling. Still, if I leave what if the Hungarians or other barbarian attack? Or if the Germans turn back to "forage", as they call their pillaging. What of you and Rossanna?"

Theoktisti put a hand on Kosmas' shoulder. "We will be fine, Kosmas. The Basileus himself is protecting our northern border while Savvas tails the Germans. More than enough Nobles are likely to stay to protect our western border. The martyrs gave up their lives for their faith. Can we call ourselves Christians if we are not prepared to make a similiar sacrifice"

Kosmas smiled at his wife "I think you are right, Theoktisti. This endeavor is bigger than me, or our family. The Egyptian Christians do not have to option of avoiding danger. I cannot ignore the call to Crusade, not if I can have the slightest effect on its chance of success. I will see about putting the word out in Scopia and the outlying towns that I am joining the crusade, and see what volunteers I can gather to come with me."

TheFlax

07-24-2008, 21:39

((Coop written with Elite Ferret and YourLordAndConqueror))

Iconium 1110

The sun was declining in the seventh hour of the day as the screams of the dying echoed throughout the recently captured city. Yet, the men manning the city gates seemed unoccupied, and when Anna's carriage approached with two scores of heavily armed guards, they barely reacted. The passengers heard a loud but terse exchange between one of the men guarding the gate and the captain of the royal escorts, until finally the man retreated back to the carriage to consult with the princess.

"Highness, these men won't let us enter the city, they say they require their lord's permission."

Anna stepped out of the carriage and made her way to the gate proper. She never had the opportunity to change her clothes since Ancyra and her purple palla and tunica were both ruffled and lightly sullied with dirt. Nevertheless, she maintained a royal bearing and made her voice as commanding as she could.

"You have knowledge of my person and yet you deny me passage?"

The men hesitated for an instant and looked at each other before one of them dared speak up.

"Your Highness, we have out orders."

"Very well, who gave you these orders?"

"It was Antypatos Hypatios Machonios, your Highness."

Juliana peeked out from the carriage, suddenly interested in the commotion. The first thing which truly came to her was the overall atmosphere of the place. It hanged heavy with death. When she spotted Anna arguing with the gate guards, she quickly made her way over to her.

The men at the gate proved to be useless. Surely this was another of Machonios' ploys to aggravate her, but Anna would not give them any satisfaction. With icy calm, she waited to be admitted into the city.

Juliana waited nervously by Anna, not being used to having this many guards around who weren't chasing her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone on the wall. It was a cloaked man, in red and black, who seemed to be taking in the current situation down below, tossing it up into the air and catching it mid air. He took notice of Juliana, as if he knew her, and then after a second of contemplation, disappeared.

"Your Majesty... there was someone on the wall observing us."

Taking notice of Juliana for the first time since she left the carriage, Anna turned slightly. "Of course there is someone observing us, this is all a game to him."

Juliana shook her head. "No, I don't think it was a soldier, I think it was one of the-" Juliana suddenly clammed up, a look of fear on her face.

"One of the what?" Anna's voice was insistent.

Juliana seemed hesitant. "The..the Organization. He wears the midnight black of the Organization, and his red-" Juliana seemed slightly overcame by fear, but held herself together.

"*You* know of them?" Incredulity swept through her feature, before Anna narrowed her eyes in understanding. "Unless... they planted you! To gain my trust and meddle in my affair. Is that it girl?"

A shocked Juliana held up her hands in her defense. "Please your Majesty, I would never do such a thing. Please, you must understand! The Organization...it is well known in the underground...they have tried to recruit me, it is true, but I could never join such people... they ask too much, and give so little...please your Majesty, have mercy."

Juliana was now on the verge of tears. "What I know of the comes from one of my-" She reddened. "From one of my clients, whom I grew close to. He told me much about them... before they excuted him that is."

Anna motioned her to calm down. "You fear for your life?"

Juliana nodded. "The Organization is swift to punish those... who know too much. I know that red is sign they have marked you, and those with the red raven emblem are assassins. I live today because the man who told me this gave his life to protect me... for them, it was a fair exchange."

"They cannot reach you now." Anna replied as a matter of fact.

Juliana shook her head. "I saw one upon the-". From behind her, a much deeper, almost scarred sounding voice finished her sentence. "Wall? Princess Anna Komnenos, how good to see you. Having problems with the guards? We can get you in if you like, it will cost nothing, in fact, we'll give you something."

The man was cloaked in back, with a white raven emblem across his sagion and chiton. Juliana seemed almost to faint for a second then quickly relaxed. Turning to Anna, she whispered. "A representative... they are negotiators... killing him is an offense to the Organization punishable by death, since he is unarmed."

The two score of men surrounding them drew their weapons, but waited for a command from Anna. She moved closer to the man, any hint of surprise there may have been was now gone, replaced by a piercing glare.

"It seems you people never got the message my husband sent you, in that light, let me reiterate. If either he, or I, ever see one of you again without permission, your life is forfeit. I hope this time the message is well received, because if this ever happens again I will not be so forgiving." Each word carried an edge in her voice.

"As for your offer, I must decline. Everything has a price, nothing is free and I will enter the city by my own means sooner or later, Machonios' men cannot delay me forever and they know it."

The cloaked man nodded. "Very well your Highness, as you request. We have other, more important matters to attend to." He returned Anna's glare with a jovial smile. "I am sure Machonios' men will let you in now, knowing that we are about. Leaving someone like yourself out in the open like this, vulnerable, would be a grave error in a series of errors the Senator has made today."

"Begone, before I show you exactly who is vulnerable." Anna turned back to the gate and crossed her arms. To her surprise, the gates opened before her and a man made his way to her.

"As you will." The cloaked figure then neatly departed from the scene. Juliana spoke once he was gone. "Your majesty..I thank you for what you have done for me so far...things have truly become terrible for those like me lately...with the Organization thinking it can control everything, and Markellinos' men robbing people in broad daylight..."

Anna nodded to the girl, but indicated she should keep quiet for now, the gate guard was now next to them as he addressed Anna.

"Your Highness, please follow me." His breath stank of alcohol and his words were slightly slurred, nevertheless, Anna complied, wishing to avoid any other delays. Her retinue fell in behind her.

As they went deeper and deeper into the city, the streets became strewn with the bloody corpses of men, women and children; most of them unarmed civilians. Anna frowned in disgust.

Juliana tried to hold her breath as she followed Anna through Iconium's blood soaked streets. "Your Majesty, forgive me for asking, but why do you hate the Organization? I know why I do...but why do you?"

The reply she received was bitter. "They spied on me and threatened my daughter, they are arrogant and presumptuous. Too little is known about them to establish any kind of trust, I have been betrayed enough for one lifetime."

Juliana was taken aback slightly. "That is terrible your Majesty...you have a daughter?"

"...And a son." Anna added.

Juliana brightened. "Thats wonderful your Majesty, may I ask what are their names are? How old are they?"

Anna indulged her. "Helena has seen two springs, and Magnentios is about half her age."

Juliana smiled. "Helena and Magnentios...what wonderful names." She began humming a light tune to herself, which sharply contrasted with the scenery.

Anna gave her some time before turning to her with concern. "The man we are about to meet, he... suffice to say, awful things may happen. Stay close to me and you will be fine."

Juliana seemed unfazed, almost defiant. "What could have this man have possibly done that I need fear your majesty?"

"This." Anna indicated the corpses on the street with a gesture of her hand.

Juliana seemed not to understand for a moment, but then the awful truth hit her. "Wait...no, one man could have..." Juliana suddenly felt dizzy, the world spinning about her, becoming a twirling vision of death. She fell to her knees, her hands coming out to catch her fall. She pulled them back, both now covered in blood.

They all stopped for Juliana. "This would not be the first time." Anna motioned for one of her guards to help the girl back to her feet. "According to some rumors, Hypatios may have had ordered the extermination of Smyrna also."

Juliana seemed to grow angry at the mention of Smyrna. "How could such a man sleep peacefully?! Does he have no shame?" Juliana composed herself, letting the mixture of feelings sort themselves out harmlessly. "Your Majesty, may I ask why are to see such a man?"

"I have my reasons" Anna's gaze wandered from Juliana to their guide, seeing he was not paying attention she continued with her voice down to a whisper. "To put an end to all of this."

Juliana nodded, quietly taking in what Anna had said. "Your Majesty, you must forgive me, but when we meet this man, I...I will not be able to sleep well if I do nothing...if awful things do happen."

The soft voice of Anna now took a firmer undertone. "Do not concern yourself with such things."

Juliana nodded. "Yes, your Majesty."

The group at last came to the town hall of the settlement, where Hypatios waited. Only two unarmed guards were allowed to accompany Anna into the room where Hypatios waited alone. He had not bothered changing or cleaning since the slaughter and so was still largely covered in blood, his hair matted with it and his facial features distorted by it. He evidently had joined in enthusiastically with the killing. He took no note of the entrance of the Princess, merely laid back in the ex-Sultan's throne and waited for Anna to speak.

She shot him a dejected look. "What is the meaning of this slaughter Hypatios?"

Hypatios looked confused, "Slaughter? Oh you mean the few I have killed here. Well they are the enemy and they are infidel. Is not killing the infidel a sure path to heaven? Besides these were the evil bastards who took this settlement from lawful Romans, it is only right that they be punished and evicted so that the Romans of nearby villages can reclaim their lost lands. Besides it is no business of yours what happens here, I only allowed you in to amuse me with your arguments."

Her voice nearly rose to a screech. "THE FEW?? Have you seen the streets? They are rife with bodies and most of them are not soldiers!" Anna calmed herself and returned to a more measured voice. "Unless you mean to tell me you have lost control of the situation?"

Hypatios laughed at her outburst, "Oh no the situation is perfectly under control, we are merely restoring this settlement to the true light of the Orthodox faith and the Roman way of life. Ah here is my swordbearer, I don't think you've met Titus before?" The man enters and stood menacingly in the shadows with a half drawn sword.

"You would threaten ME?" Anna shook her head in dismay, before fixing the man with an icy glare. "Do not worsen your case Hypatios, you already have broken one of our laws. Surrender now, peacefully, and I will take you to the Magnaura so that you may answer for your crimes."

Hypatios looks shocked, "My dear Anna my friend here was not intended to threaten you, far from it. He has come here to deliver me a report of what has happened and so prove to you that I have not lost control. I am sorry if this sent across the wrong vibes" Hypatios signals to the man to sheath his blade with an angry jerk of his hand.

"As for surrendering, I am sorry but I do not see what you mean. As far as I know no crimes have been committed, have I not just taken the capital of the enemy and killed their Sultan?" He moves closer to her and the light of a nearby candle illuminates the gore that covers his body.

"Do not play me for a fool Hypatios, you know perfectly well what I mean." She pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You broke an edict of the Magnaura, you broke the law!"

"Ah the Edict. Well it is only natural that laws are broken on occasions, all great men have done it throughout history. I believe what I have done is for the good of our nation, and laws made by bickering pious old men will not stop me doing what I think is right. In addition to this, the creation of the "edict" was to bind the chancellor, to give all senators a say in how the empire is run. This edict attempted to control something that is personal to each general and that is not a true edict, and so I decided not to follow it."

"Enough!" Anna eyed the swordbearer for a reaction. "That is not for you to decide. Save your excuses for the Magnaura. Will you come peacefully or shall I have my men drag you there?"

Hypatios' laughter boomed around the room, "You do realize that there are nearly seven hundred soldiers under my command in this city. As soon as you entered this room the rest of your guards were escorted to the barracks where they were disarmed and surrounded. At the sound of one command they will all be killed. You have no power here my Lady, you have two unarmed men against a whole army, to try anything here is pointless, it will only end up in me having to keep you under guard in Ioannis' sick bay. I also find it strange that you have come here before seeing him, you do know that your husband suffered an injury?"

Anna dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. "I know very well the condition of my husband. Once more, you overstep your bounds, you cannot detain me, I am the Basileus' daughter! Either you return with me to the Magnaura, or I shall head there myself and give testimony of the atrocities you committed. I am sure my father would be interested in hearing my version of what happened here and of how you treated me." She let the words hang, it was hard to say if it was a simple threat or if she really meant them.

"If you were to attempt to capture me then it would be my every right to detain you, or send you home. As for your father, I am told he has already condemned me, I understand news of my actions have traveled fast and there is uproar in the Magnaura. If you are to return there, and you certainly will without me, I have work to do here and shall not return until the end of the term, then do you think you could carry a message from me?"

"I am not your messenger Hypatios" Anna answered coolly. "Enjoy your "victory" while it last, the good men of the Empire will not let your crime go unpunished." Without waiting for a reply, she turned to leave.

From the shadows a figure appeared, cloaked in black, with a red raven emblem. "Your Highness, leaving so early? Hypatios, you should treat our guests better."

Outside, Juliana had snuck her way into the Town Hall undetected, and rounded the corner where she saw the man in black and red speaking to Anna. She covered her mouth to keep from scream and quickly darted behind a wall.

Hypatios grinned, "Allow me to introduce my accomplice, Master Grigorias. I trust you'll stay little longer to get to know him your highness?"

Anna turned slowly and frowned deeply when she spotted the figure. "I should have know you lot would associate yourselves with a mass-murdering lunatic like Hypatios. Here to stop me I presume?"

"Your Highness, why do you throw such words around like "lunatic" and "murderer"? Those are distinctions held by society on an individual when they disagree with his tactics. It will actually be quite wonderful around here afterward, you see, because not only will we have plenty of fertilizer for the farms, we have also eliminated poverty in one stroke. Don't you agree those are wonderful things, your Highness?" He smiles under his hood. "And we think, your Highness, that you should have an extended tour of Iconium, to see all the wonderful parts of the city, don't you agree Hypatios?"

Juliana pulled out the knife she kept hidden, closed her eyes and said a prayer to God.

Hypatios gave the man a cold stare, "Please do not threaten the Princess, though she may not see eye to eye with me she is the wife of my friend and a gracious lady, indeed I regret that we cannot be friends Anna."

"I have heard enough." Anna stormed out of the room, her two guards in tow.

Grigorias stepped out of Anna's path, only to turn back to Hypatios. "Forgive me M'lord, I was only trying to extend a friendly hand to the Princess. Do you need me to send out the Trackers?"

"No, let her leave in peace, this meeting is over" Hypatios left the room to go and clean himself up.

When Juliana saw Princess Anna leave unharmed, she exhaled a breath of relief, and ran hurriedly after her to catch up.

00jebus

07-25-2008, 02:01

co-op with the flax

Constantinople 1111

Lisas was sitting comfortably in his favourite tavern, enjoying the atmosphere of a few glasses of local wine, when he received his weekly report letter from his messenger from the Magnaura, reading it shocked him and he left for the capital at once, how could Iconium have been razed without him knowing about it?, what had the Turks done that made Hypathos kill most of its inhabitants

Anna had taken her leave of the Magnaura until they had further need of her and had retreated to the exit of the building in order to get some fresh air. Without care or consideration, she blocked the entrance to the Magnaura as she absently brushed away some of the dirt on her tunica.

Just as Lisas turned into the Magnaura, flecks of dirt filled his eyes but the message to stop hadn't reached his legs yet. He bounded into the Princess, knocking both to the floor.

Lisas lifted his hands to his face, clawing the dirt out of his eyes, before pushing himself up, muttering "that better not be a priest" before seeing it was her Majesty.
He extended a hand, offering to pull her up too, breathlessly stammering "Oh my god, your highness, I am so sorry, I didn't look where I was going... I heard a terrible rumour and had to know if it’s true, I'm just... prattling" he finished with a sigh.

"Wonderful" he thought to himself "first time meeting my lord's sister, no, any female royal, and I nearly knock her out!" Lisas, who could never help but think of the worst case, also wondered who was capable of the worst punishment if he had knocked her out, Anna's husband, brother, father, or the two burly bodyguards looking down on him like he was a clumsy idiot.

Anna declined the offered and slowly rose by herself. She winced slightly, in pain, as she finally gathered herself and addressed the offending Senator.

"Yes, this is a peculiar day, and for that, I absolve you of any offence. I pray, in the future, you will pay more heed as to where your feet lead you."

Slightly relieved, "Thank you, your Highness, I'm normally much more graceful, er, peculiar for you too? I hope we haven't heard the same rumour."

"It is no rumour." Anna's soft voice turned cold. "I witnessed first hand the atrocities perpetrated in Iconium and confronted Hypatios Machonios on the issue, I believe he is proud of his deeds." Her disgust is obvious at the mention of the name.

*Lisas' face fell, he thought he pulled it off very well, princesses, he though, would be well informed, so why not use this golden oppertunity to find out what really happened? thinking quickly, he said* "Thats, a lot worse than what I heard, I heard two senators were killed taking the city so it was sacked, God, atrocities, he's proud of? What actually happened there?"

"No Senators were killed, my husband is wounded but should recover, if Hypatios does not kill him in the meanwhile." She narrowed her eyes. "You want to know what happened? Hypatios Machonios butchered Iconium because it gives him pleasure and because he thinks himself above the laws set in the Magnaura. None were spared the sword; be it men, women and children; be it Muslims or Christians; be it commoners or nobles. Hypatios presided over the slaughter on the throne of the dead Sultan, covered in the blood of his victims. The scribe in the Magnaura has transcribed my testimony if you wish greater details."

"That," he searched for a few choice words, but decided against using them in front of the emperor's daughter, "that's disgusting, well, your Highness, I have to go, I wish I could say its been a pleasure meeting you, but not even a pathological liar would attempt that."

Anna simply nodded and moved out of the Senator's way.

Lisas bowed and made for the bathroom, deciding to take a minute compose himself before rushing to a decision about this.

woad&fangs

07-25-2008, 04:19

Dockyards, Constantinople, 1111

Solomon sat on a crate of spices, looking out at the pier where two old merchant ships were being readied for the journey to Egypt. He had managed to get them at bargain prices thanks to a favor he was owed by a local trader. The smaller and less sea worthy of the two crafts was a decrepit Byzantine vessel which looked as if it hadn’t been sea worthy since before he was born. The other ship which was to be his flagship was a small but swift vessel of Venetian origin. There was only one problem with her….

Clearly painted on the hull, in bold crimson lettering was the ships name, Satan’s Arse. It will just have to be scrubbed off and replaced with something more appropriate for the crusade thought Solomon. He pulled out a small leather bound bible from his russet tunic and began reading for inspiration. Several hours past and the sun began to fall beneath the western horizon. With the light quickly fading, Solomon decided to read one last passage before retiring for the evening. Ezekiel 25:17 he muttered to himself as his brown eyes traversed the page. “That seems rather appropriate….Even if it is a bit vague”

Solomon rose to retire for the night but stopped when four men rounded the corner. They were all dressed in the livery of that damn Asteri house. The four men were pushing large barrels and were heading towards a ship to the north. With a devilish glint in his eyes, Solomon followed them, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. At last they stopped in front of a ship he knew belonged to Strator Laskaris.

“Eh, this is the last of the provisions. Lets get it loaded so we can rest ‘for we set sail tomorrow,” Stated the tallest of the men.

“Iannios, you heard ‘bout what’s being said up that the Magnaura,” Asked a pockmarked man in the group, “They say old Hypatios Butchered a whole city himself. Say he even raped the Sultan’s prize camel ‘for he burned it to death.”

“Those are filthy lies spread by those filthy monks from Antioch and I better not hear you spreading them again,” replied the man who was apparently Ioannis.

“All the same,” said the pockmarked man, “It makes getting supplies a right old pain. The first thing those bloody merchants ask us is what house we serve. T’second we say Asteri they get all uppity with us. I had a hard time getting something as simple as water from those money grubbing usurers.”

The rest of the conversation was lost to Solomon as the four boarded the ship. Solomon crouched behind a small fishing boat and waited for the men to leave. After he was sure they had gone he walked over the edge of the pier and dived in. He swam over to the hull of Laskaris’ ship and pulled out two daggers. He gouged one into the hull of the ship and then the other. Slowly, he crawled his way up the side of the ship using the two daggers. Once on board Solomon quickly found the entrance to the lower decks and darted inside before one of the night guards caught him.

Solomon made his way over to the barrels containing fresh water. Grabbing a nearby hammer, he cracked open the barrels. He didn’t yet know what he was going to do but he wasn’t going to let any of those cursed Asteri mongrels beat him to Aegyptus. All he had to do was stall him for a few days.

A rat scurried across the floor and Solomon had his plan. He lunged at the rat and pinned it with one of his daggers. The animal shrieked in pain but Solomon swiftly put it out of his misery with his other dagger. Raising the rodent over a barrel he gutted the poor creature and scraped its innards into first one barrel, and then another, and then another. Then he hacked the creature apart and distributed the pieces into the other barrels.

His sabotage complete, Solomon knelt and clasped his hands in prayer, “Lord, please guide my ship on its holy mission and give it great speed. Please let no one fall ill because of my sabotage but please keep those filthy maggots out of Aegyptus, Amen.”

Before he left Solomon crossed over to one of the polluted barrels and, in what he would later describe as “one of the most arrogant foolhardy things I ever did”, he carved the following message into the oaken barrel.

The Lord has judged your house and found it filthier than Sodom and viler than Gomorrah. He now rebukes it and all its members. He now strikes down with great vengeance and furious anger, those who follow the madman, Hypatios.

~Solomon

Ibn-Khaldun

07-25-2008, 21:12

Dockyards, Constantinople, 1111

Efstathios sat on his chair and read the notes about Egypt. These were well written by some of the best cartographers of the Byzantine Empire.

Suddenly he heard someone knocking on his door.

"Enter" said Efstathios.

A tall man with one eye came in. He looked rather nervous..

"What is the problem, Ioannis" asked Efstahios in the same time thinking that the Greeks needs more names besides this one..

"My Lord, apparently someone have polluted our water supplies. It would take couple of more days to get new ones. Also, this was written in one of those barrels" said Ioannis.

Efstathios took a note handed him by his ships Captain. There was written..

"The Lord has judged your house and found it filthier than Sodom and viler than Gomorrah. He now rebukes it and all its members. He now strikes down with great vengeance and furious anger, those who follow the madman, Hypatios.

~Solomon"

Efstathios yelled with anger.

"Who is he to do this!! Who the hell he think he is!! May Gods wrath be upon him!! What have I ever done to deserve this?! I said in the Magnaura that I don't like what Hypatios did!! And still he do this?! This Solomon guy should be brought to justice for doing this!!"

Ioannis coucht..

"My dear sir. Do you forget what we tried to.."

"Be silent!" Efstathios said. "It is one thing to do this to others. Another thing when it is done to you! At least We didn't get caught!!"

Efstathios smiled ..

"Oh well.. Do what you must. Just make sure we would get enough drinking water and this time without some 'extra flavour' in it!"

Ioannis bowed and left from the room.

"Looks like this Crusade isn't going to be as boring as I thought!"

Ferret

07-25-2008, 22:45

Co-op with YourLordandConqueror

Assume these events took place before Hypatios came to the Magnaura

Imperial Camp, outside Iconium

Master Grigorias took pride in his work as one of the assassins of the Organization. It paid well, he was protected, and he got to see interesting places. Iconium was one of those places, but sadly, Grigorias would not be exercising his abilities today. Instead, he would be meeting with a man named Hypatios, one of those Nobles from House Asteri. "Wonderful, stuck doing a Negotiators job...and I'm stuck waiting for him as well..."

After what seemed an age Hypatios' sword bearer, Titus, showed Grigorias through, Hypatios was reading reports on what was happening in the senate,

"Greetings Grigorias, sorry to keep you waiting, now what was it you wished to talk about?"

Grigorias straightened his cloak a little. "Yes, of course. The Organization has come forward, in the interests of the Empire, to help pacify Iconium."

Hypatios looks speculative, "And how will you do that? My men have already hunted down and killed most of the Muslims. Also, do you have any reason to help me, I trust this is for the interests of the Empire as a whole rather than for personal gain."

Grigorias bowed. "Of course M'lord, allow me to explain. The Organization has a vested interest in seeing the Empire prosper, and we believe that even with what you have done, you will lose Iconium to dissenters. I doubt you will find these people on your own...we have had , difficult experiences with them in the past. Rest assured though, if we work together, they will not stand a chance."

Hypatios looks suspicious, "Tell me of these...'people'."

Grigorias smiles. "Of course my lord, in fact, I will show one of them to you, if you wish it?"

Hypatios instantly hardens, "Be careful whom you bring into my presence, make sure he is held tight, I don't want to take any risks here, I still don't know if I can trust you."

Grigorias nods. "Of course, I assure you will have nothing to worry about from her." Grigorias whistles, and little under a minute later, another man in a dark cloak with a white wolf emblem drags in a struggling woman with raven hair and sky blue eyes. She is chained hands and feet, gagged, and dressed in torn black clothing. Yet still, in her eyes remain a fiery defiance.

"This...woman...is a member of a group of defectors bent on insuring that at every turn, the plans of the Empire and the safety of it's people are put at risk. They attempt to use our very name, our very symbols, in the perpetration of their acts. This cannot continue, I am sure you will agree."

Hypatios is still unsure, "And how exactly are they putting the Empire's plans at risk?"

"They have threatened the Emperor's daughter, and have attempted to even kill several nobles...all in our name." Grigorias's eyes brim with anger, and he seems almost ready to lash out at his prisoner. "They have put forth attempts to even have the people on the fringes of the empire to rebel..."

Hypatios' eyes light with surprise, "So these are the people who have been doing those things, tell me though, why should I trust you, and what do you want from me? If you are as skilled as you claim then surely you can take care of these people without coming to see me?"

Grigorias's voice on an even more respectful tone. "True, but we would rather work with a noble to clear our name in this matter. If we sneaked around doing our business it might complicate matters unnecessarily. And with your help, we will have enough manpower to catch them all...without having to chase them or lose anyone unnecessarily."

"Alright, you may go about your business but I ask that one of my most trusted men, my swordbearer Titus, accompany you while you find the people. If anything goes amiss, you may find empty air above your neck and shoulders."

Grigorias nods. "I thank you M'lord, you needn't worry about a thing. If we may, we would like to present this woman as a gift to you, as a sign of our loyalty to the Empire."

Hypatios smiles, "Thank you, I will...question...her later."

With that he leaves the room, taking the girl with him.

OverKnight

07-25-2008, 22:51

<Coop with AussieGiant>

Thrace, 1110

A hard rain was falling as Basileus Aleksios, Apionnas Vringas and their men left the capital to rejoin the army south of Bucharest. Aleksios was hunched in his saddle, coughing, with the younger man riding beside him. The raw weather was making his bones ache, and he felt tired and old. The gray, forboding sky matched his mood.

"Apionnas," the Basileus said in a raspy voice, "I am grateful for the assistance you provided during the Senate Session. Without your help, my son would not have been elected Megas."

Apionnas face turned from concern to surprise as he observed his master and the words he spoke.

"My Lord, you do not have to thank me. My service and loyalty is something you must always count on. It was a close race, but I believe your son will do a good job. That is why I voted for him."

Aleksios replied, "Still, I am unsettled. The Patriarch exceeds his station and may have to be dealt with. The Crusade worries me as well. I have no doubt the fervor of our men, but it divides the Empire even more. We're taking on too much perhaps. I can see fault lines forming, cracks in the Empire that may worsen after I'm gone."

The Basileus bowed his head, coughing, as the wind picked up, pelting him with rain.

"Ioannis is now in power. This means the Patriarch and his pet zealots can be contained, prevented them from dominating the affairs of the Empire. A dynamic balance of factions and forces must be maintained to drive the Empire forward, to reforge its greatness and to keep the Komnenoi on the Throne. Anything or anyone that threatens this balance must be neutralized."

Aleksios sighed heavily, "I'm worried that my son is not ready to keep that balance. That once he is Basileus. . .once I am dead, that the fault lines may grow and consume the Empire. I am worried that all I have worked for, all that we have accomplished, will be swept away in a generation."

The younger man's eyes gleamed brightly in the gloom. The intensity of his gaze lost on the reflective mood of his master.

"The Patriarch over played his hand my Lord. Your steady commentary and even tone in the Magnaura was a perfect statement at the time. More than one Senator made comment to me privately in support of your move."

Pausing the younger man considered his next words. The rain increased in its intensity ensuring anyone nearby could not hear their words.

"The Empire is finely balanced, I agree. At this time all possibilities for succession must be investigated to ensure a Komnenoi, and the best Komnenoi, ascends the throne.

"I am at your disposal my lord, what ever you wish me to do you must only ask. My Oath is to the Emperor first and the family second."

The easy gait of his stallion did nothing to affect the steady blue gaze now being directed at the Basileus.

Aleksios did not meet his eyes, he stared off into space, lost in thought.

"It may not always be that way, my friend."

He shook his head and shivered. Turning, the Basileus levelled an appraising look at Apionnas.

"Steps must be taken to ensure the Throne remains with the Komnenoi. When I die, you shall have Sofia. You will have more power, power to ensure the dynasty stays strong."

In response Apionnas bowed low in the saddle.

"You honour me with your trust my Lord.

I will begin my work on this immediately. Do you have a place or person in mind as to where I should start?"

The Basileus shook his head.

"No, this is for the future. For when my son rules. For now, we watch to see if anyone upsets the balance too much. . ."

Lightning flashed across the sky and a clap of thunder soon followed.

"Then we will act."

Privateerkev

07-27-2008, 02:21

This is a co-op by YLC and myself.

Adana: 1111

Makedonios walks down into the cell of the man who attacked him the other night.

The man stuck to the shadows of his cell, not speaking.

With a couple guards in tow, Makedonios walks up to the man, careful to note the length of the chains the man is attached to.

"Alright, has time down here changed your mood?"

Still, the man does not reply.

Careful to first get in a fighting stance, Makedonios steps close enough to get a good look at the man. His guards are right behind him with their hands on their swords.

The man tries to edge his way away from Makdonios's sword, face still hidden.

Makedonios signals for one of his men to get a torch to shine some light in the cell.

"Alright, what is going on?"

The torchlight reveals a much older, unkempt man then Evdaemon. He throws himself to the ground before Makedonios's feet. "Please sire! He said he would kill my family if I did not do as he says!"

Makedonios sheaths his sword and bends down. "Someone get me the keys!"

A guard comes in and hands over the keys. Makedonios reaches down and unshackles the man.

"Don't worry. He can't hurt you now. Let me know where your family is and we'll put them in a safe place."

The man grabs Makedonios by the arm. "Thank you, thank you...they are in the southern quarter of Adana."

Makedonios pulls him up. "Do you know anything about the man who put you in here? How did he get out and how did you get in?"

The man nodded. "Both of them were from the Organization. They replaced the man in this cell by having me disguise myself as a guard. In the cell, I used the keys and he took the disguise, leaving me to be locked up here."

Makedonios nodded. "Alright, well lets get you out of here and get a hot meal in you."

ULC

07-29-2008, 21:03

Constantinople 1111

Co-op done with AG help :yes:

The time and place had been selected months in advance. In that time more than a few incidents had occurred to make this meeting more important than merely keeping an eye on "The Organization".

Waiting patiently in the gloom of hot evening Apionnas toyed with the frayed silver cording on the hilt of his scimitar.

This meeting was certainly going to have more substance to it than he first envisaged.

A dark cloaked man with a red raven emblem appears from the darkest part of the alleyway. "You wanted to speak to us?"

The familiar raised eyebrow was lost on the the figure due to the gloom. The tone of voice more than made up for it.

"That depends entirely on you my friend. Are you Aleksander?"

"And if I was?"

"Then I would know who I'm talking to. I generally prefer that in the conversations I have with people."

The man seems to struggle with something. "I am not Aleksander, although I do know of him..."

"Hmm, well then at least you are aware of my relationship with him...I hope.

Your organization has been implicated in the incident at Iconium. Are you able to confirm this to be the truth or not?"

The man considers for longer this time. "I can confirm it..."

Apionnas shakes his head.

"What exactly is your organisation trying to accomplish? I'm finding it hard to determine from where I am standing?"

The man is about to say something, but suddenly clams up and seems almost gripped in terror.

"What the hell is wrong with you man?! Are you in danger? Are you meant to be here meeting with me?"

Another, very familiar voice speaks up. "The danger he is in is danger he brought about himself. And he will be meeting with whom he is supposed to very soon. Time to atone for your sins, Nikitas."

The cloaked man turned to run as fast as he could, but Ignatios was faster, tackling him to the ground. Ignatios brought up a dagger to strike, screaming. "This symbol does not belong to you! You do not deserve life for what your kind have done!"

Apionnas snakes a hand out and grabs Ignatios's wrist in a vice like grip.

"Stay your hand Ignatios!! Killing him is surely not the way to exact revenge!"

Ignatios gaze refuses to waver from poor Nikitas, who's terror is evident. "I must do this Apionnas, it is not for me that I do this. I must reclaim the symbol he cares, the Red Raven. And he...he has no place in this world."

"Have you lost all your senses. Who compels you to murder someone!? Reclaim the symbol but cold blooded murder is not you Ignatios. Think man, before you do something you may later regret."

With that Apionnas removed his hand from Ignatios' wrist.

Ignatios holds the dagger in the air for awhile before ripping the raven emblem from Nikitas back. "You are not worth it Nikitas...go, die from your own shame." Nikitas fear turns into pure panic and outright cowardice as he begins to run from the alleyway.

Grabbing the older man by his shoulder Apionnas turns him so they are facing each other.

"I wont pretend to know what is going on here Ignatios, but you should certainly consider dropping these games of espionage and sedition. You seem to be on a knife edge and you are clearly not able to keep balance.

If you need assistance I can help you if you wish it?"

Ignatios sighs deeply. "Apionnas, there is much going on...and I wish I could confide in someone. I grow tired of staining my hands Apionnas...but someone must do what I am doing. I cannot allow such people, such traitors, to continue to do what they did at Iconium...will you listen to my story Apionnas?"

Holding the man's gaze for some moments, Apionnas finally releases his grip on the Ignatios.

"I will. But not here. We shall retire to a safe place near here."

Ignatios nods "Agreed."

Ignatios lead Apionnas through the winding streets, and those without a very good sens of direction would have long since been lost. Suddenly Ignatios seems to pick a place at random and enter it. The place he chooses though seems lived in well enough, with a small bed and a neat stack of clothes. Off to one side is a tray with several glass tubes and a what seems to be vile liquids and powders. A belt of throwing knives sits of to one corner.

"We can talk here in private. I am sorry for leading you in circles, but I had to make sure no one was tailing us."

Ignatios sits down and offers the only chair in the place to Apionnas.

"Where shall I begin? With the formation of the Organization or when it went wrong?"

Apionnas remains standing. Leaning against a wall he takes in the room. Turning back he folds his arms.

"Begin with the formation and then what went wrong?"

"It started when I first met Aleksander in Constantinople, near the Da Milano villa with a young girl who he had saved from the fire that had consumed the villa. I watched him for a bit, thinking that I was hidden well enough. When he suddenly left, I decide to step out and check to see if the young girl was okay. Instead, I felt a blade upon my back: Aleksander had doubled back faster and more quietly then I would have ever expected."

"Instead of killing me, he offered me a chance, join his "Organization". I agreed, unknowing he was in fact creating it as he spoke: me and the young girl, Veronica I think was her name, were his first recruits."

"We went on to gather even more people to our cause: protecting the Empire. But to Aleksander, who had seen and heard the apathy and the treacherous tendencies of the nobility...to him, it was the people, the common man, that was the Empire. The first thing we set out to do was rid the Empire of it's rampant underground, and we were successful at first: most of it was all loosely held together or very fractious at best...until we met Markellinos."

"It went downhill fast from there. Markellinos was an army deserter, and he had taken his whole unit with him, and with their experience, they proved difficult to uproot. That is, until we captured Symeon. There was something about the man I did not like, but Aleksander took a liking to him. They thought the same way, acted the same way, even had the same ideals...but there was something more sinister about Symeon."

"I investigated, followed Symeon around. I soon learned he had alternate motives in 1098, when he ransacked the Princess's room. I tried to warn Aleksander, but all he did was chastise Symeon. It wasn't until 1105 that in my attempt to catch Symeon, he tricked me into switching places with him: that is how you captured me. Afterward, I learned that he had soon after went on to rebel against Aleksander in my absence."

"I lost all hope at that moment, not knowing if Aleksander was alive or dead. All I could do was to regain what was lost, and to hunt down the traitorous scum one by one..."

Ignatios takes a death breathe and gets up to get a pitcher of water. He pours himself a glass and drinks from it first. After a few seconds, he then pours a glass and offers it to Apionnas.

Apionnas reaches out and takes the glass. He then slowly places it on the table by the door.

"Go on. Continue."

That was, until I met-" Ignatios pauses for a moment and when he hears a series of knocks at the door. He turns to Apionnas, and brings up a finger to his lips. Ignatios then walks silently over to the door, and with dagger in hand, yanks it open and seizes the man in the door way. "Ignatios! Please! You seem more paranoid everyday! Oh, hello Apionnas, interesting to meet you here." Ignatios releases his grip. "Kyrillos, please, stop doing the knocks in reverse order."

Shaking his head in slight surprise.

"Kyrillos, I'd suggest you start explaining your involvement. You know I can have you removed from Imperial service. My master will not be impressed if he finds out you are not loyal."

As Ignatios moved back to his seat, Kyrillos smiled gleefully. "I thought a man in my profession always had his loyalty in question." Kyrillos made a swift bow to Aponnias. "But, since you ask, I have Imperial Orders to find and locate someone from the Organization for interrogation. As it turns out, Ignatios was only to happy to oblige me, although, I must say, I feel as if he has wrapped me into going on this mad little quest of his..."

Ignatios turns back to glare at Kyrillos. "Enough Kyrillos, why have you come here now? Were you tailing me again? I thought I had detected someone in the alleyway."

"I've heard nothing until now that makes me think this isn't simply some crazed group of subversive nonsense. You've skirted around everything of any substance until now Ignatios. I wont expend anymore time on this endeavour unless that changes now."

Ignatios looks up at Apionnas. "What would you have me do?"

It is clear that Apionnas is becoming increasingly frustrated. He continues in an even tone however.

"Why don't you continue from 'That was, until I met...'

Ignatios looks at Apionnas thoughtfully. "If I tell whom I met, I want you to agree to help him. I also ask that he be is not reported to his immediate lords...I will give my life to protect the trust this man put in me, and I will not break that trust."

"My life is committed to the service of the Basileus. If I regard what I hear as something he needs to be informed about then I am compelled to advise him. That is not something that is ever going to be in question. You must decide if you wish to go further and if there is anything you want from me. To be honest Ignatios I'm not sure if this meeting will be worthwhile for you.

I came to investigate a lead on this organization and I have not seen anything until now that is out of the ordinary or reason for great alarm.

I leave it up to you how to continue."

Ignatios shakes his head. "Then you do not know Symeon as I do. The man will not stop until he has what he wants, and if that means setting fire to every city in the Empire, so be it. I am sure you know of his involvement at Iconium? He plans to do that in as many cities as he can before the Caesars term as Megas is up...and unless he is caught, he will continue to press on."

Ignatios leans back and exhales deeply. "I wish to ask you to do something for me, and in return for this, I will render whatever service you ask: protect Iakovos for me. I owe his brother a debt that I don't think I will ever repay..."

"You're right. I do not know this 'Symeon' at all. If he wishes to continue in his activities as you have outlined then he will find the full might of the Empire directed against him. I doubt he will be able to function effectively if that occurs. He seems to have made a fatal error and that is to be identified clearly as the main antagonist.

As for your request. I already have a responsibility to three people, that will possibly grow. I will do what I can for your colleague, but if things are not as they seem then I can not promise much. If his situation is 'just' and 'true' then I will use all my influence to ensure his safety."

Ignatios smiles wearily. "Thank you for that, it is now one more thing that unburdens me." Ignatios turns to look at Kyrillos. "Since you seem fit to do nothing except eavesdrop, why do you not go and alert our benefactor as to the current situation."

Kyrillos makes to object, but quickly closes his mouth and turns to leave.

"Do I wait here Ignatios? What is the next step in this?"

Ignatios shrugs. "I think it better if you return to the Emperor. If you need me, you can find me. Just ask Kyrillos..."

"Indeed."

And with that the young Saracen officer leaves.

_Tristan_

07-31-2008, 12:48

An offer
Constantinople, 1110

(Done with YourLordandConqueror's approval)

Late into the night, Methodios slowly closed the door to the bedroom where his wife Zoe lay in their bed, with their little girl Hypatia sleeping next to her in her crib. Thinking of the kindness of life to have given him such angels, Methodios silently made his way to his study. Sitting down behind his desk, he went back to studying the maps of the Mediterranean sea.

He remembered how Zoe had taken the news when he told her he would go “Crusading” to Egypt, how she had been afraid of him losing his life on this distant soil. It had taken days of talking to her for Methodios to convince her that it was what he had to do. She finally saw the urge behind Methodios’ motives for leaving and accepted to let him go.

Now, the men had been recruited and the fleet had been commissioned. In a few days, they would set sail on this “Holy Mission”.

Methodios didn’t care one whit for the fact that the mission was presented as Holy by the Patriarch. All he saw was men and women in grave danger of death at the hands of the Caliph, bent on venting his fury on unsuspecting Christians, most of them merchants, craftsmen and farmers, with no means to defend themselves. Defending these people is what drove Methodios to join in the Crusade. And searching the depths of his soul, he knew there was another : a longing for the battles and the feeling of life lived at its fullest that they brought.

Absorbed in the maps and accounts of sailors of the sea routes to Egypt, Methodios was not immediately aware of a subtle change in the room. But gradually, his senses honed by years of living a soldier’s life, he began to feel that the light breeze that came from the open window was less than what it was minutes before. Slowly reaching for the dagger that rested on a corner of a map, he started from his chair, overturning it and in a single pace was at the window and grappling the dark silhouette of the man standing on the threshold of the balcony.

The man moved fast and managed to free himself but Methodios moved faster still and anticipating his opponent’s next move, tripped him and dropped upon him on the floor, pinning his arms with his knees. The man writhed but Methodios’ dagger to his throat stopped him.

“Now, what have we here ? A robber ? A spy ? An assassin ? State your business and fast before I kill you…” Methodios said, inching his blade closer to the man’s throat, drawing a drop of blood.

“Methodios… Please… Stop… I’ll explain…” the man said within gasps.

“Then do it fast… I do not have a reputation for patience…” Methodios warned, surprised at hearing the man calling him by his name.

With a shake of the head, the man pushed away the cowl that had obscured his features until then. Shock made Methodios release his grip on the man and take a step back.

“Aleksander ?” Methodios said in an unbelieving whisper.

Rubbing his wrists, the man slowly stood up. Large of build, with long dark hair, the man still retained some of the youthful innocence that Methodios remembered though it seemed clouded by the knowledge of the world.

“Yes… Methodios… It has been many years since you promised to take me on your next mission, remember ?” Aleksander said, with a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry to have intruded like this but my life is at risk and I must take all steps necessary…”

“Your life at risk ? Coming into my house like this, it surely is… I could have killed you there…” Methodios said, chidingly “But I thought you were dead… Your father, your brother…”

“Yes… I wish I was… Dead with them… But Destiny had something in store for me…”

Methodios relaxed a bit but kept his dagger at hand. Sitting back behind his desk, he motioned Aleksander to sit in the chair in front of the desk.

Once sat, Aleksander started telling Methodios of how he had been away from the army camp, training with his bow when the Turks attacked. Rooted by fear, he had been unable to join in the fighting alongside his father and brother. When the battle had finished, he slowly made his way through the camp and found the bodies of his father and brother. Stricken by grief and shame, he had remained there until Turk soldiers found him and carried him away in chains with some survivors of the massacre.

Aleksander then recounted how he was sold as a slave in a Turkish market but escaped some years later and almost managed to come back to the Empire, only to fall from exhaustion and heat-stroke as he neared Cannakale. The people who found him thought him dead and laid him in a shallow grave by the roadside. On awakening from his stupor, he found himself buried alive and went half mad from it. Gathering the last of his wits, he succeeded in clawing his way out of it. He was found by members of the local underground and taken in.

There, unable to face his mother and brother Iakovos with the shame of what happened during the battle, he merged himself in the underground. He saw how the poor suffered whoever ruled in Constantinople and an idea wormed itself in his head : to unify and use the underground as a tool in the service of the Empire. Slowly, he went up the ranks of the local underground and then took over other gangs until he had the basis for his “Organization”, intent on protecting the empire from whoever threatened it, be it the Emperor himself.

“I have heard of your Organization, Aleksander… I am still unable to believe that you can be in league with such people ? Why have you threatened the Princess’ life and her daughter’s, for God’s sake ? That’s pure villainy…”

“Methodios… I had nothing to do with that… I assure you…” Aleksander pleaded “You must understand… There are forces at work here over which I have no more control…” Aleksander hung his head in his hand.

“I ask nothing but to believe you, Alex… But I’ll need more to believe you…”

“Most of the Organization has been wrenched from my hands like a toy from a babe, Methodios… Now, its members seek my death… All because of misplaced trust…”

Aleksander then told Methodios of how he met Symeon and struck a friendship with the man, of how Symeon slowly wormed his way through the Organization, little by little gaining control, until Aleksander found himself in a minority and with his life at risk for opposing Symeon’s plans for the Organization.

“Methodios, you must believe me… Symeon is a religious fanatic… He has taken over the Organization with only one thing in his mind : spreading the Orthodox faith around the Mediterranean and beyond, whatever the costs in human lives and whatever the means to achieve those ends…”

“And why come to me at this time, Alex ? For protection ? You have it… You can stay here as long as you want… My house is yours…”

“No… If I remained here, you’ll be in danger… Your wife and kid’s life would be put at risk, and that I cannot allow… But I heard you joined the Crusade… I am here to persuade you not to go…”

“Not to go ? And what of all those poor souls condemned to death on a whim by the Caliph ? I can’t stand by idly and wait for them to die… I have to do something… That’s why I’m going…”

“But don’t you see Methodios that you’re playing in Symeon’s hands by going to Egypt ? He’s in league with the Patriarch…” Aleksander said, a concerned look upon his face.

“you’re making that up, aren’t you ?” Methodios said, disbelieving what he just heard.

“No… Though it would be almost impossible to prove… On my honour, Methodios… I speak the truth… The Crusade is only a ploy for the Patriarch to gain power and turn the Empire into some kind of theocracy… Please, do not play his game… Remain here…”

“There is another option, Alex… What if someone were to beat the Crusaders to the finish and refused to recognize the Patriarch’s authority but professed their loyalty to the Emperor… That would throw the plan out of kilter, don’t you agree ?”

“Yes, I suppose it could” Aleksander said, considering. “Would you do it ?”

“I have no love for the Patriarch and I have no love for the God of Christians, though I should perhaps not be telling this… I didn’t join the Crusade as a Holy Soldier but simply to procure help to those beleaguered people in Egypt, the fact that they are Christians is of no matter to me… I know of some people who are in accordance with me though for different reasons… Right now, you stand alone in your fight Aleksander but join us and we could become powerful… Egypt could be our stepping stone… Once we have Egypt, we can start a House and I’m sure our numbers will grow… Then we will be able to defy Symeon and the Patriarch and expose their plans… What say you ?”

“It could work, Methodios… But I’ll have to remain in the shadows… For now, my credibility has suffered through the actions of Symeon… If I came to the light, I would be arrested and thrown in jail…”

“Then maybe you could act as our liaison with the Organization and our contact with the other Houses... And what of Iakovos ? Shall I tell him I saw you ?”

“No, please… Don’t…” Aleksander recoiled as if burned “I’m not ready yet to confront him… I must redeem myself first…” Standing up and walking to the balcony, Alksander added “I must go, Methodios but we’ll meet again before you leave… There is much to do if we want our plan to work…” Putting his cowl over his head, Aleksander takes tow steps on the balcony then vaults over the railing.

Methodios walked to the balcony to see the lone figure of the man crossing the garden and climbing the wall to the street.

“Goodbye… My friend…”

******

Ibn-Khaldun

07-31-2008, 20:42

Somewhere between Constantinople and Thessalonica, 1113

Two shadowy figures approached an abandoned house. Looking around before entering the taller one enters first and after couple of minutes he signals and the other one enters the house. In the far corner of the room a small man sits on a bench.

"This is the man, My Lord" said the tall man.

"So you are Miklos?" asks the other one from the man in the corner.

"Yes, that is me, Lord Laskaris" answers the man.

"Silence! We do not use names here!" shouts the tall man.

"Calm down, Ioannis. There is no one to hear us!" says Efstathios quietly.

"No one that WE can see!" answers Ioannis and looks outside the house from a small and dusty window.

Efstathios smiles. Again he is involved with some suspecios deals. If only other Senators would know what he is doing. He smiles again.

"Now.. Let's talk about the business then.. Did you managed to fulfill your mission?"

"Yes, My Lord. I changed the maps. If the weather stays like it has been past couple of days then they wouldn't notice anything before they reach get near Constantinople!"

Miklos smiles when he thinks about that.

"Good. This will make that Solomon guy think twice before he tries to sabotage us again! Here is your reward!" says Efstathios and hands a small bag of gold to Miklos.

"It is a pleasure to serve you, My Master!" says Miklos while taking the bag. He then bows and leaves from the house.

"Ioannis, we should leave too. We have much to do tomorrow! We need to catch the other Crusaders before they get too far away!"

Ioannis opened the door and making sure that no evil eye is watching them and then nods to Efstathios. The two leaves the house and rush towards their horses that were left a mile from the house hopeing that no brigand have taken them.

TheFlax

08-01-2008, 06:18

((Coop written with YourLordandConqueror and PrivateerKev))

Antioch 1111

Anna paced in her study, often glancing at the window with annoyance. The bad weather made keeping time painfully difficult and she had no idea when Makedonios would arrive. The powerful winds which whistled through the window's small openings did little to improve her disposition.

Juliana looked over at Anna, long since cleaned and now properly dressed. "Your Majesty, is there anything I can do for you? I brought some tea from the kitchen if you like."

Declining with a wave of her hand, Anna stopped and moved to her great wooden desk, brimming with many documents, all neatly arranged in several piles. She took a sheet a absently scanned through it. "Do take some if you want too."

Setting the tray down, Juliana poured herself a cup to sip from. "Your majesty, can you tell me more about Lord Makedonios? What is he like?"

"He is a good and kind man." Anna's gaze left the paper and rose to Juliana. "Are you worried... or merely curious?"

Putting her tea down, Juliana considered Anna's words. "I suppose your Majesty, a little of both. I have heard of the illustrious Order of St. John and of it's leader, but I am not one to take to rumor and prefer to know the truth myself." She smiled at Anna, but her face turned a little worried. "But I also feel trepidation at the thought of speaking of the...Organization. You must understand, it is a death warrant for a commoner to speak of them to the nobles..."

"I trust Makedonios implicitly, so should you. The Organization will never know of your part in this." Anna gave her a reassuring smile. "And should they ever find out, I can ensure your safety."

Juliana nodded respectfully to Anna. "Thank you your Majesty...is there anything I can do for you while we wait for the Grandmaster?"

"No." Anna rose from the desk and moved to a nearby window. "He should be here soon."

Makedonios walked to an apartment he had made available to the Princess in Antioch. He made his way cloaked alone. Well, not really alone, but his men moved in shadows in parallel streets and through the sewers. He also had either bought or purchased all neighboring property next to the apartment the Princess was staying in. Men from his army regiments hid inside. After everything that had been happening lately, Makedonios Ksanthopoulos took no chances.

He entered a nearby building and walked downstairs to a cellar. His men were waiting for him and opened a hidden door that led to a tunnel. Walking underneath the street in the tunnel, he came to the basement of the building the Princess was staying in. He took off his cloak and checked his appearance in a mirror.

Makedonios then strode into the room the Princess and Julianna were staying at, loudly enough so his sudden appearance would not surprise anyone.

At his entrance, Anna turned on herself and smiled.

"It is good to see you again Makedonios." She indicated Juliana. "This is the girl I mentioned, she might be of some help to you."

Makedonios smiled to Anna but kept it measured due to company being in the room.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Highness."

He then turned to Julianna and gave her a nod. "A pleasure to meet you."

Juliana blushed and bowed deeply to the Grandmaster. "Thank you Grandmaster, it is an honor to be in your presence. Your name is on the lips of quite a few of us commoners in the Empire."

Makedonios smiled. "I assure you that any good stories about me have been greatly exaggerated."

He then turned to Anna. "Your Highness, to what do we owe the honor of your company on this fine day?"

Anna moved back to her desk. "I thought you might want to discuss the Organization with her, she has an extraordinary knowledge of them."

His face hardened a bit when he heard the group mentioned. He turned to Julianna with a look of slight disbelief.

"Is this true? Where would you have heard of the Organization?"

Panic crossed Juliana's face, but she relaxed at a nod from Anna. "Yes, I know of them."

Makedonios stood there and patiently waited for Julianna to continue.

Juliana took a deep breath. "They work within the underground, killing off the criminals and any tyrannical ruler...at least, they did. The raven and wolf were symbols they carried were a sign of good tidings and help from the shadows...but now, they have changed. We hear of children disappearing, people losing there homes to fire that could not be put out, families tortured or robbed...it is enough to make one fall down and weep in despair."

When she was done, Makedonios replied.

"Now that second part is more like the Organization I have come to know. I don't buy this talk of some sort of benevolent secret society of thieves that go around helping people. What else do you know?"

Juliana nodded. "I knew one of them personally..he was..was my "client", but we grew close to each other. When the Organization turned, they came for him. I remember him standing defiantly before them, asking if they were out of there minds, how could they betray Aleks like that, and that Ignatios, Kyrillos, Veronica and all the others would come for them. They asked only if he would die for me. When he said yes, they killed him in cold blood and left without another word...forgive me, but I have tried to stay as far away from other Organization members since then..."

Makedonios nodded. "So let me see if I got this straight. The Organization was really a good group led by Alexsander. Then, one day, they became evil."

He turned to the Princess. "Your Highness, you have been the subject of their attentions. What do you think of this?"

Anna paused to ponder what had been said before replying. "I think there is some measure of truth in this story, but painting this group as either "good" or "evil" is somewhat of an oversimplification. Whatever their intentions, I distrust those who feel the need to hide their actions. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss her words. A division in the group will make it easier to get rid of them all."

Makedonios nodded. "That is the conclusion I came to as well. If this group really wanted to be helpful, they wouldn't hide in the shadows. If anything, the 'evil' part of this group is just a natural extension of when you have people who think they can operate outside of the law and society."

Juliana sat back down and then suddenly burst into tears. "Why, why, why?! What made them change? What made Aleksander so hated amongst them?! Why!?"

"Calm yourself, there is no need for tears." Anna spoke the words softly as she moved nearer to the girl. "Now, will you help us... as I helped you?"

Wiping a tear away, Juliana nodded. "Anything your majesty, I can never repay you for what you have already done for me."

"Good." Anna gave the girl a smile. "Now, would you leave us?"

Juliana nodded and walked out of the room, looking back at both Makedonios and Anna only once for reassurance.

Makedonios nodded to Julianna and waited for her to leave before speaking to Anna. Finally, when he was sure she was gone, he turned to the Princess.

"How are you holding up? I've been wanting to talk to you since you appeared in the Senate but I didn't think that would be the right place. I really appreciate what you did. If you hadn't spoken up in the Magnaura, the whole issue might have been swept under the rug."

Anna took once more a serious tone. "I did what I thought had to be done, it is as simple as that."

Makedonios gave her a small smile as he walked across the room to stand a few feet from her. "As usual, your far too modest. You could have stayed quiet. But you faced Hypatios to find out what happened and then you went into the Senate to tell us. Those people might still be dead but the person who ordered their death is now without power, and most importantly, without an army command."

She returned to the window, looking out to the gray clouds. "Now we need only to take care of the accomplices."

Makedonios joined her by the window but kept a respectful distance. "We'll get them. There are a lot of us hunting them now."

Anna glanced at him. "There is another matter." With those word she handed a small scroll to Makedonios.

He looked at the scroll and raises his eyebrow with curiosity. He chuckled a little when he spoke. "You don't give me the easy tasks do you? Well, if it were easy, it probably wouldn't be worth doing. I'll get right on it, Your Highness."

Makedonios then walked over to the candle on the desk and got the flame to catch the scroll. He set it quickly but calmly into the fireplace. He then turned to the Princess. "Is there anything else you need from me or wish to discuss?"

"No, there is nothing else of import." Anna gave him a soft smile. "But, I would appreciative if you stayed a while longer."

Warmed by her show of friendliness, Makedonios walked back over to her and leaned against the wall a few feet from her. "I'm always happy and honored to spend time with you. But I know you are always quite busy so I do my best to not take up much of your time."

"Well today," Her smile became playful. "I am yours for as long as you have the time to spare."

Makedonios' eyes went wide as his mind immediately flooded with thoughts that were less-than-pure. In his shock, some saliva went down his airpipe and he started coughing. Walking over to the desk, he took a glass and filled it with water from the pitcher. Taking a few gulps, the coughing subsided. He then walked back to his spot.

"Sorry about that Your Highness. I'm afraid I never totally got rid of this dreaded illness. Now, is there anything in particular you wish to discuss? I miss our talks on politics and history. Like you, I have the whole day free and would love to enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Anna's smile diminished as her voice became nostalgic. "I miss the sea and the beach, where you took me so long ago."

Makedonios' smile shrank but did not completely disappear. "I remember that day well. It is not an exaggeration to say that was the happiest day of my life. Seems like almost a lifetime ago." At that, his smile was gone. "I was so naive and innocent back then. I had life all figured out. I thought my Holy Mission would receive full support from the Senate." His expression then changed to one of hurt. "And I thought finding one's feelings and expressing them would be enough..." He left the sentence hanging as he realized what it was that he was saying.

"You blame me?" Her tone was measured, containing no hint of accusation.

His eyes showed genuine surprise. "No, I blame your father. I naively thought that caring about someone, and having them care about me would be enough to reach even his cold heart. But I severely underestimated the politics of the situation and his deep seated insecurity regarding the health of his dynasty."

Shaking his head, he continued. "So no, I don't blame you at all. I'm sorry for going into such a depressing topic but you brought up that night at the beach. It was a happy time but it was also the last gasp of boyish innocence. After that night, the cruel hard world of Byzantine politics was made very clear to me in a way I that has still left my head shaking at the sheer lack of human compassion."

Anna diverted her gaze away from Makedonios, as if in shame. "I should not have brought up the past like this, it was inconsiderate of me."

Makedonios shrugged. "Well, not talking about it hasn't seemed to do us any good either. I don't think it was inconsiderate at all. This issue has been broiling under the surface for years. Neither of our lives went the way we wanted. And while you have passed the situation off as you doing your duty, that does little to negate the fact that our situation was brought about because of someone's petty fear."

His features hardened. "So while I have done my best to accept this situation, I admit, something has indeed changed in me. My eyes are now wide open to the cruelness in the Senate. Maybe I latch on to the memory of the beach because it signified a time when I still believed that love could indeed conquer all." After the last, he looked down, obviously saddened.

"I.." Her countenance remained unreadable, yet her fluttering eyes conveyed a flurry of emotions. Anna moved closer to Makedonios, each of her step hesitant, until she halted abruptly and deviated her trajectory, ending up slightly behind him. "I am felling unwell, perhaps it would be best if you left Makedonios. We will resume this meeting at a later date." Her voice, although calm and soft as usual, could also be perceived as shaky.

He swallowed hard and turned to face her. "Of course Your Highness. I thank you for your time." He stared at her for a moment wishing to say and do more. "I will keep in touch regarding that matter. Take care."

With that, he started to leave but gave the Princess a moment to say something.

Anna kept her back to him as she moved tensely to her desk, not daring to look upon him as he left. Only once he was gone did her body relax with a sigh. She sat at her desk, but found herself unable to enter a state of mind appropriate for writing, her swirling emotions keeping her agitated until she retired to bed in the late night.

GeneralHankerchief

08-02-2008, 16:00

Cairo, 1114

So. The Crusade was coming. His soldiers, his people, had dodged a spear thrust when the Catholics had taken up the Cross and began marching on independent Jerusalem some years back, but it was not to be twice. Now, that devilish offspring the Patriarch of Constantinople had ordered that the Byzantine forces concentrate and strike like a dagger in the very heart of his lands: Cairo itself. The Caliph cursed himself. The Great Schism, splitting Catholicism and Orthodoxy, was supposed to weaken the Christian faith. It was supposed to benefit his people! Instead, what had happened was that when one spiritual leader focused his efforts on one particular area, the Caliph was not out of the woods yet, for he had to worry about the second leader’s whims. Curse the luck!

Clutching a translated copy of Nicholas’s Proclamation of 1110, he read it again in anger. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for that Vissarionas ek Lesvou escaping the city and making his way back to that temple of perfume and heresy, Constantinople, where he proceeded to loosen his tongue faster than a snake uncoiled when it was ready to strike prey.

The Proclamation spoke truth, yes. But, as the Greeks were so adept at doing, the truth was manipulated to serve their own causes. Yes, the monasteries were to be destroyed. Yes, the city was to be purged. But it was to save further bloodshed. The Caliph recalled the meeting with his advisors, that fateful meeting back in 1108, which he surmised someone had overheard and tipped this Vissarionas off, all too well:

It had started off normally enough. The Caliph, his viziers, and the other advisors were meeting in the usual chamber, discussing mundane events such as finances and minor campaigns. After some time, though, the topic had changed to a more contentious subject matter.

“Your Excellency,” said the Grand Vizier, “I believe it is now time to discuss the matter I had briefed you on earlier.”

“Yes,” said the Caliph, speaking in his usual deep, rich, self-assured voice, the voice of someone used to being listened to and respected. “The Grand Vizier recently received this letter and passed it onto me. The author is anonymous, but it is only because of that that I take this threat so seriously.”

“What does the letter speak of, Excellency?” asked a lesser advisor.

“I will now read directly from it,” said the Caliph, “for it is short and concise.” He cleared his throat and began reading out loud.

Excellency,

As someone concerned with the welfare of the people of Cairo, not to mention your continued blessed rule, the duty falls upon me to inform you of a nefarious plot being hatched by the Christians living in your very city. You have probably already heard of this, for you are wise and your gaze sees far, but if you have not, then consider yourself lucky that you did not go uninformed for any longer.

The plot concerns the Christians of Cairo rising up in armed rebellion. They aim to kill as many Muslims as they can and are specifically targeting the ruling class of Cairo: i.e. you, your family, and your advisors.

Under the leadership of one Vissarionas ek Lesvou, an Orthodox Greek currently living in the Christian quarters of the city, the rebels intend to use the ancient monasteries of Paul the Hermit and the like as a rally point to attract like-minded men from all over the Caliphate. Once a sufficient number of sympathizers have been recruited, they aim to march into the city and do what mobs do best. They will not stop until every single man, woman, and child in Cairo is nothing more than a stinking, smoldering, corpse.

I am not one to tell you how to act, Excellency, and I trust you will do so competently. I am just informing you of what certain people plan to execute under your watch.

Anonymous

“In addition to the letter, the author is so kind as to print this Vissarionas’s address below,” the Caliph finished.

“The Caliph and I both believe this man’s integrity,” the Grand Vizier said, “as do we the plan described. Frankly, the Gnostic and Coptic sects living in the city have been too quiet now for a while, as if they were plotting something. Here is the proof.”

“Obviously, there will be repercussions to this,” said the Caliph, “and they will be severe. We will start by depriving these rebels of a rallying point.”

“The ancient monasteries?” A lesser advisor now spoke up. “How interesting. Are we sure we want to proceed with this?”

“Absolutely,” said the Caliph. “I cannot allow this sort of thing to happen, after all. Yes, the ancient monasteries are to be destroyed immediately, the ones that are still standing. I've left them up for far too long as it is. This land, Allah be praised, has long been purged of heathen control.”

Everyone was silent, waiting for the Caliph to finish his thought.

“I think it’s time I finished the job. Clearly, any Christian influence in these lands, even a weak one, is blasphemous and ultimately detrimental to the good Children of Allah. It's time that we start following Sharia more closely.”

“What do you suggest, Your Excellency?”

“Expel some Christians from Cairo. Kill the rest. And make certain we expel those after we kill the others, so that the expelled know never to return. From now on, there will be no place for Christians of any denomination in Cairo.”

The advisors were silent for a minute, then departed, all bowing to the Caliph before doing so. Soon it was just him and the Grand Vizier in the room.

“Send five soldiers to the address on the letter as well,” he ordered the Vizier. “If Vissarionas is identified then have them kill him on sight. This rebellion will be crushed before it has the chance to even begin.”

The Vizier, nodding, bowed and followed the other advisors out of the chamber, signaling the end of the meeting.

Yes, someone had tipped Vissarionas off about his move, just like someone had tipped him off about the rebellion. Aliya was the first suspect, of course; after all, it was through her that he was granted access to the Palace in the first place. “Greek tutor,” he had been. Bah! In the Caliph’s mind, the only thing worse than an infidelious relationship was a treasonous one, and he suspected Aliya and Vissarionas had been in both. She had first proclaimed innocence and ignorance again and again, and then, when sensing fate was not on her side, had managed to charm him just enough to make him hesitate ordering her arrest, time which she used to climb out one of the windows of the Palace and disappear.

However, the past was past. The Caliph, unfortunately, was stuck in the trying present, with numerous Byzantine forces incoming and hell-bent on taking his capital. He would have to react. He would have to counter.

And would defense be enough? Should his forces perform as true soldiers of the Caliphate should, the Greeks would be deprived of a great many men and nobles, leaving them gutted at home. Would it be enough, though? When Vissarionas ek Lesvou sought refuge in Constantinople itself after his flight from Cairo? Of course not.

The Caliph drew inspiration from the two swordsmen, always fighting. When one lunged in a desperate attack, and it went either wide or was parried away, the attacker was always left out of position. In this situation, any good blademaster would always follow up the defense with a punishing counter-attack. More often than not these moves would be successful enough to end the fight.

Yes, the Byzantines were lunging. And in doing so, they were leaving themselves very vulnerable. For lunging, for threatening first through arousal of rebellion and then through outright war, the very Muslim way of life, they were vulnerable. And they would thus be subject to the most ferocious counter-attack the Caliph could offer.

It was time for a Jihad.

OOC: Welcome to Part 2 of the 3rd in-game event. Now those people who didn’t go on Crusade will definitely have something to do.

Ibn-Khaldun

08-02-2008, 17:49

Co-op with woad&fangs :yes:

Near the coast of Anatolia, 1114

A large rowboat approaches Efstathios' flagship. On the boat are 10 men, all carrying short swords. A shortish man with brown hair and eyes stands and shouts at your quarterdeck.

"LASKARIS!!! Show yourself!"

Efstathios looks at the rowboat and seeing the armed men inside signals his crusaders who take their weapons and take their positions to defend the ship if it is necessary.
After that he says calmly..

"I am here. What is the purpose of this 'visit'?" he asks.

"I've came to inform you that we caught the rat who has been sabotaging us. After some, 'aggressive interrogation' he squealed out the name of his master."

At Solomon's signal a body, tightly wrapped in cloth was revealed.

"I thought you would be interested to see the execution of your man"

Two of Solomons men then dump the body into the sea and watch it sink. If only Efstathios would know that there were only some rocks and straws in it.

"What an interesting entertainment. I suppose this is the way you like to entertain your men.
Oh well.. This happens if you interact with the men like Monomachos."

Saying that he stayed calm. Not one muscle moved in his face when he saw that poor man falling into the deep water.

Solomon glares at Laskaris

"Do not insult my friend. Your quarrel is with me and me alone. Not my friends, not my men, just me. Your neck would already be removed from your body for the sea charts fiasco if Makedonios hadn't ordered me to stay my hand. Now however, the slipknot your assassin used endangered not only me but every man who sails with me. I have a duty to see them safely to Aegyptus. If you ever endanger my men again I promise that I will drink from your skull"

"Do not give promises that you can't keep!" says Efstathios with annoyed voice.

Signaling couple of sailors he says..

"Also.. As long as I remember I have never used an assassin. Perhaps a spies but never assassins!" he smiles while saying that.

Looks at the sailors he nods and the men crab crossbows and point them to Annios.

Laughing

"By all means Laskaris, strike me down here and now. Show the empire what kind of man you really are.

You may call your agents whatever you wish, but to me a man who attempts murder for an employer is an assassin. Whether he attacks with a knife or slipknots matters little to me."

"Oh.. you misunderstood my attentions. I do not want to kill you. My men are protecting you from .. umm .. dangerous flying fish... They are really mean in these parts of the world! Although it would be a sad moment if one of those arrows miss the target and hit you!"

Efstathios smiles fiendishly...

"And I think that Empire knows what kind of man I am. A peaceful man. A smart man. Smart enough not to go threaten someone with just 10 men to support me!"

"Dear Laskaris, you misunderstand my intentions. We are only armed to protect ourselves from those dangerous flying fish you speak of. Of course, it would be a shame if one of my men missed and hit you!

Solomon's men grab crossbows lying on the floor of the boat and raise them in Laskaris' direction.

Solomon smiles fiendishly back at Laskaris

"Hmm.. Looks like it's time for tea. You can stay here and 'hunt' those 'flying fish' if you like. But I have to say that my men aren't that accurate and they probably miss the fish and hit 'something' bigger instead."

Saying that Laskaris turns and walks towards the captains room.

"Just remember my promise, Laskaris..."

Solomon's boat rows away

00jebus

08-03-2008, 16:23

Co-op with Ituralde

Trebizond, 1113

Lisas Attaliedas entered the castle through the west gate, and was uplifted by what he saw.
He had been granted the province just a few short years before, and thought it would be a backwater, but everywhere he looked there were workmen, building homes, carrying wood and just generally improving the town, as in the older part, Lisas saw dwelling that were little more than mud huts.
He’d been invited here by Pavlos Chrysovergos, his lord, who he would be meeting for the first time.
When he asked the sergeant in charge of the gate where he way, he pointed in the vague direction of the castle, grinning “just a little way up there sir”.
Lisas assumed the grin was this sergeant’s idea of friendliness and smiled back.

On the way to the keep, he got slightly distracted in the way of an arrow landing in front of him, kicking up some mud onto his boots, looking to the right he saw several wooden manikins with target rings on their chests, the worse part was that the targets were facing him.

Anger surged through him as he snatched the arrow up and marched, bodyguards in tow, into the building and behind the group of what he hoped were new recruits, who were all looking longingly at their targets, barely a single arrow disturbed the ground in the middle of the range and the targets stood in perfect condition, all less than 100 feet away.
The anger grew, he looked at the recruits, all had self bows, one had a bow that was far too big for him and only the welsh (whoever they are) are stupid enough to use, several more had what were clearly child’s toys (barely thicker than a finger) a few didn’t have strings, one or two hadn’t even bothered to bring arrows, their captain, a man whose face seemed to ask why he was being punished with this group, was praying or bargaining with God, Lisas caught the last few words
”….so please God, let them not have to do anything important or difficult, cause if they do they’ll all end up in your graces, and not even the most patient of saints could bear this lot for long, amen”
behind him, a man loosened an arrow and caught his cheek with the drawstring, he recoiled as though punched in the face as his arrow went flying over the back wall.
Lisas called for practise to stop
”May god have mercy on the empire, that was terrible, how many arrows have you released today?”
the captain stood up, tears in his eyes, as though his prayers had been answered.
”Sir, I apologise, these men have only had a weeks….”
”A weeks practise!, half of them don’t even have bow strings! No-one has hit the target! One of you almost hit me and I was behind the range! You act like that in battle with the Turks and they won’t even bother to fight! And they’ll still win! Your mothers must be ashamed and your fathers probably pretend you don’t belong to them! Christ almighty I don’t think I’ve ever seen something that bad! And I’ve seen what passes for an order of St. John drinking contest!”
”Which is why I’ve put in for transfer” muttered the captain
”this is how you do it” Lisas demonstrated with his own compound bow, putting an arrow clean through the neck of the furthest target….. Some 80ft away
”that’s barely over 60 feet, you all have one week to be able to do the same, or I’ll have you used as live targets for a group with some semblance of skill!...and I’ll have them use javelins! They can hit a target at 60 feet, you cannot hit a target!
John, stay behind and make sure that I don’t have to do that” The indicated man began unwrapping his own bow and looked at the group with disgust.

Lisas and the rest of his guards left the group with some very forlorn looking faces, one of his guards turned to him “Sir, are we in the right city?” two large Komnendoukai banners floated from the top of the keep mid way down it towers.
”what? Of course we are…why would you say that?”
”well sir its just, archers from trebizond are supposed to be amazing aren’t they? And they… looked like they’d never even seen a bow before.”
”well.. after manzikert most of the veterans and trainers spread out across the empire, the kingdom of Pontus that Domestikos Chrysovergos defeated barely had any skilled archers so I’m presuming they didn’t let the traditions carry on” Lisas gave his name to a guard who opened the keeps main door for him “that’s high on my list of stuff to do, get the traditions of archery and some trainers back”

Once inside the keep the castle steward greeted them, gave directions to Lisas’ room for his guards to take his baggage too, and the little assembly room (a passing maid grinned) where he would meet Domestikos Chrysovergos.

Lisas entered the room, took sight of Pavlos and bowed, whilst looking at the floor he smiled; the man was a head shorter than Lisas, who was just under average height himself.
”this explains a lot” he thought “people must respect him not to make jokes to his face, maybe I can learn from this guy”
but he said out loud, after rising from his bow, remembering to keep his face impassive.
”Sir, I am Comes Lisas Attaliedas, reporting as ordered.”
Pavlos was obviously expecting his guest. On the small table in front of him stood two wine goblets and an empty chair was set to face him. His gaze fell on Lisas shortly after he entered and his grim expression hasn't changed an inch since then.

"Comes Lisas Attelaiatas welcome to Trebizond! Welcome to the Pontic frontier! It is good to finally see you outside the bustle of the bloody Senate. You look young to me, what year where you born?"

Frowning slightly he turned his head to one side and looked the man up and down.

Lisas was slightly taken aback by the question, though he didn't show it

"I'm unsure sir, my mother says it was the 1060th year of our lord, and I was 11 when I heard the news of the disaster at Manzikert, though since then I seem to have aged most gracefully since I turned 16."

he took the seat that was offered, and noticed it was specially made so Lisas now sat below Pavlos.

"Ah, this particular vintage is from Caffa I think, I confess I'm impressed, it usually doesn't make it out of the crimea or Constantinople"

Lisas announced, gingerly sniffing the bottle.
"1060. You realize that the sum of those digits is Seven, which is considered by many to be a lucky number. Also just this morning a flock of raven circled the Castles Eastern wall three times." He looks long at Lisas as though this should mean something to him.

"It is indeed from Caffa, I don't know if you are familiar with the history of this place but Trebizond used to be an important trade hub. Many trade routes from the East ended here, from where goods of the known world were shipped on to Constantinople."

"I haven't sent for you to talk about the quality of wine though, however bloody fine it is. The internal structures of the Komnenodoukai have led to you swearing that Oath to me, let's be honest about that. You don't know me, I hardly know you yet between the two of us we find ourselves rulers of the once great Pontus!"

Taking the goblet in front of him, Pavlos takes a sip, a brief smile passing over his features, before he returns to watching Lisas with his usual grim expression.

"Tell me Lisas Attaleiatas, what kind of man are you?"
Lisas took a momment to compose himself, ravens and numerology? maybe, he thought, that this man waas just a weird old mountain man that paid too much attention to bird entrails, maybe he was testing him, he looked Pavlos straight in the eye, "A rational one." he took a sip of wine before continuing
"If you want me to sum up my political position, then I believe in a strong and clear constitution, with focus on maintaining the spirit of the law, instead of needlessly punishing people for accidents but definate punishment for deliberate breaks, like Hypathos at Iconium, other than that, I feel that so long as a senetor doesn't harm the empire, he should be able to do anything he likes, and should he need to break the law for the greater good of the empire, than he should without question"
he paused taking another sip,
"I also feel that every man has a vice, should it not be drinking" he lifted his goblet "or whoring, like half my retunie, than he's not to be trusted, cause then he either preferes the conpany of men, the taste of that muslim drink, sneaking around in the night with another mans wife, or some other odd vice" he finished, answering what he hoped pavlos was going to ask.

He finished his goblet, it was actually quite sweet, he could definantly taste a trace of honey in there, and poured himself another one, starting on it as soon as the bottle was set down.

"If your wondering about my military views, then consider myself a flanker, I'm the son of a cavalry officer, and I read some of my dad's books in my youth.
I think our current reliance on mercinaries is a mistake and the empire should invest more in producing its own troops, heavy cavalry deffinantly, when I eventially get my own army, I dont want to get stuck commanding a bunch of nomads for my cavalry arm, they smell funny
other than that, I think that discipline will eventually win out over disorganised troops and armies every time, provided even numbers.
I think all that, gives you a good enough summary of what I'm like"

He decided to leave out the part about shouting at the group of archers in training earlier, something told him Pavlos wouldn't have just let them get away with a telling off.
Pavlos had done little else but sip at his wine while listening to the exploits of the younger man in front of him. Once he has finished he nods slowly and then rises. He walks over to a small window through which the surrounding countryside can be seen. Clasping his hands behind his back and gazing out he starts to speak.

"Do you know about the history of Pontus? It was always considered to be a place apart. Since the earliest times this has been an outpost of Greek civilization, strong but far removed from the centers of power. Many historians referred to these parts as barbaric, their institutions to be outdated, their feudal structures to be the first sign of failure."

"My ancestors were born in these lands, they have lived in these lands, and they died for these lands! Imperial intrigue always happened, but Pontus was apart. Still it didn't help in the aftermath of the bloody desaster that was Manzikert. We were left without help and overrun. You know, our Emperor Aleksios Komnenos, he was a military leader from the Black Sea Coast. He has given much to the Empire, his reforms have made us strong again. We rule again what we are meant to rule!"

He turns fromt he window to look at Lisas.

"This is why I follow this man, why I am part of a House that bears his name. We have the support of Constantinople now and Pontus is secure. But we both know that this will not last forever. Politics will cost their toll again, already the Senate is place for bickering fools that are only concerned with themselves. There might come a time, when the support from Constantinople fails, and Pontus will once again be part of the Empire but apart. I am sure that when such a time comes you will know where your true loyalties lie?"
Lisas listened intently on the history of the province, history being one of his hobbies since childhood.

"Yes, loyalty and trust is such a precious thing these days, you may rest assured though, that my loyalty lies firstly with the empire and the emperor, then to my family, then to the other senetors.
I do hope such a time doesn't come, as I know full well that its likely the komnenodoukai that will be attacked, I wont shrink from my duty if that happens, thankfully it doesn't seem likely for a few years, we have more pressing problems than the danger of a civil war for now, the crusade has left the empire weakened and the turks, though broken, are not yet beaten"
Pavlos nods slowly once again, seeming to turn the word of the man over in his mind.

"These halls have been walked by Greeks for centuries and I intent to make sure it stays that way. I am loyal to the Empire and the Emperor, but my duty will always lie with my people first." With a gesture he encompasses the surroundings. "These people. I trust you will take care of them while I'm gone on campaign. You vowed to make this a great fortress and I trust you to keep your word. Between Sinops rich markets and Trebizonds secure walls many people can prosper and I will make sure they do."

His gaze lingers on the man in front of him for a moment. Could he trust the man in front of him should a second Manzikert occur or was he dragging himself deep into Imperial intrigues?

"I'm sure you will do well. You may go now Lisas Attelaiatas, Comes of Trebizond!"

”Thank you sir” Lisas drained his goblet, and left through the door he entered, one he way out he found the steward, “how was he?”, asked the steward
”Just a little drunk” replied Lisas, smiling
”I’m sure you’ll fit right in” grinned the steward.

GeneralHankerchief

08-03-2008, 17:45

Constantinople, 1116

The Offices of the Patriarch of Constantinople were marked as such; a fairly large, elaborate building located somewhere away from the Basileus’s, closer to a large cluster of churches. A Byzantine eagle was present on the building, as was the Patriarchal seal also present on all official proclamations made by Nicholas III. In contrast to the “open-door” policy common among the churches, the Offices were closely guarded. If one was to walk through the front doors, they would find themselves accosted by multiple guards, perhaps half a dozen, asking them their business in this place. Most were turned away. Repeat offenders would be thrown back onto the streets, sporting a few wounds.

Inside, the corridors of the place were a maze, with twisting hallways, numerous dead ends, and not-at-all conveniently-placed staircases, some of them on opposite sides of the building. The halls were also sparsely lit, devoid of windows and artwork. This was done to create and further the impressions of size and sameness. The door to Nicholas’s actual office was relatively inconspicuous, with the only distinguishing feature being a subtle carving of the Patriarchal seal on it.

All of it - the guards, the layout, the Spartan-ness of the hallways – was done so intentionally, to fit in with the motifs that the Patriarch had wanted: mystique, inaccessibility. Was this where the Patriarch worked? Yes. Did you know it? Yes. Did you have any chance of getting in and getting an audience with him? Not on your life. Enter not this building, for inside resides the man whom God Himself speaks through.

The Patriarch’s actual office was more traditional, but then again, it was not known or appreciated or viewed as a sign of relief amongst the population of Constantinople, for the people who made it inside actually had business doing so in the first place. It was moderately-sized, much better lit, and had a number of adornments on its wall: A fragment of the True Cross, a woodcut of Jesus’s miracle at Cana, a painting of Constantine founding the city. There was a rumor that, hidden in the Patriarch’s desk, was the Titulus Crucis itself: The plaque that read “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews”, or INRI for short, but that was the stuff of hearsay, never to be confirmed.

Then, there was the man inside the office. Despite the power of his position, he was another one who had rarely been seen, and that was exactly the way he wanted it. He communicated almost exclusively through the written word, whether it be books, letters, or the Proclamations that the Senators of the Magnaura were now familiar with. If there was arguing to be done, his Representative (hand-selected, finely trained in the art of debate, among other areas) was there to do it – provided he wasn’t banned from the Magnaura by the Basileus.

Oh sure, there had been many requests for the Patriarch over the years, whether it be public appearances or private meetings. The Senators especially had wished for his presence. Meetings for general strategy? Requests for personal approval of charters of Orders? Go down to Athens to bless a church and then discuss the weather afterwards? Coronations of the unimportant? He had turned them all down – politely – and with good reason. The meetings, the blessing especially – they were the job of some two-bit mayor of a fishing village announcing the official opening of a market, not God’s representative on Earth!

No, the Patriarch had decided long ago, the Senators had just wanted them to use him as leverage. Get into a disagreement with me, will you? Well, I have the Patriarch on my side! This became quite evident in the Session of 1081, when his Proclamation was read, deemed “interesting”, and promptly forgotten. Words from such a man were not to be treated as such. It was only until Nicholas had offered a reward of exquisite armor did people follow his agenda.

Most of the Houses respected his position, but that was it. His words were taken merely as suggestions, weighted only as much as some lowly Strator’s, and not thoroughly studied as they deserved to be. Certainly, at least one House listened, but the Patriarch knew this was only because the Order of St. John’s goals, so far, had lined up with his. Had he pointed his finger west at Rome instead of east at Cairo and the Levant, he was certain that Grandmaster Ksanthopoulos would still argue to head to Antioch and pronounce his own reasoning correct.

It was after that Session of 1081 that the Patriarch made two decisions. First of all, considering the response to his words, he would become perhaps the most inaccessible man in the world. This was a success. The only audience that had been granted over the years with the Senators was with Vissarionas ek Lesvou, and that was only because the Patriarch had requested it in order to hear what his man had learned before he fled Cairo. Nicholas’s words would be few and far between, and as a result they would be more listened to. If the people of Byzantium wanted wisdom, they would have to first prove themselves worthy of receiving it.

His second decision was more an opinion of the overall situation than a course of action. In short, he decided that the Orthodox people, his flock, suffered from a severe lack of faith.

All of them focused on political gain rather than spiritual improvement. People wishing to destroy innocent lives in newly-conquered cities just to add to their already-wealthy coffers. Wishing to conquer land, not because it would mean more people would be saved, but because it would give them more power. Not even the royalty was spared from it. The Basileus’s whorish daughter, fancying herself to what appeared to be half the Empire. The Caesar, all but announcing his total disdain for the Crusade and instead focusing his attention on pleasing his supporters. Even the Basileus himself, taking priests along in offensive campaigns, converting the populace for public order reasons, not because it was simply the right thing to do. Yes, the Byzantine Empire was in desperate need of an injection of faith.

And who better to give it to them than their spiritual leader? He had sat and waited, establishing his reputation as a man who needed to be listened to on the few occasions he spoke, and then found an opening. In 1095, shortly after the close of that year’s Magnaura session, a young man, a Strator and Sergeant of the Order of St. John, had written to him, begging for penance to make up for his role in the sacking of Antioch. The Patriarch, sensing Vissarionas’s eagerness and willingness to do anything to erase the stain, quickly thought up a plan that would accomplish several things at once.

The boy was sent to Cairo, under vague instructions to work his way into the city environment and get far into the governmental proceedings. Hungry for redemption, he was eager enough to do anything. It was only a matter of when. Thus, the Patriarch began to wait.

Over the years, he had received numerous letters from Vissarionas, most of them long-winded and woefully uninformative things which said nothing of value. These were not letters to Mother, they were reports! It would have been much more efficient to say “no progress yet, am trying a different approach”. And so the Patriarch had waited still, occasionally replying with letters of encouragement.

Finally, in 1107, the boy had sent him something worthy. He had informed the Patriarch that he had made contact with one of the Caliph’s concubines, or perhaps the Caliph’s very favorite one, and now had access to the palace in Cairo as a result of his being her Greek tutor. Very soon, the spying would begin.

The Patriarch had then drafted the letter, informing the Caliph of a terrible Christian plot to rise up, form an army, and kill every single Muslim they could, with one Vissarionas ek Lesvou as the mastermind. It was all a hunk of lies, of course, but the Caliph, already a paranoid soul, didn’t need to know that. He would, naturally, overreact. To add credence to the letter, the Patriarch also put Vissarionas’s address in as a post-script, information gleaned from the boy’s many letters. The infernal things were finally good for something.

Naturally, this put Vissarionas at a great risk, but the Patriarch was confident in the boy’s ability to escape. Even if he perished, there would be no great loss, as he had other agents present in the city. His backups were unneeded, though, as Vissarionas had landed in Constantinople right before the Magnaura session, just in time to tell Nicholas of all the horrors that were about to transpire in Cairo.

The plan had worked perfectly, of course. As the Patriarch predicted, the Caliph had taken the bait and then some, highly overreacting to the point where he was ready to commit genocide. According to Vissarionas, it was fated that most of the Coptics and Gnostic residents of Cairo would soon die horrible deaths, not to mention the fact that the ancient monasteries were about to be torn down; material for outrage great enough to spur even the regrettably irreligious Senators into action. Nicholas cared little if there were any actual deaths among the Gnostics and Coptics. As far as he was concerned, they were heretical sects, only marginally better than the Muslims and no threat, unlike the Catholics to the west. Martyrdom would serve them better than life ever did. Besides, if the greatest man in history, Christ the Savior, had become a martyr, then surely some good-for-nothing breakaway sects could do it as well.

And so it was: The Crusaders were off, about to pass the point of no return on their mission. Naturally, the Muslims picked that time, the time when the Greeks were most vulnerable, to call their Jihad. The Patriarch was not surprised in the least; he had expected it, after all. More than that – he had planned it. What was once a muddled bunch of ideas in 1081 and a fuzzy outline after Vissarionas had written him in 1095 was now a clear and sharp strategy. Everyone was playing their parts, including the Caliph, whether he knew it or not. Of course he would call Jihad based on a perceived attack on his faith. The malleable fool was still under the impression that there was to be an organized uprising in his capital city, grounds enough to warrant the actions he took.

Yes, the Jihad would come – that wasn’t the important part. The important part was that it would be fought off (for that, the Patriarch had no doubt; he knew the fighting prowess of the Greek soldiers). The Orthodox faith would be defended when it mattered most, when the Patriarch had assured all it would be. Combine that with the undoubtedly to-be-successful Crusade, and all of sudden there would be two great, two massive, two enormous victories for Orthodoxy.

Then, maybe then, the Senators would realize the power of religion. Then, there would be a great swell of faith among the elite. Then, they would do the right things for the right reasons. Then, the wisdom of the Patriarch would go unquestioned and his detractors would be rightly ostracized.

Then, Orthodoxy would reign supreme.

Patriarch Nicholas III sat in his office, shut off from the rest of the world, dreaming of the utopian future he had set into motion.

Privateerkev

08-03-2008, 18:02

Co-op with Cecil.

Antioch 1114:

Armatos walks into Makedonios's command tent after the battle. The Grandmaster is yet again stuck in bed. Coughing into a napkin, he looks up as Armatos walks in and smiles.

"Ah Armatos! That was amazing work out there! We've yet again saved the city. I don't think the Fatimids will be sending raiding parties around here anytime soon."

Armatos saluted. "Thank you, Grandmaster." His features soon softened, and began to show signs of concern. "Grandmaster, were you injured in the battle?"

Makedonios shook his head in exasperation. "No, it's that dreadful sickness again. I never spent enough time resting." He coughs into a napkin.

"I've been thinking. I really need to take some time off. I've got to get over this once and for all. I want you to take over the army. I'm going back to Antioch to get some more rest. You basically have 2 choices. Either, this will remain my army and you'll simply command it. Or, this can be your army and the new one will be mine. It really doesn't matter which as long as we both have the paperwork clear. Because of the Caesar's naval movements, the new army won't be delivered for a few years anyways."

He pauses as he coughs again. "Your fully supplied. It's time for you to have your own command anyways. Which option do you want to do?"

Armatos thought for a moment.

"It would be easier for both of us logistically if this became my army. As for targets...

I'd like to weaken the Fatamids by marching to Gaza. Damascus is too full of heathens to be occupied without risking riots and other losses of life, and you'd be able to get back into the field quicker if you were looking northwards."

Makedonios nodded. "Then your army it is. Update your 'status and orders' to reflect this. I'll do the same. The army is now yours. The one that forms will be mine. As for orders, we have rebels up in north-east Antioch that I'd like to see dispatched. With the rumors of Jihad coming, I'd like to keep you close to Antioch for now. Send Nathanail and a horse archer unit to Antioch. Take the rest and go after those rebels."

Armatos saluted. "As you command, Grandmaster."

Makedonios nodded. "Dismissed. God be with you and good luck."

Smowz

08-04-2008, 15:02

Nevoulas the archaeologist

Whilst the empire was battling rebels, launching blistering campaigns against the turks and moving swiftly on, little has been heard of the emotionally torn Nevoulas ek Philadelphius .

Following the hard fought political votes in the second senate, Nevoulas simply vanished completely from the political sphere. His reasons are clouded, never one to toast the spotlight the desperate (and in truth hasty) plea to attack the Seljuk sultanate had one him friends and enemies in equal measure. Nevoulas had returned to his now homelike Rhodes a confused and conflicted fellow.

Still doubts struck his mind... questions racked through his head and they were not the kind he could answer or discuss with any soul....

Nevoulas love and link with the empire was jaded, doubts racked him at every turn. Could the empire be so great when he saw such evil and treachery at every turn? Was this what had caused his brother to turn? The incompetancy that had led to the death of his father was still so prevelant?

He needed time to think... or maybe to withdraw from the public eye... his mind raced to the old ruins near the port of Rhodes dilapidated and untouched he had become quite taken to wandering through the area at his troubled times.

It was a travesty that such articles were left to rot and he decided to spend some time digging through and properly excavating such places.

As time passed, Nevoulas grew more and more withdrawn from the events of the empire and more into the ancient artifacts he was finding, records from years passed and stories of the old greeks fascinated him more than the events of real life. Indeed real life was proving more and more bothersome, he started to take actions that would result in Rhodes effectively being cut off from information from the mainland. To ensure no distractions, Nevoulas made the communities of Rhodes entirelly self sufficient and directed fishing vessels out into its own waters. Monies would be paid ontime, but he would accept no information or indeed incoming vessels.

At first there was concern that the Comes Hypatios who had been given charge of the isle would return. Fat chance of that thought Nevoulas.

Years passed... Nevoulas allowed his beard and hair to grow freely and his soldiers took wives and enjoyed their peace. Nevoulas never indulged himself as some of his guardsmen had but indeed was now completely involved in the complete excavation of the ruins of Rhodes.

Events of the empire though would one day put a halt to this as Nevoulas most faithful bodygaurd came to see him. Nevoulas was very reluctant to accept the incoming information but he knew his bodyguard would only interrupt him if it was something really important.

"Well then, what is it?" Nevoulas exclaimed "Nothing short of the Basilues visiting asteri's isle of wonder itself should interrupt me"

"My lord, thats just it, Rhodes is no longer the possession of the House of Asteri"

Nevoulas had a look of shock on his face... that snivelling little Hypatios...

"What has happened for this to be so?"

"The details are unclear but we recieved message today from Athens that the colours of the Asteri are to be taken down at once"

Nevoulas let out a sigh and turned to look at the ruins... he had barely scraped the surface of what he hoped would be his life's work. He knew Hypatios would come to Rhodes soon enough and he tremored to think of what he would do to the isle... one things for sure he did not want to be here himself when that happened.

"Call the guard together, we leave at dawn"

"But sire...."

"I admit it is troublesome, but fate has forced our hand we must leave!!!"

AussieGiant

08-07-2008, 22:12

Egypt 1120

The journey had gone far better than expected. The preparations, the ship, making contacts with old friends and acquaintances.

Now a few months later here he was suddenly standing on the Egyptian shoreline squinting inland, his piercing blue eyes surveyed the desert in front of him. The Keffiyeh and dark flowing robes hid the red jerkin of armour he wore under his the Arab clothing.

It was good to be home.

Glancing back he observed the score of heavily armed men pouring from the fast sloop he had purchased specifically for the trip. They were already making preparations to get underway. It seemed they still knew their trade, at least that would make the mission that much easier he thought.

flyd

08-08-2008, 00:26

The following speeches are being given in public places in Constantinople to anyone who will listen. Written copies are being distributed throughout the Empire.

Against Makedonios Ksanthopoulos

So we hear the Order of St. John has suffered an inglorious defeat at the hands of our Saracen enemies. But did any reasonable man expect otherwise? To this day all they have accomplished was to take a few ill-defended settlements, and to complain incessantly about their situation. That Makedonios Ksanthopoulos has complained and complained about not getting his armies to defend the frontier, but why would the Ceasar have given him a good army, if it has now been proven that he and his followers are incompetent military commanders? If they had any troops of any quality at all, they would have only been sent to a pointless slaughter. It is clear to see.

It is clear to see to us now, but the mighty Caesar has always seen it, for there is no man so well versed in the strategy of war. Surely, he is the offspring of Julius Caesar and Megas Alexandros, if one of them were a woman... probably Alexandros. For it is as we speak that he campaigns in the enemy's heartland while the Turk is distracted in his Jihading through Pontus and toward Constantinople. He marches on the enemy cities, the forests themselves part in front of him, the ground flattens and bows to him, the furry forest creatures sing him hymns of praise! Unlike the most useless Ksanthopoulos, the blessed Caesar Ioannis, may his name never be taken in vain, attacks and has captured the mighty fortress of Tibilsi, the stronghold of the hated Georgians! Caesar's followers now attack the pan-glorious city of Yerevan, seat of the damnable Armenian scum, our greatest enemies! Its streets are paved with gold, its buildings made of marble, and it rains sapphires the size of Caesar's manhood!

Thus, when the pan-glorious city of Yerevan is sacked, it will be a great boon to the faltering treasury, and all part of Caesar's masterful plan. Did ye of little faith really think the Caesar would run the treasury into the ground without having conceived a perfect and exceedingly masterful plan? And what has Ksanthopoulos done? He sits in Antioch, allows the Jihadist armies to pass, and sends his followers and their rag-tag army to get defeated while only destroying some fraction of the enemy army, the remains of which still march on Constantinople. He has done almost nothing to protect the city or the Empire. His army was destroyed, and he will only use that as an excuse to complain for more reinforcements, while the tatters of the Jihad still march on our Constantinople!

Put your faith in Caesar! Put your faith in Caesar! Listen not to the mindless complaining of Ksanthopoulos. The Caesar will bring prosperity to the Empire, like which has not been seen since the days of Emperor Heraclius, defeater of the Persians. Not a single war with the Persians did we have since, and exactly so it will be that the Turks will be defeated by Ioannis when he is Emperor!

Demosthenes, Friend of the Roman People.

***

Against Alexios ek Ikonou

Grave, grave, grave times are these. Grave they are when the Peloponnese has to be defended by such men as Alexios ek Ikonou and Savvas ek Militou. Men who are such cowards that they have been in no major battle. Not even when the entire world revolted, no where near glorious battle did they find themselves. Ek Ikonou has spent his life in Corinth, and ek Militou's crowning achievement is that he watched the Germans as they harmlessly passed by.

But the Caesar's generosity knows no bounds! When he walks on the streets, he gives jewels off his crown to homeless bums, and gives them the clothes off his back, and the food from his mouth! So it was in his boundless generosity that he has allowed the Egyptian fleet, so small it was that it sank by attack of two German ships, to pass by unimpeded by the mighty Imperial fleet, and to land its troops on the Peloponnese. Yes, great act of generosity it was, for it was to give these useless persons in the Tagmatan house an opportunity to win glory in battle!

But he did not give them an army, no! How dare you suggest that the Caesar would be so foolish, when, in fact, he is a wiser wiseman than most other wisemen. Even two of the three wisemen, in that if he lived in those times, he also would have also given gold to Jesus, if any was left in the treasury, for gold can be used to purchase other things. So it was in his great wisdom that he saw that these incompetent men would not know what to do with an army. The Caesar sees it all. Some say he can see if a cow's udder is full of milk from half a mile away. But he is not just a seer, he is a doer. He wouldn't just look at that cow, he'd milk it, if it needed milking. He'd milk it 'till no more milk came from its teats, but was all in some sort of a bucket. Then he'd drink the milk, 'cause he never leaves a job half-finished!

Anyway, as it was, the Caesar saw that these men would be incompetent in command, so he left them without a proper army and only to do with what garrisons there are. Meanwhile, he has used what money there is to fortify mighty Dardanellia, so that the Jihads marching on Constantinople don't change their minds! Certainly, the scarce gold of the treasury would have been a waste on the likes of ek Ikonou and ek Militou. The Caesar has seen this, for he does see all, and he is a great administrator, peer of Caesar Augustus himself! Not just peer, he excels him too! In those times, they would have called him Caesar Super-Augustus Magnus Maximus!

So, hail Caesar! Hail him all day! Hail him all night! Hail him 'till you have exhailed yourselves! Hail him 'till the cows come home! And when they do, they will have already been milked! No cow remains unmilked when Caesar Ioannis, blessed be he by all the Saints, is around! Hail him, damn you!

Demosthenes, Friend of the Roman People.

AussieGiant

08-08-2008, 21:38

East of Alexandria 1120

Moving between the two crusading armies was a gamble, but one that had to be taken in order to reach Cairo before the approaching Byzantine forces.

They had nearly been caught between the outlying pickets of Senator Mavrozomis force besieging Alexandria and scouts from the advance parties of Senator Ksiros army to the east.

In the end a sand storm had forced Ksiros's outriders to withdraw closer to the rest of the army in fear of being ambushed in hostile land.

More than one of his men had look at him strangely due to his behaviour at ensuring they were not seen by the Byzantines. He had not told them anything about the mission and now they were all clearly wonder just what they had gotten themselves into.

It didn't matter what they were starting to believe he thought, as long as they followed orders that was all that mattered.

Ignatios on the other hand was another issue. He had been brought along to ensure part of the mission was a success and his previous experience and affiliation would certainly confirm or deny the involvement of various elements back in the Empire. His furiously whispered argument had not helped at all in calming the men before the most dangerous and nerve racking part of the mission. In the end threats and force had to be used to ensure his compliance. He was certainly equipped for the mission and his various skills had already been used a great deal in getting them this far. The only problem was, his over inflated sense of religious beliefs.

In the end contact had been made with one of the officers of his former regiment, and now they were making good time in reaching the agreed point where they would meet with the current Amir on the outskirts of Cairo.

Time was of the essence.

Reaching Cairo ahead of everyone else and determining what was really going on was critical.

Ibn-Khaldun

08-11-2008, 16:11

The Sea near the Egyptian coast, 1122

Efstathios sat on a barrel on the deck of his ship. He looked into the empty distance. The message of the Kosmas Mavrozomis' death shocked him a lot.

Kosmas was his Lord but also someone he could count on. A great man who have died too soon just like Markianos Ampelas.

"This can't be coincidence!" Efstathios said to himself.

"Two men from the Asteri have gone. Both of them after I joined the Crusade. Both of them died after I first ordered a sabotage against a fellow Crusader."

"This can't be coincidence," He said again.

Some sailors passed him and were looking him as people look the persons who talk to themselves. They were sure that a long voyage on the sea finally taking his mind.

But Efstathios didn't care what people thought about him. He blamed himself in those deaths that took two great men from their families.

"God is punishing me! He knows that I joined the Crusade only to revenge of the death of my father. God knows this! I must redeem myself!"

He stood up and sayd with a strong voice..

"God if You hear me then know this! I promise to bring peace and prosperity to our people. I will forgive to the people who have hurt me and my family! I feel no grudge against them anymore! To the end of my days I promise to be a good Christian who respects life! Yes, this I promise!"

After saying that he looked around him and people on deck saw something different in his eyes. A changed man.

Askthepizzaguy

08-12-2008, 19:39

THE ROMAN IMPERIAL SENATE, 1122 AD

Makedonios, Senator of the Roman Empire, rises in the Imperial senate to argue for the impeachment of the Roman Caesar.

Well, the complete lack of building in Order and Asteri settlements is unsettling. The lack of priests in this area of the world to spread the Word. The lack of merchants to make money. The lack of a stable navy in these parts. The lack of roads. The lack of watchtowers on our borders. The sinking of our resources into one corner of the Empire and a shiny new army for the Caesar while the rest rots from neglect.

So no, the criminal neglect of our armies is not my only concern. It is my most dire concern however since without proper armies, we can not defend the Empire or even our subjects in the Levant.

I will say that the Order served exactly the purpose I promised it would back in 1081. We were the flank of the flank. We met the Fatimid Jihad and kept them from the great city of Constantinople. While House Asteri generously offered to help us, we were able to do without it which freed them up to retake the settlement of Caesarea.

Unfortunately the wily Fatimids showed us that they can sail across the sea and strike at our heartlands. Comes Savvas was able to defeat the Fatimid Prince but he had to do so without a proper army. He had to scrape together various militias and units from other settlements.

My point is, we've all had to make due with what little we have while the Caesar makes his House fat and rich. And while we have been successful, that is not a strategy for governing an Empire. That is basically rolling the dice. The Caesar gambled that he could pursue his personal agenda and that the rest of the Empire could basically just "hold on."

Our subjects deserve better...

________________________________________

The previously nameless senator from Durazzo, Taranto Giovinazzo, simply rolls his eyes at the one known as Makedonios. Finally, he speaks.

"Such partisan grandstanding flows easily from one who does not bear the weight of leadership, and stands only to gain from undermining a leader, purely for his own political career."

Makedonios eyes the "senator" from Durrazzo curiously.

"Who are you?

As far as I know, the Senator from Durrazo is Efstratios. But he had a tirade over the Crusade and left.

I have no idea who you are but your sitting in his seat. Now, if your his aid, that is one thing. But your basically trying to be a Senator yourself. Sorry, but I do not recognize your authority and therefore will not be answering your questions. I talk to Senators and the aids and guests who know their place."

Looking at the Emperor.

"I ask that Taranto Giovinazzo be removed from the premises. He is not a legal Senator of the Magnaura. Efstratios or his representative belong in that seat, not some random peasant who feels like pretending he is a Senator."
_______________________________

Narrator-

"Taranto Giovinazzo, the impostor Senator, spy of the Kingdom of Sicily, is exposed by Makedonios for the fraud that he is, and the guards close in on him.

Just as they are about to capture him, Taranto Giovinazzo reaches inside his cloak and produces a grappling hook attached to a very long and sturdy rope. He whips the hook as hard as he can and it catches on one of the beams that run across the grand structure. With a jolly "ho ho!" the Sicilian spy swings over the palace guards and flips a full seventeen times in the air before landing on his feet.

The incredibly over-the-top and entirely unrealistic manner of his heroic escape has left him horribly, horribly dizzy and nauseated. Instead of rushing out of the senate to his inevitable freedom, he trips over his suspiciously large shoes and smacks his head against the stone floor. As blood pours from his forehead, Taranto attempts to regain his footing, but he is seeing stars, and lurches forward to vomit profusely.

Slipping in a puddle of his own abdominal spillage, he once again slips, this time landing on the back of his head. Blood pouring over his eyes, he struggles to turn over onto his stomach, but the slick stone floor prevents him from making any progress. He winces and cries out from the pain, and once again tries to get up. After several concussions and much blood loss, and twelve attempts to stand, Taranto finally rises to his feet and staggers towards an open window to escape.

Along the way, Taranto's mind begins to clear, and all the secrets of existence seem to be revealed to him. The severe brain damage he sustained against the floor somehow made the world seem simple and easy to understand. The meaning of existence, after centuries of discussion, is revealed simply to be the the logical, mathematically defined exception to all of the long odds against it's own being. For however unlikely is the birth of time and space and matter into existence, from nothingness, the mere fact that it is possible means that it is a mathematical certainty, given the infinite nature of nonexistence, that existence is possible. As for the meaning of life, it seems clear now that the purpose of human existence is to examine and document, as well as experience, the incredible and entirely unlikely possibility of the universe itself; to gain understanding over the nature of reality, metaphysics, mathematics, and harmony, and to take the lessons learned from that and apply it to one's personal code of ethics and philosophy, that one might bring reason, understanding, peace, harmony, and even life itself to other sentient beings, to help civilization discover more about this fantastic exception to the rule which is our very existence. The miracle of truth allowing the distinction between real and imaginary to generate the very fabric of our being, to allow for the concept of the laws of physics, of logic, of universal constants and the motion of time and space and energy, all while providing this existence with a form of justice.

As Taranto pondered whether or not a divine entity caused this great exception to nonbeing, and all the other metaphysical questions that have caused mankind to theorize and debate, and just as he was about to reveal to everyone in the Roman Imperial Senate the very truth of their existence, Taranto suffered a fatal burst of flatulence which caused him to explode, and the oil-fuelled lighting fixtures which provided light for the Senate chambers caused that gas to ignite into a massive fireball.

And so all that remained of Taranto Giovinazzo was a large spill of blood and vomit on the senate floor, and a large floppy clown shoe.

And a decidedly unpleasant odor."

__________________________________
Written by PK and ATPG

AussieGiant

08-13-2008, 08:13

Cairo 1124

Apionnas sat at his desk scanning the work he had completed to date. The place was a hive of activity as usual. It was a fully operational field headquarters now and had been operating as such for well over a year.

Years of infiltration, bribery, interrogation, observation and direct contact with members of his former regiment and the new Amir himself, had resulted in no direct evidence.

He could not prove to his lord what he had been sent to find out.

But, there was certainly more than enough evidence to confirm a number of things.

He had in his possession a copy of a letter sent directly to the Caliph. It clearly proved that the harsh and out of character response by the late ruler against all Christians was in fact a direct reaction to outside influences. The latest discussions with his former Amir had been revealing enough. Some sections of the Caliph's council and the Grand Vizier himself had privately warned against religious attacks and that such actions could be a trap as part of a wider plot. Unfortunately that had not stopped the command being given and the deaths of thousands.

He had not been able to determine what that influence was, but Vissarionas ek Lesvou had been identified as living in Cairo for many years as was clearly implicated in the events leading up to the back lash against the Christians in the area and the subsequent Orthodox Crusade. He had multiple eye witness accounts and direct interviews to prove that.

The prodigious amount of money made available to him had allowed a vast network of informants and spies to report back to him on nearly everything that was, and had, gone on in the city all those years ago. The amount of back ground information was damning to a great extent, but most of it was just that, background information.

Ignatios, had also been partially successful. The Organisation was certainly here. But in what capacity and to what extent was still unknown.

Now, there was another threat. Slowly but surely it was clear that another group was tightening its grip on them. First it was simply a few scuffles. Local thieves and thugs was the assumption. However recently the situation had became far more dangerous. Some of his agents were now being found dead and there was real pressure being placed to counter their work here. That in itself proved beyond doubt that they were getting closer. He had not made his thoughts known to the others, but it was time to leave before all their work was destroyed.

Temptation. Stay and risk everything they had collected to date, or leave, but with the job still incomplete.

Apionnas leaned back in his chair gazing up at the ceiling.

After a few moments he stood. The decision made. It was time.

Ituralde

08-13-2008, 09:57

Coop Story between Kagemusha and Ituralde

Yerevan 1224:

The room was dimly lit, only a few braziers positioned in the far corners cast some shadows over the large table standing in the middle of the room. The glaring sun outside was shut out along with the din of noises from the street by thick blankets draped over the large windows. Although they were meant to keep the heat outside too a thin sheet of sweat had appeared on Pavlos brow and he eagerly took a sip at the wine in his goblet coming from the relative cool of the cellars.

"Ah, Comes Kontakouzinos! Welcome to Yerevan, welcome to your domain. 'Tis a fine city isn't it? A bit warm for my liking, nothing like a good fresh wind blowing from the sea, that's what I say."

Pavlos had set down his goblet on the table as the other man had entered and walked a few steps towards his visitor, gripping Ioannis hand firmly and locking the gaze with the taller man.

"But please sit down. It must have been a long journey!"

Motioning to one of the seats he takes the one across from Kontakouzinos.

Ioannis was sweating. He had traveled with his small retinue, through Anatolia, witnessing both the harsh winter and hot summer. The hot arid weather of Armenia would have been harsh for him 10 years a go, but after experienceing the fierce weather of the Steppe and Carpathians, he had grown more tolerable against any kind of weather.

"My Lord. It is easy to say that this place is no Constantinopol. No Sea and surrounded by Mountains. Dry and hot during the summer and cold and snowy during the winter. But this place is as good as any to serve the Empire."

Ioannis said the first sentences with a joking tone and with a small wrinkle of a smile on his face. The latter with more serious tone on his voice. Kantakouzinos answered to the gaze of the older man with a firm but friendly expression and sat down, opposite to Pavlos Chrysovergos, the veteran of the Komnenodoukai and his new lord.

"It is indeed and you better get bloody used to it. Sinop, Trebizond, Tblisi and Yerevan, that we will be our power base, and hopefully Diyarbarkyr, for which you may use my Private Army. The storming of this place has shown me that I'm getting too old for these campaigns, it's time for my vassals to step up, eh?"

"The Caesar has told me that he will keep Nicaea and Can.. Dardanellia once he, you know, inherits the throne. Which brings me to my next point. We need to plan for the time when Ioannis Komnenos is Emperor. He will need our support and I am willing to give it to him, are you?"

Ioannis lets his eyes wonder around the room, while listening carefully when Pavlos speaks. Then when the older man is finished, Kantakouzinos turns his eyes towards the man opposite to him and replies.

" I have become blunt in my speech over the years, but that also means, what i say, i mean."

Ioannis pauses and turns his eys from Chrysovergos to the window and looks somewhere far, far away, somewhere where one cant see from the window of the place they are and he continues.

"As you know i spent years chasing my personal goals and to be honest, neglected my duties for the Komnenodoukai. I chased the love of the princess, i chased my own domain from the edge of the steppe, but when i got adopted by Caesar i fulfilled my main goal, which was to have Kantakouzinos and Komnenos family to be one.
My past actions might suggest that i live only for my only goals, but as my goals are filled, i live to preserve what has been achieved."

He turns his eyes from the window, to Pavlos and says with a determined voice.

"Now that my goal is filled. I will not let anyone or anything hurt my family, the royal family. You can be sure of it that i will be obedient to the Caesar to my grave and to you. You Pavlos Chrysovergos are the most senior of us to lead the Komnenodoukai house after Caesar succeeds his father and you can count on me to me stand by your side, what ever that will take. I am ready to kill any man who stands in the way of the Imperial family or our house, be it whom ever."

Ioannis pauses as his expression is getting once again more then diabolic, just like many times in the senate. He continues with a softer voice.

" I have one man in my retinue, whom i have lot to thank for my success. He foresaw that my destiny waited me in the North. Not like i thought that it would have met me in Iasi, but it met me in the Carpathian hills in form of rebel army. There i understood that serving the empire was the right path.

This man is called Petrus and he has lots of wisdom inside him. He can predict man´s future from the stars. Maybe one of these days you would like to meet him and test his skills?"

Pavlos smiles shortly, before his face becomes grim again, enhanced by the scar putting the left side of his mouth in a constat downcast.

"I bloody like a man who speaks his mind and this Petrus sounds like an interesting man indeed. Now that these things are out of the way there is an important matter we need to settle. Ampelas and that Crusader have shown that we are mortal so it's important that any such event doesn't catch us surprised. I have prepared a document."

He shoves a scroll from the table in front of him towards Kontakouzinos, the title is just readable: Will of Pavlos Chrysovergos.

"If you would set upt a similar document this should ensure that the power of the Komnenodoukai remains between the two of us. Of course after my death you're free to bloody change it as you will. We both know that the Caesar has made many enemies and supporting him as Basileos may put us in the line of danger."

"You offered to sacrifice your life for the Emperor and myself. I'm flattered, but my priorities lie differently. Once before the Empire broke because of inner strife and provinces like Armenia, Georgia or Pontus were lost. Should something similar occur again I will not abandon my people for the sake of Imperial intrigue!"

Pavlos steeples his hands in front of his face.

"I hope you will still follow me and offer a similar document?"

Ioannis reads through the document, picks up a scroll and ink and writes down few words and signs the document. Then with a quick motion he pull´s his dagger and cuts his thump, presses the bloody thumb on the pergament hard, leaving a wet splash of blood to the pergament.
Kantakouzinos raises up on his feet and offers his hand to Pavlos Chrysovergos with an expression of determination and mutual understanding on his face, saying.

"I understand what you say and i agree."

Pavlos graps the others ones wrist in a firm grip once more returning his determined look with his grim face.

"I'm bloody happy to have you as my vassal Ioannis Kontakouzinos!"

Ioannis replies.

"Its good to serve a master who knows his what he is doing."

The two men sit down and after a bit of silence and few sips of wine, Ioannis opens another scroll showing it to Pavlos and speaks.

"My Lord, maybe you would like to look something little I have been planning for the Caucasus border, once we have taken it all, I think this kind of system of forts could help us protect our border to Steppe."

The two men look at the drawings and start talking about the matter, as the mid days heat in Yerevan starts to turn into more tolerable evening weather of Amenia.

Ramses II CP

08-13-2008, 20:08

A speech is given in Constantinople before a massive crowd, and reproductions of it on paper soon appear throughtout the Empire.

On the Society of Secret Muslims and their Brotherhood of Friends,

Today I must raise a terrible spector of danger. Today I must warn you noble masses of an impending disaster. Today I must, though it pains me so, inveigh against a high born man of our Empire who, through his own actions, has indicted himself as a...

with a quirk of his eyebrow the white haired speaker pauses for a dramatic breath,

Secret Muslim!

Yes brothers, yesssss, such a vile desperado walks among the confidences of the Emperor himself unknown, unguessed, and unrevealed. He pours poison into the ears of our leaders, hoards wealth and resources for his private Muslim Brotherhood army. He even now has arrived at the Senate chambers and spews his insidious untruths into the nobly open ears of our own good representatives. He marched through these very streets, rubbing his secret crescent tattoo beneath his garmets and begging his heathen god's aid in subverting the Emperor.

And who is it that could so hideously betray the ideals of Rome? And who is it that mocks the most Holy Crusade our devout Orthodox brothers have undertaken? And who is it that rules a sect of the Empire dominated by falsely converted Muslims and full of assassins waiting to pour out their venom on your own defenseless persons?

None other than the most recent holder of the office of Megas Logothetes! None other than the man who invited a jiahd to pass him by and march on Constantinople itself! None other than the very beast who abandoned Markianos Ampelas and Kosmas Mavrozomis to be gutted by infidels!

None other than Caesar Ioannis!

I say again, none other than Caesar Ioannis!

It is said that the Emperor's wife was knocked down by a goat while Ioannis grew within her, and does this not sound precisely like how heathens breed? No fault can fall on the most noble Emperor for such an accident for any fruit may chance to roll far from the shade of it's tree, perhaps even into a dog's leavings, and rot!

Take note, wisest citizens, that no troops have been recruited for armies not under the control of his Secret Muslim brothers! Take note, most brilliant and beloved Romans, that no structures have been built except for the benefit of his openly Muslim civilians! Take note, please, please, I beg of you, take note that when the armies of Islam marched on our cities not one iota of effort did he expend to oppose them, nor will he ever, for it was at his behest that they marched!

On that black day when our Emperor falls, long be it in coming, will we allow ourselves to be ruled by a Secret Muslim? By a darkly evil brother in that most infectious of Brotherhoods? By a heathen who mocks the words of God and Patriarch?

Carry this close to your hearts my friends, and know it for truth, a figure shall arise to oppose these Secret Muslims. A figure clothed in righteousness, a figure devout and holy, a figure who has stood against the jihad and who has truly converted the heathens to the words of Orthodoxy. All glory to that man, all praise to his name, and may God deliver all power into his hands!

So says,

Isaeus the Truthspeaker

OOC: Okay, so this won't be nearly as funny to people who aren't following the more insane bits of US politics, but hopefully it'll get a few laughs all the same. FD's previous bits of propoganda were, naturally, of some inspiration as well. :beam:

:egypt:

AussieGiant

08-14-2008, 08:43

A blue and red robed Saracen looking figure observes proceedings in the square where the speech is given. Once completed the hooded man departs in a measured stride. Those foolish enough to be easily motivated by the speech approach the departing figure with intent. They quickly realise the grave error they have made and give him a wide berth.

AussieGiant

08-18-2008, 08:09

Co-op piece with GH

Cairo, 1124

The same office that had been a hive of activity just one week before was now deserted. Operations had been suspended, tying up loose ends and wrapping up the mission was now nearly complete.

Most of his agents had left the city, only those on more long term assignments or part of the population had stayed. Hopefully the identity and mission of these agents would be protected for years to come. The work he had done here would, or could, if managed successfully allow for decades of ongoing surveillance and information.

Rather than leave himself, one last lead had to be followed up on. Normally he would not have stayed given the danger, but the risk did not outweigh the potential reward. This was literally a key witness as to whether elements of the Orthodox clergy were able to be confirmed as part of the overall mission.

Now, leaning against a wall in a late night market in the centre of Cairo the Saracen looking officer waited. The hair on the back of his neck clearly suggested the enemy was nearby. Never the less he waited, ignoring the tell tale signs of impending danger that would normally have him withdraw as fast as he could.

His eyes continued to scan the crowd. Looking for the person he had organised to meet.

Unfortunately, Apionnas was unaware that the crowd was scanning him too, at least, several members were. As a result of his mind being fixed on completing his task and getting the heck out of Cairo, he missed several key alarms that a more cautious person would easily pick up on.

A man, digging into a large watermelon, between bites staring at his mark, making sure he stayed put. A vendor, looking very out of place for somebody selling his wares in a generally Muslim city, hawking goods in only one direction. A figure, face and body obscured by a dark hooded cloak, merging with a shadow in an alley. A shopper, eternally browsing only a small section of the market, walking back and forth, conveniently in the exact same section that Apionnas was standing.

And so on.

They were, to a man, all more vigilant and watchful than their target, but of course, they were expected to be. Numbers and knowledge of their target were on their side. All they had to do was wait for the Saracen looking man to make his move and then they would be on him.

They had been watching him for months if not years, all collecting information on the man and his contacts, only confirming his identity a short while ago. They had let the man's agents go freely; after all, they were not the big prize. They knew nothing, and even if they did, it would be difficult for men of their standing to get their messages to the proper people.

Now, the true prize awaited and was near. An error was about to be corrected.

Pushing himself of the wall Apionnas recognised his man. A high level administrator in the Grand Vizier's office. Even just half and hour with him would confirm everything he had pieced together so far.

Steadily, he paced up behind his contact. He noted the man's fine robe and the dagger concealed beneath. At last, it was time to catch his prize.

Just then, a hand clamped on his shoulder. The grip was strong and powerful. Apionnas wheeled around, trying to get a good look at the hand's owner and shake him off, but before he had a chance more hands came out of nowhere, holding down his arms, blocking his mouth.

"Well well well, a Greek Senator in Cairo even before the Crusade has hit," a voice said. "I'm sure His Eminence will be very interested to know what you're doing down here, especially considering your... history."

GeneralHankerchief

08-18-2008, 21:31

The Byzantine Blab

Your Daily Dose of Gossip in a Lovely, Effeminate Shade of Purple Since 330 AD

August 1125 Edition - Special Magnaura Report

Patriarch Lucks Out in Alexandria Conflict
Was legal loophole a blessing from God... or tricky maneuvering?
https://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n231/GeneralHankerchief/LotR/lotr_000.jpg
By Woodros Bernsteintinos
CONSTANTINOPLE - Mere hours after the controversial Edict 4.5 was passed in the Magnaura essentially shipping Patriarch of Constantinople Nicholas III to yet-to-be conquered Alexandria, a statement was issued from the Office of the Patriarch proclaiming that, in preparation for the move to Alexandria, an error was discovered the ancient Book of Orthodox Doctrine.

The Book, written in ancient times when the Eastern Roman Empire was flourishing and when Alexandria was under its control, lists the various Patriarchates and the powers allocated to each. Amended to keep up with the current state of the Byzantine Empire, the Patriarch of Constantinople oversees the religion in the greater Greece area, has a say in the legitimacy of royal heirs, and is allowed an official Representative in the Magnaura, among other things. In comparison, the Patriarch of Alexandria oversees Orthodoxy in Africa and the lower Levant and is allowed no greater say in the affairs of Constantinople.

However, as the Office has revealed, the Book contains a glaring misprint, previously undiscovered due to the fact that up until a few hours ago, the Patriarchate of Alexandria had not existed for centuries. In the headings for each section, the words "Constantinople" and "Alexandria" are accidentally switched, meaning that, technically, the allowance of a Representative and a voice in the matters of succession now fall under the Patriarch of "Alexandria"'s duties, and vice versa.

"What this means," said Nicholas III's official Representative, in an exclusive interview with the Blab, "is that Patriarch Nicholas essentially will continue in the same role he has had for the past years, with only his official title changing." The Representative went on to state that, despite the silliness and rather obviousness of the error, it is law, as the Book was legally voted to be "the absolute final say for all matters and disputes pertaining to Orthodoxy, as per the Joint Magnaura/Synod Resolution of 933 or something," said the Representative.

Others, however, aren't so sure that this error always existed. "Come on, just a little bit after the Patriarch loses the fight and gets shipped to Alexandria, it's suddenly revealed that the Patriarch of Alexandria now has all the powers of the Patriarch of Constantinople? Give me a break," said a disgusted Savvas ek Miltou, in a bit of a rush considering his historic tie for the position of Megas. "Clearly, Nicholas and his cronies are manipulating ancient dogma to subvert the rule of law. If that was always in place like they say it is, I'll eat my entire Magnaura bench."

When questioned about how quickly this oversight could be corrected, the Representative was not optimistic. "It's not as simple as crossing out 'Constantinople' and writing 'Alexandria' over it," he said. "Changing the Book is a very ancient procedure and will require, to start, a convening of at least two councils, followed by several votes as well as the Patriarch's approval. It could definitely take some time."

"This just adds to my case," Savvas said upon learning this, before he walked off in a huff.

As the learned portion of Constantinople was thrown into an uproar over hearing the two pieces of news, the few among them who remained calm said that the continued standoff did not bode well for the continued internal peace of the Empire.

"At this point, the Basileus and Patriarch are just trying to one-up each other," said a citizen who preferred not to be named. "Eventually, something's got to give, and I predict it will sooner rather than later."

The Patriarch could not be reached for comment.

Savvas ek Miltou used with Andres's permission.

Ituralde

08-20-2008, 08:35

A coop story between Ignoramus and Ituralde

Constantinople 1225:

Pavlos Chrysovergos enters the private audience chamber of Ioannis Komnenos and makes a small formal bow. His face, as always set in a grim expression he stares fixedly at a point slightly above the head of the Komnenodoukai.

"Caesar, my lord! Thank you for granting me this audience."

"Ah, Pavlos! Just the man I wanted to see. We have many things to discuss."

Pavlos remains standing in front of the Caesar.

"I'm glad you see it that way my lord! I have served you loyally in the past and followed your command and advice without question. I am grateful for the confidence you have put in me and I will do my best to lead the Komnenodoukai once you follow your father on the throne."

Pavlos hesitates a moment before continuing.

"But I bloody well see the tensions in the Senate and I fear your ascension to Basileus may not go as smooth as your father's. May I ask what your plans are for the future?"

Glancing quickly around the room, Ioannis leans forward before he speaks.

"I must be careful in what I say. While I doubt not that we are secure here, should word get out..."

Straightening himself, Ioannis leans back into his seat and continues.

"The Order have refused reconciliation. I had attempted mediation with Ksanthopoulos, but he was too arrogant or too proud to take it. Adding the disloyalty of the Order and the continuous insults hurled at me by its members, I am not kindly disposed towards them. If they do not change their ways, then I fear we may be plunged into civil war."

The short man nods slowly.

"What if Ksanthopoulos becomes Megas?"

"When I first swore loyalty to you I aksed for an army to conquer Sinop. That was my goal and you honoured my ambition and made me not only ruler of Pontus but of Armenia and Georgia as well. I make no secret of my desire. I despise what happened at Manzikert and that's why I have kept myself from the dealings in the Senate. I tried to bloody escape it, but here I stand at the center of the struggle. I will not abandon the outskirts of Rome to have it overrun by heathens again."

"I am a loyal man and thankful for what you have done, but with Ksanthopolous as Megas and Civil War. The Empire has to persevere!"

Smiling, Ioannis looked keenly at Pavlos.

"Indeed. But like it or not, as the future leader of the Komnenodoukai, you will not be able to avoid politics. I, myself, am not overly fond of politics. My mind is not as sharp as my father's, and I will sorely miss his wisdom. But I will not tolerate disrespect or disloyalty. Such actions caused the catastrophe that followed the murder of Basileus Maurice, and we still haven't fully recovered from that blow over 500 years ago. Surely you must see that if the Order continue to undermine my future authority and that of the Komnenoi family then they must be brought to account. To do otherwise would invite disaster."

"I agree, my lord. With everything you said. The letters of ek Lesvou ask for retaliation and the slander of Laskaris is not much better. Should their lords tolerate their actions further I fear there's no bloody alternative. I am your loyal servant and I will do my best to avoid Civil War. If I fail, I will follow your command, as always!"

Standing up, Ioannis accompanies Pavlos out of the room.

Kagemusha

08-20-2008, 20:12

Somewhere between Constantinopol and Sinop 1225

Tender summer breeze from Black Sea touched the cliffs and waved the dry bushes that grew between the large cliffs. The same breeze threw small sparkles from a campfire of Ioannis Kantakouzinos and his small retainer band. As Ioannis turned his eyes to the sky. He could see the thousands and yet thousands lights up in the sky and the large harvest moon, which shone is ghastly light on the black waves of the Black Sea.

Others were soundly asleep as it was his watch. When moving with his close men, Ioannis had always shared the hardships with his men. Eating the same, drinking the same, sleeping like the others did, under the bare sky. These men had became his brothers, while there was not a question who the leader was, Ioannis treated his men as equals and did not allow any luxuries to himself.

There Kantakouzinos sat and watched the fire as it created dancing shadows on his face thinking about the past and the future.

He thought about the past years.The wild dreams of the young man he once was. The despair that almost swallowed him at one point. The same despair in the end had made him want to die and it had been that wish of death that had brought him back to life. To a different life. To a life where serving had replaced ambition, maybe not entirely, but mostly. To a life where he had found out that he was not alone fighting the world, but together with others fighting for a cause. A cause which was defending the Empire, against all outside and also internal enemies.

Ioannis understood that life had not made him the most pleasant of men, nor that his hands were not clean of blood of the innocents. He knew that many of his fellow senators saw him as a madman or a man of villaneous character, but he also knew that if it was needed to be a villain or to drown the enemies of the empire into pools of their own blood. He would not feel bad about it. If the Empire needed terrible men in order for it to prosper, he was ready to sacrifice the last inch of goodness from his character for the Empire.

Ioannis also thought about a woman and not just about any woman. He was thinking about the a princess. Thinking about Anna. He had never stopped loving the princess, who had discarded him from her feelings probably a long time a go. She had married and given birth to many children to another man. But Ioannis did not feel hate towards her or her husband for it. He still held the green cloth, now stained in blood and old dirt, but still Ioannis kept it next to his heart at all times. It was as if the cloth had started to personify everything good that was left in him and also about the longing he felt for a woman that he never could have. Soon enough he should have to marry himself and give a heir to the Kantakouzinos family.

That was one last task he should full fill, before he would even bit more free from his oblications, but in the end Ioannis understood that his oblications would never end, until death would free him from his duties. Once he would have children he would have to protect them as he had to protect the Empire and the Royal family, from anything which would dare to threaten it.

After hours of lonely thoughts, Kantakouzinos woke up from his thoughts and lifted his eyes from the fire. There on the opposite side of the campfire, he regocniced familiar features. Hector his shield bearer and right hand man had already woke up and said to his master.

"Sire. There are still few hours before the sun comes up. Take your rest, it is my turn to guard the camp."

Ioannis smiled to Hector and lied down on his blanket, while the scarred veteran added some more firewood to the fire. Lying there under the stars on the shore of the Black Sea, Comes Kantakouzinos slept, slept and dreamed about the past and about the future.

OverKnight

08-21-2008, 18:09

This is a coop story between myself and YourLordandConqueror and is set after this (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=1994015&postcount=1220) post in the Magnaura.

Constatinople, 1125

Aleksios held his torch aloft, casting a dim light about the Catacombs. It revealed mouldering bones stacked in alcoves along the narrow passage. Pools of sewage were at his feet, staining the soft leather of his shoes sewn with purple thread. Aleksios coughed, he was too old to be crawling around in the muck like this, but not old enough to join the denizens of this place.

Behind the Basileus, Harald Sigurdsson, his Varangian captain, grunted, "My lord, couldn't this have been left to a messenger or one of your sons? It could be a trap. The person who contacted you is hardly trustworthy."

Aleksios shook his head, "A calculated risk, it seems the Patriarch has more than a few informants (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=1991835&postcount=1168), the less people who know about this meeting, the better."

They made their way further into the Catacombs, finally emerging into an open area where several tunnels met. A few faint rays of sunlight poured through a small iron grate twenty feet above them. A rat, startled by their arrival, skittered away into the looming darkness.

The Varangian surveyed the scene, hand on the hilt of his sword, "I do not like this at all, my lord."

The Basileus sighed, "Neither do I, but I hope the enemy of my enemy is a friend."

As if in answer, torch light could be seen approaching down one of the tunnels.

The torchlight grew brighter, and soon from the tunnel opposite of the Basileus a figure appeared dressed in red and white, his face obscured by both a hood and a scarf of red. "I see you summoned up the courage to come see me." The man made no move, and simply stood underneath the archway of the tunnel.

The Basileus replied quietly, "A man who hides his face speaks of courage? No, it is necessity that has brought me here. This meeting was bought in blood, Iakovos was nearly killed bringing me information on the Organization. I've heard bits and pieces from him and others. Rumors that at least some of your fraternity are working for the Patriarch."

Aleksios stepped forward, "I need to know more. I need the blanks filled in. I hope you can help with that."

The man shifts his weight. "Of course I can...I am sorry to hear that you decided to involve my brother in this though. And please, refrain from implicating me in the Organizations actions, a "fraternity" I no longer control of."

"What do you wish to know?"

Aleksios replied, "Ah, you must be Aleksander, a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry your brother was hurt, but I had to cast a wide net to get even a few scraps of information.

"I know your former colleague Symeon now runs the Organization and that he is most likely involved with the Patriarch. It seems they are both plotting to set up a Theocracy in the Empire.

"I also know that the persecution of Christians in Egypt, the event that the Patriarch used to launch the Crusade, is highly suspicious. My agent investigating this has also encountered resistance from the Organization in Egypt; they were trying to curtail his investigation and I have lost contact with him. This leads me to suspect that the Patriarch is using the Organization to cover his tracks, indicating his involvement, somehow, with the pogrom. The Patriarch may be using Vissarionas ek Leskvou, conveniently placed in Cairo before hand, as a plant or a patsy as well. My guess is that the Patriarch plans to use the Crusade to stoke religious fervor in the Empire and pave the way for a power grab. He has already shown he will not accept his demotion."

The Basileus produced a sheath of papers, some stained with blood.

"I also have two out of three reports on the Organization provided by Iakovos. The first is a roster of agents, the third is incomplete but troubling and the second was intercepted and is now missing."

Aleksios handed the papers to Aleksander.

"As I said, I need the blanks filled in. I need evidence to implicate the Patriarch in all this. I need the information from the second report and what is misssing from the third."

Aleksander pulls away his disguise. "Not much point in this is there?" He shakes his black hair loose and looks at the papers handed to him. First he chuckles while looking at the first paper, but frowns when reading the third.

"I see...well, allow me to put into clearer terms for you. The first is incomplete, he lacks information on several agents. The third, it is simple enough, let me fill in the blanks...you have well over 150 Organization members within your military, most in at least mid-range command positions. You also have 5 informants, one in the Hippodrome, one in the Magnaura, one in the Varangian Guard, one among the Senators, and the final is in the Imperial treasury. Another part, the torn part, was to indicate how to contact me...which you did. The last part deals with Symeons attempt to subvert my attempt to form House Korakas, which he managed extremely well. As to the last part, it is merely a suggestion to put one of your own men inside the House to help curtail the Organization from influencing policy in the Empire."

Aleksander stares right back at Aleksios with his piercing blue eyes. "If you want information on the Patriarch though, lets make a deal. My father always told me that if your good at something, never do it for free."

The Basileus returned the younger man's gaze.

"I doubt patriotism would be enough. . .what about vengeance against those who have wronged you? The men who have hunted you. If the Patriarch goes down, so will those who propped him up. Symeon and his cohorts will be the hunted ones then.

"What else could I grant you?"

Aleksander breaks into laughter. "You seem to think I am a rather simple man. I want a future for my brother and his family, I want a secure future for my forming House, and the Caesar off the throne or at least well enough opposed, not "vengeance"...I've had my fill of "vengeance" to last me a life time. Such an offer is quite hollow, both idealistically and realistically."

Aleksios's eyes narrowed, "Your House? I had an inkling Iakovos was trying to form one, but is he just a proxy?"

His voice become quiet, "And why do you wish that my son not inherit the Throne?"

Aleksander chuckled. "Iakovos is to devoted to Makedonios to even think of such things, and he is to attached to Adana to leave the Order. It was I, upon the suggestion of Methodios, that formed House Korakas. I have been responsible for all it's dealings, I am the one who met with the senators as Nomikos to seal what deals were needed. I formed the House, based on the same principles I had hoped for in the Organization."

"As to your son, its really simple, do you want a full-scale rebellion on your hands? Your sons domestic policies are, how should I say it? Antagonistic? Entropic? Not received well? Symeon is currently using your son Ioannis as his platform to recruit Organization members and gather support. If Ioannis assumes power, one wonders what power Symeon will gain as well. Almost anyone else, especially someone like Makedonios or Kalameteros, would simply rip the power and proverbial rug out from under Symeon."

Aleksios's face darkened.

"Ioannis is my son, even if I wanted someone else to inherit, it would be an invitation to Civil War. Primogeniture may not be as strong of a tradition as in the West, but it is recognised."

The Basileus shook his head, "I am amazed you would speak treason to me so openly. However, that is in the future, I believe we could help each other if we focused on the present. Symeon and the Patriarch need to be removed. I need evidence so I can finally rid myself of that troublesome Priest. What can you provide and what is the price?"

Alexander returns the stare. "I stated my price. I do not need the Caesar removed, only checked, if anything I do for you is to have any meaning. I made my House specifically to do so, with the basis of allying to whatever House opposed the Caesar if he grew to willful and alienated the Senators. Right now, that is what he has done, and if they people, the nobles, are given an alternative, such as the Patriarch, when there is no other way, they will take the Patriarch, inviting civil war as Symeon has planned!"

Aleksander breathes deeply to calm himself. "Please, your majesty, I only want whats best for the Empire. If the nobles even have the illusion that the Caesar is in check, they will not side with the Patriarch, and the threat to the Empire will be nipped, at least for now."

Aleksios turned away and took a few paces back towards Harald. Over his shoulder, he spoke in a constricted whisper, "Besides these generalities you mentioned, what do you want specifically? And what can you offer in return?"

Aleksander sighed resignedly. "I can offer information on what the Patriarchs and Symeons plans are, how they intend to implement them, how to take them both with minimal loss, how to round up the very last Organization members...I can even offer the very words each spoke..."

Aleksander pulled out the a tube which contained several scrolls and documents. "I want to insure the survivability of the Empire, I want my brother to have the life I could not share with him or give him, I want Aegyptus, Illyria, and Thrakia for my House...and I want my pain to end."

Aleksios glanced down at the tube and then back up, "I can offer you an Imperial Pardon for whatever you have done, however none of those territories are mine to give, unfortunately. I could promise not to interfere if oaths are broken, but I can't vouch for how the existing Houses will react to such a transformation."

Aleksander's grip loosens as his eyes grow downcast. "What good would a pardon do a man like me? I am hated, scorned, and derided by all Imperial citizens. A pardon would mean nothing...I have lost whatever good I created on promises from a man I trusted. All I want is to create a House that will bring balance to the Empire...and I intended it to be imprinted on their minds when they had to care for both ends of the Empire for their well being...now, it is almost gone...Kosmas is dead, the Patriarch is trying to force Hypatios upon us, we may lose Alexandria to the bloated House of Asteri, the Order scorns us because we want Cairo to cement our domain...I am a broken man Aleksios, and how I have longed for Death, but have refused it because my duty to fix my wrongs has kept me."

Aleksios stepped forward again, "What can I say? I cannot assuage your pain or turn back time. I need your help with the Patriarch, what do you want from me?"

Aleksander seems to loose focus, but then he looks up at Aleksios with a fire in his eyes. "Do something for the children of my brother...keep them safe, give them a future. That's all I ask really...is to repay my brother for what I have put him through." Aleksander hands Aleksios the scroll, but holds onto it tightly. "Do what you will with me...but do everything you can for my brother and his children. He deserves it." Aleksander loosens his grip on the scroll.

Aleksios took the scroll, "I swear upon my soul that I will protect them. Once I am gone, that duty will fall to Apionnas Vringas. If it is possible, I will pass it as well to one of my sons. . ."

A pained look crossed his face.

". . .Though I'm not sure if Ioannis will listen, perhaps Andronikos or Isaakios will. Is that satisfactory?"

Aleksander smiled cheerfully and his voice was humorous. "Please, unless the Caesar changes his attitude, don't ask him...it is acceptable." Aleksander takes a moment to look up through the grating before looking back at Aleksios. "I have spent most of my life in darkness, first as a Turkish slave, then as a rogue. I think it's finally time I stepped back into the light...and hope there is something there for me."

The Basileus nodded a bit grimly, "The past is unchangeable, the future is. . .uncertain, all we can do is to do our best now and hope it is enough. Thank you Aleksander, I hope you can find a measure of Grace."

Aleksander simply nodded. You do not mind if I simply make my presence known among the senators, do you?"

Aleksios replied, "As you wish, but don't get knifed by anyone. I may need your testimony to implicate the Patriarch. You brother is on the mend, you might want to visit him. Good day, Aleksander."

He turned, and flanked by Harald, slowly made his way back to the surface.

Aleksios's return (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=1994361&postcount=1238) to the Magnaura.

OverKnight

08-21-2008, 20:49

Constantinople, 1125

Synods, it seemed, were almost as long winded and filled with rancor as Senate Sessions. The assembled clergy brought their own views and opinions to it. While the language was more esoteric and ecclesiastical than in the Magnaura, division and strife were no less evident, particularly with the exclusion of Nicholas III from the Synod. It was unorthodox, but the recent Patriarchal "reinterpretation" of Canon Law, throwing into doubt the last 500 years of Church policy, had already roiled the waters.

Candidates for the newly open seat of the Patriarchate of Constantinople were interviewed. Their views on many issues sought by the assembled Priests. The first question asked by the Basileus, however, was always the same:

"What is your opinion on the primacy of the Patriarch of Constantinople within the hierarchy of the Church?"

All in all, the Synod went on for a long time.

AussieGiant

08-22-2008, 16:37

Cairo, 1124
The Saracen's Story

A dimly lit room with no direct light saw the battered and bruised figure of Apionnas Vringas strapped into a chair. Stripped bare from the waste up, his hands were tied behind his back, his head hung low, blood dripping from his chin.

"I'll ask you one more time, and if you don't give me an answer I'll be forced to let my friend here work on you some more!!"

The hooded figure standing above Apionnas grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back viciously.

"Why, are, you, here??!!"

Silence.

"Who are you working for and where are your agents!?"

Silence.

Suddenly the man’s accomplice lashed out with a heavy rope tied into a series of large knots. One knot connected directly with and open wound running along Apionnas’s rib cage. The only response was a hiss of pain from between clenched teeth.

A moment passed while all three men waited for the pain to subside.

Finally Apionnas spoke.

"I'm here because I need to be here."

Both torturers blinked through their masks. It was the first time the captive has spoken in days. In a fit of spite at the glib answer the man held his head back and punched Apionnas directly in the eye.

"Well well well. He talks. Finally the Saracen has something to say."

The man holding the corded rope stood back and surveyed the scene.

"What did he just say?" he asked his accomplice.

"I think he said he is here to stir up trouble?"

The small look of confusion by the man holding the rope was replaced quickly by an understanding of what his colleague was trying to do.

"Exactly," he replied, "that's what I heard him say as well. It's seems the Senator here is making a visit to Egypt and especially Cairo to stir up trouble."

The man stood above Apionnas continued the story. "Absolutely, he seems to have admitted that he's here to undermine the Crusade." In feigned horror he added, "What a shocking thing to do. Especially for an Orthodox Christian and member of the Byzantine nobility. I'm sure the Patriarch would be highly unamused."

Apionnas shook his head at the game being played by his two captives.

"You aren't going to succeed, you know."

GeneralHankerchief

08-22-2008, 16:40

Cairo, 1124
The Agents' Argument

Confidential report
To: His Eminence Patriarch of Constantinople Nicholas III
From: Orthodox Task Force Brave Eagle, Cairo Branch
Re: Saracen Infiltrator

FOR THE EYES OF THE PATRIARCH ONLY. EXTRA MEASURES HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO ENSURE SECURE DELIVERY.

Your Eminence,

Saracen suspect was positively identified as Magnaura Senator Apionnas Vringas, of the House of None, and MIA for some period of time. Target was marked and observed for some time, with observers making careful note of his activities. Objective: unknown, but he was conversing with several known persons of mistrust.

Eventually Task Force Brave Eagle came to the conclusion that Target was notifying key persons about the incoming Crusade and several potential battle strategies to be used by the Greek generals. Agents made their move and intercepted Target before he made contact with another potential informant. His possessions were seized and Target was taken to interrogation to confirm agents' suspicions.

After several days of questioning the Senator was unresponsive until one night when directly questioned on why he was present in Cairo. Vringas answered using the following exact quote: "I'm here because I need to be here."

Fed up with the lack of answers, the interrogators switched tactics and attempted more persuasive methods to get the Senator to talk.

Agents then voiced the suspicions of Task Force Brave Eagle as to why Vringas was present in Cairo, especially a former Mohammedan to gauge his reaction. Suspect only responded with the phrase: "You aren't going to succeed, you know."

The interrogation continues. The important thing is that the infiltrator has been detained and the Crusade has not been betrayed, at least for now. Additional updates will be provided when additional progress has been made.

AussieGiant

08-24-2008, 20:48

Cairo, 1125

The Mansuriyya Commander stared intently at his Amir, waiting for any sign that might indicate the attack should begin. He quickly glanced back at the building that was clearly visible from their concealed vantage point.

While staring at the nondescript structure now ringed by some of his best troops, he thought back to the events over the past months.

He should have met Christian Hardy on numerous occasions, the process of cross checking information as part of the investigation was also a passive alarm of sorts. If either party did not show it meant something was wrong and the standing assumption was the entire relationship was in jeopardy.

That day had come and past, and after informing his Amir of the situation, the majority of the regiment was quietly tasked with find the ex-officer and ensuring his survival. It seemed the Infidel had some influence with the Amir and perhaps others.

At some point while recalling these thoughts of the past few months he quietly heard his Amir give the order to proceed.

The commander raised his arm, the lookout across the street saw the sign. A few moments later the company burst into action.

******************

The sounds of violent struggle and sword play reached down into the basement where Apionnas was bound tightly to a chair.

He waited, tension building in his body as the sounds of fighting drew closer.

Suddenly the door burst open, the familiar hooded form of one of his captors lurched into the room, blood running from a a deep wound to his arm, a wicked looking knife in his other hand. Realising his assailant had nothing but murder on his mind Apionnas began struggling in his chair, his bonds where viciously tight but that did not stop him from frantically trying to put distance between himself and the hooded man at the other end of the room.

The chair tipped, the world tilted, his head cracked against the flag stone a mist of red and purple descended. He realised consciousness was fading and with it any chance of survival.

He felt the cold tip of steel against his throat.

The next feeling would be the warm gush of blood across his chest.

The knife bit deeply, the blood began to pour...darkness.

Warmaster Horus

08-25-2008, 00:05

Somewhere west of Caesaria, 1125

Nikiphoros Manouelitis was had just ordered another pint of beer, when he returned to his table, in an inn by the side of the road. One of those places where people mind their own business, guard their pouches well, and wait anxiously for the next morning when they can leave for wherever they're going.
Nikiphoros was no different from them. He was with a couple of companions, on his way to Caesaria, where Ioannis Kalameteros was conducting a siege of the town. And Nikiphoros was going to join him. His main thoughts ran along the lines of "Finally, a true military posting!", and "Lord, will I be up to the task?". And those thoughts kept running through his head as he got ever closer to Ioannis' army. He wondered what type of duties he'd have. Maybe leader of the cavalry, or of the infantry? But in the end, he told himself, it didn't matter. He was going to serve the Empire, and that was the most important duty of all.
His tankard was brought back by his equerry Pavlos, who had served him loyally since his entrance to the Magnaura. He sat next to Markianos, Nikiphoros' bodyguard. The inn was quiet enough, considering there were about a dozen people in the room. But all kept to themselves.
Which is why most were startled when a man barged in the inn, half-wrecking the door, and although obviously very tired, shouted: "It is ours! It is reconquered!"
The barman, unhappy at the state of affairs, took out his knife and pointed it at the intruder. "Calm down! What happened that's important enough to break down my door?!"
"Caesaria has fallen to the Byzantine General Kalameteros! This region is Roman once more! Spread the word!" He said.
The newsbearer then proceeded to faint of exhaustion. The others turned back to their occupations, while Nikiphoros turned to his companions.
"If this is true, then we can rest here tonight. I had planned to go further on, but it seems it is not necessary. Ioannis will probably not need my company until the army marches again. Come! Let's have a good night's rest, and tomorrow, we can continue."

OOC: The reconquest of Caesaria hasn't been proclaimed yet I think, but I think the inhabitants of a region would know soon what happened, and since Nikiphoros is in that region...

AussieGiant

08-25-2008, 08:36

Cairo, 1125

The blue robed Amir looked down at the figure on the floor.

He was a mess to say the least. Two soliders were binding his wounds while a doctor supervised their work.

"Will he live?" The Amir's question was without emotion.

The doctor glanced up. "Yes, he has a strong will and does not want to pass from this world just yet."

The Amir grunted a response.

The torn figure below began whispering something over and over again. He could just hear the words.

"shukran....shukran...shukran"

Nodding the Amir said quietly to no one; "Aafwaan, my boy. Aafwaan."

Smowz

08-25-2008, 14:15

Anatolia 1226

A cold wind bits through the air as Nevoulas ek Philadelphuis rides through the mountains in central Anatolia. He walks proudly with his long serving bodyguards along a well mark road, recalling the rough trails he had to come scurrying up the other way in his youth.

The last ten years had been long and uneventful, however as expected Nevoulas' short time in the Capitol had been far from it. He shakes his head at his own confusion of the debacle and often baffling practices of his fellows who practice politics in the main cities. Now, Nevoulas is happier riding through the country even if it is somewhat risky.

There was some concern amongst his elite bodyguard at the journey from Smyrna in the west the lack of any known villages or watchtowers along the route had concerned them and rightly so - there was still the threat of large Turkish Jihad armies lurking on the peninsula.

Upon cresting another the endless hills, Nevoulas eyes narrows as he sees a large army to the North. Shouting back at his troops he urges them to prepare themselves to flee - his small bodygaurd would be no match for an organizing many man Jihad. Steeling himself he turns to a to take a look at the army and try to decipher its size and direction.

Nevoulas hidden away on Rhodes for some time is unfamilar with the current set-ups in the Turkish army but he cannot believe what he is seeing - the set-up seems western in structure - almost Northern European. He gasps - surely, the Turks cannot have extended their realm that far. He had heard of ludicrious ambitions that the seljuks might travel north and around the Black sea but he could not have imagined.

Shaking, he considers the alternatives and suddenly it becomes clear - he had heard of the crusading movement declared from the Catholic pope. Eben further he discussed the rumours that some of the crusades had made it as far as Roman soil. This could perhaps be such an army - doubts form in his mind perhaps it is a trick by the Turks?

Wishing to inspect for himself - Nevoulas determines that he himself will go for a closer look instructing his army to continue on the road to Iconium, Nevoulas strikes out toward the great army.

Riding up to the army confirmed with some relief to Nevoulas that this was indeed a western crusade and not a Turkish Jihad as he first feared. Dismounting and calmly approaching them Nevoulas was greeted hostilely, these barbarians spoke Latin with fierce almost indecipherable dialect. He made out the words Alexandria and Levant quite clearly and despite trying to explain the more striking threats of the Turks conversation seemed to reach an impasse.

Resigned but relieved Nevoulas rode out to rejoin his bodygaurd, further down the road looking forward to meeting up with his friend Zigavinos in Iconium.

ULC

08-25-2008, 22:23

Adana, 1125

Iakovos dreamed peacefully in his bed, his wounds finally starting to heal. He dreamed he was in a field of flowers, his mother, father, and eldest brother there, waiting for him, happy to see him. The air smelled sweet and was pleasantly cool...it was so inviting...Iakovos thought he might just stay forever.

Evdaemon despised working like this. Poison was for the coward, an honest man used cold steel and iron! He shook his head as he watched Iakovos fade from the world as the fast acting poison silently and painlessly killed him, as ordered by his lord. Evdaemon turned to leave, only to meet the terrible gaze of Lady Veronica. He clutched his throat, now torn open by Veronica's lightning quick attack. Evdaemon sank to his knees gasping for breathe as blood poured out past his fingers. He gazed desperately at the blood as it dripped from his hands and pooled upon the stone floor. He felt the impulse to reach down and try to gather it all back up, felt as his body screamed for air. His world slowly blackened as his vision faded. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as if thousands were staring at him and laughing maniacally...and the laughter would never end.

Veronica felt her anger boil over as she used her concealed dagger to slice open Evdaemon's throat. As the pitiful man died a most slow and painful death, Veronica rushed to Iakovos's side. Her rage turned into sorrow as she felt his fading puls in her hands. "Please, Ike, not you...please, stay with me...you did not deserve this, please, oh please...stay with me...". Veronica held onto Iakovos, tears streaming down her cheeks, praying Ike would come back to her. She held him for the most of the night, held him even after the physicians were called, held him even after the last bit of life faded away from Iakovos. Veronica looked down, her eyes now red and her face stained from tears, at Iakovos, who seemed at peace. She smiled sadly at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and whispered softly to him, "I will always love you my Ike...now and forever...".

Privateerkev

08-26-2008, 02:07

Antioch 1126:

Makedonios sat in bed surrounded by correspondence, paperwork, and troop orders. An aide pushed a cart into the room with more paperwork. The job was one gigantic exercise in writing. Writing letters. Writing troop orders. Writing construction approvals. Writing, writing, writing.

Sometimes he wondered if his hand would be raw from holding the pen so much. But, when your stuck sick in bed, you have nothing but time. Odd that his illness could make him uniquely suited to the job of Megas.

Pausing to sip some tea, Mak saw an aide come in with yet another letter. Wondering who this letter was from, the Grandmaster noticed the aide was wearing Iakovos's livery. Curious, he undid the seal and looked at the letter.

Guards rushed in when they heard the tea cup shatter on the floor. With swords drawn, they entered to see their lord doubled over on the bed as if in pain.

The rushed to him. "My lord, are you ok?"

Makedonios roared, "LEAVE!!!!!!"

Despite not knowing why, the men were too well trained to disobey. They ran out of the room and closed the door. On the other side, they could hear muffled sobs.

Privateerkev

08-26-2008, 17:30

This story was a co-op between TheFlax, YLC, and myself.

Constantinople 1126:

Makedonios took a break from the Senate to go to his Chambers. Walking down a hallway, he saw the small library the Order kept to help them do Senate business. As he often did when he saw the library, he thought of Iakovos. The man had been a driving force towards developing the Order's libraries and Makedonios could almost picture the man sitting in a chair with some book or another on his lap.

When ever he thought of Iakovos, he thought back to the past. He tried to think of things he should have noticed. Warning signs he should have picked up on. There was something that happened before the 1125 Senate Session and it was just coming to him now.

Antioch 1124:

A small family makes it's way through the streets of Antiokheia. A man in the colors of the Order of St. John, a woman of raven hair in modest dress, and two children, a boy and girl, the boy holding on to his mothers hand and quiet, the young girl bright eyed and eager.

"Chara, please, don't touch!"
The little girl looks up at her father with pleading eyes.The mother looks at him warmly. "It is only an apple Iakovos, let her have it." Iakovos looks down at Chara with a defeated smile, and reaches into his coin purse to give the vendor the required amount. The mother looks down at the boy with a smile. "Demetrios, do you want one too?" Demetrios looks up at his mother. "I guess so..." Without missing a beat, Chara slides up and out of her dress pops another apple. "Here ya Demy!"

Iakovos seems shocked. "Chara! I told you...oh, Veronica, she listens to you so much better then me." Veronica knelt down and brushed away Chara's long brown hair as Iakovos apologetically handed over yet more coins to the agitated vendor. "Chara, what have we discussed about taking things that don't belong to you?" Chara seems dismayed. "But All I did was get one for Demy because he never asks." Veronica shakes her head. "You still shouldn't take without asking Chara, it is not polite." Chara looks defeated, but while Veronica is not looking, Demetrios gives Chara a wink and a smile.

Taking both children in hand, Veronica and Iakovos make there way to Makedonios usual spot.

Makedonios sat at his normal table in the market sipping mint tea. The day was beautiful. Warmth from the sun helped him feel a little better physically. The pneumonia was a constant companion now. He wondered if he would ever be well again. But for the moment, sipping on the sweet bitter tea with the sun shining made him happy.

He saw a familiar figure walking up to him with his family in tow. Makedonios smiled and offered the family a seat at his table.

"Sergeant Iakovos! Good to see you on this fine day." He nods to Veronica. "M'lady, good to see you again as well." He kneels in front of the children and smiles warmly at them. "And who might these two be?"

Chara runs forward and bows before Makedonios. "I'm Chara m'lord! And that over there is Demy, he's my brother. He's really quite and doesn't talk much, and he's afraid of everything." Demy seems to want to say something, but instead he closes his mouth and stands in the shadow of Veronica. "It's okay Demetrios, that is the Grandmaster of the Order of St. John."

Makedonios was fast approaching forty these days and his face was lined. His lines wrinkled as he smiled big to Chara while sitting on his haunches.

"Hi Chara! It's very nice to meet you! I see you have an apple. And thank you for telling me about your brother. But lets see if we can get him to talk."

The Grandmaster turned to the small boy and smiled even wider. "Hi Demy! How are you? It's ok. You don't have to be afraid. Your parents are here and will keep you safe. You have to learn to act even when your scared. One day you'll have to do things without mom and dad. And it will be scary. But you'll have to it anyways." Having talked enough, Makedonios waited to see if Demy would say anything.

With a little urging, Demetrios stepped forward. "I'm not afraid...I'm just as brave as my dad...I'm going to be a knight one day, just like my dad."

Chara giggled. "Sure Demy...and I'll squish all the spiders for you."

Makedonios kept his smile.

"Well everyone gets scared sometimes. Even Knights of the Order of St. John. I still have nightmares, do you know that? I have them about the day I got this..." With that, he points at the scar on his face.

"Everybody gets scared. And if they don't then they are either crazy or lying. What matters is what you do while your scared."

Chara looks back at Makedonios. "Well, I'm never scared. Nothing scares me at all, except mommy when I pilfer something..." Chara blushes as Veronica gives her a look. Veronica looks at Makedonios with an defeated smile. "She seems to have a knack for theft we are trying to get out of her, but so far it seems irrepressible., and all she does is get better at it. Demy here though has already started to show a scholarly streak. We hope he may start attending schooling here at Antiokheia soon."

It is Demetrios's turn to blush. He seems ready to hide back in his mothers shadow, but hesitates. "Grandmaster, you think a Knight can be smart and strong?"

Makedonios looks up at Iakovos as he answers the young boy.

"Well your father sure managed."

He looks back at Demy. "I'm sure you'll follow in his footsteps. I can already tell that you make him proud."

He turns to Chara with a mock-serious look on his face. "And you know stealing is not nice. You hurt who ever you steal from, you know that?"

Chara looks dismayed. "I don't hear them say ow...but if you say so." Chara pulls out another stolen apple she had hidden and hands it over to Makedonios. "Can you return that to the guy daddy paid so he can stop saying ow?"

Demetrios on the other hand brightens considerably from Makedonios's words. "Really? Dad says he's gonna teach me how to fight when I get to be seven...can you teach me to?" Veronica sighs at Demetrios enthusiasm. "Forgive him Grandmaster, he has grown enamored with the stories we read to them at night, and Demetrios here has taken a liking to Belisarius...and Ike has a tendency to compare you with him as well."

Makedonios said gently to Chara, "well if your daddy paid the man, then you having this does not hurt him."

He turned to Demy, "Do not worry, your training will come in time. You have a couple good teachers here already. I do not know what I could teach you that they can't but I will try."

The Grandmaster's thighs were hurting from being in a squatting position for so long so he stood up. He replied to Veronica lightheartedly.

"Comparing me to Belisarius eh? Well, the part about lacking support from the Emperor is certainly accurate. Don't know about the rest." With that, he chuckled. He then waved to the table.

"Please come and sit. I told the others that we would be here. If any of them wish to join us, they should be here soon."

Cutting a swat through the marketplace throng, a large group of armed men bearing the livery of House Asteri made their way toward Makedonios. As they approached, they fanned out, surrounding the small group and letting way for the wife of Ioannis Kalameteros. As usual, she was dressed in an exquisite ornate tunica, her hair covered by a heavily embroidered palla of matching pastels. As her gaze drifted to Makedonios, Anna’s cold expression was replaced by a warm smile, highlighted by the light rouge on her pale cheeks.

“Grandmaster, it is, as always, a pleasure.” She nodded curtly to Iakovos and Veronica.

Makedonios nodded to the Princess.

"As always, the pleasure is all mine. I'm glad you were able to make it. Please, join us for some tea."

He gestured towards the table and waited for Iakovos to introduce his family.

Iakovos smiles warmly and bows, while Veronica raises an eyebrow. Iakovos gestures to Chara and Demetrios. "These are the children, Chara and Demetrios. Chara, Demetrios, say hello to Princess Anna."

Chara seems taken by Anna at first glance. "Wow, thats a nice dress you have, mommy doesn't have one like that. Do you like apples? What's your favorite color?"

Demetrios hung back though, eyeing the guards around Anna.

Anna pursed her lips in mute dissaproval, before answering in a gentle tone.

"I fail to see the relevance of your questions, but I will indulge you. I do not dislike apples, or any fruit for that matter. As for a specific color, I must admit it depends on varying factors."

Satisfied she had given pointless answers to irrelevant questions, she continued.

"If you truly appreciate my tunica, perhaps you should visit our great capital, where you will be able to find the finest tailors in the Empire." Anna appraised Veronica's clothing before adding, "Your mother verily should consider it."

Turning her gaze on Demetrios, the Princess gave him a reassuring smile.

"Worry not, the presence of these men is merely a formality my husband insists upon, there is no need to be shy."

Chara's faces became a picture of puzzlement. "So your favorite color is 'factors'?" Demetrios giggled but stifled it before whispering something to Chara. Chara suddenly blushed, before bowing and taking a step back and muttering. "Oops" to herself.

Demetrios smiled back at Anna. "But why do you need so many? The Order will protect you here. You don't have to worry at all."

Iakovos took a seat next to Makedonios while watching the kids, while Veronica bowed slightly to Anna. "Thank you for the suggestion, but as a wife of an Order member, I prefer to keep inexpensive tastes."

Anna nodded slightly toward Veronica before answering the little boy.

"One rarely errs by being overly cautious in such matters."

Makedonios simply sipped his tea and enjoyed watching the interaction of the Princess and the children.

Demetrios seemed to only catch half of what Anna was saying, but at least got the spirit of it.

"So, your h-u-s-b-a-n-d worries about you? Like mommy does me and Chara?

Meanwhile Iakovos motions to Makedonios, mouthing silently "We need to talk."

Constantinople 1126:

Makedonios was still standing there outside the library. He now remembered that day well. Iakovos had come to him and needed to talk. But with everyone around, Makedonios had simply brushed it off and said they could talk later. But the Senate Session had become busy with the election. And when Ike was attacked, Mak forgot about the fact that they were supposed to have a conversation earlier.

With a shake of his head, Makedonios avoided the library and continued walking down the hall.

OverKnight

08-28-2008, 06:14

The lead in (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=2000886&postcount=1384) to the story.

Constantinople, 1128

The sound of hundreds of men marching rang throughout the city. Much of the Imperial Army had left its barracks in various quarters of the capital and began to converge on the Patriarchal Palace. The citizens of Constantinople, having heard dark rumors from the Senate, quickly cleared the streets.

The army established a cordon around the residence of the Patriarch as the Basileus approach on horse. Mounted Varangians were with him, as well as the Patriarchal Represenative, bound to an ass and still spluttering his outrage.

Aleksios and his bodyguard dismounted at the gates of the palace. The Basileus grimly nodded as he surveyed the situation. He signaled one of his men and the Represenative's fetters were cut. The man dropped from his mount into the dust cursing.

"What treachery is this!? You dare move against his Holiness? Is there no heresy to which you will not sink?"

Aleksios glanced back at him, "I seek to speak with Nicholas. I've heard he is notoriously hard to see in person. You, his lickspittle, will arrange an audience with him now. That or my soldiers will."

The Represenative glanced around nervously, "But. . ."

Aleksios interrupted, "You have ten minutes to do this, at that time I'll be coming in, with Nicholas's leave or no."

Harald roughly pushed the Represenative toward the gates. Panicked the man began to run to the palace.

Aleksios spoke again, quietly, "Give his Holiness my regards."

woad&fangs

08-28-2008, 19:39

co-op with Ibn-Khaldun
Alexandria 1128

After a long march across the Nile delta, Laskaris finally approaches the eastern gate of Alexandria. Soldiers are lined up all atop the battlements. Their armour shining in the hot noon sun. Glaring down from the wall is Solomon, his crimson cloak blowing in the breeze.

“Ah, Laskaris! I see you’ve finally grown a spine and have come to face me in battle!”

"Open the gate, you baboon. I am here with the orders of Megas. Me and my men are here to garrison the city and to keep public order in check. And because you can't do the job then Methodios' have pointed me as the governor of Alexandria."

Efstathios smiles when saying the last sentence..

"And now open the gate!" he yells.

“Garrison the city! Governor! No, never! This is just another one of your plots. Well I’ve heard enough of your lies! This ends now!!”

Solomon attaches a rope to the battlements and repels down the wall in dramatic fashion. Once at the bottom he unsheathes his sword and charges, yelling "Sol-O-Mon!!!". He only takes a few steps before realizing that something is wrong. Looking around, he realizes that not a single person followed him.

A soldier on the wall yells down, “According to the charter, we can’t leave the city without Methodios’ permission. Sorry.”

Noticing the gleeful look in the eyes of Laskaris’ soldiers, Solomon makes a hasty retreat back to the rope and scurries up the wall as fast as he can. Still panting from the exertion, he yells down to Laskaris, “Fine, gasp but I still don’t have to gasp let you in!!! gasp”

The previously mentioned soldier coughs loudly. “What is it now?” Solomon demands impatiently. The soldier replies, “According to the charter you have to let him into the settlement.”

“What!!! There has to be some loophole you oaf. Find me a #%@# loophole!!!”

“Sorry sir, but I’m afraid that you’ll have to let him in. On the bright side, the extra soldiers will help...”

Solomon cuts him off, “Fine!!! Let him in. But I know he’s here to cause trouble, regardless of what he says. Make sure to keep a close eye on him.”

Unable to control his rage any longer, he storms off yelling obscenities about charters and regulations.

Efstathios and his men laugh when they see Solomon leave.

"This will be interesting," he says smiling to one of his bodyguards.

"Forward men!" he says to his men and rides in front of the army towards the city.

Reluctantly, the soldiers inside the walls open the gate and let Laskaris’ army in. The men who crusaded with Solomon look nervously around at each other. They know that this can’t end well...

Privateerkev

08-28-2008, 21:22

This is a co-op between myself and TheFlax.

Constantinople 1126:

Time ambled by as Anna poured over a plethora of texts, if only to keep up with current events and her duties in the University of Constantinople. Nowadays, when she was not reading some missive or report, she found herself busy writing a score or so. Yet, she relished the challenge and could not be more content, if only more time could be spent with her children.

With a sigh, she lifted her gaze of the scroll and noticed most of the candles on her simple wooden desk were nearly depleted, signifying she had once more spent most of the day in her study. Anna decided she would read only two more letters before retiring for the evening meal, as always it had been an exacting day.

Makedonios walked through the halls of the university. He saw a plaque on the door and knew he found it. Opening the door, he saw her sitting at her desk. As always, his heart fluttered a little and his breathing changed. For the first time in weeks, his features softened.

"Greetings Your Highness."

Recognizing the familiar voice, Anna ceased writing and lifted her gaze to him, a friendly smile across her features. her pampered face had changed little since her youth, yet her eyes had lost their past glimmer.

"Makedonios, I am glad you could make it. I understand how busy you must be these days."

He nodded and came in. But since he had not yet been invited to sit, he kept standing. He had aged much in the past few years. His eyes had circles and his face had more lines. As always, a napkin was at hand if his sickness caused him to cough.

"It's a busy job Your Highness. I see why so few people run for it. But I'm still glad I did. Gives me the chance to do some good."

He paused for a moment and looked at her. To him, she hadn't changed at all. He suspected he would see her as he did then. Before the pause became awkward, he spoke.

"I appreciate the invitation to talk. The past few weeks have been... hard."

The smile faded from her face.

"Yes... Iakovos will be missed."

Any possibility of a smile creeping onto his face died at the mention of Iakovos's name. His death had weighed heavily on Makedonios. He stared at some invisible point on the wall. With a quiet voice, he said, "He was the first one of mine that I lost you know. I had a couple people retire but even with all the battles I had never lost one." He looked up at her. "He was my responsibility."

"Yet you were not responsible for his death." Anna motioned him to sit. "You cannot be expected to watch after every one of them incessantly. Casting blame on yourself is woefully unfair."

He sat heavily. "But these people joined me because they believed in what I was doing. And he didn't die in battle. He was killed in his sleep by a coward. I knew people were after him. He almost bled out on the Senate floor last year."

His head shook as he realized he hadn't actually made a point yet. "Bah, I'm just rambling. I apologize."

"No need." A faint reassuring smile appeared on her lips. "You can speak freely here."

He thought for a few seconds before speaking. "It was that Organization that did it. I just know it. One side or the other, it doesn't matter. I'm convinced they are all bad. His own brother created a monster and it finally killed Iakovos."

"We always knew they amounted to no good, but we are poorly equipped to fight them." She sighed. "Somehow, I always expected you or I would be their victim... not Iakovos."

His head nodded. "I always worried that they would finally get to you. For some reason you've always been a magnet for crazies. But Iakovos... he was always so innocent. He had this naive idealistic view of the world. But it was refreshing. You stay in politics long enough, and it is easy to get cynical. But for some reason, the stench of the Senate never touched him. We are truly the worse off without him."

Anna nodded in understanding. "Now all we can do for him is to bring his killer to justice."

He grunted in agreement. "Oh that we will do. I am tired of people bickering over which side of the Organization is 'good' and which is 'bad'. I see both sides trying to fan the flames of conflict in the Senate. I am certain that Iakovos was killed by one of these men. And, despite what side they claim to be on, both factions in this group are responsible for the current situation."

She rose and passed Makedonios. "But, I am certain you did not simply come here to hold such a dreary discussion." The door closed, locked.

His heart skipped a beat when she moved past him. He caught a whiff of her scent and he swore that part of her outfit brushed his arm. He waited until she moved back around to where he could face her.

"No, I wanted to see you again."

"I also wanted to see you again." The words came out as a mere whisper. "I find myself continuously worried for your wellbeing."

He grunted. "Funny, but I've always been worried about your wellbeing. You've been threatened and attacked more times than I can remember. I am flattered that you are concerned about me Your Highness, but I am a crusty old soldier. I'll be fine."

"I wish I could share your certainty." Anna hesitated. "I hope your term as Megas will not give you more enemies."

Makedonios chuckled slightly. "I'm not sure if I could possibly have more enemies than I already do. No, once people see that I am fairly distributing the Empire's wealth, they'll see I am not that big bad bogeyman I am made out to be."

While saying the next, he flashed the Princess a small smile. "At least some of you have always been there for me."

She smiled lightly at his comment, but her features rapidly returned to a more somber note. "Do you think I have erred in naming Methodios as a scholar? I had no idea he would go against the law, whatever his motives may be. Somehow, I feel I should have known better, given my dislike of most of his previous actions."

Both his eyebrows went up in slight surprise at the subject change and in thought. "Methodios? Nah, I don't think you erred. He's not as bad a guy as people say. He just needs some of the snobby crust rubbed off of him. He should be punished but his head shouldn't be on a pike or anything. Your brother broke multiple Rules and nothing ever happened to him. Hypatios exterminated at least 6000 people and he is doing all fine in dandy in his new House."

Anna considered his words and sat down again. "I hold neither in higher regard than Methodios, as you surely know."

Makedonios nodded. "I know. I think I can safely say that Methodios is a cut above those two. So, how is it being Dean?"

"Constant preoccupations and responsabilities." She gave Makedonios a faint smile. "Although it permits me to make sure there is some sort of equity in the University, and for that I am glad."

He returns her smile. "And for that I'm grateful. I'm glad the position hasn't become blatantly partisan. Education should be for everyone."

Anna gave him a nod. "Hopefully that will be true for all of the Empire's institutions."

Makedonios laughed. "With your brother ascending the throne soon, that won't be likely." He chuckled for a bit. "Your Highness, thank you, I needed to laugh and talk for awhile. As always I thank you for your time and sympathetic ear. But I should get going back to my office. A pile of letters has probably materialized in my absence." He gets up to leave but pauses so she can reply.

"I fully understand." She indicated the stacks of papers on her desk. "I have to take care of these. Stay well Makedonios."

"And you do the same." With a smile and a nod, Makedonios left the office.

Ramses II CP

08-29-2008, 03:48

Cairo, 1128

There was chaos in the streets as the Crusaders occupied Cairo. The final battle had very nearly been an after thought, with the young, freshly crowned Sultan dramatically over-estimating the valor of his men yet again. When the relief force out of the south had attacked the Byzantine camp, he actually abandoned the walls to join the attack. Though he and a single man from his guard escaped, they were later found dead on the road, and Cairo was unheld against the Greek army.

Crusaders Ksiros and Amarinthou immediately struck out for the city center to assume control and try to restore order, taking most of the army with them. Vissarionas rode carefully towards the Christian quarter, hoping to find good news of his old stomping grounds. His men had explicit orders to harm no one in clearing a path through the swirling masses, and in general the people shrank back from the advancing soldiers and gave way. Still, progress was slow, and it took most of an hour to even reach the edge of the quarter.

Signs were not good. The streets had been blocked off with barricades, some of them obviously only recently abandoned, and there was no noise, no sign of life from outside them.

'Tear those down. Break me a way in. No, no, give me the axe!'

Impatiently Vissa tore at the wood, throwing his whole body into the work. A dozen of his guardsmen helped with pry bars and swords while the remaining soldiers watched their backs warily, and soon the path was clear. Rafi came forward to enter with Vissa, but Vissa waved him back with a curt gesture and went in alone.

...moments later he was back, gray faced and visibly ill.

'They burned it. Burned it right to the ground, with all of them in it. Coptics, Gnostics, Greeks... women, children... Hundreds of them huddled in the church, and the God cursed butchers just put it to the torch and left it there.'

Vissa abruptly bent double and emptied his stomach all over his boots. Many of the men looked uneasy at this display of weakness, but Rafi went to him and helped him straighten back up, and then spoke soothingly to him,

'M'lord some must have escaped! The whole quarter couldn't have been packed into the church together, it's simply impossible! Many, perhaps even most, got away, fled to the countryside.'

Grimly Vissa shook his head, 'More like the Sultan drug them out and killed them where their corpses could feed his crops. No, it's just like Antioch Rafi. I failed! I failed them all again! If there's a Christian alive in this city today it's only because he lied about his faith, and what sort of man could bear to do that?'

'We spared them! We came in peace to protect our own, and we turned the other cheek! For what?'

Vissarionas ek Lesvou threw back his head and screamed like a condemned man being flayed on the rack. The few citizens of Cairo who were still about drew back at the sound. Rushing out into the street beyond his stunned bodyguards Vissa siezed a young man, too young to serve in the military as yet, and roared at him in choppy Arabic,

'We spared you! Why, why was this done? We came to save them! WHY?'

The boy was shaken roughly, but made no resistance, no sound at all. At last Rafi pulled Vissa away and waved for the boy to move on. The young Egyptian fled quickly, but Vissa was dead weight in Rafi's slight arms, and he could not hold him up. Both of them collapsed in the street while the guards gazed on uncomfortably and kept watch. In a quiet, broken voice Vissa spoke for Rafi's ears alone.

'Why... why do we live this way Rafi? If God is great why does he not turn the hearts of the infidel away from their wickedness? If the temptation to evil is a test, then surely all men fail, and all are consigned at last to Hell, infidel, believer, heretic, and atheist alike... and the Emperor dodders towards the grave, leaving our Empire once more in the hands of an mad, destructive incompetent. Are we better? Was Alexandria a symbol of Byzantine superiority?'

'Is Cairo? These people, they... they've just seen our kind butchered by the hundreds, and we sought no vengeance. They will not respect us, they will not respect the need for order.' An angry sigh escapes from Vissa, and he begins to stand again, having regained his strength. First he whispers one last question for Rafi,

'What must I do to stop being a butcher Rafi?'

Shaking his head to clear it, Vissarionas begins to order his men to mount back up when a messenger arrives from the south gate, where the Crusaders entered the city. He roughly salutes Vissa before speaking,

'M'lord there's a pack of Bedouin askin' after you at the gate. Say they're friends. We nearly filled 'em with arrows when they rode up, but they were carrying this.'

So saying the man produces a crudely drawn replica of the ek Lesvou family crest against a white, cloth background. On one corner are written a few Arabic letters.

The change in Vissa is palpable. His stance strengthens, and his back straightens. He gestures imperiously for the messenger to be off, and then kicks his boots against an upturned paving stone to knock the worst of the vomit off before mounting. At his curt order the men fall in behind him, and they all ride back to the gate at a faster pace, roughly clearing any slow moving peasants from their path.

Waiting there, just inside the archway, are twenty or so Bedouins wrapped head to toe in loose, light cloth. None of them can be told from any other at a glance, but even so Vissa all but leaps from his horse and rushes forward to grab a slight figure in well made white garmets and hug it, no, her tightly. A single gesture from Vissa is enough to indicate that Stephen is to take command of the guardsmen and give his general some time. The Bedouin spits out some rapid fire Arabic to her companions and then the two of them adjourn, hand in hand, to the nearby guard house.

(...to be continued...)

:egypt:

Ramses II CP

08-29-2008, 19:33

Cairo, 1128, continued

Hours passed, long and dull for those without, short and sweet for those within the guardhouse. Words, having been unecessary for so long, came during one languid pause an indeterminate length of time into their meeting.

'You know, boy, you're going to regret going easy on these people. They've known only the rule of Allah and the strength of the sword for too long. You've broken their armies, but not their will to fight,' Aliya's voice remained heavenly, taunting, teasing, always dancing ahead of her conversational partners, though a certain natural thickening that came with age to the rest of her was now obvious absent her Bedouin garb. Despite being younger than Vissa by several years she insisted on referring to him in the diminutive.

'How could I put the city to the sword without knowing if you were still inside it or not? Aliya, how could I put any city to the sword after Antioch? I lived among these people.' Vissa's voice had roughed with age, and was less clear since he'd lost teeth on the voyage, but no one could mistake the essential innocence still present in him.

Satisfaction shone in Aliya's eyes at what Vissa had said first, but she hid it quickly, and her voice filled with sarcasm, 'Oh yes, of course, after your glorious exit from Cairo how could the Sultan fail to worship me even more? How could he resist elevating me to first concubine and building me my own palace in the city?! It isn't as though you were on your way to meet me when the wild hair took you to start a holy war!'

'It... wait... that's not at all what happened Aliya!'

'Oh no? Well, I suppose I should know that already from all the letters you've sent me over the years! The line of messengers stretching hand in hand right across the desert, and every merchant ship in the sea carrying your coin to deliver sweet nothings into my ear? Alas, I must report, every one of them failed to reach me. I suppose the Sultan had them executed as well, eh?'

'But... I... how?'

'At least, praise the gods, when you finally landed here in Egypt you sped to my side to rescue me from the soldiers of the Sultan like a hero out of legend, yes? Slaying the Sultan's armies with one hand while hoisting me safely into the air with the other?'

'Aliya, no... there... it...' Vissa sputtered like a fool, her accusations having chased away any semblance of rational thought.

'Oh, but there was a battle! You fought, not barehanded mind, but at least you drug down the Sultan in honorable combat, yes? Challenged him to a duel in my name and killed him like a man?'

'Well...'

'No matter there boy! I have a gift for you,' With that she tossed a small sack, stained brown at the bottom, towards him. Vissa, still struggling to recover from her verbal onslaught, jerked back as it flew and was struck in the chest by the bag, which then dropped to the floor.

Stooping to pick it up he promised himself he would stuff his tongue back into his mouth and be silent until she relented. He immediately broke his word, however, when a finger tumbled out of the bag bearing the Sultan's personal signet ring and seal.

'My God! Aliya, how did you come by this?'

She directed a coy smile at him, and gestured for him to close his mouth and gather his thoughts a moment. Then, relishing every word at the start, she related the story of the death of the Sultan of Egypt.

'After watching long enough to see that your battle was decisively won, my father's men and I made for the city. Neither side had taken note of us because we did not wish them to, and Bedouin are accomplished at concealing themselves in the desert above all others. We rode wide around the battlefield and made for the road back to Cairo, intending to reach the city with the news ahead of your men.'

'As fate would have it we were quickly overtaken by two men riding hard, one of them clearly wounded, refugees from the battle. I gave my companions firm orders to allay all suspicion of our loyalty, and so we presented ourselves as sons of the al-Rashaydah tribe, late coming to serve the Sultan. The wounded man, throwing back his rough covering, revealed himself to be none other than my former son-in-law, the current Sultan himself. He had a rather serious cut, and there was blood all down his leg, which made riding difficult for him.'

'The fool imperiously demanded that we dismount and surrender our fresh horses to him and his bodyguard. I immediately did so, leading my horse forward on foot and offering the Sultan a hand down from his animal. As the Sultan concentrated on the painful task of climbing down my men silently cut down his one remaining guard as that man left his horse, dropping the corpse into the dust.'

'When Sultan Nasir looked up from his labors I drew off my hood. I will give him this, there was no fear in his face. Though it pained him he straightened up without looking around and gazed directly into my eyes.'

'I was thankful for that, it made putting the dagger in his throat that much easier. Afterward I took his finger for proof, and to offer the seal to the next governor of Cairo.'

At no point during the tale did Aliya's voice quaver, nor did her eyes give up any sign that it might have been difficult to kill the King whom she'd known, if briefly, as a boy. Vissa shook his head, and gathered her into his arms nonetheless.

After a moment she steps back and regards him carefully, 'What will you do now Vissa? How will Cairo fare?'

'Why you and I will govern the city together Aliya! I will be Duke of Cairo for the Byzantine Empire, and you will be my mistress, my wife if you wish!'

At this the first, brief, cloud of darkness flies across the beautiful face of Aliya, and she looks away just for a moment before speaking, 'Vissa... I am already wed.'

It is Vissa's turn now to be gathered in for a hug, as the diminutive figure of Aliya is forced to support his weight. After a moment he regains control of himself, and pushes her away gently. There are no words, but his eyes ask her the question in his heart.

'When the Sultan expelled me from the Palace he gave orders that my tribe be hunted down and destroyed. My father needed allies, places to hide, free reign to move through the lands of other tribes. Your people have nations and borders to keep them apart, mine have tribes that move around each other as a society. The tribe must come first. It has always been so, will always be so, and so it is with me. When my father found me a husband with the necessary connections, I submitted myself to him willingly, and so the tribe survives!' This last she said with a hushed fervency, as though to convince even herself that it was paramount and true.

'But now...' Vissa began before she cut him off.

'But now you have nearly thirty thousand angry Muslims living in Cairo, and ten thousand more nearby in Alexandria. Your lands are surrounded by your enemies, and you have no friends among the tribes. No, not even my father, and do not so much as ask!'

'Vissa, I wish you well, I hope for your success, but... the tribe comes first. As when I went to the Sultan in the first place, so now I go to my tribal husband, leader of a great clan of the southern deserts. I will not see you again barring some unforseeable accident of fate.'

Anguish overwhelmed Vissarionas. Bonelessly he slid to the floor, crushed by fate for a third time in less than a day, a day that should have been a glorious celebration of victory. Through a haze of black indifference he heard her whisper her final words.

'I love you, boy.'

And she was gone.

Hours later Vissarionas ek Lesvou emerged from the guardhouse alone. The Bedouin were long gone, but his guardsmen were still there. In fact they were overseeing the arrival of a fellow Crusader, Methodios Tagaris, known as The Chivalrous. Soldiers and citizens alike whispered as he rode into the city, none of them taking note of Vissa standing silently by the gatehouse door.

'Look, it's the butcher of Alexandria, come to kill us all!' came a low voice in Arabic.

'There, chaps, goes a true hero! I heard he threw a hundred infidels from the walls himself at Alexandria,' related a Greek soldiers in loud, proud tones.

'The Grandmaster himself invited Methodios to help keep order here,' these words came from one of Vissa's own bodyguards.

It was the last straw for Vissa. Something in him broke, opening a jagged, unwholesome hole inside his churning guts and swallowing up every rational thought. Darkness overwhelmed his mind, and he could think of nothing but Vissarionas the Butcher, an accusation his dreams had hurled at him for decades. His jaw tightened, his eyes hardened, and as soon as Methodios' guards had passed he called to his men in a cold voice,

'Mount up. Bring nothing but your swords. Our work is not yet done, we must secure the Holy sites of Orthodoxy as demanded in our Crusade charter. Methodios will administer Cairo while we see to this task.'

And so Vissarionas ek Lesvou, Crusader, Duke of Cairo in name if not in fact, beloved of Aliya al-Badawiyya, and knight of the Order of St. John rode off into the desert on the day of his greatest victory with no plan but to ride until he couldn't ride any further, until the pain came to an end, until, perhaps, everything came to an end.

:egypt:

GeneralHankerchief

08-30-2008, 04:37

Note: This story takes place after Aleksios surrounds the Offices of the Patriarch (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=2000893&postcount=155) and the subsequent events.

Constantinople, 1129

The scroll made its way to the Patriarch's hands. It was snatched, read, and hastily discarded as its most recent reader rose from his desk and strode out of his office. "The Basileus has called an Emergency Session and has plans to discuss the future of the Patriarch later in the deliberations."

Patriarch Nicholas III, whether of Alexandria or Constantinople, strode from his office with rare purpose and determination. He was approached by several Patriarchal Guards, but waved them off as he continued walking, easily making his way through the labyrinthine corridors of the Offices. The common criticism of the Patriarch was that he never got out and met people. This was about to change, but a pit stop was required first.

Motioning three hooded Patriarchal Guards over to him, they all climbed in the waiting carriage and it set off.

The initial destination was towards the Patriarchal Vaults, a moderate distance away from the Offices. It was safely located away from the church district, so another part of the city would feel the full majesty of Orthodoxy, but not on the other side of town so the journey was not overly arduous.

Unlike the Offices, which towered over the majority of structures in Constantinople, the Vaults were fairly unassuming. The architecture was ornate, yes, but the size of the building was modest. It was, in the simplest of terms, a glorified warehouse, a storage room where anything from trinkets to confiscated material to even corpses of enemies were located.

The carriage arrived. The Patriarch, nodding to the two additional Guards stationed at the front entrance, took a lit torch and proceeded inside, alone. As the door shut behind him, leaving the leader of Orthodoxy in near-total darkness, the five guards could only look at each other and contemplate. Unauthorized access to the Vaults and its contents were strictly forbidden, of course, but over the years the guards snuck peeks at what was inside, marvelling at the displays they could see and dreaming about the ones they could not. Only the utmost of discipline prevented them from actually venturing inside the Vaults and exploring its full assortment of treasures.

Inside, the Patriarch waved his torch and walked, not pausing at all to admire or examine what his guards outside only dreamed about. At least a dozen identical copies of the beautiful armor he had given to Makedonios Ksanthopoulos sat unadmired, as did piles of silver and gold. Rare texts were left undisturbed, as was the centerpiece of the Vaults: a giant, gold statue of the Crucifixion, sculpted in the Classical style.

No, the Crucifixion was just a distraction. The true treasure was tucked away in a the Vaults: a smaller, ivory sculpture of Christ in a holy pose. The Patriarch finally paused from his march, pacing in front of this statue again and again, mumbling to himself. After a while, he stepped directly in front of the sculpture and genuflected.

Instantly, the ground sunk. A perfect circle a few feet in diameter, the Patriarch contained in it, slowly started moving down to a secret, underground level.

For all the lore told about what lay in the Offices or the known part of the Vaults, there were no stories about this level. Inside contained the true treasures of Orthodoxy and Christianity, unbeholden to any man except for the current Patriarch of Constantinople. The knowledge of this place was transferred via letter; the current Patriarch, before his health would inevitably take a turn for the worse, wrote of the Lower Level and put it with his will. Upon his death, the new Patriarch would read the letter, learn the secret, and then promptly burn it.

Because the Lower Level was probably the greatest-kept secret in the world, there was nobody to maintain its upkeep. The air was dank and stale and also unplentiful. The Patriarch coughed twice upon breathing it. His torch was fast eating the oxygen as well. This was another security system designed to maintain the secrecy of the Lower Level: You had to know what you were getting and you had to be quick about it. If you did not follow these two rules, then you were dead.

Keeping this in mind, the Patriarch quickly moved through the unmentionable holiest of relics and records of prophecy, leaving them, as usual, hidden to the world. Of course, his desired item was near the back, for its value was great even among the objects hidden in the Lower Level.

He spotted a gold glint and snatched it, already moving back to the entrance while carefully inserting the object into his robes. There was no time to examine it, not down here. He would do so in the relative light of the main Vaults, make sure he removed the correct artifact, and then make his way back to the carriage. He hoped that nobody would notice the dirt on his shoes.

After riding the genuflection platform back up to the statue of Christ, the Patriarch walked back to the giant golden Crucifixion statue. That plus the torch light was ample enough to illuminate his artifact, which seemed to glow on its own.

It was a beautiful dagger, perfectly balanced, with the point sharpened to perfection. It would cut skin at the slightest brush and had a very good chance of doing the same to harder objects. The Patriarch had little doubt that the point would stay sharp for an unnaturally long time. The hilt was pure gold and had religious marks expertly carved in it: the Crucifixion, of course, but Old Testament scenes as well, the kind where God's Will was fulfilled at the cost of thousands of heathen lives.

Then there was the jewel set into it, the jewel that shined even brighter than the golden hilt. A ruby, otherwise flawless aside from a dark smudge set into its very center. This smudge was actually blood, dried blood, dried blood scraped off the True Cross some time after the Crucifixion. There were no tools that could possibly have inserted it into the ruby without leaving a mark, leaving only one explanation as far as the Patriarch was concerned.

He wasn't certain if anybody knew of the dagger's existence, or even if anybody had heard its legend, but if there were any that did, surely the very blood of Christ residing inside the ruby would leave them all in awe.

The time had come to act, and Patriarch Nicholas III had a perfect instrument in which to assist him. While containing the substance of the hero of the New Testament, the dagger would assist in Old Testament work: righting what was wrong by force.

Once again slipping the dagger into his robes, the Patriarch exited the Vaults and, with his three hooded guards, climbed into the carriage. This time it departed in the direction of the Magnaura.

GeneralHankerchief

08-31-2008, 21:03

Co-op between myself and OverKnight. This story takes place immediately following Part One (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=2000893&postcount=155).

Constantinople, 1128

The Representative, having been unceremoniously booted into the Offices of the Patriarch, started sulking all the way to his master's office, not even pausing to explain the situation to the shocked (and heavily outnumbered) Patriarchal guards. Dirtied and angry from his journey from the Magnaura, several curses that had probably never been said aloud in the heartbeat of the Orthodox faith were muttered. Each time this happened a look of horror appeared on a passing clergyman's face, followed by scolding. The Representative ignored it all, even swearing loudly when he realized that he had made a wrong turn and needed to double back.

Finally, with seven of the Basileus's ten minutes having passed, the Representative opened Patriarch Nicholas III's door without knocking. The two men, Patriarch and Representative, stared at each other for a moment, and then the Patriarch made ready to speak.

"You're dusty."

"The Basileus wants a word," the Representative said abruptly. "Oh, him and about two hundred soldiers. I just got dragged from the Magnaura, bound to an ass, and dropped to the ground because he felt that now was the proper time. Right when the Caesar was being mauled in there too, of course. But he gives you his regards, so it's all okay. And by the way, I have about two minutes to get back down through that maze of yours and tell him that you can see him, or otherwise he and all of the guards are going to barge in here and probably wreck everything."

"Are you finished?"

"Yes, Your Eminence."

"Good," the Patriarch said. "Now, what is it you wish to do?"

"Grant the Basileus entry within his time limit without further humiliation to myself while making it difficult for him to reach this office at the same time."

"Then do it."

"Right," said the Representative. "Parchment, pen, and seal, please." After the Patriarch handed him all three items, the Representative quickly jotted down the words "Enter, Basileus", embossed it with the Patriarchal seal, and made for the window, where he opened it, dropped the parchment into the wind, and closed it again.

"That should buy us some time to think," the Representative said. "Good luck to the Basileus getting up here, especially with the guards stationed at the main entrance not knowing the location of Your Eminence's office."

"It is that reason why it would probably be in your best interest not to be present when the Basileus finally does reach here," the Patriarch said. "I suggest you hide yourself in your office or someone else's until this meeting is concluded." The Representative bowed and, still wiping the dust off his clothes, exited.

Ten minutes later, the Basileus entered the room, flanked by Harald. Aleksios's gaze took in his surroundings and the Patriarch. With a curt nod he dismissed the Varangian, who closed the door on his way out.

"Good day, your Eminence, I felt it was time we stopped dueling through proxies and spoke face to face. Though you have tried to make it difficult."

The Patriarch looked up at the Basileus for a long while, stroking his beard. "Difficult is a relative term," he finally said, "especially when you have never attempted it before now. After all, I, as you know, have always been here, sitting in this office, watching over my flock. Despite the various efforts to get me out in public, coronating the unimportant or meeting the unenlightened... or even to get me moved to an entirely different continent... here I have remained, awaiting your call, Basileus. You have just never made it until now. Although I do admit, dragging my poor Representative out of the Magnaura and using two hundred of your finest soldiers to bang on my humble doors does make for an impressive first call indeed. Clearly, you have something on your mind, and that something is obviously not my demise, considering the way in which you have announced your presence here. Speak, then. Speak, my son."

Aleksios glanced around the room, "Humble door? Indeed. Let me cut to the quick, you and I have have opposed each other for years. Your represenative in the Senate and your lackeys in the street speak out against me and my family. I have investigated you; the origins of the Crusade, the plan behind your slanders and plots within plots. I nearly lost my man Apionnas in Egypt to your agents, and there's been a knifing in the Magnaura."

The Basileus threw down a sheath of papers onto the Patriarch's desk.

"And yet, while I know much more than I did, I don't have it all. I don't have enough solid evidence to burn you safely without fear of reprisal. I could remove you as a threat, but by doing so I would trigger even more instability in the Empire."

The Basileus leaned forward on the desk staring at the Patriarch.

"Let these facts not comfort you however. The men in shadows you've been relying on aren't as reliable as you envisioned. Your man Symeon has been watched and Apionnas has survived. Both he and Aleksander have passed on information to me. The Egyptians initiated their move against the Christian due to an outside influence and you may use a fake assasination attempt, coupled with the fervor of the Crusade, to try to reshape the Empire into a Theocracy. If you move against me or my son, this information will come to light. And the legacy of the Crusade and your legacy as the man who called it will be sullied."

Aleksios drummed his fingers on the desk.

"Now, you could excommunicate me, threaten not to coronate my son when he assumes the Throne and probably set a good portion of the Senators against me. However, I will soon have my own Patriarch of Constantinople, one who's view of recent changes in Church hierarchy will be more orthodox. You would be excommunicated in turn, and as the Empire would be split, so would the Church.

"So, we can destroy each other, however neither of us would likely survive to enjoy it and the Empire would be irreparably damaged. It wouldn't matter what vision you or I have for it, they would both be impossible to achieve then."

"And yet, I am the only one in this office who is not blameless," the Patriarch mused. "'The Patriarch' this, 'the Patriarch' that. Naturally, you know of my actions so there is no point in denying them, but each one of them was done for a reason, and yes, the reason does extend beyond the simple goal of creating a theocracy where my evil Orthodox priests maintain an iron grip on the helpless Byzantine citizens for all time. How simplistically black-and-white of you."

The Patriarch allowed himself a minor chuckle, but upon glancing up and seeing the Basileus's facial expression, returned to his usual seriousness.

"As the leader of the Orthodox faith, no matter where my official title is located, it is naturally in my best interests to serve Orthodoxy's best interests. These past years, there have been many threats to Orthodoxy's best interests, so I acted." In contrast to the Basileus's stack of papers currently residing on the Patriarch's normally tidy desk, Nicholas produced a single scroll. It appeared to be a list.

"First of all, Apionnas. Yes, my men intercepted him. In Egypt. Cairo. The target of the Crusade. The man is a former Mohammedan, Basileus. He is still a Saracen, and he was talking to Egyptian soldiers while the Crusade was bearing down upon the city. My agents were frightened beyond belief that he had turned traitor and was informing the enemy of the Crusaders' plans. Now, you tell me that Apionnas was your man going down to Egypt on your orders, but consider the fact that my agents knew nothing about this, and I believe they weren't alone in this lack of knowledge, either. They definitely acted accordingly.

"Secondly, the Caesar. A bumpy transition of power seems to be your greatest fear, judging by your actions and that letter of yours originally proposing the Edict to ship me off to Alexandria. Ioannis, however, is the most controversial man in the Empire. He willingly pursues civil war and you know that as soon as he inherits the Throne he will stop at nothing to destroy the Order of St. John and gain absolute power for himself. Considering that the Order is the most pious of the Houses and the fact that Ioannis was against the Crusade even before there were whispers that I had somehow influenced the Caliph's move against the Gnostics and Coptics, I am once again acting in Orthodoxy's best interests by planning to block his succession. You, as Vice-Regent and undisputed ruler of all things secular in Byzantium, should be concerned as well, for if the Caesar has his way, there will be extreme turmoil, whether I am involved or not - but that's a conversation for another day. Before you condemn me for opposing the Caesar and seeing what madness it would bring, think about what universal acceptance of his unjust rule would bring, Basileus. Think on that.

"Thirdly, and I will not dwell on this point long. You speak of appointing a new Patriarch of Constantinople who will have a more 'orthodox' view of Church hierarchy. I find it interesting that you feel it is so, after you made a blatant move to increase your religious power and upset the traditional balance that has been observed."

The Patriarch made a long pause, repeatedly clearing out his throat.

"So yes, there would be a split, probably even greater than the one you described, for I would have credible defenses even to your unproven accusations. Naturally, I would be against a war the same as you, for all that it accomplishes in the end is the death of Orthodox citizens and a questioning of the faith. Is the eternal struggle, fruitless for both of us old men, what we are destined to do then?"

The Basileus leaned back, his eyes gone narrow and looking down on the Patriarch. He smiled then, coldly, "Of course, we could choose another path. . ."

"Ah, the crux of the reason for your visit," the Patriarch said. "This I am interested to hear."

The Basileus spoke quietly, "Despite our posturing, neither of us will get exactly what we want. Do you think I am blind to my son's failings? I had hoped to groom him to be a wise ruler while making sure there was an Empire for him to inherit. Both, it seems, are in doubt.

"You conspire with Symeon against me, and I conspire with Aleksander against you. Do you see the common thread? It is the Organization, whatever factions there are in it, they are playing us against each other. If we continue on this path, we will destroy each other, and the only ones who will benefit will be them. Men in shadows only have power, if poweful men, such as you and I, give it to them.

"As you said, you and I are old, and while you are a threat to me, if we allow the Organiziation to continue in their conspiracies, they will be a greater threat to both the institutions we represent long after we are dust. Do you think you will be rid of Symeon and his men once you no longer have use of him, or I of Aleksander? The latter takes a familiar tone in the Senate, and I'm sure his counterpart does the same with you. Aleksander's report mentions Symeon employing spies and sabotuers in the Houses and army. To get that information Aleksander probably has his own agents in place in this very Palace. In aiding us against each other, the Organization worms itself into Church and State. If left unstopped, they will eventually subvert both. The damage they will eventually do to each, far eclipses what we could do to each other."

Aleksios moved his sheath of papers and the Patriarch's own scroll together on the desk.

"What I propose is this: We unite against them. You have information on them, as do I. You know some of their agents, and I know most of the rest. I will call an Emergency Session, and we will jointly propose an Edict calling for the eradication of the Organization, enforcing your previous Proclamation for real. With what we know we can wipe them out. We'll both be heroes, and our past. . .disagreements. . .were just a public ruse to draw the Organization out."

The Patriarch chuckled once again, this time longer due to his knowledge of what the Basileus's visit was for.

"A bit melodramatic with the symbolism by joining the papers together, Aleksios?" He allowed himself one final chuckle, and then continued. "But yes, you have made it perfectly clear that the Organization, no matter how fracticious, is playing both sides in this conflict. Unfortunately for us all, even if they should triumph, they would still not bring stability to the Empire and Orthodoxy because they would still continue fighting with each other. I would half prefer a secret Order that's organized and disciplined to play both sides and then assert its power in a decisive battle, for at least then the fighting would be over, even though there would be a result that few desired. With this case, we are denied of even that.

The Patriarch now breathed a huge sigh, as if his next words were to cost him a great amount of effort.

"Very well," he said slowly, "I concur with your opinion that the continuation of this conflict would wreck too much, and that we all - both us personally, and the people we represent - have far too much to lose. You have desired stability, I, increased faith. You stand to lose stability in the fact that the Organization's perpetual in-fighting will continue to escalate until it swallows the Empire whole. I stand to lose Faith because I now see that the Organization is not inspirational, only chaotic. Therefore, I agree with your plan."

Aleksios waited, knowing there would be a caveat.

"However," the Patriarch said, "An Emergency session to kill the Organization will not be that simple. I am not content to simply act as your diplomatic conquest and then be shipped off to Alexandria. I must have your assurances that you will revert me back to Constantinople - I dislike the use of my modified Patriarchal seal and wish to return back to the old one.

"Now," he said, "I assume that this concession will come with a price."

Aleksios nodded, "I will fulfill the Edict I proposed at the last Session by appointing you, after your brief stint succoring Alexandria, as your own replacement as Patriarch of Constantinople. In return you will cease undermining myself and my son publicly and when the time comes you will crown him. I stop meddling in your affairs, and you in mine. Status quo ante bellum."

"Ah yes," the Patriarch said, 'status quo ante bellum', as my Papal friends would say. Although technically, the war hasn't started yet, so it would be a status quo ante ante bellum. But I digress. I do see serious problems with the Caesar ahead, and I have every right to block his ascendence. He has demonstrated time and time again that he is unfit to rule."

"We shall see, he deserves a chance at least. An intercepted letter, no matter how inflammatory, is not a declaration of war. However, he requires a harsh lesson in restraint and humility. During the same Emergency Session, I will propose to remove the right of my son to automatically assume the office of Megas Logothetes during his reign. If he wishes to rule, he will have to do so through cooperation and. . ."

Aleksios grimaced, ". . .compromise."

A smile creeped over the Patriarch's face. "I quiver to see what will happen with the Caesar after both of us are enjoying ourselves in the next life, but for now, a case of 'Father knows best' seems appropriate. I do hope Ioannis will take it the right way."

The Patriarch paused, and, for the first time during the meeting, there was a lull in the discussion.

"I believe we are done here then, yes?"

Aleksios replied, "Almost, Aleksander is already in my grasp, and I can have men ready to arrest the other agents I know of as soon as we give word, but Symeon. . ."

"I thought you'd never ask," said the Patriarch, still grinning. "I can personally deliver you and the rest of the Magnaura Symeon himself."

Aleksios nodded, "Good, I'm glad we could reach an agreement. . .your Eminence."

"The feeling is mutual... your Majesty."

Both men stared at each other, and laughed in only the way that two old men who knew all the tricks could.

flyd

09-01-2008, 05:21

Constantinople, 1129
One day before the return of Ioannis Komnenos to the Magnaura.

Having slept through most of the Emergency Senate Session, Isaakios Komenos awoke once the moderated bickering had ascended to shouting. He yawned loudly.

"Food," he thought.

He looked around, saw nothing of interest, and left. He walked briskly out of the Magnaura. Each step brought him closer to food. However, his thoughts about lamb were interrupted by a voice coming from behind.

"Hail, son of the Great Basileus!" said the voice.

"Huh?" Isaakios said, stopped, turned around, said "Oh," then took another step and stopped again. "Hail, uh..." he continued and paused. Who was that? It was a Senator. The new guy. What was his name? Nikolaos something... Nikolaos Lambios? No, that probably wasn't it. Still, he needed to continue his previous statement. "... good Senator."

The Senator, who shall for the moment be known as Nikolaos Lambios, ran up to Isaakios, and said, "Mind if we take a stroll down to a nearby Tavern? I'd like to talk about things with a son of the Basileus."

Aha! This man's sudden coming into existence was not fundamentally anti-food after all. That was good. "Yeah, alright, I'm starving," Isaakios said.

They quickly made their way through the crowded streets to a nearby tavern. You could describe this tavern using ornate and descriptive prose, but as far as Isaakios was concerned: food. It was here. There was strong evidence to suggest its existence. His thoughts drifted again to lamb as Nikolaos found them a table and called over a barmaid, at which time the thoughts of lamb had permanently vanished.

"Woman," he thought.

"Drinks for two!" said Nikolaos, "What have ye, Isaakios?"

"I'm not sure," he said and turned to the woman, "perhaps, a recommendation?"

"I like the Ionian wine myself," she said.

"Ionian, eh? Yes, very interesting. I've not had it before, I mostly drink Crimean."

"Crimean?" she asked.

"From Crimea. It's pretty rare, but we have quite a lot of it," he said, and added "you know, I'm the son of the Emperor" as an aside.

"Uh huh," she said.

He parted his cloak a little, just enough to show the tunic embroidered with purple patterns.

"Oh my god," she said, "sorry, I.."

"No, no, no problem," he reassured her, "we'll take that Ionian. I'm sure it's very good. Bring us some food too. Surprise us."

She left and as they waited, Nikolaos struck up a conversation again. "So lad, what you think of the talk in the senate, eh?"

"I've slept through most of it, to be honest. Seems like most everything is being blown out of proportion. Much talk over little action. And everyone could stand to relax a little."

"Aye, I agree, I slept through most of it too! What would you see then? What would you have be done or said?"

"I--" Isaakios started and was interrupted by the arrival of the barmaid with the order. "Thank you," he said to her with a smile, "thank you so much. I am eternally thankful. Well, maybe not that much. I mean, thank you in a sort of a moderate amount. You know, I mean, I appreciate it, but it wasn't that big of a deal. I don't want to overstate it, and mislead you. I would never do that. So yeah, thanks, in a sort of an average, normal sense."

She laughed and said, "you're welcome in a sort of an average, normal sense."

As she left, Isaakios turned to Nikoalos. "She laughed, and that wasn't even funny." He raised his eyebrow and grinned.

Then he turned to look at her again, and in an extremely distracted way he said, "Yeah, I just want to see the Empire be stable and prosper. Carry on with what father started, and what have you. I don't know how much I'll be able to do, but we'll see. There is certainly tension between some of the factions, but I think peace and cooperation will prevail. And besides..."

His speech sort of trailed off at that point, as he continued to follow the woman in the distance. There was some noise coming from the direction which was previously known to be occupied by Nikolaos, and which perhaps still was. Something about Caesars, Grandmasters, and Emperors. Isaakios got up, said something, hoping it was something that made sense as an answer, and walked to the woman.

She smiled when he got to her, and he smiled back. "I think you will soon be done with your work for today," he said.

"Sorry," she responded, "not until sundown."

"Oh, but," he said as he put his hand on her shoulder, "I think the Imperial government disagrees. Let's go talk to your boss."

They went to a shortish, balding man in the back of the tavern, who screamed, "Hey! You can't be in here!"

"Hi," Isaakios said and showed off his purple tunic again, "I'm Isaakios Komenos."

"Oh! Sorry, sir. We are very, very honored to have you in our establishment. I hope--"

"Yes, it's great. Listen, this lady is done for the day, is she not?"

"Uh, I guess, I suppose that's not a problem. If--"

"Excellent. Love the place by the way. I'll tell all my friends."

With that they left. As they walked down the street, she asked, "Why did you do that?"

"Well, I had to," he said and put his arm around her waist, "after getting such a good wine recommendation. I still prefer the Crimean, though."

"Is it that good?"

"Well, no. I won't lie to you. It's not really that great. It's mainly that it's rare. You know, it's pretty cold up there. But don't tell anyone."

"Your secret is safe with me," she said and giggled, "I'm sure the rarity makes it taste better."

"You can try it if you'd like," he said coolly, "I have a small cask of it in my room."

Nikolaos by YLC

Privateerkev

09-02-2008, 14:44

This story is a co-op between Ituralde and myself. It is set after "lettergate" and before the emergency session.

Constantinople: 1129

Makedonios sat in a spare chamber in the Magnaura. The building was large so there were many alcoves and spare rooms. He had received a message to meet here and he had arrived on time. He sat at a table and waited for the other person to show up.

Pavlos enters the chamber and bows slightly. "Megas Ksanthopoulos."
After this small introduction he advances towards the table and takes a seat. His face seems to be set in an especially grim expression today.

Makedonios nods. He has never really spoken to the man before. Pavlos was considered to be something of a recluse. Not really seen in the Senate. But able to achieve power in a House not known for being generous. The Megas knew he had to tread carefully. He returned the greeting, "Antypatos."

They sat in silence for a moment. Neither seemed to know where to start. Finally, Makedonios asked, "You wanted to see me?"

Pavlos begins to speak slowly as though he weighs every word. "Are you a loyal man?" Before Makedonios can answer he continues. "Well I am. I swore two oaths. One to protect the Basileus and serve the Empire. The other to serve my lord Caesar Ioannis Komnenos. I never thought they would one day stand in conflict to each other." Pavlos is quiet again and chews his cheek absently.

"I am no great talker so I'll make this blunt. You wanted my help, I'm here to give it to you."

Makedonios knew he had a habit to say three words when one would do. So he sat and pondered how to be short and to the point. "I'm loyal to the Empire and to my people. So far, those two are not in conflict. I'm sorry to see your two are."

He took a drink of water. He used the time to think of what to say next. "Why? I can think of plenty of reasons but I would like to hear it from you."

Pavlos eyes flash hotly for an instant. "Why? Civil War of course! Isn't that bloody obvious?"

The Megas kept his cool. "Obvious? Oh I had hoped it would be obvious. It should be obvious. But it is clear to me that it is on at least one person's mind right now. A person you swore to. You and those in your House have done quite well at our expense. So, I assumed you guys would follow him anywhere. So yes. I want to know why. I want to know why you wish to avoid civil war. It is important to me."

"I have only ever asked my lord for one thing and that was for an army to conquer Pontus. After that I followed his orders loyally. I don't care what you assumed. If I swear an Oath I'll keep it! Civil War will not serve the Empire. Especially not in this dimension and with those consequences."

Pavlos forces himself visibly to calmness. He looks the Megas up and down: "You remember Manzikert, you're bloody old enough to have been there. Well I was there and I can tell you that it wasn't the Turks that got us that day. It was us and our joy for Intrigues. Our constant struggle for more power. I will not let this happen again!"

"That should be enough explanation for the Basileus himself. Do you accept my help or not?"

Makedonios nodded. "I was at Manzikert. It was where I got this." He pointed at his scar. "I apologize but you have to see where I am coming from. I do not know you. All I know, is that you have opposed me in the Magnaura and in votes on every single issue since the Magnaura reopened. So, I wanted to know who it was I am dealing with."

He paused to take another sip of water and to cough a little into a tissue. "My apologies, my illness never really went away." He took one more sip to clear his throat.

"The last thing I want, is a civil war. The second to last thing that I want is to waste the rest of my term preparing for a civil war that I pray will never come. So yes, I would like your help."

Pavlos nods slowly then waits for Makedonios to continue. "Well what did you have in mind?"

Makedonios held up a hand. "Three things. One, he can not be harmed." He extended a finger. "Two, the position itself can not be altered." Another finger. "And three, he quite simply can not ever be allowed to be Megas again." The third finger went up. Makedonios looked at Pavlos intently as he asked, "How does that sound to you?"

Pavlos once again chews his cheek in thought and glances upwards. "How do you intend to achieve these things?"

Makedonios leans back. "It's short and simple which is the way I imagine you like plans. When the Caesar ascends the throne, and takes his automatic Megas term, we impeach him. As long as one of us can call a session it should work. With your help, I doubt we'll have any trouble finding the votes."

ULC

09-03-2008, 09:33

1129, Sofia, Midwinter

Nikolaos Aristenos was a bear of a man, easily standing a head taller then anyone else on the streets, and his girth was that of two men. Needless to say, Nikolaos hard a hard time fitting into most buildings, and had a hard time not being spotted. Most people were easily intimidated by his bulk, and it was working well for him today.

"I am sorry, but I do not have the payments you requested, please, understand."
Nikolaos shook his head at the Innkeeper. "I am sorry, but the City of Kiev has forwarded the bill through me only, so it is not me you must pay, but them. I would be more then happy to let you get the money, but I cannot so sadly, because I'd like to keep my head. Thus, I am will have to put in yet more paperwork, and we can work on your debt getting paid off. I am terribly sorry."

Nikolaos sighed. He really liked this Inn, it was well kept, had great food, kept excellent company, and that warm hearth made it very comfortable compared to the snowstorm outside. Nikolaos watched the Innkeeper begin to protest, but Nikolaos eyed him as he pulled out the paperwork. Rolling it out on the lovely wooden counter, Nikolaos spoke to the Innkeeper. "Sign here, and we can begin this terrible, necessary, yet hopefully with little pain, process. If we are lucky, we might save much of the Inn." The man was hesitant, yet a quick look at Nikolaos, and he hurriedly signed his name.

A few minutes latter, and Nikolaos walked out of the Inn with the signed papers in hand, pulling his winter cloak over him a little more tightly. The poor Innkeeper had lost almost everything, but Nikolaos had shelled in a few coin to make sure the man would not be out in the cold. Nikolaos looked over the contract again, and chuckled. At least he could keep the man at the head of his Inn, even if he would now answer to Nikolaos.

Turning to make his way to a blacksmith shop that was late on payments, Nikolaos knocked over a woman in a heavy overcoat, sending her flying into the snow. Nikolaos was used to this and quickly offered his hand to the poor woman. "I'm sorry m'lady, please forgive my-" He is immediately entranced by her eyes, riveted in thought and in motion. Even with the bitterly cold wind, Nikolaos is as warm as if he was dancing in a fireplace.

"Easily forgiven. I should have been looking where I was going, not a bit of it was your fault." Lady Veronica pushed herself up, ignoring Nikolaos's hand and dusting herself off. She looked back up at Nikolaos eyeing him before speaking. "Aren't you the senator from Kiev? What are you doing in Sofia?" Nikolaos smiles. "Oh, just some small business matters. And you?" Lady Veronica considers. "I came to visit someone close to my late husband, and I was on my way home until you bowled me over."

Nikolaos chuckles. "And I am deeply sorry for that. Do you wish me to escort you to-" Veronica waved her hand. "No, I am fully capable of finding my own way. Thank you for the offer though." Veronica turns and makes her way down the street, as Nikolaos watches her go. After she rounds the corner, Nikolaos shakes himself from his stupor and growing coat of snow. He had a blacksmith to see.

Privateerkev

09-04-2008, 07:23

This story is a co-op between OK and myself.

Constantinople 1129:

His cane clacked on the tile as he walked through the massive hallway. Makedonios had been down this way before many years ago. But that was for a very different reason. He wasn't nearly as nervous this time. For one, things were different now. For another, this conversation would probably go much better than the last. Time was short and things had to be said.

A guard flanked either side of the door unmoving like statues. An aide scurried up to him and checked his name against a list. Makedonios guessed that he was probably the only name on that list all day. But still the aide had to scan down the mostly blank page in order to look official. Bureaucracy...

The doors opened and the Megas walked in with his cane hitting at alternate beats. He was older now. His long blond hair was streaked with gray. While he needed a cane, his movements were steady. His demeanor had changed since the last time he had been in this room as well. No longer desperately pleading for a woman's hand in marriage, Makedonios was confident without being cocky.

The Basileus was speaking with a metal worker, both men in front of Aleksios's desk. Resting on the desk itself were two large blocks of plaster, with a mallet between them. Aleksios looked up as Makedonios approached and spoke to the metal worker, "I will view them myself, and then you can do the detail work. Wait outside, I do not wish to keep the Megas Logothetes waiting."

The two men were soon alone. Picking up the mallet, Aleksios casually spun it in his hands as he greeted Makedonios, "Welcome Megas, my apologies for the delay, but I have just received an interesting gift from my men."

The Basileus made his way behind the desk to sit, "How can I help you?"

First, the Megas bowed properly. Then, when it was clear he had an invitation to sit, he sat down gently and rested his cane against the chair. Mak's curiosity got the better of him and he eyed the thing on the Emperor's desk. "Your majesty, I'm curious. What is that on your desk?"

Aleksios replied, "Business before pleasure, Megas, what do you wish of me?"

Makedonios replied with a small smile. "No business Your Highness. I wanted to take this opportunity to say some things that needed to be said. But it can wait. I'm curious. Is the plaster part of the sculpture or was it what the mallet came from?" His eyes twinkled with curiosity.

The Basileus's lips twitched with a small smile, "Very well, I will indulge your curiousity. The blocks are plaster molds. Best shield your eyes."

Standing, he brought the mallet down on one block and then the other, sending chunks of plaster and dust flying. Two bronze heads were now visible underneath: One's face, what was left of it, was a rictus of pain, the other looked almost surprised.

"May I present to you Sultan Burak and Crown Prince Mehmed," said the Basileus, "These are their death masks, casted from their severed heads after they fell in battle. My men have honored me with a memento from Adrianople."

The Basileus layed down the mallet and sat again, wiping dust from his hands.

"So, what brings you here?"

The Megas looked at the grotesque display for a moment. While not exactly what he had in mind for a memento, it was clear the Emperor was pleased with it. I guess we're just different men, he thought. He kept his face impassive at the morbidness. Finally, Makedonios shrugged and looked up at the Emperor.

"I wanted to thank you. I've never really done that before. We've had our differences. And I've certainly asked for a lot. So... before it is too late, I want to thank you Your Highness. For a lot of things." Knowing he had the bad habit of monologuing, Mak left it at that and waited for the Emperor to reply.

Aleksios raised an eyebrow, "Isn't this a day of wonders?"

He resumed, more seriously, "I myself could not have foreseen the events of the past few years. However, I acted as I did to prevent the loss of what we have regained. After Manzikert, the internal strife within the Empire did more damage than the battle itself. I will not have anyone. . .anyone. . .bring about those dark days again."

The Grandmaster nodded and pointed at his scar. "Like a good number of the Senators my age, I was there. We learned the enemy within is worse than the enemy without." Pausing for a second to erase the memories that still gave him nightmares, he changed the subject back.

"You could have left us on Nicosia all those years ago but you didn't. You could have voted for Savvas again but you didn't. And you could have let the Caesar go through with his plans for me... but you didn't. You've ended up being the closest thing to a patron we in the Order have had. Ironic given our earlier differences."

Aleksios nodded, "Yes, irony tends to accumulate the longer one lives. I did what I thought was best for the Empire, and though opinion on what exactly that is varies, it worked out more often than not."

The Basileus sighed, "Though it is all still balanced on a knife's edge. One push and the Empire could still fall apart."

It was Makedonios's turn to nod. "Yes it could. I've tried to do what I can. I gave your son an 'out'. I've tried to administer my duties fairly. Sometimes I wonder if we will ever be 'stable.' There seem to be so many competing visions that all swear they are the right path."

He takes a quick pause while he thinks. "Besides thanking you, the other reason I wanted to see you is to ask if there is anything you want. I guess it could be related to what we were just talking about. I'm sure you've had plenty of us, myself included, begging you for one thing or another. Well, I now have a little more than half a term left and I have a small measure of power. So... what do you want Your Highness? I always found it funny that you didn't really ask me for anything when you switched your vote. So, here's your chance after the fact."

The Basileus again raised an eyebrow, "'Small measure of power'? The position isn't quite what you thought, is it Megas Logothetes? You can't really understand that until you've done the job."

He leaned back, thinking, "I am content. I have addressed most of the pressing matters at hand. However. . .the Walls of Theodosius need to be renovated and enlarged, but that would be quite expensive."

The Megas allowed himself a small laugh. "Oh I'm not complaining. I'm the one that asked for this and I'll do it the best I can for 15 years. The hard part was realizing that no matter what you do, you'll never make people happy. They will always assume that their part of the Empire is severely neglected. At least you didn't have to deal with 'private armies' during your term..."

With another chuckle, he composed himself before addressing the next item. "As for the walls, I've looked into it. Unfortunately, now that the Crusade is no longer self-funding, the Empire only takes in between seven and nine thousand florins a year. Those walls cost twelve. I have 6 'turns' left. I might be able to sock away two grand a year and start them before I leave but I can't promise anything."

Aleksios shrugged, "That is why I did not prioritize them. As for making Senators happy, I gave up on that a long time ago. One man's happiness is usually another's misery. The best that can be hoped for is that they are content, or at least not rebellious."

The Basileus stood and walked over to Makedonios.

"In lieu of the Walls, there is one thing I will ask of you."

Believing it would be rude to stay seated while the Emperor stood, Makedonios got up with the aid of his cane. He faced the Emperor and stood straight. He said nothing and waited for the older man to speak.

Aleksios looked about, despite the room being empty, and then whispered something quietly to Makedonios.

Normally stoic, the Grandmaster's eyes go wide. Wondering if the Emperor was joking, Mak just stares at him for a moment. When he notices that the Basileus is quite serious, he lets out a whistle. "Remind me to never get on your bad side Your Highness. I'm not sure how I can help, but if I can, I will."

Aleksios turned and picked up the bust of Crown Prince Mehmed, examining it for a moment, before responding.

"Good, you have my thanks Megas. Was there anything else you wanted?"

He answered quickly, "No Your Highness I know we're both busy so I will get going." With sincere respect in his eyes, Makedonios had one last thing to say. "I just wanted to tell you that years ago, after you denied me your daughter's hand, I was furious with you. I even took a small amount of selfish pleasure whenever you had a hard time politically. But, time passes, things happen, and feelings fade. I just want you to know now that I can't imagine an Empire without you. And I truly believe we will be the worse off for your passing. It has been an honor to serve you Your Highness."

Aleksios set the bust down and turned to face Makedonios again, "Thank you, but there will be an Empire without me. Above all else, faction, creed or House, good men like you must make sure of it."

He extended a hand, "Good fortune, Megas Logothetes."

Makedonios grasped the older man's hand. "Go with God Your Highness."

The Megas gave his Emperor a respectful nod, turned, and left the room.

Ramses II CP

09-04-2008, 15:51

Thebes, 1129

There had been no blood spilled in the Senate, and that was the remarkable part. A war had been declared, a war that Vissarionas ek Lesvou had, in his heart, been truly delighted to see begin at last... but the Caesar had recanted and sworn peace. He would now become a weak Emperor, with his power openly challenged and reduced by the Senate. Likely he would be all the more vicious for it when he came to power, but that was for the future.

For now, Vissa faced a very simple problem, he was cut off from the Empire. Stranded in the south by the abrupt rebellion of 'his' city, Cairo, of which he had not yet informed his soldiers. No supply lines, not even any reliable lines of communication, and he with only his bodyguards. Their tour of the Orthodox holy sites was long complete, but Vissa had not yet found what he was actually seeking in the desert. There was no peace of mind for him, not even in his sleep, and though he had, perforce, attended the emergency Senate session to see the Caesar humiliated even that had not improved his grip on himself. Something inside Vissa had just spun out of control and nothing he could do seemed to make it stop spinning. Thinking itself was difficult, and those befuddled thoughts sometimes simply seemed to erupt into words without any reason to them. His guardsmen were distraught, and Rafi was beside himself, but their efforts never actually penetrated the mental haze surrounding Vissa.

And now they were 'laying siege' to Thebes, all twenty one of them. In essence this meant camping east of the castle, where there was a well, and placing scouts along the north and south roads so that supply trains could be headed off. There was no way Vissa's men could forcibly enter the castle if the men inside chose to hold out and hope for reinforcements, but given the arrogance the Egyptian armies had shown so far it seemed quite likely that there would be a sally, and soon.

The northern scout reported a supply mission on the road. Without needing orders the men assembled and walked their horses north to block the road, but this time Vissa positioned them to intercept the supplies in clear view of the castle walls. Let the hungry men within see their food taken, and perhaps, just perhaps...

A horn sounded within Thebes, and the gates were drawn open. The garrison, which Vissa had been unable to judge from without, now revealed itself to be two companies of hardy javelin men and a solid company of Nubian spearmen. Those javelins were the real danger, they could drag a man down off his horse even if they didn't penetrate his armor. Vissa's guardsmen destroyed and fouled whatever could not be carried off of the supplies and sent the Bedouin dressed cart driver running towards the castle with his camels while the Egyptian companies assembled. Then, as soon as they sent the driver inside and began to march forward, Vissa rode away.

He had Rafi hurling stones at their pursuers with his sling, and he deliberately slit one of the bags of grain to slowly spill it's contents across the desert as they rode off with the enemy infantry in pursuit. The captain of the Thebes garrison was visibly in a fury, screaming at his men and whipping them up to chase the Greeks. Vissa's men rode just ahead of the Egyptians all the way to an outlying farm where the fields had recently been heavily irrigated and were thick with clinging, sandy mud. Placing the field in the direct line of march between the enemy foot and his men, Vissa sat back and waited. The two companies of javelineers marched around the field, but the Nubian spearmen and the garrison captain waded out into it.

At which point Vissa and his men galloped back to the castle at Thebes and in through the open gates. The cart driver, in truth Vissa's guardsmen Stephen, removed his Bedouin head wrappings and pulled himself up onto his mount behind Rafi before locking the gate behind him. Thebes was taken without even a battle. At the castle square Vissa dismounted to discuss matters with some irate representatives of the local government in rough Arabic.

The local spoke first, obviously angry, 'Captain Rashid will be back you know! He'll lay a true siege and recapture Thebes, slaughtering all your men!'

Vissa erupts in a hollow, unpleasant laugh, 'No, I dare say Rashid will not be back. His men are just discovering that the well out there is fouled and there are no supplies left in our camp to sustain his three hundred men. Indeed, if Rashid is very lucky he may still be alive at this moment, but I would not care to bet on the matter, and after they deal with him his men will return to their homes and regular meals just as quickly as possible. No one is coming to save you.'

The local man was obviously taken aback, but he looked around and drew courage from the swelling number of citizens in the square before replying, 'There's a lot of us here, Greek. What makes you think we'll live under you? We'll no more welcome you than Cairo did.'

Rafi, whose Arabic is better than Vissa's, looks anxious at these words, and watches Vissarionas carefully. A grim look falls over Vissa, but his speech is still emotionless, 'There will be no riots here. Do you hear me? No riots! Rioters will be put to the sword.'

The local sneers. There are now close to three hundred men, with a smattering of women as well, in the square and more can be seen coming down nearby streets. He retorts, 'What swords? There are twenty of us for every sword you carry. I'm the governor you know, I'll call up the militia and we'll put your men out ourselves you fool!'

At that, the governor of Thebes turns his back on Vissa and opens his mouth to shout at the crowd,

'Give these Christians their due! As the Caliph commanded at Cairo, make it so here and leave none alive!'

In a flash Vissa has ridden up behind him and split open his head. His guardsmen are momentarily shocked to see their general kill an unarmed man, but the mood of the crowd immediately turns ugly as stones and rotten produce begin to plink off Vissa's armor. Rafi looks on in horror, trying to shout to Vissa above the noise, but only one clear, empty voice can be heard.

'Clear the square men! Give them the fear of God and Byzantium! No riots in Thebes!'

It is Vissa. He swings his sword wildly through the crowd as they press close, and blood flies in the air. Instantly his guardsmen in their heavy armor press forward and an unimaginable slaughter begins. At first the people seem to be holding their own, but this is an illusion of sheer numbers. They carry no weapons to injure the guardsmen, and are not trained to tear men down from horses which kick, scream, and bite in their own right. It takes less than a minute to clear the space around Vissa, and costs the lives of dozens of broken civilians. There is a momentary pause for breath, into which Vissa says,

'This is the battle for Thebes men. Go out and win it.'

Their commander's black mental haze takes hold of the well trained men, and even as the crowd at last shrinks back of it's own accord, realizing their mistake, the Byzantine guardsmen advance. The crowd continues to struggle for a moment, but when one of the war horses bodily hurls a screaming woman through the air with it's mouth the mob breaks and tries to flee, a thousand or more terrified Egyptians scattering and trampling one another in the streets.

Rafi, having leapt from Stephen's saddle during the discussion, rushes up and clings to Vissa's sword arm as his master attempts to join the fray,

'Stop them Vissa! You cannot do this! Remember Antioch!'

There is a glimpse, the briefest glimpse, of shock and pain on Vissa's face before the blank void descends over his visage again, 'Remember Cairo Rafi. Word arrived this morning. The city rebelled, but before it did so estimates are six thousand citizens and two hundred soldiers died in the riots.'

'Does their blood count less because I did not stain my hands with it? How many more will die when we must lay siege and take the city again? There will be no rebellion here, no riots. Now, leave me to my work!'

So saying, Vissarionas ek Lesvou rode off among the screaming civilians of Thebes, killing all he could reach.

...

Hours later Thebes is quiet. Vissa's exhausted guardsmen are resting, but Vissa himself still sits in the governor's office examining papers and trying to organize a detail of locals to clear the streets and count the dead. The number will likely approach seven hundred. In the midst of sorting through these piles of documents in a foreign language a squinting Vissa realizes that Rafi has come into the room. The young man looks... scared.

'I'm leaving Vissa. What you did today... who you've become since Cairo... I can't stay Vissa.'

There is again an instant of pain visible on Vissa's face before the mask overcomes it, but his voice is perfectly controlled,

'Where will you go Rafi? Cairo is gone, and the roads north are held by rebels. We're alone here. We need every hand here. I need you.'

'Tell me then, Vissarionas ek Lesvou, in whose service I have honorably counted myself for decades, why? Why were the people here killed? Why was Thebes taken?'

Vissa shakes his head before answering, 'Why? I have set aside the question of why Rafi, because I have decided it has no answer. Why were the Christians of Cairo butchered? Why was the Crusade called? Why did God let Cairo rebel? Why did Cairo reject me? Why did Al-'

Vissa's voice rises on the last words, and then breaks off before resuming in a flat, dead tone, 'I have given up on why Rafi, and so now I stick to what. What could I do to help Byzantium and the Order when I was unfit to govern Cairo? Secure the Holy Sites and capture Thebes. What could I do to prevent riots at Thebes? Sack the castle. So, tell me, what can I do to keep you here?'

Despair and tears fill Rafi's eyes. In a small voice he repies, 'Nothing.'

Vissa nods once, 'Then go and God preserve you. Do you remember the last time I asked you why Rafi? Why, if God is great, must we live this way? It has occurred to me, here in the deserts, that perhaps God is not great. Perhaps he is cruel, and vicious, as the ancient Greeks thought of their gods, and maybe he selects his favored servents for just such qualities, and rewards them where they work his will. Perhaps I have pleased God here, now Rafi, when all that I have done before did not.'

'Consider this, my friend, at Cairo I spared the people the sack of the city and preserved my own innocence. Yet, despite this, blood ran in the streets every day for three years until the rebels threw Methodios out. I was blameless, my hands were clean! But the price of my innocence, of my immaculate hands, was six thousand dead civilians and three years of misery for twenty two thousand more. If I had sacked the city five thousand might have died and my soul would have been stained once more, but order would have held and riots would not have blackened the lives of so many for those years.'

'The total cost of my innocence, then, was exceptional misery for nearly thirty thousand human beings, and death for over six thousand. Look at my hands now, Rafi. I carry the blood of many today, at least dozens, more likely hundreds, but tomorrow those who remain will awaken and be content under my rule. There will be no riots, no misery, and no more death. I cannot help but think that this is what God wants, and I must put what He wants ahead of what I want, ahead of my innocence and bloodless hands.'

'Have you ever wondered, Raphael, what happened to the God of the old days, who would destroy a people so that he could give their lands to his chosen tribe? I think that God still works among us, and my question now is simple; What can I do to please him? I will give why unto his hands and trouble myself with it no more.

'Go with God Rafi. You might want to leave your ek Lesvou garmets in case the rebels are checking people on the road. I will pray that God guides you safely out of here and back to the Empire.'

Vissa's blank eyes then fall back to the documents he was examining. He has trouble enough reading Greek, and puzzling through badly written Arabic sometimes mixed with loan words from the local dialect is giving him a terrible headache. When next he looks up, Rafi is gone.

No reliable word reaches the Empire of the fate of distant Thebes other than the brute fact of it's capture.

:egypt:

flyd

09-05-2008, 01:42

Constantinople, 1140

A pin drops out of the clothing of a Varangian guard, and its impact on the marble floor echoes through the Magnaura. All the Senators turn in his direction. Embarrassed, he quickly picks it up, and again stands at attention.

The doors open. In walks in Basileus Ioannis Komnenos. The doors close and he makes his way to the Imperial throne. He sits, looks over the Senators for a moment, and begins to address them quietly, but plenty loud to be heard.

"First of all, I would like thank all of you who have attended father's funeral and expressed condolences. He was a great man and a good Emperor, and will be missed by all, even his opponents, few in number that they were. He will not be forgotten, but we must move on. Forty days of mourning have passed, and it is time to reopen this Senate session.

"Prior to opening the Session, I would like to announce my first act as Basileus, which is the appointment of a handful of new Senators."

As this announcement is made, a quiet murmur spreads through the crowd. A scribe hands a piece of parchment to the Basileus. He clears his throat, and begins to read.

"The following are now Senators of the Roman Senate, in order of seniority: Lucius Tarqinius Superbus, Appius Claudius Crassus, Servius Aemilius, Publius Cornelius Scipio Nasica, Lucius Cornelius Sulla, Lucius Sergius Catilina, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, Gaius Julius Caesar, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, Marcus Antonius, Tiberius Caesar Augustus, Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus, Titus Flavius Caesar Domitianus Augustus, Caesar Lucius Aurelius Commodus Augustus--

"Ah. Well it goes on," he said and dropped the parchment, "there's like fifty more. No need to read all of them. So, with that, I declare the Session of 1140 open."

Isaakios chuckled. His brother did have a sense of humor after all. Wait, no he didn't.

"I would like to propose a Charter Amendment," said a toga-clad gentleman who looked suspiciously like Julius Caesar. "The following will be added to Section 2.7, powers of the Basileus: (20) The Basileus may disband twenty units per turn from any army."

"Second," said Nero.

"Second," said Appius Claudius.

"I will propose a Charter Amendment myself," said Catiline, "The--"

Isaak ran out of the Magnaura. He stood outside, pale in the face as if he had just seen a large number of ghosts, which it appeared was exactly what happened. He was approached by another man wearing a Roman toga.

"Isaak Komnenos," said the man.

"Who the hell are you?" Isaak asked him.

"I am Lucius Qinctius Cincinnatus."

"No, you're not. He's dead. He's been dead for centuries."

"Well, yes, that's not really important."

"How is that not important!?" Isaak screamed. "It seems important to me!"

"Look, just come with me. We need to talk."

How do you argue with a dead Roman politician? Isaak followed him.

"It is sad to see," Cincinnatus began to rant, "the Roman nation in this day. All its leaders hungry for power, worse than any we have seen. You know, back in the day, twice they called me from my farm, twice it was that they named me Dictator. What did I do? I fought the enemies, and went back home. 'You can have your lictors back,' I told them. Just like that. Would you ever see it today? No! Give any one of your Senators an army, and he will fight you. Give him a dagger, and he will stab you. Turn your back to him, and he will kick your children."

"Well, what I am supposed to do?" Isaak asked.

"Stop them!" said Marcus Porcius Cato (the Younger), who had joined them with a number of other prominent Roman statesmen. "Stop them from tearing the country apart!"

"Return to the old ways," said Marcus Tullius Cicero, "restore the Republic."

"Kill the tyrant!" yelled Gaius Cassius.

"Wait, what? He has done nothing, uh.. yet." Isaak said.

"But he will," said Cato, "he has armies, he is powerful. He wants more power. Same goes for the House leaders. They are powerful and bloodthirsty. There will be blood."

"Well, look, they need those armies to defend the people." Isaak argued.

"The Senate defends the people," said Gaius Marius, "armies whose allegiances lie with private individuals are dangerous."

"Wait, aren't you Marius? What are you doing here?" Isaak asked.

"What?" Marius said in surprise.

"Didn't you try to seize power?"

"What, me?" Marius muttered, "No, I just... I wanted to be Consul again. Sulla was the one who marched on Rome first."

"Well, maybe he wouldn't have marched on Rome if you hadn't been such a @#%$." Isaak told him.

"Hey, all I ever wanted was to ensure all my soldiers and people had land..."

"Yeah!" Tiberius Gracchus exclaimed in support.

"... and be Consul again," Marius continued. "To fight! To fight Mithridates in glorious battle!" he yelled and shook his fist.

"You know, you're not doing a lot to convince me," Isaak said.

"Yeah, can we get somebody else in here, please?" Cincinnatus requested.

"Uh, ah, yes. Here I am," Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus said as he stumbled to the front of the crowd to speak. "Those who look to turn their swords on the Roman people are no friends of Rome. You must fight the enemies of the Senate and the People, not fight for your own power and glory!"

"Uh huh, yeah," Quintus Fabius Maximus said sarcastically.

"Ok, look," Isaak argued, "I'm sure Ioannis will do fine, and the House leaders won't let the power go to their heads."

"Kill the tyrants!" Cassius yelled again.

"I'm not going to kill anyone!" Isaak screamed, "I'm not going to restore or reform anything! I'm leaving."

"You must put the good of the nation ahead of everything else," Cicero said, "even family."

Isaak wasn't listening and forced his way through the crowd, but stopped when he came upon Marcellus Aemilius holding a dagger.

"Oh, is this supposed to be dramatic?" Isaak asked.

Marcellus nodded dramatically.

"Well, you didn't kill Servius, now did you?" Isaak told him.

"What? Hey, I tried," he pleaded, "what do you want?"

"Oh, whatever," Isaak said dismissively, "At least Brutus killed his friend. That would have made for a much better example."

"No, I never did kill Tarqinius, and wasn't all that fond of him to start with" said Lucius Junius Brutus.

"Ah, no, I meant Marcus Brutus and Caesar," Isaak corrected him.

"Yeah, I #@$&ing killed him," said Marcus Junius Brutus.

"Right, of course that's who you meant," Lucius Brutus said, "everyone always does. No one remembers me, and I'm the one who got rid of the real tyrant."

"Oh, so Caesar wasn't a tyrant now?" Marcus asked.

"Hey," Lucius responded, "all I'm saying is that it's arguable. You could make the argument either way. His overthrow wasn't even caused by the death of a young girl. What kind of a proper Roman tyrant is that?"

Lucius Verginius nodded in agreement.

"Oh, please! Like you gave a flying #@$& about Lucretia, it was just an excuse--"

"Hey, #@$& you! I'm not taking this--"

By this point, Isaak had quietly slipped away from the crowd, which was distracted by the argument between the two Bruti. He quietly and carefully walked along the street away from the Romans.

"Hey, he's getting away!" Cicero yelled. "Get him!"

Isaak started running, and they started chasing him. "Go away!" he screamed.

Constantinople, 1131

"Go away!" he screamed and leaped out of bed. "Bah, stupid classical education," he said.

Ramses II CP

09-09-2008, 01:03

(This is a coop with PK and I)

Antioch, 1134

Rafi, longtime companion of Vissarionas ek Lesvou, had arrived in Antioch destitute, starving, and ill. A kindly old woman, recalling his master, had taken him in off the street and spent a few days nursing him as far back to health as could be managed. Now he insisted on leaving, though his strength was not yet fully recovered. Walking through the streets of the city Rafi was impressed by the improvements that had been made since he was last present, but he had little on his mind but reaching the Grandmaster.

The door to the Order of St. John's headquarters in Antioch was guarded by two pleasant enough looking men who, nonetheless, had no recollection of Rafi and were forced to completely refuse him entry. Desperate Rafi asked one of them if he could simply wait until someone who would know him entered or left, and the guards agreed.

The Megas strolled down the street with his usual guards and aids in tow. Moving remarkably fast for a man with a cane, he strode up to the front doors where the guards immediately opened them. Out of the corner of his eye, Makedonios caught a familiar face. Recognizing him as the boy who was with Vissa on Nicosia years ago, Mak stopped.

"Excuse me, have I seen you before?"

Rafi jumps up from his spot beside the door and rushes towards Makedonios, giving the guards a good start, but clearly the spindly young man is hardly a threat even with the Grandmaster using a cane. Rafi kneels rather embarassingly at the Grandmaster's feet before speaking. His desperation is written all over his thin face.

"Please m'lord, if I could have a moment of your time, Vissa is in trouble! I've been his page for years, and I've never seen him like this, not even the first time in Cairo! There has to be something you can do!"

Makedonios looks down at him. "Please, you don't have to kneel before me. Get up and come inside. You can tell me all about it."

"Of course m'lord, lead on. Where can we speak privately?"

Rafi looks nervous, but he follows Makedonios willingly.

The megas moves his head in the direction of the front doors. "Follow me. We'll go to my chambers."

Inside the chambers of the Grandmaster Rafi looks even less comfortable than he did outside, but before Makedonios can even sit down the words start to spill out of him.

"Vissa is in trouble. Not that he's going to be attacked or driven off by Egyptians, but he's getting lost in his own head. This whole business of the Crusade just gutted him, and..."

Rafi hesitates, looking Makedonios directly in the eye as though to weigh his words before continuing. He looks down at the floor again, and says,

"...and there was a woman. There, in Cairo, before he brought back word of the trouble. She somehow comes into it as well. And the Patriarch. Lately there's been a lot about him as well, and Cairo, and blood, and he calls himself Vissarionas the Butcher."

Abruptly Rafi breaks off and his gaze again rises to meet the Grandmaster's eyes. This time he doesn't look back down.

"But I'm not making the slightest bit of sense am I? It's his dreams, of course. They're the key."

At this Rafi pauses expectantly, as though Makedonios should know what he's talking about.

Makedonios looked away and it seemed as if he was staring into a far off place. "Every soldier has nightmares."

He turned back to Rafi. "Your lord was on his own in an enemy held city for years. The strain he was under would have affected anyone."

Rafi replies, speaking quickly now, "Oh I'm sure, but I mean, well, I thought you might already know... Vissa talks in his sleep. Constantly. Serving as his page and his bodyservant I've slept in his room for years, and you can always tell what's on his mind by what kinds of things he talks about after he's asleep."

Rafi looks back at his feet, uncomfortable with this line of discussion.

"After Antioch his dreams disturbed him, made him cry out, night after night. While we were first in Cairo his dreams were direct and purposeful until he met the woman. Then they were, ahh, private. During the Crusade he rested well, peacefully, for the most part. After we took Cairo, however, things turned ugly."

"Vissa began sleeping less, and when he did sleep he... he cursed God in his sleep. Out there in the desert his mind turned in on itself, and even without getting much rest it was obvious that something was eating away at him. Viewing the Holy sites just turned him deeper into himself. I believe he planned the siege of Thebes as a test."

"Then there was the emergency Senate session. Vissa came back from that with some letters from another senator about the Patriarch that obviously disturbed him. He read them over and over. Soon enough we captured Thebes without even a battle, just outwitting the hungry men guarding it, but afterward, inside the walls..."

Rafi looks despondent.

"There was this governor, you understand, and he was trying to get the locals to riot. I would've expected Vissa to talk to him, to bring him around and earn his trust. I was wrong. Vissa and his guardsmen, they just slaughtered them. All of them. He didn't shrink from it, or hold back when they started to run. Hundreds of dead, and the castle itself sacked."

"The worst was afterward. I would have expected... regret? Shame? Something. Yet he was content. Sorting through paperwork with blood still on his clothes. His eyes disconnected and empty. When he spoke it was clear that he believe he'd found some sort of new place in life. A new purpose."

"M'lord he said that God was cruel, and that God chose his servants for that capacity. If something isn't done he may just ride away south, into the desert, and never come back."

Makedonios listened to Rafi closely.

"Vissa always seemed to take on guilt that never was really his. I'm not surprised that he became consumed by it."

The Grandmaster's demeanor became stern.

"But that does not excuse his actions. If what you say about Thebes is true, then he has turned down the wrong path. He needs to get on the right one. I have authorized a small chapel for Thebes. Hopefully, the presence of Orthodoxy will bring Vissa some comfort. I'll make sure a priest gets assigned to the area."

Rafi's reply is deeply grateful, "Thank you m'lord. I know you are a busy man, I will try not to take up any more of your time. A priest is hopefully just what Vissa needs! With Cairo retaken my journey back to Thebes should be easier."

"M'lord, if you could, ask the priest to be... discreet. I would not want Vissa to get a reputation as a madman or a heretic."

Mak nods.

"Go with God Rafi and watch over Vissa. He's a good man but he has his demons. And some of those are of his own invention."

Rafi caught passage on one of the last merchant trains to escape Antioch ahead of the Templar siege. As they rode south he found himself wondering why there were so many Catholics on the road, but his thoughts quickly turned back to his master.

Thebes, 1134

Vissarionas ek Lesvou stood on the low walls of Thebes watching the sun set over the desert. It had become his constant daily habit; there was something extremely pleasant to him in seeing the great fiery orb swallowed up in the heat haze which it had, itself, spent the day creating. It gave the impression that the sun might be dropped into a hole carved just for it and never rise again, leaving the world in darkness.

In his hands were the letters Apionas Vringas had given him after the emergency Senate session. It had become his habit to read those again and again before the sunset as well, drawing out their meaning as the light failed around him. 'Here,' Vissa mused in his thoughts, 'truth can be had at last. God's own right hand working God's will in the world, to the Almighty's obvious and infinite delight. I am a poor servant, Lord, but I shall walk where you lead and fear no evil, for thou art with me. Amen.'

There, off to the north, the dust cloud of a rider could be seen, drawing ever closer. Vissa began winding his crossbow. A rider in Greek garmets, with a purple saddle blanket, befitting a messenger. As he drew out a bolt Vissa's eyebrows quirked, and he thought, 'Quick work Methodios. You are favored even above what I had expected. God knows, you do not lack the will to do what must be done.'

With only the slightest, most imperceptable hesitation Vissa fitted a bolt into his crossbow, keeping it below the wall, where it wouldn't be visible. When the horseman drew up at the gates and prepared to announce himself Vissa raised the crossbow and shot him in the throat. The corpse spilled into the dust of the road, still hold the horse's reins.

Climbing down without obvious haste Vissa opened the man sized access way beside the main gate and walked out onto the poor little road. The rider's tabard was the only thing that made him obviously Byzantine, so Vissa cut it off and tucked it into the horse's saddlebags. With no water or food the beast had poor odds of making it back to civilization. Still, it didn't pay to be careless. With the animal watching him cautiously Vissa removed his dagger and drew a thin, bloody line along it's right flank, which set it off running back the way it had come. With a quick search it became clear that the message had gone off with the horse, so Vissa left the body tumbled down in the dirt there and walked back inside the castle.

Just off the main square a light scaffolding showed that tomorrow the work crews would be putting the finishing touches on the artless chapel the Megas had commissioned for Thebes. 'Past time to be gone on both accounts,' Vissa thought. A street deeper the quarters he had taken for his guardsmen were quiet. Striding inside, Visa announced,

"We ride tonight. Get ready."

:egypt:

Privateerkev

09-11-2008, 03:46

This story is a co-op between TheFlax and myself. It takes place a couple days before this battle. (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=2010711&postcount=36)

Antioch 1134:

With the afternoon sun still high in the sky, a small group of worn travelers leave the relative safety of the Templar camps surrounding Antioch, heading for the city's gates.

Through the gates, the travelers could see hundreds of spearmen turned out and in position by the entry. A guard looked at the group and was not going to allow entry until one produced an impeccable document bearing a certain seal.

They are let in. Walking through the streets, the travelers notice the city is quiet. All citizens are taking shelter in their homes while all able-bodied men are in gear and assembled at the gate. The group knows the way to the Order's Chapter-House.

While one walks in, the rest stand guard outside. Because of the coming battle, most of the Order's men are out in the city preparing. The Chapter-House is pretty much empty. Makedonios is in his chambers looking over reports.

Relief overwhelms Anna as she spies Makedonios safe and well, for now. Ignoring all protocol and formality, she moves swiftly to embrace him in silence.

She felt light in his arms. While in shock at her show of affection, Mak had the presence of mind to swing an arm and knock his door shut. Not wanting to spoil the moment, he just holds her for awhile.

"Makedonios," Anna held him more tightly as she spoke his name. "I feared for the worse."

He moved a hand up to stroke her hair. Tired of using dry formalities by this point, he spoke her name for only the second time ever. "Anna, it's ok. I'm right here. I'm not even ill anymore." His illness had faded just a few months ago. His napkin and cane were gone. His voice was strong and lacking the usual coughs and sniffles. He stood straight and held her against him with ease.

Lightly, she moved from him with a step. Her previously radiant features were now downcast, she dared not meet his gaze.

"I failed. They told me God has abandoned us..."

He took a half-step towards her and put his hand on her forearm. "It is not your fault. Things have changed within the Templars. Iakovos's Uncle was high up in their ranks and he was our biggest proponent. He just passed away. With him gone, the papal bull giving them more privilege, and Adana being taken by the Turks, they had the perfect situation. I had the Order's forces spread out across the Levant and Antioch was open. They simply took advantage of us being distracted."

"I had thought that, if only I could be here, I could somehow alter your current predicament." Anna kept her eyes low, her soft voice holding a hint of shame. "I now realize something else than my misguided beliefs drove me here."

Keeping his hand on her arm, Makedonios waited for her to speak.

The room remained silent as Anna mustered the courage to continue. She was tempted to avoid the topic, yet she knew that if she wavered now, she might never get another opportunity to reveal the truth of her feelings to Makedonios. Anna knew she would be consumed with regret for the remainder of her life if she didn't follow through with what she had started.

"I know you mean the words you wrote me, and I share those feelings. I have struggled with my feelings for most of my life and I am wary of that impossible battle. The fear of losing you for eternity made me realized I could not simply ignore my heart as I have in the past."

While Makedonios leaves his one hand on her arm, he rubs her cheek with the other. "I always knew you felt that way. But it is very nice to hear it."

Anna places a hand over the one on her cheek and her gaze rises to his. For an instant, she seems to have regained the innocence long since lost in her youth. "I am sorry about that."

He smiled at her. "You have nothing to apologize for. You had your duty. I didn't understand that at first but I do now. You fulfilling your duty didn't change your feelings towards me. You've always been there for me. And it got me through the tough times." With that, he steps closer, leans in, and kisses her forehead.

"Tell me," She whispers. "when do you expect to face the Templars?" Anna wanted to ask how much time they had together, but this was as close as she got.

Makedonios looks up and thinks for a moment. "I have reinforcements on their way. They're on horse so it shouldn't be too much longer. A day, maybe two."

"I take it you will sally when your reinforcements arrive?" With the change of topic, Anna has regained her composure and it seems as she is back to her old self.

He nods while still holding her. "Yeah, the sooner I can break the siege, the better. But that won't be for a day or two. The preparations that can be made, are made. So, for tonight, I'm all yours."

Anna's features brightened noticeably, she gave Makedonios a warm smile. "I assume then you will join me for the evening meal?"

He liked seeing her smile. "Of course. We can do what ever you like tonight. And, with everyone out in the city preparing and resting, we'll have some privacy."

"Good." She moves a few steps away and then turns. "I should get myself ready then."

Early the next morning:

As a young man, Makedonios held up his sword. To his left and right were comrades but they were few in number. The Turks came streaming down the mountain like a wave. Someone yelled behind him that one of the supporting armies had abandoned the field. Cut off, the small group braced for battle. A cloud of arrows came in and blotted out the sun. The young man hunkered down behind his shield and heard the sounds of the arrows hitting the ground. When the sound stopped, he dared to look up. A Turkish cavalryman was charging at him...

Makedonios sat up in bed in a panic. His breathing heavy, he felt his face. Instead of a gaping wound, there was just the scar. It was the same nightmare he had every night since the battle at Manzikert. The breathing calmed down a little. Dawn light was just starting to leak through the windows. Out of the corner of his left eye, he noticed the light illuminate a shape under the covers. Grinning at the thought of what had happened last night, he saw her stir a little. Leaning over, he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her sweaty cheek.

The kiss moved her to a wakeful state, as she gently opened her eyes and blinked a few times. With one hand she rubbed lightly her sleepy eyes, before lying in silence with her gaze lost in the ceiling, as if deep in reflexion.

He looked down at her and smiled. He moved his hand to her shoulder and let it lie there. "Good morning."

Anna tilted her head in his direction and attempted to return the smile, but her features were unmistakably etched with concern.

"What's wrong?" As he asked, he came back down to her level and leaned on his elbow while still keeping his one hand on her shoulder.

"We..." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. She gave up and answered flatly. "This."

The smile faded from his face. "What about this?"

"The consequences..." Anna once more opted to revisit her reply. "Do not misconstrue my words, I do not regret what we have done, yet I worry about the future now that it has been done."

His features lightened and he nodded. "I don't regret anything either. As for the consequences, we will deal with them as they come. I went into this with both eyes wide open." With his next words, he smiles more. "And you certainly didn't seem to be worrying about consequences when you pushed me onto the bed last night after supper."

She smiled lightly at the memory his words brought, yet her voice remained somber. "Nevertheless, I am thinking about them at this moment. I don't want to see you hurt in anyway by this."

He stroked her hair. "You're assuming anyone will find out. And even if they do, I don't care. Last night was more than worth it."

Anna's gaze returned to the ceiling. "They will, they always do."

He simply shrugged. "Who's going to tell anyone? I'm certainly not. This place has been empty all night since everyone is camped outside. And even if someone finds out, I'm not afraid. Things will be ok. You just need to have a little faith."

She turned her head away. "I could not face Ioannis without telling him. I have broken the oath I made before God, I doubt blind faith will help me now. Makedonios, we can't leave this up to chance. This is serious."

Mak grunted. "Ioannis is the last man I have sympathy for. If it wasn't for him, we would have been happily sharing this here bed for years and you know it. He took advantage of the political situation at the time and got you forced into a marriage for his own benefit. Something tells me God would understand, considering the circumstances."

He pauses while thinking for a moment. "But if you have to tell him, I understand. Your the one that has to live with him. I'll deal with whatever fallout that comes from this. With the coming battle against the Templars, I have much more important things to worry about than his hurt feelings."

Anna replied with a muted sigh. "Of course. That was inconsiderate of me. You cannot even be sure of what the next few days hold for you, and here I am prattling about political repercussions." She shifted herself in order to face and beamed a comforting smile. "You fight your battle and I will fight mine, I will take care of my husband."

His hand touched her face as he returned her smile. "I'll understand if we can never do this again. But I'm glad we finally did."

She nodded slowly, still deep in thought, nevertheless, it was obvious she was in agreement with Makedonios' statement.

I know what I am about to say is assumed with every story. But, due to the nature of this story, I will make it very clear. Absolutely no one has IC knowledge of this story unless one of our characters gives it to you. :yes:

Privateerkev

09-13-2008, 06:42

Antioch 1134: A couple of months later:

Makedonios read over the latest letter he had received. Staring at it for a moment, he thought fast. The Megas got up, opened his chamber door and called for his shieldbearer and veteran warrior to come in.

"Nick, Ioannis! I need to see you."

The two men walked in and shut the door. Nick was a massive hulking dark skinned Greek who had guarded Mak for years. Ioannis was a grizzled middle-aged vet with a serious air about him. Both would do anything for Makedonios.

"Nick, you have a family right?"

The big man smiled. "My wife Maria and I have 8 kids. A new one seems to appear 9 months after I appear home on leave." With that, he grinned wider.

Mak nodded. "Alright, I need her help with something. Can you get her family to take care of the kids for a month or so? Maybe more?"

"Sure. She'd love to help. What do you need her to do?"

"Just bring her to our back-up rendezvous spot in the capital."

He then turned to Ioannis. "I need you to travel to Nicosia. Go to the Kykkos Monastery and speak with Esaias. Tell him I sent you. He owes me a favor. Tell him I'm bringing him a visitor and to make preparations. He'll know what it means. Then go to Constantinople to meet us." He looks at both of them. "I'll take the rest of my guards and make my own way to the capital on official business."

"Clear?"

Both men nodded. They knew better than to ask for details that did not have to do with their specific tasks.

Smowz

09-14-2008, 00:00

Iconium 1137

The party was in full swing - the celebration resounded all around the fine buildings that Zigavinos had build in the centerpiece of Anatolia that was Iconium. The mood of the populace was happy enough too, it was true their governor had spent a great deal of time helping reshape the local area and so they had come to respect him. A young lady approached Nevoulas ek Philadelphius now, wine drenched here cloth clinging them close to her well rounded body. She had clearly enjoyed the merriment of the occasion and was seeking to please the clearly distracted nobleman.

The lady stumbled into Nevoulas sloshing wine down his rather plain toga, shaking himself out of his thought trail, Nevoulas thought ... why not? I have earned this. Grabbing the wench he kissed her firmly suckling the sweet wine that she had been guzzling. After a short time, Nevoulas let the clinch go softly eyeballing the girl. Clearly somewhat giddy that one of the mysterious powerful visitors had taken a shine to her the girl passed out.

'Pah' came a voice behind. 'Nevoulas, even in party you cannot help but sweeping all aside'

It was his lead bodyguard. Nevoulas simply turned and looked expectantly, he didn't care these days to bother with idle chit chat with his sub-ordinates. A consequence of his recent command experience, Nevoulas now had respect of his fellow men and now he aimed to keep it.

The bodyguards face changed when he noticed his masters fiery look.

'Your matter, commander. I request you follow me, I think we have found the man you are looking for'

Nevoulas knew it was poor form to leave the party, but some matters were more important to him than some Roman protocols. Following the successful recent battle in the field, Nevoulas had asked that the prisoners be processed before being sent as a ransom demand to the Egyptian command. He was acutely aware that the Fatamid Sultanite was in flight and barely capable of keeping themselves alive let alone pay an extravagant demand. They strange order to interview each man before they were executed had frustrated his men, who wished to finish their business. However it seemed Nevoulas instinct was correct, there was one who he wished to see and certainly not expire his life.

Months earlier he thought he caught a glimpse of the aged looks of his brother at the Hippodrome. He who had long ago who had turned to fight with the Seljuk Sultanite after they had killed his and Nevoulas' father.

As Nevoulas turned to see a sad sight in the holding room opposite him now he smirked at the irony, how wrong you were my brother. Here he was though, praying in the fashion of the Islamic belief, chanting in the foriegn tongue. Frustrated, Nevoulas pushed past the guard and forced his fallen sibling to his feet.

'Stop it, Makedonias. Please'

Makedonias wrestled back fiercely however his starved frail nature allowed Nevoulas to pin him down soon enough.

'Please sit down and listen'

As soon as Nevoulas released his grip, Makedonias cocooned up in a fetal position and started that damned chant again.

'Please if you have any memory or respect for mother and father listen to me know else I swear to you I will...'

'Will what my brother?' Makedonias shouted in response practically spitting out the words my brother. 'You will kill me barbarically, slaughter an innocent man is that your Roman way?'

Progress, Nevoulas thought. He would not debate with Makedonias now, that would be saved for later, at least there was debate to be had. Nevoulas was interested as to why his brother a Seljuk Sultanate captain was in an Egyptian Jihad. Was this linked with the Moorish Jihad, could the parties be working together as one? Which followed that if as seemed likely that they were working together had they shared intelligence.

Those questions were for later, that was not the cause of the tear in Nevoulas' eye. Finally after all those years of setting out, Nevoulas ek Philadelphius had some inner peace, his father and mother now in the after life would be looking on with relief no doubt. Nevoulas looked forward to showing his brother the complete error of his ways, and reforming him whilst he gathered information. In the meantime, he had a party to get back to and perhaps a spot of womanising ....

Turning to the guard, Nevoulas instructed that the prisoner was to be fed and washed and kept under watch.

Smowz

09-14-2008, 11:56

On the road to Constantinople 1138

The last couple of months had been good to Nevoulas ek Philadelphius , he had enjoyed the company if his Asteri hosts and grown to know and like this young Nikiphoras. It had not been all partying for Nevoulas, it had been a time for his family and a time for reflection.

As he rode on his trusted steed right now he looked back to see his caged brother, now looking somewhat more respectful but still rebellious. Over and again he had tried to escape, likewise he had resisted the logical arguments they had had about the new Roman empire under the Komnenus reign.

The Komnenus line, Nevoulas mused had delivered on their promise to restore the empire back towards its former glories and then some.... Say what you like about the current Caeser and soon to be next Basilues he knew how to fight and even now the house that he set up continue to hunt the Seljuk leadership now far out of Anatolia and into the lands from whence they came. Not that his allies were the only people to have done the empire great service, the crusade to sieze the riches in Egypt had almost wiped out the Fatamid Caliphate and the Order continued to wield its might in the holy land.

Nevoulas shook his head out of the daze, and looked around at the sizable army he had seized for himself. Good fierce men who knew the battlefield well, he had handpicked the best troops to travel with him on his quest. Leaving his fellow noblemen behind, leaving vague directions as to his plans Nevoulas had struck out alone. He calls a halt to proceedings now, and orders his men to rest as he dismounts and wanders back to the cage where his brother sat cross-legged.

'Is this supposed to impress me Nevoulas' spat out Makedonias. 'These roads, these clothes, I know where you are going and even that will not impress me, your capitol is full of decadence'

'and you would know about that wouldn't you Maka' Nevoulas replied quickly 'Yes, you have been there before'

'sure back when we were young' answer Makedonias '...come to think of it probably before you were born.... yes when father took me....'

'No' Nevoulas cut in angrily. It frustrated him to hear Makedonias speak of their father so. 'YOU were there recently, and I intend to find out why'

Makadonias glared at his younger brother 'Don't you see Nevo, you and your empire will never wipe us out. The more you tighten your grip, the more it will slip through your fingers. Why I wager even now their will not even be a Capitol when we get there' he smiles smugly. Then looking up at the sky he proceeds to start chanting.

Nevoulas let him, he had grown to accept the ritual now, his brother could believe what he wanted to believe and Nevoulas knew he was in part correct, he had heard reports of a large army of unknown warriors was now approaching the capital and even now the nobleman left there were scurrying to prepare their men. How many of these cursed Jihads did they have to kill? Nevoulas sat at the side of the road alone and proceeded to look at the map he had acquired off of a merchent in Iconium. One which pointed to a land from whence this new threat had come. These 'Moors' were not from the east but rather from within Christendom it seemed... Nevoulas intended to find out the nature of this threat and fully combat it.

Privateerkev

09-16-2008, 04:35

This story is a co-op between TheFlax and myself. It is set, not coincidentally, 9 months after this story (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=2012377&postcount=169).

Constantinople 1134:

The small party made it's way through the storm sewers below the capital. Coming up a ladder, they arrived in a cellar. Leaving men behind to keep an eye on the sewers and cellar, the rest quietly made their way through the vast estate with the aid of perfect directions.

Arriving at the right room, Makedonios knocks and then opens the door, leaving the rest out in the hallway.

In the room, Anna was lying asleep in an expansive and luxurious bed. Even in her rest, she seemed weary and completely spent. Nearby, there was a crib with a newborn baby also sleeping for the time being. Overlooking the infant was an older woman than Anna with a severe expression. Her graying hair was pulled back into a bun for practicality and her sharp eyes immediately turned to Makedonios as he entered.

The Megas looked at the midwife and jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. She scowled at him in return. He put a finger to his mouth to signal her to be silent. He then pulled out his seal of office, gave her a stern look, and again jerked his thumb towards the door.

She relented and left. A couple of his guards took her down the hallway and sat her in a side room. Orders had been quietly changed to make sure no staff were assigned to this part of the estate on this night. No one would know Makedonios or his men were here.

Makedonios walked over to the crib to see his son. He remembered when Anna had snuck into his bedroom decades ago and he smiled. Quietly walking back over to her bed, he bent over, laid a hand on her shoulder, and gently woke her up. "Anna..."

Anna mumbled something inaudible as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking several times her vision finally focused itself on the origin of the voice who had called her name. She gave him a tired smile.

"Makedonios... thank you."

He lovingly brushed hair from her forehead. "I'm the one that should be thanking you. He looks wonderful. For obvious reasons I can't stay long. But there are a couple things we need to talk about. Would you like to hold him while we talk?"

She propped herself to a sitting position and looked at the infant. In hushed tones she answered Makedonios. "Best not wake him if you want to be discreet."

He nodded and sat next to her on the bed. "Alright, we haven't spoken about this stuff in letters for obvious reasons. But I hope you understand that I quite simply need to take him with me tonight. He isn't safe here. I admit I have been beside myself with worry ever since I got your cryptic letter."

The new father glances over in the direction of the crib. "You know how these things play out. Someone in the family tree gets afraid and seeks out all those who might have a claim to the throne. I fear by creating him, you and I put our son in grave danger. He needs to disappear. I hate to take him away from you but I would hate even more to think of what might happen if your husband, or even worse, your older brother started getting paranoid."

"Yes, you have to take him." Anna glanced once more at the newborn. "I only ask you write to me about him, whenever you have the opportunity to do so."

He nods again. "Of course I will. But keep in mind that he won't be with me. For his own safety, I'll have to stay away from him as well. I'll know where he is, and I'll keep an eye on him, he will have to go through his whole childhood without knowing us."

Makedonios looks at her and allows himself a small comforting smile. "Do you have any questions?"

Exhaustion increasingly apparent, she shook her head lightly with her eyes downcast.

He looked at her sympathetically. "We're almost done. I know you need your rest. There is just one more thing to figure out. What do you wish to name him?"

"I thought you would want to name him." She chuckled. "My husband dislikes most of the name I've chosen for my other children."

He smiled. "I feel singularly inadequate to the task. Plus, he might never meet you. I think it would be nice if he had something from you. It won't be the name he has in public of course. But it will be his 'real' name."

"Very well." She paused a few moments to reflect upon an appropriate name. "Constantine, yes, he shall be our little Constantine. I trust you will make sure he is baptized soon?"

Mak nodded. "I like it. A good strong name. Shame no one will ever know it. And yes, I'll get him baptized. I have it all arranged. Oh yes, you get to be the first to know. I've decided I'm going to retire as Grandmaster. And I'm not running for re-election as Megas." He looks over at the crib. "I have other things I have to take care of now."

He stands up. "I know your exhausted so I'll take my leave." He leans over and kisses her on the forehead.

"May God watch over you Makedonios." Her features voiced a sadness she could not express in words.

The Megas walks over to the crib and gently picks the baby up for the first time. Little Constantine stirs a little but doesn't wake up. He walks back over to Anna while gently bouncing. He speaks in almost a whisper. "One last thing. He has to die. It's the only way we'll keep him safe. When my men let the midwife back in here, I need you to tell her the baby didn't make it. Tell her I took care of... the disposal. I don't expect everyone to believe it but it might throw people off enough. If we want this little guy having any sort of future, he simply can not exist."

He pauses a moment to see if Anna wants to say goodbye to her child.

Anna only gave a simple nod of understanding.

Taking the queue, Makedonios left the room.

ULC

09-17-2008, 07:20

1140, Constantinople

Nikolaos climbed the steps of the Magnaura in the red and white of his House, his robes flapping in a light breeze. He quickly made his way towards the entrance, which was a set of magnificent doors, each elegantly crafted, with an attending Varangian at each side. Nikolaos's thought suddenly drift back to when he was once a member of their ranks, and the day it had all changed...

---------------------------

1126, Constantinople

Nikolaos moved nervously from foot to foot, standing in the Imperial Palaces halls in his uniform and ceremonial armor, both scrubbed so clean as to look brand new. He had been summoned from his duties guarding the Magnaura by the Basileus himself, for a purpose beyond him other then "appear your best". He had waited almost an hour at this point, and when a page had come out, he had rushed over to ask if it was time. Nikolaos's huge size easily dwarfed the poor man, who was taken offguard by the Varangian, but he quickly recovered.

"I am sorry, the Basileus is in attendance with a noble at this moment, discussing state business...please be patient." The page turned past Nikolaos and announced another name, something about a Genoese Merchant.

Nikolaos continued his pacing, waiting patiently. When it seemed that even the normally calm and collected Varangian was about to lose patience, the page returned and nodded. "It is time."

Nikolaos was ushered into the Basileus's office, the doors closing quickly and quietly behind him. Sitting in a most regal chair with Captain Harald standing off to his right, Basileus Aleksios looked over tented fingers at Nikolaos, "Please sit."

Nikolaos obeyed without question, hesitation foreign to him, training drilled into him, and loyalty demanding it of him. He sat quietly, as seconds began to tick by, counted by an exotic water clock on the Basileus's desk. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and Nikolaos was beginning to wonder if the Basileus was going to speak at all.

As the tension reached a climax, Aleksios spoke with an even controlled tone. "You are Nikolaos Bjorn Aristenos?"

Nikolaos quickly responded in crisp military precision. "Yes, your Majesty."

"You have served for the last four years as a Varangian Guard, alternatively serving at the Magnaura, Hippodrome, as personal bodyguard to my sons, my daughter and her husband, and assisting in the arrest and execution of Organization members. Your work has not gone unnoticed." Aleksios reached across his desk for some papers and laid them in front of him, before returning his hands to their normal, tented place in front of him.

Nikolaos would have swelled with pride had not respect and discipline been drilled into him. "Indeed, I have done what you said, but I have done nothing more then any member of the Varangain Guard should have", was the clean-cut answer Nikoalos gave instead. His eyes were drawn to the paper between him and the Emperor.

Aleksios noted Nikolaos's gaze before continuing. "Do not be modest Nikolaos, it is unbecoming for a man of your talent. I wish I could have a man as loyal, obedient and...level-headed as you, but alas, your kind seem in short supply. I hope to rectify that, by rewarding you with a promotion to Strator and Senator of the Roman Empire."

Nikolaos training failed him for the briefest of moments as shock played over him, Captain of the Guard one day, but this! This was beyond Nikolaos's wildest dreams.
"Your Majesty, I thank you! From the depths of my heart I thank you I tha-".

Aleksios motioned for him to be still, and Nikolaos quickly returned to his normal disciplined self. "Do not be so hasty in your thanks. As a Senator, you will not be allowed to be a member of the Varangian Guard. I will not have the most loyal and trusted men under my command tainted by politics, I know my history too well. If you agree to this, then you will resign from the Varangian Guard effective immediately."

Nikolaos was to overjoyed to argue. "Anything your Majesty!"

Aleksios pushed the papers in front of him forward. "These are documents legitimizing your claims as Strator and Senator of the Roman Empire. I will have you sign them, and then you may be on your way. I will keep a copy for myself."

Nikolaos quickly signed all the papers with a speed that would do a court scribe shame. After signing them, Nikolaos held out his hand in expectation.

Aleksios let Nikolaos hand hang in the air as he reviewed the documents, insuring their legality. He then set them aside, and looking back from Nikolaos to his hand, reached out after a few seconds and shook it, his hand engulfed in Nikolaos's.

Nikolaos smiled as he vigorously shook the Basileus's hand. A smile broke out across his face, and after a crisp salute, let go of Aleksios's hand and marched out. As the doors shut behind him, one could hear him whoop for joy.

After the newly promoted man had left, Aleksios turned to Harald, "Make sure he is watched, I want to ensure that he does indeed sever his old ties. The last few years have convinced me that even some of the Varangians are suspect."

Harald look troubled, but nodded, "It will be done, your Majesty."

------------------------------------------------------

Nikolaos shook himself from his reverie, and making his way past his old friends, entered the
Magnaura.

Done with permission, editing, and help from OK

Privateerkev

09-17-2008, 19:58

This story takes place a couple months after this story (https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpost.php?p=2016438&postcount=173).

Nicosia 1134:

The past few weeks had been a blur. After leaving Anna's temporary quarters, Makedonios handed little Constantine over to Maria, the wife of his shield-bearer, Nick. The small group had made their way back to the storm sewer. Surrounded by his most trusted men, the Megas led them through the catacombs to a port. A non-descript craft waited for them and they were off. Being Megas had it's perks. One of them was that it was quite easy to issue naval orders that looked very innocent and procedural. Being Megas also gave Mak knowledge of naval patrols. After a few switchovers, they were finally on a private craft owned by Nick's family. Anyone who later looked at naval orders would only find a routine personnel transfer from Constantinople to somewhere in Greece.

Sailing the private craft themselves, and able to avoid naval patrols, the small group arrived in Nicosia just in time for the new year. Finally on safe ground, the group relaxed a little. Cyprus was Mak's island and Nicosia was his private castle. No one found it odd that him and his men were in town for the new year's festivities. It also allowed him full control over security. If they had been followed, he would know about it.

After the festivities, Makedonios left his guards and retinue behind. Carrying little Constantine himself, he rode off across the island. The island was his home and he knew every road, trail, militia patrol, and local bandit. He knew exactly what route to take to make sure he wasn't noticed or followed. Finally arriving at the Kykkos Monastery in the dead of night, Mak knocked on the door of the one in charge, Esaias.

Esaias quickly opened the door and ushered the father and son inside. "I'm glad to see you made it Makedonios." The two men were old friends and used the other's first name while in private.

Makedonios took a seat and accepted some tea. Constantine was still sleeping in a harness around Mak's torso. "I see Ioannis visited you. I can't thank you enough for doing this."

Esaias sipped his own cup of tea while taking a seat. "It is not a problem. While the Emperor might have signed off on the funds for this place back in 1081, I know it was you who lobbied so hard for it. No one but me knows who the boys father is. I'll simply present him to the monastary as a 'left on doorstep in the dead of night' orphan. Lord knows we have plenty of those. No one will think twice about it."

Makedonios's tone turned stern. "I won't get into particulars, or into who the mother is, but I'll just say I have my share of political opponents. Some might dig into things. If anyone were to look into things here, I expect to be notified."

The older man nodded. "Of course. But I wouldn't worry. Strangers stand out around these parts. But I won't take any chances. I'll treat him as I would any orphan. He'll grow up here and learn the ways of the Order. He'll be a young boy and he'll grow up into a man. I take it that at that point, you'll have plans for him?"

Another sip of tea. "That will depend on my talk with him. I'll drop by from time to time but I will have no contact with him until he hits adulthood. It's for his own safety. When he becomes a man, I will speak with him. What he does at that point will be up to him."

Esaias nods. "Alright, now that is settled, you should probably get going while he is still sleeping. I will go and 'find' him at the monastary's front door. Go with God Makedonios."

The Megas nods. "And God go with you as well Esaias." The father slowly took off the harness with his son, gently kissed the boy on the head, and handed him to the Head Monk.

GeneralHankerchief

09-19-2008, 06:13

First Interlude

On Leadership

Despite the strict feudal limitations placed on them, the endless claims that they alone cannot accomplish anything, and our political system in which abuses of power are being heavily checked, the fact remains that our leaders are the masters of the world. They themselves may have forgotten that, but for all of their power they are but a small fraction of the Byzantine population as a whole. The majority, the people that toil for the benefit of these nearly-mythical figures in order to create a decent living for themselves, have not forgotten. They see men, glorious men in shining armor and riding majestic horses, men leading armies of thousands to the far ends of the earth, and marvel at the unlimited scope of their power.

For, compared to the masses, the scope of their power is indeed unlimited. To the child that has to get up well before sunrise every morning in order to go to church and work on his father's farm to make sure that the year's crop is a success, the notion of leading armies into the field is the stuff of dreams, if it is even that. But yet, the Senators of the Magnaura take this awesome right for granted, even complaining if their forces are understrength. Would that the average farmer had even two hundred peasants, a paltry amount not even fit for garrison duty according to most Senators, at his command and ready for him to lead them to the next life, for better or for worse!

Yes, our leaders are, to a man, able to shape the entire world's destiny at will. They are all powerful, that is not to be disputed. The thing that sets these titans among men apart from each other, however, is how they use the power that is granted to them. Amongst the peasantry, each general, each leader, is equally great; infinitely above their comprehension. However, in the Magnaura, where the opinions of fellow Senators are nowhere near as lofty as the rest of the Empire's, the situation is very different. Should a Senator want to mount the pedestal and be regarded as a standard of greatness even among their fellows, a sort of Zeus among Olympians as our ancestors of two millenia would say, then he must act as a leader and not just be one.

On a smaller scale, this is done through personality. People will respond in different ways to different traits; chivalry vs. dread is an easy example of this, as is piety vs. impiety. While the great balancers, those who attempt to reconcile the two opposites, are notable in their own right, the greatest of men usually take the extremes; either as an incorruptable man of God who refuses to bend his moral code, or as a master of terror who strikes fear in the hearts of all who have heard his name.

However, the greatest factor, perhaps somewhat influenced by personality, is a leader's decision-making. How he chooses to utilize the vast resources at his disposal affects the lives of all and changes the course of history. Does the general decide to push on with an army despite it being understrength and the odds being long? He could fail and endanger the entire front. He could succeed and bring another city into the Byzantine embrace. Or, should he choose the safer option, he saves the lives of countless peasants and artisans but fails to conquer new land. These are decisions that leaders are tasked with every day, and yet they still complain about their lack of power!

The time will come when the decisions become more difficult. Whether the leader acts in the name of the betterment of the Byzantine people, or for personal glory. Take the probable example of a Senator who desires more land, and thus, influence and power. There is a large foreign army guarding the nearest enemy city, just daring the Senator to come and attack. On the other hand, the unguarded inner territories of a political rival lie just next door. When the time comes for that Senator to make a decision, the world, including its rulers, will know exactly what kind of a man he is through his leadership. Is he noble and dedicated to the Byzantine Empire, no matter how he personally feels about it and seeks to advance its glory, or does he put himself above all else and seek to advance his name at the expense of the Empire?

Make no mistake about it, that time will eventually come, perhaps multiple times. And when it does, the future of this great Empire will be determined totally by the actions of its leaders and what they do with the enormous power they command. It is, then, up to proper leadership to ensure that Byzantium continues to reign.

Ilias Papaspyrou, University graduate
Undated essay

Smowz

09-19-2008, 18:48

Makedonias ek Philadelphius taps on the bars of his cell loudly. In comes one of his brothers precious bodygaurd, one of his trusted captains that had been left on charge on keeping an eye on him.

Well, has my brother's folly been exposed. I am sure it will be as I said, these Romans look after themselves a simple man from Athens can never be allowed important offices he is but a vassel to these men....

Makedonias continues to rant and rave for a short time.

The bodyguard waits for a moment and simply announces....

My lord Nevoulas ek Philadelphius is winning the election.

With that, Makedonias looks dumbfounded. He falls to the ground in disbelief looking this way and that for some support from the unforgiving cell. His brother, that runt Nevoulas ... Megas. He put his hands to his temple a screamed in jeolous forklorn rage, this was wrong... this was not as it should be. His eyes closed all he could see is the smug self assured look of his brother looking down at him mockingly.

Ibn-Khaldun

09-19-2008, 22:53

Venice, 1140

Theo raised his head slowly. He had a headache. The worst hangover ever. Trying to get up from the chair he finally noticed that he was tied to it. After couple of minutes later when his head became much clearer he looked around in the room. Besides the chair where he sat there was nothing in it.

"Now this is weird! I know that the Varangians don't like me drinking in Magnaura but I doubt that they would put me in jail because of that!" Theo thought himself.

The last thing he remembered was that he came from a small gathering after the end of the Senate Session. There were some "female friends" and a lot of wine. After he left from that small "gathering" he had walked around the city trying to get sober enough to go to the Orders quarters in Constantinople. He remembered some noise behind and a hard punch against his head. And then he woke up in here.

Suddenly he heard some noises behind the door. He listened more carefully and heard some Italian words. Prigioniero, fare parlare di lui, ucciderlo were the only ones that he understood and he really didn't like to hear them. From what he remembered those meant prisoner, make him talk, kill him. The last part made him a bit nervous. He heard the key in the lock and the door were opened. Four man stepped in.

"What is this? Who are you? Do you know who I am? I am a Senator and a Knight of the Order!" Theo said with an angry voice.

"Correction. You are just a Sergeant. And now shut up you bastardo" said one of them.

"What do you know about the lettera? Who has it? Who knows about our piani?" asked the second one.

"About what? About your piano?" asked Theo while raising his eyebrows.

"No! About our piani you bastardo! Piani not piano!" said the third one with an annoyed voice.

"Oh.. About your P-I-A-N-I?! Well.. what should I supposed to know about it? Four badly dressed Italians are playing weird games with a person who is tied on a chair? Did you meant that?" Theo asked with a sneer.

"Bastardo! Io uccidere te!" yelled the man who had asked questions from him. The man stormed and punched against Theo's face. Others were quickly upon him and dragged the man out of the room.

Theo heard some heated argument but things were said too quietly for him to understand the words. Only couple of times he heard bastardo and egli è morto but that was all. During that time he had tried to free himself but without a luck.

Two men entered the room again. There was something familiar in one of the man. Almost like Theo knew him.

"You angered the wrong man cane! Now you will face the consequences! This man here will make you talk!" the man who said that smiled with disgust. Turning around he left the room and closed the door. Silence took ground. Theo looked at the torturer and the torturer looked at Theo.

Suddenly the torturer started to talk...

"When I heard the name of the prisoner I just couldn't believe it! I know only one man with that name. Only one man had a drunk enough father to give this name to his son. Don't you recognize me, Theophylaktos Petzeas" said the man with a smile.

"Georgi? Is that really you? You little son of a .. What are you doing here?" asked Theo with a cheerful voice.

"I thought that being a mercenary is too risky so I took this job instead. Have to say that the Venetians like to play a lot to a man in my position, to a torturer!"

"Venetians you say? What do they want from me? I'm just a Knight of the..."

"Correction. You are just a Sergeant!" said Georgi and started to laugh.

"Yeah.. yeah! Laugh as much as you want! By the way.. Could you untie me? Or you can't help an old friend?"

"Oh.. sorry about that! Here you go." Gregori untied Theo who stood up.

"Now. Could you tell me what the hell is going on? I really should notify the Varangians!"

"Varangians? Here in Venezia? I didn't know that you can find them here too?" said Gregori with a raised eyebrows.

"Venezia? How did I got here? Oh.. and what did they meant with that letter?"

"Sry.. I don't know exactly but I'll tell you what I know. You were drugged and they brought you here in one of their ships. It's been almost a week from the day when you were kidnapped. About the letter. I shouldn't know this but... in that letter there were written everything about the Byzantine defenses, about how two mayor Houses are rivaling between each other, about how Cesar wanted to start a civil war, about how defenseless is the Empires western half. And now one of the copies of that letter is missing. They think that one of the House leaders have it but they are not sure who."

Theo looked stunned...

"To be honest.. I did not expect .. that! And did they really know that a Kni.. Sergeant of the Order would know something like that? But still.. I don't understand why this letter is so important?"

"Because it was written to the Dodge of Venezia and to the... Pope." said Gregori.

"To the Pope? So he is part of this? No wonder that this letter was important! By the way could you help me out of this place?"

"Have to say that I already started to hate them bossing me around. So, if you have an open place ae one of your bodyguards then I would happily join you." said Gregori with a large smile.

"If you can get me out of this place I'll consider you as a brother!" answered Theo.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Couple of hours later, outside of Venice, two men were riding east. It would take some time before they get to the Empires holdings. But they have to make it. A big war was approaching. War that could end all wars...

Smowz

09-20-2008, 07:36

It had been a nervous few days for Nevoulas ek Philadelphius, whilst waiting for the long election process he had taken it upon himself to read through the administrative functions of the empire and also taken a great deal of time to study parchments of various details of the finances of logistics of the empire.

However in recent hours his studies had stopped, something else was on his mind and for once it was not his brother.

Then, why did he find himself down in the dungeons of the Asteri quarters of the Capitol now facing his brothers cell as he slept. The truth was he still found comfort in the fact he had found a member of his family.

He was concerned at first that Maka may seek to take his own life, but it seemed something had held him back from his threats. Indeed in recent times they had talked freely of their youth, back when there was no responsibilities, no pressures at all. Now here sat Nevoulas hoping to take the greatest responsibility of all.

But for all the encouragement or the voting patterns at the start of the election, Nevoulas knew celebration was premature. In reality all hinged on the votes of the Basilues. Aleksios Komnenus was a wily old man who had run the empire quietly with careful consideration, he was not a man one could predict easily and this was why running against his son was always going to be difficult and somewhat of a long shot.

His brother stirred in sleep, Nevoulas wondered what he could be dreaming of, his bodygaurds had talked of Makadonias asking questions of current affairs events and he could only wonder what he had made of all this. He had not talked of this to his sibling, he knew it would be greeted with yet more contempt and that he could do without.

His bodygaurd approached, his face a mask, there was nothing he could tell from there the soldier was well trained at least. He reads the parchment that has been handed to him and the truth is revealed - the Basilues has backed his son Ioannis' application for Megas.

Nevoulas smiled as he looked up at his bodyguard.

So, it looks as if my gamble has not paid off I shall not be needing all this after all

Nevoulas motions to the paperwork.

That is unless....

Nevoulas suddenly rises with some urgency. Turns to his guard and says:

I will be some time, I need to run some errands, be sure once more my brother is looked after.

Patting his faithful bodyguard on his soldier, Nevoulas leaves, walking quickly and breaking out into a trot up the stairs.

Smowz

09-20-2008, 10:44

It had been a busy few hours and now Nevoulas ek Philadelphius rushed back to check on the current situation in the Magneura.

He rushed up the steps, and then halted before he let himself in, he knew that the Komnenus family may well be waiting having made their decisive votes to announce the winner of the contest. Nevoulas knew that he needed to compose himself and take a victory like a man.

As Nevoulas straightened his suit and walked in he caught a glimpse of a man exiting the main hall into the Orders private sanctum. Initially thinking nothing off it, he waltzed over to his retinue. Once again the Magnuara seemed strangely quiet of life, Nevoulas wondered again about the Moors and the damage they were causing to the senetorial session.

Isakkos my sage, has the Caeser, his house and family voted yet.

Nevoulas' long time keeper of administrative affairs looked up from his notes with a broad grin on his face .

My lord it seems you have gained yet more votes.

Nevoulas sat down beside the old man, perhaps he has miscounted, but no there as clear as day Nevoulas' count had not gone up one but two more votes. But which two men was their left in the city to vote for him.

Armatos ek Naksou, Nevoulas exclaimed as he clenched his fists in delight.

Isakkos looked at Nevoulas.

Isakkos, the estranged new leader of the Order of St.John has made it back after all.

Nevoulas resisted to urge to let out a whoop of delight, he knew that there was still enough senators to turn the vote yet. He looked at his watch and decided it was high time he started trawling through the books of the economies of the empire. Nevoulas had grown to like the idea of becoming Megas and it seemed more and more likely that he may just realize that dream.

Smowz

09-27-2008, 21:47

On the road to Smyrna 1142

With the exception of the night watch there was but two men awake at this hour, the worker and his watcher.

The administrative duties of the Megas would tire and frustrate most men, but for Nevoulas ek Philadelphius it enthralled him and gave him purpose. He attacked each issue with vigour, only this morning a third letter had arrived from outposts in the far east with a request for a larger garrison.

The watcher was fascinated by the workers purpose, it was filling him with pride that he thought long since vanished. Nevoulas journey from a young lad, to quiet, reluctant senator to leader of an army to this the Megas has been quite a story. He longed to go over and help but alas he was in fact chained here, a prisoner of sorts. Now it made him think of his own journey and it immediately sank that pride away and filled him with shame. For he was Nevoulas' older brother, Makedonias traitor and murderer of countless Romans. He put his head into his arms hoping they would swallow him.

Nevoulas looked up at the rattle of chains in the corner, thats right his brother was still here, watching him as he had grown accustomed to doing over the past months. It is almost time for him to start his journey, Nevoulas thought, he hoped his brother would find redemption in his plans. He decided to stop for a moment and go over to him.

Over the past few months, Nevoulas following his election had noticed changes in his brother, his loyalty to the Islams had faded and he would now speak freely to Nevoulas and his bodyguard. As he reached his brother he noticed his face was full of tears, he put his arm on his shoulder and was surprised and his brother hugged him forcefully and now wept freely.

Nevoulas Makedonias exclaimed What have I done, how can I live myself here and what will become of me after death.

Maka, I went to Trebizond all that time ago, in truth those men there were less of me then perhaps even the Turks. They greed and incompetence led you down a dark path, I hope to give you chance of redemption. Nevoulas responded.

Redemption Maka questioned...

Suddenly there was a commotion outside, and suddenly a dark skinned man burst through the door carrying a dagger blade.

Nevoulas darted for cover beneath his desk, but the man turned towards Maka. Nevoulas suddenly realised his brother was chained to his chair in the corner. Nevoulas quick kumped on his table and leaped at the attacker as he plunged his dagger into Makadonias side, screaming for help from his guards.

Nevoulas fell backward ripping the invaders blade out of the fiends grasp before he could do further damage as men rushed in to the tent.

As his guards rushed in the man managed to wrestle the dagger back into his control and to everyones surprise stabbed himself firmly through his throat killing himself instantly.

Nevoulas turned to his brother slumped over his chair. No, thought Nevoulas, not now just as I have him back. The wound was deep, and Maka looked on Nevoulas now.

I guess I find out now how forgiving our god is... Maka gasped.

Nevoulas could see his brother was fading as medics rushed in to help, but he recognized they work, they looked as if they could fix this. Turning to his brothers would be killer.

He screamed Who is this man, what was is issue with Maka....

Suddenly Maka pushed off his medic

Brother...

Nevoulas rushed over...

That Nevo is what you call a Moor.

With that, Maka slipped into unconsciousness as the medics continued to see to his wound.

Smowz

09-29-2008, 19:36

On a hill near Athens 1146

Makadonios ek Philadelphius had not seen his brother since crossing the Aegean Sea. It had been an emotional journey for him, the closest that he had been to his birthplace, since he had left all that time ago. His thoughts had been on the Moorish attempt on his life, he knew all too well what they were worried about. Makadonios had learned much during his time in the Seljuk army, including the levels of collusion between the great powers of Islam. He knew more of the Moors then most in these parts and he suspected his brother knew this and perhaps that would be his last act to reveal his secrets before his unavoidable execution.

He was now being led on a strangely familiar uphill path lost in his thoughts of the past and as the edged toward the summit of the climb, he recognized where it was that he had been taken. This was a place where he and Nevoulas came countless times as children from here you could see the lands all around and they would often spy the traffic going from Athens to the Castle at Corinth. He fondly recalled these days, wondrous hours whiled away before the terrible black cloud of his armed days in service of initially the corrupt Roman corps and then the Seljuk horde. At the finest viewpoint he could see his brother Nevoulas ek Philadelphius awaiting back turned to him.

Maka, come your time for retribution has come. Nevoulas called out.

Steeling himself Makadonias shuffled forwards.

Halt. Nevoulas suddenly shouted still facing away from Makadonios. Guards release his foot chains.

This was duly done, if this had been a few months previous Makadonios would have instantly attempted escape. But now he realized there was nowhere to go, indeed nowhere else he wished to go, he was prepared to face his death well.

Striding forward he stopped some metres short of his brother.

Lord Megas Makadonias awkwardly said and went to one knee.

Makadonias, I must soon depart for the Capital. As you know the Emperor is dead and as such I must travel to pay my respects. In addition there will no doubt be some issues with the ascension, I will need to stay for whatever coronation follows. Before I go, this seems a fitting time for us to conclude this. I will offer you a choice.

I have made my choice my brother. Makadonios cut in. I will meet my death with honour whatever you wish to know of the Moors I will tell it.

Nevoulas smiled, resisting the urge to chuckle. Maka still believes us barbarians, even now after living among us for some months. I guess the chains and living amongst the enemy can do that. He walks forwards and unlocks the chains that bind his hands.

Maka, it is not necessary for you to die, while it is true that many Romans are dead at the hand of your sword everyone in this empire is given a second chance and so it shall be with you.

Look my brother at the lands around us, these belong to the House of Asteri, you may join in the harvest return to our cousins and old friends and help in a low level capacity.

Makadonios looked stunned. My brother I would love to...

However I do have another option, one that I dearly hope you will take up. I made a promise when I took up this position as Megas to the late emperor. This was not a promise that he compelled me to take or one that he even requested, still it is one that now upon his death more than ever I intend to keep.

With our most finest commanders chasing the Fatamids and the Seljuks into the east, the Moors continue to sit smugly far away in the west. I do not care of the near impossible logistics of the task I will bring the fight and fear to them on their lands, with the ultimate goal of their sultans head to return some day riding into the streets of Constantinople. I wish you Makadonios to come with me on this quest and serve as part of my bodyguard.

Makadonios looked thoughtful and met his brothers eye.

Brother I have seen much killing, more than my lifetimes fill....

Nevoulas cut in... Maka i stood here and watched you and father ride away and a returned here daily to watch for your triumphant return. Only you never came back... instead I travel continents to find you only to be enslaved and humiliated. By some miracle I managed to escape... I know you arranged my escape and that is why I have given you the chance to redeem yourself here. I will understand if you wish to stay here as a farmer, but I hope you use the oppurtunity I have given you to take the time in my absence to train and prepare for my no our quest.

Maka still stood stunned. This was his chance to finally redeem himself, he looked around Nevoulas' now familiar bodyguard nodded approvingly.

My brother I will do it, I shall help you lead a vicious attack on the Moors.

AussieGiant

09-30-2008, 17:55

Constantinople 1144

Apionnas walked slowly from the death bed of his late master. Basileus Aleksios Komnenus had passed away peacefully with no sign of foul play. That was the last dying duty and the wish of his Godfather. At least he could confirm that to his new master and remove any doubt about succession.

Taking a small package wrapped in thick paper covered in wax he withdrew to a small chamber where Ioannis Komnenus stood in solemn silence with his trusted man Pavlos Chrysovergos.

Apionnas walked directly toward the new Basileus, knelt, held up the package and paper laying on top of it and finally spoke;

"My Lord Basileus,

I, Apionnas Vringas, gave my eternal service and life to your father, his family and the position of Basileus of Byzantium. I wish to state at this time that your father has died with no sign of foul play or evil intent. I now pass this solemn oath onto to you and your family.

The papers here are a collection of all the work I have conducted on behalf of your father over the last decade. In addition, there is his "Will" in which he included me."

While Apionnas waits for the new Basileus to react he glances briefly towards Pavlos to gauge his reaction. He could never work the man out and his rise to prominence was now going to be accelerated dramatically. His opinion and thoughts would have to be factored into most things from now on.

Pavlos was staring rigidly ahead, arms folded behind his back he seemed almost unaware of the proceedings in front of him. As Apionnas speaks he glances at him briefly then at the papers that are handed over to Ioannis. His face is as always set in a permanent scowl.

Taking Apionnas' hand, the new Basileus gently pulls him to his feet.

"Senator Apionnas, you have been most devoted to my father, and there is no one more that I would trust with the affairs of our family and that of my personal safety. I accept your oath most willingly."

Gesturing to Pavlos to come closer, he turned again to Apionnas.

"This is Pavlos Chrysovergos, my trusty second and faithful leader of the Komnenodoukai. He has shown his loyalty many times over, and you can fully confide in him. He will also be part of the Privy Council."

"My Lord Dux, it is a great honour to meet you finally. The House of Komnenodoukai will be a great asset in the years to come. With it's strength the reign of our Baselius will be well supported amongst the nobility."

Extending his hand in a warriors grip, Apionnas's blue eyes assess the man that will influence much in the coming years.

The small burly men had stepped forward at the signal.

"Comes Apionnas Vringas! You are a loyal man, I respect you for that. The Basileus trusts you and so will I. The Komnenodoukai will continue to serve the line of Aleksios."

He grips the other mans arm firmly and watches him with a steady gaze.

The grip was vice like in its strength. Excellent thought Apionnas. The steel in this man would be needed in the years to come.

Breaking both hand shake and eye contact each man seemed satisfied with the other. Apionnas turns back to his new master, an intense look in his eyes.

"My Lord, I believe we need to move as quickly as possible to have your coronation completed by the Patriarch.

Then we must move to address oath swearing in the Magnaura as a formality. This should include all House Leaders AND unaligned senators. Once that is completed we need to deal with a quick solution with Constantinople's ownership and Vissa.

The unknown noble your father willed the Capital must be identified immediately and his loyalty confirmed via public oath. Once that is done then some "arrangements" will need to be agreed upon."

Nodding, Ioannis buckles on his sword.

"We must make haste to the Patriarch's office. The sooner all the arrangements are concluded the better."

Co-op with Igno and Ituralde

GeneralHankerchief

09-30-2008, 23:14

Co-op between myself, Ignoramus, and AussieGiant with a tip of the hat to OverKnight for the will.

Constantinople, 1146
The Hagia Sophia

The giant domed cathedral in the heart of Constantinople was packed to the brim with Senators, soldiers, foreign dignitaries, religious figures, and the like, a fitting way to mark the ascendancy of Ioannis Komnenos to the throne of the most powerful country in the world. Not only were representatives from every corner of the Empire there to witness the event, but those from the entire world - even the lands which were not under Byzantine control and were at war with the Greeks, for the Hagia Sophia had been built in another age, the time of Byzantine glory. Stone from Syria, Egypt, Thessaly, and even Rome made up the massive church. Even one of the ancient Seven Wonders would witness this moment, as columns from the long-gone Temple of Artemis were present. This was all to Ioannis's liking, of course. Let the entirety of the world and even time itself pause to pay tribute to him on his day.

Ioannis had spared no expense for this moment, having the finest musicians from the Empire converge and serenade the crowd, the finest chefs serve a massive meal after the coronation was completed, and the finest artists take their places throughout the cathedral to paint a variety of perspectives of the glorious event. A larger-than-life mosaic of the soon-to-be Basileus in regal attire, seated beside the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/12/Byzantinischer_Mosaizist_um_1118_001.jpg) adorned one of the far walls. The man himself, attired in full ceremonial robes on a golden throne in one of the Hagia's apses, sat, taking everything in.

To his immediate right, the Patriarch of Constantinople, Nicholas III, stood, slightly hunched over. The Patriarch had outlived his old rival Alexios, but not by much, if Ioannis was to take a guess. His long beard had turned white and he was turning pale, creating a stark contrast with his black robes. Out in front of him was the crowd: well-dressed, standing, and observant. The exact placement of persons in the crowd, like the rest of the ceremony, had been fastidiously planned. In the front rows were members of Ioannis's inner circle, his close relatives, and the dignitaries whose position demanded it. Farther back were the lesser Senators, most high-ranking members of the clergy, and less personal friends. Almost mingled in with the crowd were particular Senators that Ioannis had issue with and the lesser dignitaries. To Ioannis's immediate left stood his wife, who had already been crowned Empress, and the executor of Alexios's will, who had just finished speaking and was preparing to head back into the crowd. The previous ceremony was just a formality, of course, for Alexios's will had been made public some days before and Ioannis had already redistributed certain titles. The Varangian Guard, armor polished thrice over, had a commanding presence, flanking the main stage and its entrances. Finally, Ioannis mused, the endless preliminaries were over. Now came the moment why everyone was here.

The figure of Apionnas Vringas detached itself from the group of nobles surrounded by the imposing Varangians. Those standing in the front rows could see the heavy circlet of gold hanging from his neck signifying him as the new Lord High Chancellor of the Basileus. The ripple of murmuring voices passed this piece of information quickly to those standing at the back of the massive Cathedral, those who were not in the know about the information.

Apionnas bowed his head in acknowledgment after making eye contact with the Royal Princess Anna, her husband, and Methodios Tagaris, the new Caesar. Taking the dais summit in measured strides the hall became silent once he turned to address the gathered nobles.

"Lords of the Realm," he began,

"You are all gathered here today to witness the coronation of our new Basileus and the selection of the new heir apparent and Caesar. Before our beloved Patriarch Nicholas III does this however I wish to say a few words.

"Our new ruler, Ioannis Komnenos the Second, Basileus of the Roman Empire, Vice-Regent of God on Earth, and former Megas Logothetes is about to guide us with his firm hand for the next several decades. I am sure we all know him well.

"It would be inaccurate to describe Ioannis Komnenos as anything other than a polarising figure.

"While this has been true for the most part, it is also true that with great responsibility comes a great sense of duty and from this great men rise to the occasion.

"It is this very characteristic that will hold us in good stead for the future. Ioannis Komnenos has been born to rule and having known his father, the late Basileus Aleksios Komnenos, I know that this family has the capacity and strength to guide us into the next age of our Empire.

"While men may disagree it is the Basileus that rules us all. It is our duty and our honour to serve our Basileus until we die, for bickering and internal strife will do nothing but eat this Empire from within. Our enemies will have to do nothing but stand and watch us rot from our own venom and bile.

"So I ask you, the assembled noblemen of this glorious Empire, unite together, for with a new Basileus comes a new age and a renewed chance at glory.

"The Basileus is dead! Long live the Basileus!"

"The Basileus is dead! Long live the Basileus!" the crowd responded. As Apionnas stepped down, his heavy circlet of gold gleaming, a great wave of applause went up among the crowd, cheering Ioannis's ascendancy. Clearly pleased by this reaction, Ioannis grinned and shot a look at Apionnas, who returned it and resumed his place next to Pavlos Chrysovergos.

The cheering slowly died down as the crowd waited to see what would happen next. As they saw Patriarch Nicholas III slowly making his way to center stage, the noise built up into a crescendo, saluting the leader of Orthodoxy for the past decades. The Patriarch, whose appearances had always been infrequent, had shut himself away from the world even more over the past few years, only presiding at the Hagia on the most important of occasions. The cheering went on for some time, but the Patriarch soon raised his hands for silence and the crowd abided.

"Stability," he said in a thin, weak voice, and then cleared his throat.

"Stability," he said again, this time stronger, "stability is a blessing which we should all recognize and be thankful for."

The crowd was deathly quiet. The Patriarch's voice, while having been easier to hear after he cleared his throat, was still thin.

"Without stability, there is anarchy and chaos. Without stability, people fend for themselves, forgetting all that is good and light in the world. Aside from a few bastions of faith, most will feel the Lord's loving touch as foreign and flee for it, instead preparing to increase their temporal welfare in times of trouble at the cost of their eternal place in heaven.

"This example has been seen time and time again throughout history," said the Patriarch, pausing for a moment to gaze out into the nave of the monumental, glimmering structure that he had called his seat for longer than he cared to remember. "The greatest was at the close of Christ's time on earth. Until then, those who had followed him had been a mass of disorganized fellows who were easily conquered by their enemies. And then, as recorded in the Book of Matthew, Chapter 16, Jesus told Peter: 'Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church', and thus Peter became the first Pope and organized Christianity was born. Stability, in other words, was established, and as a result it allowed the fledgling religion to spread and become dominant throughout the world. Millions of souls have been saved because of stability.

"Those of you old enough to remember life before the previous Basileus may relate to what I am talking about," the Patriarch said. "Rulers changed with the seasons, and those that were not captured by the heathen enemy were assassinated, or deposed, or were simply too ineffective to be of note." The crowd, especially the aged members, pondered this.

"The Komnenian Dynasty has been established, though, and praise God, for it has been a stable one indeed," the Patriarch continued, his voice dropping a level. "Here, we have processes in which we can all agree upon. Here, we have checks and consensus. Here, we have the security to worship the One True Lord and not be executed for heresy by some foreign ruler. Here indeed, we have a Godly society, and we have the Komnenian Dynasty to thank for that. May its reign and its commitment to the Lord continue forevermore. Thank you." The Patriarch ambled back to Ioannis's right in a fit of coughing as the crowd cheered, picking up an ornately decorated box as the Basileus rose to address the crowd.

It was an awesome sight to behold. Ioannis, in his full glory, stood at the front of a huge and important crowd at the largest cathedral in the world, his arms outstretched, taking everything in. He let the applause and the "Long live the Basileus!" chants go on for a good while, savoring the moment. For Ioannis Komnenos, this was forever. After decades of waiting, fighting, taking abuse in the Magnaura and having to work in private, his moment had arrived. Although he had yet to be crowned, he was now Basileus, and he was very much enjoying the feeling of being so. Finally, though, he made the motion that he was about to speak, and the crowd slowly died down.

"My father was a noble man," he began. "He ended the inept leadership of the empire, and returned our failing state to her former glory.

"As the second Basileus in the Komnenoi dynasty, I will continue in the same mold as my father. I will expect absolute loyalty from my nobles, and I will give of myself absolute selfless devotion to the needs of the empire.

"For those of you even thinking of plotting a coup - forget it. You have seen the chaos before my father's reign, where the title of Basileus was changed at the whim of a select group of nobles.

"I will bring structural reorganistion to the empire, mainly in the area of defensive responsibilities.

"Finally, I will bring back the Roman empire to her former glory and the opulence of Rome will be ours once more!"

It was done. The crowd was back to cheering, Ioannis once again surveying them all. He thought he saw some not-too-happy faces among the "difficult" Senators farther back, but paid them no mind. They were nothing. Now there was one thing left to do.

The Patriarch was now back at center stage, carrying the ornately decorated box. It was open, and the Basileus, the open part of the box facing him, gazed. It was the crown, the crown in all of its shimmering glory. Already resized to fit him, it was just waiting to be placed on his head. For Ioannis Komnenos, it was finally here.

The Patriarch now had the crown out of the box, was now standing right beside the Basileus. Ioannis noticed a slightly pained look on his face, interpreting it as internal conflict. Nicholas had never been a fan and was now probably regretting the deal he had made with Alexios those years ago. Never mind him, he was an old man. If he tried anything, those Varangians would be all over him. Besides, who would dare challenge Ioannis's right to rule? Look at the ceremony, after all - the cheering crowd, the opulent cathedral. He had all the legitimacy in the world right here.

It must have been something else, though, as all proceeded to plan.

"By the power vested in me as... Patriarch of Constantinople..." Nicholas began, "I hereby crown you... Basileus... of the Roman..."

He slipped and fell, hitting the cold floor hard. Out of pure reflex, the Patriarch had managed to slip the crown over Ioannis's head before he went down, or maybe it was as he was going down; the timing was too close for anybody to determine. In any case, there was to be no argument about it: Nicholas III had gone through with his duty and fulfilled his end of the bargain forged with Alexios Komnenos many years ago.

Over the crowd's singular, horrible gasp, Ioannis leaned in close.

"...Empire..." the Patriarch managed to mumble, and died.

The reign of Ioannis Komnenos II, Basileus of the Roman Empire, had begun.

OverKnight

10-03-2008, 00:40

Constantinople, 1146

The Basileus was dying, Tiverios could see that as soon as he was summoned into the Imperial bedchamber. A wasting disease had taken Aleksios, and the once hale man was reduced to an invalid, yellow flesh stretched over frail bones. It was a disturbing sight, for Aleksios was the only ruler Tiverios had ever known. The Basileus had always been there, taking him into his service, promoting his career, and keeping a steady hand on the Throne. His death would bring forth a new, uncertain future, not only for Tiverios, but for the entire Empire.

Calming himself, the young Senator approarched the bed. Aleksios looked up, his gaze still searching and intelligent as ever despite the betrayal of his body. Even in illness, the Basileus was proped up by pillows and perusing papers.

"Ah, Tiverios," the Basileus said, his voice a whisper, "Please have a seat, there is much we have to discuss."

Bowing, Tiverios took a seat at the head of the bed. No doubt the Basileus had been seeing many people.

"You have served me well these past years. Yet I must ask a favor of you."

Tiverios nodded, "Anything your Majesty, I owe you my position, I am at your service."

It was true, Tiverios's father had died in one of the many campaigns to restore the Empire, though he did not remember him. A fatherless son from a minor family could not have expected much from life, but he had been raised in the capital by his mother. A pension had ensured a proper education and his mother had enough connections remaining at court to secure Tiverios a position. Somehow he had caught the eye of the Basileus, and for the past few years he had assumed much of the responsibility of administering Constantinople. He had even fought at the walls when the Basileus had destroyed the Moors.

Aleksios's reply broke his reverie, "Good, it is a delicate matter, when I am gone, I wish you to govern the capital."

Tiverios raised an eyebrow, "But your Majesty, the Caesar will expect to inherit Constantinople directly. He will be. . .disappointed, to put it mildly."

Aleksios waved his hand, "Yes, he will be, which is why it is a difficult thing to ask of you. You might suffer the ire of the new Basileus. Yet, I believe to be necessary."

Tiverios leaned in, "Why is that, my Lord?"

Aleksios sighed, "I have taken steps to ensure that Ioannis will have a smooth transition to the Throne. But once seated on it, I can guarantee nothing else. I will be dead, and I cannot control the future, much as I would like to. There still might be a civil war; By placing Constantinople outside the direct control of Ioannis, I hope to spare it from attack in such a case. Whatever else happens, I want the heart of the Empire preserved from internecine conflict."

The young Senator nodded, "Just so, but why me, your Majesty? There are others more experienced."

The gaze of the Basileus bored into him, "Why indeed? What do you think?"

Tiverios paused for a moment to think and then spoke, "I am familiar with the city. I have served you loyally. Most importantly, due to my youth and lack of status, I am unaligned with any of the factions at court. A more experienced or powerful man might already have divided loyalties, endangering the city in case of a civil war."

He left another possible reason unsaid.

Aleksios nodded, a trace of a smile on his face, "Very sharp of you, you'll need to be clever. By assigning you Constantinople I am giving you status and power. There is danger in that for you. You will have to tread carefully. I hope you have learned some of what I tried to teach you."

Tiverios grew thoughtful and drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair.

"I have learned a great deal, even more so today. . .your Majesty."

The Basileus nodded and spoke weakly, "Good, you're dismissed. Send in Apionnas if you would."

Tiverios stood, bowed and made his way to the door where he paused for a moment. Glancing back at the bed, he almost asked another question of the Basileus, but instead he opened the door and strode out of the room.

Ignoramus

10-10-2008, 04:14

Nicaea, 1149

The new Basileus and his family were gathered together in the palace in Nicaea.

"Ioannis, it is time you accompanied me on campaign." began his father, "You must prove yourself to the nobles that you are worthy to succeed me on my death."

His son looked puzzled, "But Father, Comes Methodios is now Caesar. The nobility would never abandon him as long as his long list of victories over the infidel continues."

"Ah, but you forget that Methodios is older than I am." responded his father, "In normal circumstances, he will die before me and then the nobility would have no excuse but to accept you as my successor. Now go and get yourself ready; I will be riding to the capital this afternoon and I will be taking you with me."

As Ioannis left the room, the Basileus turned to his other son, Sophronios and handed him a book.

"I've brought you Caesar's De Bello Gallico. It will help you with your Latin, and at the same time sharpen your mind concerning military matters."

"Thank you very much, Father. I shall start reading it at once."

As his younger son left the room, the Basileus embraced his wife and walked towards the stables.

Dafuge

10-12-2008, 10:53

Port of Thessalonike, 1150

Ferro stood next to the great trading ships in the port of Thessalonike. It was raining and the sky was black with constant cracks of thunder. Men hurried around in the distance, picking up crates of various products from all over the world. In front of Ferro stood his only son, Efthymios, small and weedy, but loved all the same. Recently he had been promoted to the rank of Senator, a fine position for him and ensured a better life for his family. His shoulder length black hair was soaked and clung to his skin, drowning out his face.

‘Son, promise to visit me soon,’ Ferro shouted over the boom of thunder and waves.
‘Father, I will come as soon as my military and political matters have been sorted in Alexandria,’ Efthymios exclaimed sternly. Ferro sighed, once again his son was been his formal self, trying to hide his emotions. Bloody typical of him, at a time like this, thought Ferro.

‘Tell me why you are going to Alexandria instead of staying here in Thessalonike? This city is perfect for you, not to far away from Constantinople and very profitable. Why not stay here awhile until you are set up. Then move to some exotic land to the south.’

‘I’m going to Alexandria father and that’s final,’ proclaimed Efthymios stiffly. ‘You know as well as I do why I am going Northern Egypt father. I am to become a Legate of the House Ilios Korakas and soon I will have my own city, just like this one and your doubts will be cast from your mind. Also you know I how I feel about fighting fellow Christians, which I am sure to do in Greece, no matter how pompous they are. I wish to fight the Muslims and spread the true word.’

His father sighed again, once more wishing that he hadn’t given his son works of Caesar to study. From a small age Efthymios had become obsessed with military writings and his heroes consisted of Romans and Greeks such as Scipio and Alexander. He had a burning desire to become a mighty general like them, and fight for his country. The only problem was that his poor intellectual capacity for anything other than reading and logistics meant he never had the right flair or imagination to be educated in a military school. Thus he had a small knowledge of military matters but he had a lot to learn, including how to kill a man.

A shout came from across the dock for Efthymios; he quickly turned to his father and gripped him in a fierce hug.

‘Goodbye father, we will see each other soon,’ and before Ferro could reply Efthymios was off, onto the ship in a flash and sailing away to some distant land. Ferro ran his wrinkled hands through his white hair. He sighed for a final time a turned his back on the dock, slowly walking back up to his carriage to take him back to Thessalonike. As he reached there he climbed into the back and told the driver to take him home. He gave a curt reply and lashed his horses. At once they were off, at a slow trollop down the muddy road.

With the hour or so of uncomfortable bumping until they reached the main city, Ferro had time to reflect on his past. He had shoved it aside for the twenty years he spent raising his son but now with him gone, there was only himself to look after. 42 years had gone by since that dreadful event in Cairo, when Ferro had to flee the great city with the mighty general Vissarionas ek Lesvou.

Back then he was young, a meagre eighteen years old, but already a retainer of the promising Senator. He had escaped, barely, with his life. Once giving his report to the appropriate Senators and the like, he resigned from his job and moved into Greece with a small fortune. Quickly buying all the available land he was free to live his life how he wished. He fell in love with a woman and they lived happily for many years with only one burden. This been her trouble with producing offspring as many died during infancy or whilst still in her womb. She finally gave birth to Efthymios prematurely to Ferro’s great delight. But then to his horror worse news came, his wife, Helen, had died during labour. He had got his final wish, with great expense. Once Efthymios had lived past his first years Ferro began to indulge him, desperately trying to make God and Mary forgive him. He had lived the rest of his life happily.

Now his son, Efthymios, was returning to Egypt, where his father all those long years ago had seen such terrible things. Now he was going to return the favour, to beat back the Fatimid dogs to their last province, and their most holy one. Mecca. There he and other noble Senators of the Byzantine Empire would destroy any last resemblance that Egyptians had tried to rule what was rightfully Roman.

With that last thought Ferro succumbed to tiredness and fell into his bed, having already returned to his home. He was smiling while he slept; making an eerie site for the maids and servants, but all the same Ferro knew a storm was coming, and he was happy!

Written with permission of Ramses II

Smowz

10-13-2008, 21:44

Athens 1150

He sat across the table listening intently to the messenger, it was not what he wanted to hear. Summoning up all his patience he waited whilst the man went through other trivialities and gave the man his expenses.

As soon as the man left the building Nevoulas ek Philadelphius walked up to a nearby vase, calmly picked it up and hurled it across the room and watched as it smashed into smithereens.

Behind him came a slow hand clap, Nevoulas did not need to turn to know it was his brother Makedonios.

Nevo if only you could take on the Muslim hordes with the Athenian porcelain at your disposal. Crowed Maka.

Nevoulas turned angrily, about to remind his brother of his place and to call him by an appropriate title. But upon seeing his brothers chirpy face, he reminded himself that things were not so bad. He was having to remind himself of this fact too often in these latter years of his term as Megas, the news from the outlying towns was the tip of the iceberg.

Upon seeing his illustrious brother's glum face Maka's face also turned serious.

More bad news from the East? he enquired.

It would seem your former overlords have been regrouping out in the East. They are bringing hordes of horses with them. The eastern push is in danger of stagnating and if these latest reports are true some of our best men are in severe danger.

Maka pondered his next words carefully.

I am sorry my brother I do not know much of this latest Sultan, he was most adament to push most of us outsiders close to the Eastern extremes, this is how I ended up fighting for the Egyptians.

Nevoulas eyed his brother, this was the first time in years, Makadonios had mentioned anything of this dark time in his life as a virtual Mamluk. He waited as Maka looked away for him to continue.

It was almost as if he knew that the Seljuk hold on Anatolia was weakening, I heard rumours of lavish buildings in Baghdad. Those were strange times. Maka wiped a tear from his face.

Nevoulas went to put his arm on his brothers shoulder, but Maka suddenly straightened.

But onto the present, I come to report that finally the extra ships from the south have arrived. After the embarrassing logistical display of a year ago we can soon be ready to set sail.

Nevoulas smiled at that, indeed it was a farcical display as they had set sail the first time with too many munitions and troops for the vessels to support them. After three horrific and painfully slow months at sea they came back the Athens. It would be good to go on this campaign, he really could not wait for the adventure if truth be told.

Yes, once my megas term ends, we will have that to occupy our thoughts my brother. Lets go to the docks now and have a look at the fine vessels myself.

Northnovas

10-14-2008, 20:42

Constantinople 1150

Aleksios left the building site of the new city walls and headed to the Tamagata House to meet a man who had been a part of the retinue of the late Emperor Aleksios. This man he was meeting was a veteran of the Emperor’s Army and had now been assigned to Aleksios.

Aleksios rode from the building site in a coach, thinking it had been sometime since he rode a horse. He was a builder and his buildings and civil plans were in various government locations in the Empire. He came to Constantinople to defend it against the Moors and ended up designing the capital’s defences with the new walls. Why would the Basileus assign a soldier to him? He thought back to his early days in the creation of his House to defend the Basileus and the Empire but his campaigns were next to nil. He ended up designing structures by commissions and what can this soldier do for him now.

The coach pulled up to the House and Aleksios aide was waiting for him and assisted him to the door.

“Master, the gentlemen from the Royal Army is here and is waiting in the Hall. He seems to be a decent fellow I have prepared your afternoon refreshments”. Aleksios acknowledged his aide and comment. He immediately entered the hall.

A small meal and wine had been prepared the guest was already indulging himself. The striking figure rose from his seat and greeted Aleksios.

“Antipatos Aleksios, it is an honour to meet you finally! I have been looking forward to meeting you and have concluded my personal business and I am at your service”. The soldier made a formal bow. Aleksios was already impressed with this character.
“I am Kostaki, soldier of the Royal Army, from the Corinth Region and now in your service as decreed by the late Basileus Aleksios.”

“Corinth!?” mused Aleksios. “No finer of a region for a soldier to come from; some of the best are coming from there now. What I can’t figure is how you were assigned to me I need an engineer not a well trained soldier?” The two sat to eat and continued the conversation.

“My lord, men in this Empire are known for their campaigning then their civic contributions. Maybe the late Aleksios is telling you it is time to get away from the cities and make a name for yourself. The men that can defeat our enemies and capture their cities are the men obtaining influence and wealth……………..”

Aleksios reflected back to his campaigning and smashing the Rebel Army and the rush of the battle and glorious victory he felt. However, the feeling was short lived on his return to Durazzo and seeing the place in squalor and reorganizing the city to improve the living conditions and that brought another euphoria. He wasn't sure what was greater? His attention wondered back to his guest.

“………. I will assist you my lord and bring you up to the level of the other generals. You have the organizational skills that can be applied to the battlefield.” Kostaki had realized he was losing his new master’s attention and was praying that if he was not campaign that he would release him from his services. The thought of remaining in the city did not appeal to the veteran soldier.

The two men sat awhile in silence and ate their meal.

Aleksios took a deep drink and finished his goblet of wine. Looking at the veteran soldier for a moment he made his decision.

“Kostaki, we ride! I don’t know where the hell too but we leave this week!” The soldier let out a sigh of relief. “My business is done here and I should return to Corinth. The Army has been sitting to long the men have most likely forgotten how to fight. A good campaign is what we need but where?”

The veteran thought for a moment. “There are still Rebels in the Empire especially in the north. Why don’t we make our way to Corinth through the northern lands and destroy the Rebel Armies we find along the way. It will give the men some training before they meet a professional army of some enemy faction.”

“Excellent! Let make the arrangements and we ride out by weeks end.” Aleksios was not sure what he was getting into but it felt good to have a plan and be on the move. “More wine!
Kostaki let us celebrate this new collaboration and toast the Army of Corinth and too many victories.”

The two men feasted with other guest of the House long into the night.

Cecil XIX

10-15-2008, 03:15

Placeholder for Armatos' daring slaughter of the Turks outside Aleppo. :clown:

Ramses II CP

10-18-2008, 04:36

Near Medina, 1155.

The Senate was meeting. Vissarionas ek Lesvou once again would not attend, but that did not mean he had no unpleasant business awaiting him. Today, alas, he would have to tour the patch of dirt occupied by the ever present camp followers any army that ever marched inevitably collected. There was some sort of disturbance there, and there had been reports of stonings and strange rituals. The soldiers were disturbed, and since Vissa had never explained his own odd pronouncements to them some were starting to think this nonsense was at his behest. It was time to put a stop to that.

It would be a filthy business. The sweltering heat of the desert made everything living sweat, stink, and collect grime in a film. The lack of easy access to water also meant that already infrequent baths became nil, and these hangers-on had no discipline to dig decent 'honey holes' for their wastes.

No, instead they simply stamped out crude trenches beyond whatever scrap of fabric represented their tents for the moment and dumped anything they didn't want into them. Closer to the army, in the prized positions, there was some organization at least, some effort to keep a clear path, but Vissa's business would not allow him to remain at the edges today. Today he must penetrate to the depths, to the very heart, to discover what madness lay within.

He had ordered his guardsmen and the other troops to remain behind, and yet was well aware that some would shadow him, and some would already be present conducting whatever vile trade they had with the women of the camp. Women, of course, comprised the majority of the camp, though sundry other half-skilled laborers could be found as well. Unidentifiable meats hung from some strung up poles, while bundles of herbs hung from others. Anything that was banned from the army camp could be found in abundance, especially alchohol, but still mostly it was women.

Women of every size, shape, age, and state one could imagine. Some of them retained a battered, hectic sort of beauty, but the majority already had that used up look which generally came a few weeks before they fell behind in the march and were abandoned to their fates. The worst ones, the hardest to bear, were the ones with visible deformities, scars, or even fresh wounds. Vissa knew it was his men who did these things, knew that if he fought hard enough he could probably even catch some of them, but the army itself wouldn't survive spending it's time setting up trials over cruel treatment of whores, and the army had a larger purpose to serve. Vissa's purpose. The Empire and Order's purpose. God's purpose.

Still, deep inside him, it hurt Vissa when he passed a girl who couldn't have yet seen fifteen years but whose gaze from her one remaining eye was one of acknowleded indifference to her own suffering. A look which said, simply, 'I know only pain awaits me in life yet my path bears me ever onward to that fate and I cannot turn aside.' Sometimes the depth of God's cruelty still burned Vissa even as he fought to be the instrument of it's implementation.

Such thoughts held his mind while his feet unerringly guided Vissa to the place where he must resolve a threat to his army. Arriving near the back-center of the camp Vissarionas saw a zone where there were no smaller tents, just a crude design arranged from filth with a large, badly made, and yet oddly ostentatious, given the surroundings, throne had been set up under a sun shielding stretch of fabric. Astride this curious throne sat a bald man, nearly naked, with the tan skin of a northern Egyptian. He held a black twig about ten inches long with some sort of crystal tied to the end, and he was spouting off some gibberish in no language Vissa had ever heard. Around his waist a loincloth was tied, and tucked through it was a long, thin dagger.

Around him were twenty five or thirty camp followers, over half of them men, with patient, expectant looks on their faces. Vissa stood far enough back and to the side to keep from having to trod on the lines of filth or join the crowd. At last the bald man's air ran out and the stream of nonsense ended. Immediately he took a deep breath and launched into a diatribe in broken Greek, the gist of which was simply that evil had come among the faithful and had to be cut out before punishment descended on the whole camp. 'Well, punishment is here now,' Vissa thought absently before addressing the man aloud,

"What's the meaning of this?"

The bald man, no stranger to showmanship, executes a slow turn and pretends to just have become aware of Vissa's presence. He sketches an elaborate but shallow bow, as one might to an equal, before replying,

"A cleasing m'Lord! In God's name we have caught an iniquitous one and now prepare her end!"

With a crafty gleam he gestures the crowd to step back, revealing a woman buried, standing up, to her neck in sand. Her hair has been burned off, her eyes put out, her ears cut off, and likely she is dead already. Despite this Vissa feels a twinkling of rage in his gut, but effortlessly cuts it out of his voice,

"A sacrifice is it? An enemy to offer up to God? This is my way as well."

Just before the charlatan can speak again Vissa loudly cuts him off,

"May I join you?"

A certain tension dissolves in the air. The group around the bald man can sense that the proper obeisance has been made even if not quite on the terms their master had instructed them to expect. Their dead eyed gazes move off of Vissa and back to the bald man, who sagely nods his head and makes an inviting sweep of his arm.

Carefully avoiding the lines of garbage Vissa strides forward and without hesitation stands among the crowd, which shrinks aside deferentially and allows him a place at it's center, his feet mere inches from the buried woman. With no further ado the bald man throws his head back and gargles out some more gibberish, of a harsher tone. There's no mistaking the mood now, and the group becomes restless around Vissa, their gazes tearing from the capering naked man to the head protruding from the sand. Somehow each of them has found a stone, and no few begin to clench their hands spasmodically as the rough sounds from the bald man continue.

Once again he sucks a deep wind in after his flow of 'words' is cut off, but this time no pronouncement erupts. Instead, with a curious series of prancing, leaping moves, the magician dances foward while waving his wand about elaborately, each step bringing him indirectly nearer the woman in the sand and bringing the tension in the air a notch higher. At last, as he lurches forward to stand straddled nearly over the head, he raises his wand high in the air and looks directly into Vissa's eyes before speaking in a low tone,

"With this, Lord, together, we shall forge victory!"

Holding his gaze Vissa leans forward, preventing the bald man from lowering his wand, and whispers,

"You don't smell much like victory," before grasping the loincloth and lifting it with all his strength. Squealing, eyes wide with pain, the suddenly desperate magician drops his wand and tries to gasp out some command to the crowd around Vissa, but the general simply steps over the buried woman with the thin old man held half a foot in the air and turns about while twisting his grip on the tightly wound loincloth ever deeper.

Now, however, the bald man's fluttering hands have found his dagger, and he struggles to draw it from the binding cloth it is caught up in, cutting his own leg and pattering blood across the head of the buried woman, who abruptly opens her blood spattered mouth and screams as best a tongueless human being can before falling silent and slumping over. Vissa quickly lifts the man even higher and then slams his own forehead into the creature's jaw as he is released, shattering it and releasing a fresh flow of blood. The pagan magician, just now coming to realize how badly he has miscalculated his power, struggles once again to speak to his followers as he lies on the ground spitting out teeth.

Vissa, with the man's blood running down the scars on his forehead, smiles a tiny, effortless little smile at the pathetic crowd of camp followers, the dregs of humanity, with their collection of still deadly stones and... they turn their faces from him. One after the other those stones fall to the ground from unclenched fists.

That settled, Vissa turns his attention to the magician, who has managed at last to extract his dagger from his loincloth and is trying to find the strength to do something with it. With an easy grace Vissa kicks it out of his hand, breaking several of his fingers, and finding that motion quite satisfying then proceeds to kick the man again. And again. His steel shod boots shred flesh and rend bones. Bubbling, gurgling wails escape the magician for a few short moments before his awareness comes to an end, shortly followed by his life. For good measure Vissarionas draws his sword and destroys the absurd little throne and the poles holding the tent over it. On his way out he checks the buried woman, who is now unquestionably dead, and kicks through the lines of filth, destroying their pathetic symmetry. There is no trouble getting out of the camp and back to the army.

Back in his quarters Vissa turns his boots over to his serving man to be cleaned and retires to pray. In his prayers he begs God to let the coming slaughter of the Fatamids be enough, pleads with God to let there be an end to unceasing struggle, and goes to bed quaking with fear at what the next day may bring.

:egypt:

AussieGiant

10-20-2008, 11:36

Constantinople 1155

While the position of Lord High Chancellor held very few real powers it did have one. Complete oversight of all legal proceedings in the Empire, plus complete control of the Royal Legal Office.

Apionnas, flanked by his usual administrators and Guardsmen moved quickly to that very location. The look in his eyes made every door and every question mute to those that would impede his progress.

Throwing the doors of the office open with a bang, he slammed a large tome down on the benches of the most learned legal practitioners in the land.

"Gentlemen, your top priority is this!! I need an answer by the end of the day."

The arrogance of the response was clear to everyone in the room. Not a single lawyer had even raised their eyes to the man now standing before them.

Apionnas took a moment to assess the situation and quietly spoke again;

"My apologies, gentlemen and scholars of this Office. I seemed to have incorrectly worded that request.

I would like a response to this issue on my desk by the end of today, if that is not the case, then you'll all have to find employment elsewhere."

Turning he left the room without another word. The lone administrator left in the room, who's sole task was to take the legal deliberations to his master as soon as it was complete noted that no one in the room moved until the door banged shut.

As soon as it did all hell broke loose.

From the back of the room one young lawyer shouted.

"What are we? Marriage advisors!!??"

ULC

10-20-2008, 14:57

1155, Constantinople

Nikolaos stormed into his private chambers, a look of fury upon him, with Demetrios calmly following behind.

"What in gods name prompted that! Do you actually think before you act? Or has your training made you all reflex?!" Nikolaos threw himself into a chair, which promptly protested being forced to hold such weight.

Demetrios slide onto a table with feline grace, and ran his hand through his dark brown hair, his eyes aglitter with delight. "You take things to seriously Nikolaos, honestly, it's a wonder stress doesn't kill you. Do you always have to be drunk to be jolly?"

Nikolaos eyes flashed with anger. "You are my subject, what you say reflects upon me, whether or not you intend it so! Just because you have an opinion doesn't mean you should voice it so foolishly! I am banned now! A House leader banned from the Magnaura! The shame upon my House!" Nikolaos quickly grabbed a bottle of nearby wine and popped the cork.

Demetrios rolled his eyes. "Again, you act like it would be the end of the world. If your going to be this fatalistic, then the plan would never wor-" A quick glare from Nikolaos told Demetrios to silence himself. Muttering something under his breath, Demetrios walked over to Nikolaos's desk and picked up an apple seated upon a small stack of papers. Demetrios grinned like a cheshire cat. "Seems Chara has been by, she left you some love notes again." Nikolaos started and ran over to the desk to look at the papers as Demetrios glided to the side, nibbling away at the apple.

Nikolaos scanned the papers, and a smile lit over his face. "Alright, go see Apionnas. If what Chara says is true, then we may salvage something from this after all." Demetrios scoffed with a smile. "Salvage?! Oh come now Nikolaos, you know I made sure there was something to even begin dream of salvaging." With that Demetrios spun on his heels, and made his way out into the halls to see the one man who could actually listen, as well as speak.

TinCow

10-20-2008, 21:00

The Farmer And The Cranes

http://www.mikelockett.com/cp/we7/uploads/1000/The_Farmer_and_the_Stork.jpg

Some cranes made their feeding grounds on some plowlands newly sown with wheat.
For a long time the Farmer, brandishing an empty sling, chased them away by the terror he inspired; but when the birds found that the sling was only swung in the air, they ceased to take any notice of it and would not move. The Farmer, on seeing this, charged his sling with stones, and killed a great number. The remaining birds at once forsook his fields, crying to each other, "It is time for us to be off to Liliput: for this man is no longer content to scare us, but begins to show us in earnest what he can do."

If words suffice not, blows must follow.

-Aesop

flyd

10-24-2008, 02:38

In light of recent discussion, it might be of interest to hear the story of how Isaakios got his bride.

Constantinople, 1132

Isaakios sat at a table in the palace. The table was covered with food: beef, lamb, pork prepared in the various styles. He deeply engaged himself in eating as much as he could, along with drinking copious amounts of wine.

The List had come in. His father, Emperor Alexios, had compiled a list of 15 most politically useful potential brides. He ordered them in order of descending utility. The list sat on the table, and Isaakios would occasionally glance at it, frown, then continue stuffing himself with food and drinking more wine.

Number one on the list was Alexandra Doukas. She was a good-looking young lady, but a completely and fully intolerable person. Talking to her for more than half a minute would cause you to be overwhelmed by a desire to rip out your own hair and eat it. Number two was her cousin, Zoe Doukas, a fairly ugly woman with a gigantic nose. Number three was the first acceptable one, and in fact one of the best: Chryse Diogenis. She was beautiful, sweet, wise, and charming. She didn't come from a very influential part of her family, and it was certain that she had climbed to such a high place on the list by her own merit. #4 was decent, #5 not so good, #6 was so-so, #7, 8, and 9 were all good.

Andreas, Isaak's best friend, came in and asked what was happening. "The list came in," Isaak mumbled with a mouth full of food.

Andreas took a look. "Ouch. Ugh. Well, Three's not bad, Four's nice. I like Seven--"

"Yeah, yeah," Isaak interrupted, "but One and Two are in places one and two."

"Yes," Andreas said solemnly, "sorry buddy."

"Oh, don't worry, I have a perfect plan, it's---"

"Wait," Andreas interrupted. "Stop. Don't do it. It's a bad idea."

"But I didn't even tell you what it was yet."

"It's a bad, horrible idea. Just don't do it."

***

That evening, there was a party in the palace. Everyone was there: all the influential families in Constantinople, the royal family, and many of the Senators. Just before it started, Alexios told Isaak that #1 Alexandra Doukas had been chosen and agreed upon. He asked if there were any objections, but Isaak gave none knowing them to be largely futile. Presumably, this arrangement was to be announced tonight.

Going perfectly to plan, Isaak was sick. He had eaten too much and drank much wine, the intoxicating effect of which had already disappeared, leaving behind the hangover. There was much milling about as usual, but soon Isaak found himself with his father talking to #1 Alexandra and her father, Nikodemos Doukas, along with some other people.

They started off by chatting about minor economic things, but old Nikodemos could wait no more. Knowing the answer already, he asked the question anyway. "So, Alexios, when are you going to find a bride for this young lad here?"

"I have, in fact," Alex said, "accepted your proposal that he should be wed to your Alexandra."

"Wonderful!" Nikodemos exclaimed. "Isn't it just wonderful?"

"Yes, father," #1 Alexandra said, "I am most honored and prepared." What? What kind of a person would say that? What a b#$%&.

"Yes, of course," Isaak said and burped. "Oh, excuse me," he added and then tapped his stomach, which only made things worse. The mighty tempest brewing in his stomach was reaching a climax. "Most wonderful," he said as he took her by the hand and brought her a little closer when--

"Gasp!" said everyone.

#1 Alexandra was covered from the forehead to the knees in partially digested food. Isaak stood pale-faced with a look of shock and... surprise. "I'm sorry!" he said, "I'm sick!"

Various attendants quickly descended on #1 Alexandra and took her away. Nikodemos looked a little mad. "Are we still on?" Isaak asked him.

"Ha! I think not! You uncultured oaf!" he said and walked away.

Excellent. Isaak looked around but could not see #2 Zoe anywhere. No matter. "Damn," he said, "now I'm gonna have to marry Zoe the Elephant."

"Gasp!" said the audience again.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I'm sick!" Isaak screamed, pointing to his head. "I feel so bad. I'm sorry. I'll have to go lie down! Please excuse me!"

With that he turned for the exit, and caught a glimpse of his father, who stood stern-faced with the rage of a thousand Hispanian bulls dancing on his forehead. No matter, he'd get over it. Isaak maintained a look of horror and shock as he was leaving, but when he saw #3 Chryse trying to contain a laughter, he couldn't help but let slip a smile.

Smowz

10-26-2008, 00:21

Civil War - The Personal Diary of Nevoulas ek Philadelphius.

Constinantinople:

My head is a whirl. My emotions are up and down. I feel in my head, I have made the right moves. But alas, my heart is torn in two. There are a great many friends I have lost on the last few days, there is no going back. My smiles and confidence in the senate betrays a great sadness and sorrow at what I have said and done. I cannot keep all this locked up for I will go mad, perhaps that is the illness that we have suffered in recent months we have all gone quite mad!!!! I must write this down, the pen in this case may be greater than the sword.

My lords within the house of Asteri rightly feel that I talk out of turn, I should know my place. It is by Kalematros' side. His much loved sons are coming of age, what must they think of me their loving Uncle Nevoulas. I wish we had happier times, I remember the fun we used to have in Iconium, they were happy boys... and Zigavinos a man who has treated me well and proved a great ally in my times in charge of the administration. I fear I no longer have his respect either.

The grandmaster Armatos and my longtime friend his second Bart, their frowns will live with me the longest. I know now that I am unlikely to see them again until we likely meet on the battlefield, I dearly hope it will not come to that. When we were young men, I fondly recall exchanging correspondence with Bart on regular occasions.

Then there comes Tagaris himself, the conquerer, a hero among the people and my soldiers. I aspired to be like him a conquerer myself - extending our glorious empire on the battlefield against its enemies. It is he who I picture now enraged in Mecca with his young daughter and her suitor.

Tonight I drink to them, perhaps tomorrow I will return to the senate....

....later.....

There is no other option. The Caeser is a great man but he is not the Emperor.

Sea of Marmara: (on a merchents vessel)

How did it all come to this? Why was I compelled to declare war on a Roman hero?

Duty.

My duty is at first to the empire and to protect against its enemies. At one time, not so long ago when I was in office it was clear who those enemies were or was it? Come to think of it now it felt at times like I was a pivot with all the dignitaries of the empire pulling in every direction. Was it inevitable that it would collapse? Before I can think of the future I have to examine the past. So many have different ways of telling it, I can see the likes of Vringas and Theo even now going back and forth over it.

Duty was easy under Aleksios, it would surely be under leadership such as his that so many capable men would come out of the woodwork and work towards the common cause. Inspirational men like Ampules, Ksanthpoulas and the beloved Kosmas lived, breathed and died for him. There were grumblings for sure, but his steady hand guided us and molded us.

Then he died. By rights considering who ascended to the throne there should have been anarchy immediately. I recall when the news reached my desk I was tempted to sail back to Athens immediately - but whilst the news of the passing of one emperor fell away and another rose I guess the common cause of fighting the Fatamids and the Seljuks focussed senators minds elsewhere.

But the new emperor was determined to establish his control, he wanted absolution and respect as his father had once had. Respect that was in short supply, the contempt of many senators as they 'swore fealty' to him was all to evident. By rights many, me included should have been detained right there and then. But I guess, I was Megas - the politicians champion and Tagaris was Caeser - the peoples champion, the new emperor was fearful of his life in such a climate. He would be happy enough with the words and watch whilst we continued our mandate to fight our enemies in the East.

Whilst we fought, on the inside Emperor Ioannis gathered those loyal to him closest. Pavlos, Vringas and Andronikos became a privy council. But on the outside things carried on I guess as administrations do without any flicker of rebellion.

Then the Emperor started to issue commands. We saw immediately that there was no loyalty to this new emperor, I remember fearfully shaking as I dared to defy him in the senate halls. It is a wonder I am still alive, I feel at comfort with my statements on that day and was fully prepared to die for them. The emperor was once again trumped by the politicians and the people you might say - his command to make peace with the Fatamids was ignored. But this darkened his mood he surely knew now that these days were just a matter of time.

Now we come to the present, my term as Megas ended... the election for the new Megas passed smoothly in favour of Pavlos over a young man most of us barely knew, perhaps a puppet opposition who is to say? The election took second standing to events over in Mecca, in the courts of Tagaris his young daughter had come of age. I can hear Tiverios now the young governer of the capital bemoaning the fight over a 14 year old girl. The Emperor commanded that she marry his eldest brother, the Caeser defied the order and married her to another.

War was declared. The emperor commanded that his empire rise up in arms.

Duty.

The Aegean sea: (on a merchents vessel)

I need to think of how I am going to break the news to my soldiers. It is delicate, they are much taken with the young prince Isaakios, it is not often that they get to mix with royalty. Outwardly, there is not much inspirational about him apart from his bloodline that is enough for most men. But I have seen and dined with legends. Yet I respect and cherish Isaakios as I do others. Inwardly he is a most well spoken and thoughtful young man, I believe his apparent contempt for politics is a front for a far more deep person he is yet to reveal.

The soldiers, they are a promising bunch. I have several veterens of the battle we fought together in Anatolia against the Fatamid Jihad. My god that seems so long ago. The others have been trained in Markinople and Corinth and are some of the finest men from these parts. They are eager to fight the enemy, I was fearful of whether they would take to fighting the fellow Christians of Venice, let alone fellow Romans. They'd do it I am sure, but can I live with myself for forcing them to do it.

I keep telling myself - why fight for an empire that you do not believe in? If I am unwilling to fight for the emperor, then what exactly am I fighting for?

I see Ariantis now, me and him drinking in our younger days in the halls of the Asteri. The young bold adventurer, who became what he is today one of the 'traitors'. How can I call him a traitor? Why will he not answer the call of duty? Does he seriously believe that he can sit in this so called Neutrality? They fell over themselves to mention that word, over and over it rings in my head. What kind of an empire do they believe they are in? The emperor commands you obey or you disobey the matter is simple....

and yet.... here I am just a few days from having to talk to Isaakios, one of those that has been talking of neutrality. I hope he is comforted by the news I have from the Emperor.

ULC

10-28-2008, 18:18

Alexandria, 1156

Nikolaos staggered into his room, exhausted from running hither and yonder to keep the peace within the Magnaura the best he could. He sighed to himself, kicking off his boots, knowing that he had never been cut out for the power given him. He was a soldier, a Varangian, not the senator and House leader he was now.

"Damn it all...I wish Lady Veronica were here, she had the right mind for these things.” Nikolaos sighed, remembering the feisty woman who seemed perpetually at war with the world, and winning at that. Nikolaos thought back to the day when she had first ensnared him in her games...

-------------------------------

“Of course, Alexandria's riches will be open to Milanese ships! We are allies after all, Lady Veronica.” Nikolaos stood perplexed, pouring himself a mug of mead as lady Veronica sat crossed legged, leaning back in her chair with her black hair tied back and in what seemed clothing more fitting for a man in the current Duke of Milan's livery.

“I am making sure Nikolaos, as you know I am on a diplomatic mission to insure that the Roman Empire's and Milan's interests remain...in accord.” Nikolaos turned sharply to give Veronica a hard look. “Careful what you speak of, you sound as if Milan you were trying to threaten the Roman Empire.” Veronica smiled coyly. “Oh course not, but proper wording is required for any diplomatic engagement, and to say in my Duke's stead that he is solely loyal to the Roman Empire would do him disservice. Honesty is a good policy, don't you think Nikolaos?”

“It is a good policy not many follow, and few even follow through. Veronica, you need not be so wordy with me, you know your wit would dazzle me any day. Speak plainly, please, we have known each other for sometime now, I have nothing to hide from you, why should you have something to hide from me?” Veronica pursed her lips and thought for a moment, before slamming her chair back on four legs to lean forward across the table and stare directly into Nikolaos eyes. Nikolaos flinches under her gaze and the unexpected move.

“I am in a rather tenuous position as a cousin of the current Duke, more specifically, my children and I are in a tenuous position. My children are a direct threat to my cousin Francesco's children, and as such I am liable to loose them at any moment simply because of politics. I can do nothing for Demetrios and Chara, and Riccardino has been adopted by Duke Francesco Rossi out of the...kindness of his heart. Riccardino has a chance as he is still young, and no real threat to the throne...”

Nikolaos raises an eyebrow. “How are Demetrios and Chara threats to the Milanese throne? I don't see why this Francesco can't take them in all the same...your not telling me something Veronica...as you usually do.” Veronica's eyes narrowed. “I'm not withholding anything.” Nikolaos planted his fists on the table and stared right back into Veronica's eyes. “You are withholding something, don't lie to me Veronica. The Duke should have nothing to fear from either Demetrios or Chara unless they could claim lineage to royalty from a nearby...Iakovos was German, wasn't he?” Veronica held Nikolaos gaze. “They are not Iakovos's children.” Nikolaos returned the stare. “They are not Hypatios's then, are they?”

Veronica flinched, and it dawned on Nikolaos. “They are Iakovos's children! Why do you lie about such things Veronica! And how is it that Iakovos is related to royalty!” Veronica turned away and started to leave, but Nikolaos grabbed her arm. “Veronica, this is not right! Why do you lie to your own children!” Veronica yelled past her tears at Nikolaos. “TO PROTECT THEM! TO KEEP THEM FROM THE LIFE I LIVED! I want them to live a peaceful life, away from all the bitter politics that consume all of noble blood!” Veronica broke into the tears and fell to her knees, slipping out of Nikolaos fading grasp.

Nikolaos grabbed his forehead and began trying to organize his swirling thoughts. “So, that would mean Iakovos's mother was-” Veronica finished his sentence, wiping away her tears but not getting up. “A Hohenstaufen. Francesco fears Chara and Demetrios because he thinks that if they ascend to the throne, it would unite Milan with the Holy Roman Empire. And the Hohenstaufen family does not wish to see to many competitors or unnecessary war with Milan, so I have been politely refused asylum. So...they have no were to go but here...where they can be safe...Nikolaos...I need you to be their Godfather.”

Nikolaos did a double take. “Uh, what again? The mead must be getting to me, I could have sworn you said you wanted me to be the-” Veronica laughed weakly. “Their Godfather? Indeed I did. Nikolaos, your the only one I trust that will take them in! You've already accepted them as if they were your own children, and they love you just as warmly.” Nikolaos stuttered. “Yes, true but...I mean, Methodios?! Armatos! Makedonios! Even Kalameteros!”

Veronica sniffled as she lifted herself up with the help of a chair. “All refused...oh, look at me, a grown woman crying like this...” Veronica tried to straighten her clothes, but Nikolaos grabbed her hands and pulled them away. “You are fine Lady Veronica...few women have I met that are as strong as you. To hide such a burden, most would have fallen apart. I gladly accept your offer...but may I ask why now?”

-------------------------------

Nikolaos sighed. He had soon gotten his answer. Within a few months, Veronica had taken ill, and became bed ridden. It was heart wrenching to see her waste away, unable to do anything no matter how hard she tried. But Nikolaos had been there...

-------------------------------

"But you'll be fine, right mom? Right? I mean, you can just tear through the bad guys like you usually, do, I am sure you can beat this!" Demetrios held his mothers hand as Chara and little Riccardino stood off to one side, Nikolaos in the doorway. Veronica smiled warmly at Demetrios, and reached up to hold his shoulder from her bed. Through bloodstained lips, Veronica's spoke with an unsteady voice. "Demetrios...you were always the hopeful one. I always wondered how you held onto it, how you always managed to inspire the best in everyone by your infectious hope." On the other side of the bed, the physician was finishing up. "Children, if you please. Your mother needs peace and quiet, and as much rest as she can get. She won-" Veronica turned on the physician. “Do not presume to tell my children what to do. I can get my rest when I need to sleep, I don't ne-” Veronica fell into a coughing fit, and in an instant, Nikolaos was at her side, lifting her up to help her.

Veronica waved away Nikolaos. “Please, leave me with the children...I want to speak to them.” Nikolaos obediently moved to leave, making sure the physician went first, shutting the door behind him. Out in the hall way, Nikolaos accosted the man. “tell me, how long does she have? Will she be better?” The Physician looked pityingly at Nikolaos. “She will die, there is nothing that will stop that. It will only be a when...I giver her days, maybe a few weeks. God has called her, and nothing I do will stop him from bringing her to heaven.”

Nikolaos nodded solemnly, and let the man go. After a few minutes, the door opened and the children filed out, clearly disheartened. Nikolaos ruffed the hair of Demetrios. “Why don't you take your brother and sister to the Library. There is something there for all of you.” Demetrios nodded, still solemn where as the others had brightened. As they walked away, Nikolaos puzzled...what had Veronica told Demetrios that would so sap him of his usual good humor?”

“Are you alright Lady Veronica?” Nikolaos ducked into the room and took his usual spot next to Veronica. “I am fine Nikolaos...thank you.” Nikolaos smiled warmly. “Tis alright Lady Veronica. I am more then happy.” As the hours ticked by, first Veronica, then Nikolaos, nodded off...

As the stranger moved to leave, having left his note on Veronica's stand, Nikolaos arm shot out, grabbing the man by his cloak. “Hold you! How dare you trespass! I should gut you, but I will give you a chance to explain yourself!” For a moment, everything was still, the only sound that of Veronica's heavy and ragged breathing. Finally, the cloaked man spoke. “You should know me Nikolaos, your the one who sent me away in disgrace and chains.” Nikolaos eyes widened in surprise. “Aleksander! How dare you show your face here!” Aleksander whisper shouted back. “Quiet you oaf! You will wake Veronica.” Nikolaos stood, lifting Aleksander clean off his feet, and held him out, dangling in mid air. “I should kill you for breaking Imperial Law! Exile!”

Veronica stirred from sleep, lazily groping around. “Nikolaos, why so loud? Who on earth are you talking to?” Her hand fell across the letter, and before Nikolaos could react, she had a candle lit and the scene was revealed. Veronica gasped. “Aleksander! I told you not to come!” Aleksander shrugged. “I've never been one for rules...but since your oaf of a guard woke you, might as well discuss this civilly, right? You wouldn't want to make an orphan, now would you?” Veronica nodded at Nikolaos, who then dropped Aleksander roughly to the floor without a seconds thought.

Dusting himself off, Aleksander began. “I am here to leave Sergios with you, as we discussed. Hungarian authorities have decided that I am worth capturing and sending back to the Empire for a hefty ransom. He will be safe here. His mother will be staying here as well. I trust you will not tell anyone of Sergios's lineage? Good. I am asking that they stay here until I can come back for them when it is safe, nothing more. If you need, I will-” Veronica waved her hand. “Although you presume much, I will take in Sergios and his mother Luca, and you need not worry about paying for anything. But if you appear without notice, if anything mysterious happens within the entirety of the Empire, when you come to claim them, I will run you through, and Luca and Sergios will serve this House, as slaves. Is this understood Aleksander?”

Aleksander chuckles. “Don't be so loving and generous Veronica, you might just outdo Jesus. Fine, I accept your proposal.” And with that, Aleksander left. Nikolaos sighed in relief. “What a godless and wretched knave...I am sorry for waking you Lady Veronica.” Shaking her head, Veronica leaned back onto her pillow. “No, it's quite alright Nikolaos, I am glad I was able to talk to Aleksander instead of having him force his conditions upon me. Nikolaos..go to bed please, I will be alright for the night.” Nikolaos nodded. “Yes Lady Veronica.” As Nikolaos walked under the door way, Veronica shouted at his back. “And stop calling me Lady Veronica!”

-------------------------------

Nikolaos sighed, rapping his fingers on the book he had just picked up. His thoughts trailed to the day she had died, and Aleksander had come to claim his wife and child. He had gone in peace, and for once did not crack any jokes, and seemed genuinely sad at Veronica's passing.

-------------------------------

“You've done more for her then I was ever capable of giving her...her last days must have been wonderful...you ever wonder Nikolaos, if you will be lonely at the end? I am lucky to have Luca and Sergios...I'd give my life for them, any day...no matter the conditions. I want more for Luca and Sergios then the life I have given them.” Nikolaos laughed and slapped Aleksander on the back. “First time in your life you give a damn about someone else other then yourself?” Aleksander rubbed the now red spot on his back and muttered, “Yeah, something like that.”

Aleksander stood up, and removed something from his sleeve. “When Sergios is old enough Nikolaos, give him this. It's the papers he needs to claim himself as my legitimate son. It will enable him access to my families money, as well as make him a Senator of the Roman Empire.” Nikolaos eyed Aleksander, then turned back to stare into emptiness muttering, “Why everyone dump their kids off on me?”, as he took another swig from his wine glass.

Aleksander looked up at Nikolaos. “You've been teaching Demetrios to fight?” Nikolaos choked on his wine, spewing it out upon the ground. Wiping it off his chin, Nikolaos continued laughing. “No, no, he teaches me! I've never seen anyone so young so skilled with a blade. He could easily beat some of the best men in the Empire...” Aleksander thought for a moment. “When Sergios becomes a Senator...could you send Demetrios to train him? I have kept the boy away from war and bloodshed as much as possible...” Nikolaos looks at Aleksander. “That's no good for a boy...but yes, that sounds reasonable.”

Aleksander nodded. “Thank you...I must be going, I don't want you to end up in trouble simply because I paid a visit...good bye Nikolaos.” Nikolaos stood, and in his drunken state grabbed Aleksander in embrace, nearly crushing him. “Good to see you too Aleksander. You have such a wonderful kid and wife. Don't let em go.” Aleksander fell to the ground once Nikolaos let him go, and unable to manage any words, simply nodded feverishly as he walked away.

-------------------------------

Nikolaos turned over, closing his eyes. So many promises to so many people...especially that last promise he mad to Veronica as she died, a promise he hoped to make good on soon. Nikolaos shook himself. Sad thoughts would only trouble his dreams. Better to sleep now, and worry over breakfast...

Smowz

11-03-2008, 21:36

Athens 1158

Following a short sermon on a hilltop over their family home, Makadonias ek Philadelphius raises sombrely out of his seat to deliver a Eulogy for his beloved brother Nevoulas. He steadies himself determined to not let his brother down as he had done so badly in the past.

I thank you all for joining with me today to bury my dear brother and Senator of the Empire Nevoulas ek Philadelphius.

My brother was not born of noble blood, he was born here in the countryside of Greece.

Looks around at the surroundings.

As young lads, he and I would run amongst these hills and dream of past glorious leaders of the Roman empire. Little did we know what battles and trials awaited us in the near future.

Nevo stood here and watched as myself and our .... father.

Makadonias spits the last word out like it was a dirty one. He wipes his mouth and simultaneously wipes the tears from his eyes.

He watched whilst we would ride away to our decadent destiny where we both were responsible for shaming the family.

Makadonias now looks down at his dead brother.

It was here that Nevo restored my pride and honour after a period of rehabilitation. It will always leave me with much regret that I will not be able to show you my loyalty my brother. I hope you keep a place for me in the afterlife.

Makadonias tears himself away from this moment and looks up at the audience.

I thank the many of you, who have played tribute to my brother. As you know Nevo was a loyal servant of the empire, he belived with all of his heart that he was born to serve it. It was in Crete that he paid the ultimate sacrifice, leading by example where other men hesitated into the breach. It was similar to the way he lived much of his adult life, committing acts that were above his station.

I had only been shortly reunited with Nevo when he was elected Megas, an honour that I never could have fathomed possible. In truth, he felt uncomfortable with being thrust into this position of power, he only did so when it was clear that no other suitable candidates were available. It was clear from the way in which his term was conducted that Nevoulas was a popular man and despite the death of the legendary Aleksios Komnenus he managed to be the glue that kept the empire together.

Let it be known despite the misgivings that I know some people have of him, Nevoulas is a loyal supporter of not only the empire, but its emperor. I understand that the feeling was shared, my brother and the emperor had become quite close by the time of Nevo's passing. I know that it hurt him to see, the empire bleeding as it is now.

Makadonias now turns to the delegates of the House of Asteri.

Despite Nevo's loyalties toward the emperor, he knew his place and spent much of his time in power consiladating and improving the provinces within the hands of the house of Asteri and its friends. In his death the reigns of Nevoulas' two Duchies pass on to Zigavinos Vasilakios.

Makadonias breathes uneasily.

I do not know if you are here Lord Zigavinos, but I would like to pass on a message from Nevo. He passed me a will before he passed away. One that does not carry the seal of authority, but nether-the-less believe me was his dearest wish. He knows your first love is Anatolia and you have patrolled your borders well. He knows that Markinople will be in safe hands under your stewardship. However with the province of Belgrade, it would be our families dearest wish if you would pass it on to his highness the Basilues Ioannis Komnenus. This was Nevoulas' wish, I hope you can respect that no matter what your ideological differences with his highness it.

Makadonias then looks up to the rest of the people present.

Finally it is with great honour to learn of Prince Isaakios Komnenus intention on renaming the settlement on Crete after Nevo. His name deserves to live on through the ages as a hero of the empire.

Makadonias exits the stage now, to retreat to a life unknown.

ULC

11-09-2008, 11:18

Outside Alexandria, 1164

"Aye, we found him Lord Aristenos! Had to chase him down though, for an old man he can sure run fast."

Nikolaos nodded to the captain. "Thank you captain, please bring him into my command tent. That will be all." With a sharp salute, the captain left the tent, and he returned quickly with a man dressed in clerical robes, although not of Roman origin.

Looking up from his paperwork, Nikolaos finally stood up, and the priest suddenly fell out of his chair as he tried to look up at Nikolaos. Nikolaos was already on one knee offering his hand. "I am sorry, I do that sometimes, here." The priest muttered something to himself as he brushed away Nikolaos's hand and seated himself with a bit of difficulty on his chair. As Nikolaos returned to his desk, the priest coughed into his hand.

Nikolaos looked up sharply. "Yes?"
The priest looked over at Nikolaos haughtily, and spoke with a an Italian accent. "May I ask why I am being detained and why I was so rudely forced by Roman soldiers to come here? I have a sermon to conduct!"

Nikolaos looked back down at his papers, rifling through them as he scanned each. Silence suddenly pervaded the room, and it's heaviness seemed to squish the air out of the priest again. He coughed into his hand again. Nikolaos looked back up. "Have you caught cold? I can fetch my physician if you need him."

The priest gave Nikolaos a stern look, and his voice took on a condescending tone. "I said I had a sermon to conduct. There are several hundred people waiting for me!" Nikolaos returned to his paper flipping. The priest turned scarlet. "Now see here! You have not given me any explanation as to-"

Nikolaos held up his hand. "Please, Father, I am looking for you on the rosters here and I cannot find you. I find it very distracting when you talk, and I keep losing my place when you do. If you are not on the roster, I cannot legally allow you to conduct your sermons." The priest stood firm. "Roster? I have heard of no roster! The word of God does not require a roster, it does not require "legality" to be spoken for those wishing it, it is above mortal law, God is above mortal law, and you sir are-"

Nikolaos stood up. "Enough, please Father! I am a Roman senator, and as such I must set an example by following the law, as should you. It is Roman law that requires one to be placed in line for the roster, for assignment! It has been so for as long as I have known, and I was told this by one of the priests from Antiokeia."

The priest sniffed. "I do not answer to 'Roman law', and I most certainly do not answer to to anyone else other then God and the Pope!" Nikolaos did a quick double take at the priest. "Excuse me? Say that again?"

The priest smirked at the dumbfounded look on Nikolaos's face. "I answer to no one, other then God and the Pope. So your "Roman Law", so you can go and-"

Nikolaos sat back down and pulled out his quill. "CAPTAIN!" A burst of fabric and with lightning speed, the captain was within the tent. Nikolaos cocked an eyebrow. "Where you outside the tent this whole time?" The captain shrugged a bit. "Ehhh, yes M'lord. I mean no M'lord, but yes M'lord." Nikolaos shook his head and began writing a note. "Please escort the Catholic Priest to the-"

"I am a Cardinal from Rome, a member of the collegiate! Not some backwater priest!" Nikolaos sighed exasperatedly as he fetched another piece of paper and began writing a new. "Please escort the Italian Catholic Card-" The Cardinal yelled again. "I am Sicilian! Do not compare me to those godless Milanese or Venetians, God save those poor and unfortunate enough to be under their reign."

Nikolaos sighed, picked up another piece of paper and began writing. "Please escort the Sicilian Catholic Cardinal to the-" The Cardinal moved to speak again, but Nikolaos lifted up his hand. The Cardinal grew indignant, but each time he made to say something, Nikolaos's hand shot up. When it was clear Nikolaos had won, he continued. "-to the docks, for deportation."

The Cardinal stood up, his face livid. "Now see here! I come from Rome to spread the true faith! You have no right to send me away, you heretical fool! I do God's work, even if I have to deal with such atrocious accommodations" Nikolaos did not bother to look up. "Continue to insult me, and I will send you to Constantinople to stand trial for sedition. As it is now, I am being awfully nice to you. Captain?" Nikolaos held out the letter, but before he could reach it, the Cardinal grabbed it and tore it into shreds with a smug look on his face.

Nikolaos began to grow angry, standing up with a start to his full height. "There was no call for that! How dare you interfere, I was saving your neck from the chopping-" A look of shock crossed the Cardinal's face, and he suddenly dropped dead. A moment of awkward silence fell upon the captain and Nikolaos.

"He's dead, isn't he?"
"Aye M'lord," the captain said, kicking the slumped over cardinal with his boot. "Sure of it."
Another awkward pause followed as the captain kicked the cardinal's body again. Nikolaos coughed uncomfortably. "Send a letter to the Sicilians informing them that their Cardinal has, uh..." Nikolaos looks over at the captain questioningly, "Lost at sea?" The captain nodded. "Aye M'lord, that should do it."

Nikolaos sat back down in his chair, and began writing his note. The captain waited a minute before asking. "And the body M'lord?" Nikolaos looked up. "Ehhh...do what you see best captain." Nikolaos returned to his writing. As the captain left with the body, Nikolaos inwardly reminded himself he needed to go to mass one of these days.

Andres

11-19-2008, 14:51

Italy - Bologna region - here and now.

Savvas set foot on Italian soil.

"Ah, Italy... A pity we are at war with the Venetians now."

He looked at his trusted bodyguard, Kristophoros.

"Did I ever tell you about the first time I was in Venice?"

Kristophoros smiled. He knew that this is how his old master usually starts one of his legendary stories.

"No mylord, I don't think you ever did."

"No? Well, well. I was still young at the time. I believe I was 29, right after I made it to the position of Strator of the Byzantine Empire. Allthough I was nominated to the position, it was still a year or so before the next session in the Magnaura, so I decided to make a few good investments with my first salary. A young woman with, eh, interesting qualities had told me that the best wine and women were to be found in Venice, so, that's where I went."

Savvas stared at the blue sky and smiled when the memories came back.

***

Venice, a long time ago.

Savvas woke up and realised that he was infected by the grandmother of all hangovers.

"You're not going to wake up soon, are you, darling? Want to go for another round?"

Savvas groaned. A few moments later, he felt a warm body lying up him. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking at the ugliest teeth he ever saw in his young life.

"Oh no...", he thought by himself, the hangover mercilessly starting to manifest itself. When he looked closer to the woman's face, he also noticed a few hairs on her upper lip.

"Please, woman, leave me be. Can't you see I'm dying?"

The woman giggled. "Maybe you're already dead, "old man", and you're in heaven now..." The woman bit in Savvas lip.

"Heaven? You're overestimating yourself woman," Savvas said. "Get off me! Out off my bed!"

"This is my bed, fool, and you better be sure to pay me what you owe me or I'll go and get Tanathos," the woman angrily said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, do as you please, as long as I can stay in this bed. And I don't owe you nothing. You should be more then happy that I even considered spending the night with you."

That said, Savvas welcomed back the uncounciousness.

"Wake up, scumbag!" a raw voice said, followed by a fist in Savvas' face.

"Will this torment never end?" Savvas complained.

"Pay the lady, rich boy!" said the 7 feet tall collossuss.

"Lady? You call *that* a Lady?"

A few minutes later, Savvas found himself flying naked through the air.

"This is no way to treat a Senator of the Byzantine Empire!" Savvas shouted, shaking his fist at the etablissement he just had to leave.

He ran back to his home. Unfortunately, Apostolos, one of the messenger boys of House Tagamata was standing in front of his Venetian estate (in fact, it was pretty luxuruous and allthough he couldn't afford it, some smooth talking and false promises of paying for it on a monthly basis, convinced the owner, at the moment drunk as hell due to the company of Savvas, to sell it to the newly appointed Roman Senator). Not willing to show himself in this embarassing condition, Savvas decided to take a detour. While he was trying to sneak his way into his own house, a patrol just passed by.

"Hold it right there! Who are you and why are you sneaking in the surroundings of the estate of the Byzantine Strator, Savvas ek Militou?"

"Ehm, but I am Savvas. Please officer, let's keep this our little secret shall we? Just let me in my house and I'll give you a reward."

The guards laughed hysterically. "You are Savvas? You expect us to believe that some crazy guy wandering around naked in the streets of Venice, in the late afternoon, is in fact an esteemed Strator of one of the noble houses of the Byzantine Empire?"

***

Italy - Bologna - here and now.

Kristiphoros bursted out in laughter. "That's hilarious, Lord!"

"Oh well, luckily that messenger boy recognised me and was able to identify me. Needless to say, I never went back to Venice. Contrary to what I had been told, the women were not extroardinarily better looking then in Constantinople and the wine was just terrible."

Savvas kept staring before him, a meloncholic expression starting to show on his face.

"Those were the days, dear friend, those were the days. And what do we have now? Civil war, hatred and greed. Everybody fears or hates our Emperor. Ioannis is not a bad man, you know. Blunt, direct and a bit arrogant, yes, but not a bad person. In all his wisdom, our Basileus Aleksios made one mistake: he neglected his son. He should have given his son as much love as he has given his daughter, Anna. Did you know she never truly loved her brother? Sad, really."

Savvas took the bottle of wine he nowadays always had available in a sack attached to his saddle and emptied it.

He wiped something out of his eyes.

"And then my lord and dear friend Aleksios ek Ikoniou breaking our bound of fealthy because of politics."

Savvas face turned harder, the grim expression ruining his handsome features.

"Friendships that lasted for decades are now less important then short term political gain."

Savvas was now visibly angry. He drank some more wine from a second bottle and slowly calmed down.

"And now I am here with an army to burn and pillage the Venetians. If I'm succesful in my efforts, I might even end up burning the house I once owned in Venice and have my men raping the daughters of that teethless prostitute."

Savvas sounded bitter when he continued.

"What has happened to us, Kristophoros? Where did it go wrong?"

Savvas turned to Kristophoros and gave him a scroll.

"Go back to Constantinople and take this with you, Kristophoros. It's my last will. When the time comes, I want you to read it loudly in the Magnaura."

Kristophoros stared at Savvas, seemingly not able to understand what he was being told.

"But, sir, I should be on your side now. If I'm on your side, you won't die in this war."

Savvas moved his horse closer to Kristophoros' and gave him a hug. Still holding his trusted friend in his arms, he said :

"And that, my friend, is exactly why I don't want you to be on my side in this war."

"But..."

Savvas turned his horse and galopped away, yelling at his men:

"Move it, you lazy sons of ladies of questionable morality. I can already smell the wine and that famous sauce of those Bolognese. Your general is hungry and thirsty, so hurry up!"

The men, still exhausted from the boat trip laughed and cheered.

Nobody noticed the lonely soldier who was going back to the ships...

Cecil XIX

01-09-2009, 02:23

Nicosia 1171:

Makedonios’s death had been sudden, unexpected. Or at least, that’s what Armatos thought when he arrived to take account of the estate that had been left to him. This idea was reinforced by the fact that Makedonios, a private man, had not put his things in an order which made them easily accessible to others. Clearly he wasn’t expecting to go when he did.

It had taken him the better part of a week, but Armatos had been able to square away what he could and get things started on tying up Makedonios’s loose ends. But there was one more thing he needed to do, a request that Makedonios had left for him specifically.

Armatos couldn’t make heads or tales of it, but he had been instructed to deliver a letter to a man named Esaias, the head monk at Kykkos Monastery.

And so, Armatos set off. As he rode, he idly wondered if this was something important.

Cecil XIX

01-17-2009, 23:01

Cyprus 1171:

Kousinos Sophianos, a monk at the Kykkos Monastery, was just returning from an errand to a nearby town when the most tremendous thunderstorm suddenly broke out.

Desperately seeking shelter, he was fortunate enough to discover a cave within running distance. No sooner had he reached the shelter then he was stunned to find three hideously ugly, old women seemingly waiting for him.

“All hail, Constantine Ksanthopoulos! Hail to thee, monk of Kykkos!” exclaimed the first.

“All hail, Constantine Ksanthopoulos! Hail to thee, Duke of Tortosa!” echoed the second.

“All hail, Constantine Ksanthopoulos, though shalt be Basileus hereafter!” finished the third.

While trying to suppress his instinct to recoil in horror, Kousinos stammered “S-Still thy tongues, foul witches. I am not the man whom you seek, nor is there anyone at the Kykkos Monastery with that name!”

But the witches just smiled and continued onward

“The first, through the efforts of your father.”

“The second, from your benefactor.”

“The third, from yourself.”

“All gained from treachery!” finished the three in unison.

“W-What!?” said Kousinos. “Are you saying my father is responsible for my being abandoned here?”

The three witches then vanished into the air, their corporal forms vanishing as breath into the wind.

Stunned to silence, it takes Kousinos a while to realize the storm has stopped. With trepidation he continued onward back the monastery, only to be met by another brother who had been sent to meet him.

"Brother Kousinos, there's an important letter waiting for you back on the monastery!"

KnightnDay

01-22-2009, 03:42

On the road west of Constantinople, 1182

The two rode side by side, taking in the beauty of the day at the head of their troop column.

Trial by ordeal, my lord? The other senators I should think might react and claim you mad for suggesting such a thing! These the words of Aleksios Bartosis, commander of the bodyguard for Ammonathas Kalameteros.

Replied Ammonathas I was interested in how only one man would react. This fellow Erotikos is a clever one. I felt sure he would submit to no such thing, nor would he have travelled such a distance to allow himself to be so easily proven a murderer. Truthfully Aleksios, I have no idea if he is innocent or guilty. But one thing's for certain, the man knows something. Lord Vartholomaios is not trusting of the man, and I think rightfully so. And how this other one he mentioned, Kousinos Sophianos fits into all of this, only God knows. In any event, with all of this now past comes the opportunity to move once more against the Venetians. I only hope that Magnentios.... Column halt!

His right arm thrust skyward, the troops readily stopped in their place. From the distance could plainly be seen a lone rider at full gallop. Within a few short moments, the man pulled up the reins, jumped from the steed and after a few steps, knelt at the side of Ammonathas.

My lord, I had hoped to greet you at the city gates of Thessalonike in celebration, but was forced by a dreadful turn of events to instead bring you news of tragedy. Your brother Magnentios is dead. Slain by the Venetians with whom he gave battle. He fought nobly, my lord, please know this.

But Ammonathas no longer heard the words of the messenger. His head bowed, deep in thought, fighting off the tears. He then looked towards the sky.

I fear, Aleksios.. I fear that the light of the House of Asteri is all but burned out. My father gravely ill, now Magnentios dead, no word from Sophronios, Zigavinos or Andreas. And Aleksios ek Ikoniou's thoughts must surely be far from this house while he manages an empire with a Basileus that drifts with the ocean currents. And now I must share this terrible news with the men who once served Magnentios so loyally.

Captain Bartosis wasted no words. These men, sir, are the army of Lord Ammonathas Kalameteros, and will fight to the death if necessary, at your side. As will I.

With those spoken words, Ammonathas became energized at an instant. Messenger, you have travelled a great distance and accomplished your task. Now I send you on another...

My Lord, excuse me, but there was another message, this from the Magnaura concerning a princess bride...

Ammonathas abruptly stops him- No more, do I wish to hear from you of any matter other than the one I now command that you be concerned with! I have a message to be delivered personally to the Megas Logothetes, if he will see fit to receive you. Among his great responsibilities, he commands Fortress Corinth. And by our law he can raise troops there as he sees fit. You shall tell him that Senator Kalameteros beseeches him to provide three hundred or so professional soldiers to be joined from Corinth with this army. We shall then march against the Venetians with any and all lords of our empire that will stand with House Asteri. Are you clear as to what I ask of you?

I understand sir, I ride on at once. the young lad replied

Very good, I thank you for your service to your empire. Aleksios, call the men together so that I may tell them of a proud and brave man, my brother, now fallen. We then resume our march at once towards the Venetians.

Cecil XIX

01-22-2009, 06:36

Ioannis Erotikas, raised just a year before to the office of Senator due to the abrupt death of his elder brother in a hunting accident, rode south out of Aleppo with his hollow eyed cadre of guardsmen in tow. The men had been up all night torturing some Turkish camp followers for the precise location of the enemy's nearby army. As often happened with non-soldiers the direct application of pain had proved far less effective than making the three men watch while the women were worked over. By the wee hours of the morning a few of them might even have still been alive, technically, when the Greeks hastily departed their camp.

Ioannis Erotikas himself rode with his head held high, the dry wind whipping through his his hair and a sublime expression on his face. His birthright as a Senator had proven quite disappointing; it seemed the Senate was little more than a lazily played game with the Magnaura as a backdrop and the priveleges of a Senator were not so very different from the priveleges of any nobleman. With life at the center of the Empire having been pressed to the very limits of taste already Io had at last determined that he would now try life at the edges of Empire to see if it had any more flavor.

Only there was something he needed first. Something without which his own, crucial, personal existence might be at risk out here.

An army. And word had it one of those could be found at Damascus, under the command of the former Grandmaster of the Order of St. John. The law demanded that he interview with the general before he could even join this force, bound for who knows where, but Ioannis Erotikas had found himself to be fate's happy fool often enough in life to smell an opportunity in the breeze.

So it was that Io and his exhausted men found themselves camped within sight of the walls of Damascus. With greedy eyes alight Io commanded his orderlies to set up his tent, summoned a fresh mount, and rode on into the city himself to seek an audience with the retired Grandmaster.

That same former Grandmaster was inspecting his army outside the city opposite of Ioannis's approach when a messenger ran up to him; stopping and saluting before he continued.

"My Lord, Senator Ioannis Erotikas requests an audience."

Armatos furrowed his brow.

"Who?"

The guard coughed nervously, then produced Ioannis's credentials. Armatos looked them over.

"Well, these *do* seem to be in order. Very well, inform him that we shall meet in the city's center square."

Having dispatched the messenger Armatos summoned a horse of his own, and began trotting towards the meeting site.

Io, arriving at the square first, surveyed Damascus dispassionately. The town was quiet this morning, just a few peasants moving about in the slowly warming air. To the east one could see all the way down the cobbled street to the gates that opened onto the road into Turkish lands, and Io turned his horse to face that way as he waited. As soon as he noticed the approach of Armatos Io arranged his face in a slightly deferential smile and slumped a bit in his saddle to let some of the weariness he had previously restrained show through in his demeanor, resolving to let the senior man speak first.

As Armatos closed the distance, he decided to speak as soon as he thought Ioannis could hear him.

"Senator Erotikas, welcome to Damascus! To what do I owe this pleasent surprise?"

Deference practically drips from Io's words as he raises his head to respond, "Grandmaster I am on a tour of the outer ranges of the Empire, but it seems I have chosen a poor occassion for it! The Turks and their rebel lackeys are everywhere. I do not consider myself a fearful man, but my guardsmen plead with me not to ride through the countryside alone any longer. So I must beg permission to join my guards to your cause when you depart the city...

Armatos nods. "Of course, you and your men are welcome to join us. Why, we were just about to set off to deal with the Turkish army to the east. Where are your men encamped?

A wide smile spreads across Io's face, and he bows his head a bit before answering, "We're just northeast of the city! The men will be ready to depart anytime, I assure you. In fact with your leave I will ride ahead, I believe I have an appropriate gift for you to celebrate your graciousness."

Armatos raised an eyebrow.

"A gift, eh? Very well. We leave first thing in the morning. Bring your men into the city; I will arrange for more suitable accomodations."

"Oh no m'lord, not necessary at all! Besides, to ask the men to strike the tents when I've just had them setting up will raise discontent. Best if I am your simple host at my tent before we ride tomorrow. I shall have your gift awaiting your arrival!"

Io then bows deeply across the back of his horse and without further ceremony rides away.

Armatos sighs, and rides over to the nearest aide.

"Tell Sigismund I have need of him."

***

A short time later, Armatos and Sigismund had arrived at Ioannis's campsite.

An orderly takes the men in hand and guides them to the site of Io's tent, where his guardsmen and servants are abuzz with action. Seeing the former Grandmaster approach every man among them bows briefly as he passes, but swiftly returns to action striking the camp afterward. The orderly silently pull aside the flap on the largest tent, towards the back of the camp, and indicates that the two men should enter.

Inside Io can be seen examining a large, hand drawn, map of the region. He glances over his shoulder to see who has entered, and then turns fully to greet Armatos with a bow,

"Ahh, well met again m'Lord! Your gift has been sent for, and my men are tearing down the camp so that we may march as quickly as possible. I trust the soldiers are assembled and waiting for us beyond the city..."

Io reads Aramtos' answer in his eyes and hastily continues with his speech, giving no room for a reply,

"Excellent, excellent! Such a body of soldiers as the center of the Empire hardly knows in these corrupt old days, but no matter, here is your gift!"

With a flourish Io throws the tent flap wide for two of his guardsmen to bring a trembling young girl into the tent. She wears no make-up, but her dress clearly distinguishes just what sort of gift she is meant to be; a whore. Her skin and features are exquisite except for two dark binding marks on her wrist, and also of indeterminate origin. She could well even be Greek.

She is perhaps twelve years old and her eyes are darkly blank, but wet.

"I've kept this slave apart from the lads just for you Armatos, and I've had my personal bodyservant putting food in her so she'll gain weight. I trust she is satisfactory? We took her just days ago from a stubborn family outside Aleppo..."

The scowl on Armatos' face is terrifying, perhaps largely because he has hardly ever so much as frowned in his life.

"Erotikos, you fiend! Of all the despicable-! Sigismund, help me with this poor girl!"

A remarkable series of expressions, rage, confusion, frustration, perhaps even a tinge of self pity, parade across Io's face as he realizes his mistake and the potential seriousness of his predicament. At last he hangs his head in shame and pulls his hands in against his stomach in a gesture of seeming contrition. Words babble out of him at a rapid pace, blurring together as he approaches Armatos where he tends to the girl,

"God forgive me! Armatos, please, forgive me! I had no idea... come, I will free her to your custody immediately... and have the men who took her flayed... and... we will depart...

Please, first, please brother... senator... Greek! Embrace me and absolve me of your anger so that I can go on my way through your lands alone in peace!"

With his head hanging low in apparent contrition Io moves to stand directly in front of Armatos, hands still moving convulsively, aimlessly over the front of his shirt.

"Yes, yes, spare me your apologies!" Having finished checking the girl to injuries, Armatos hoists her into his arms, stands up and turns to face Io.

"Be thankful that you are a Senator, for I would give no one else a second chance! I'm leaving to take this girl to safety, and if you truly want to travel in peace then you and your men had better pack up and leave before I return with my army!"

Armatos and Sigismund glare at Ioannis as they turn to leave the tent.

A look of utter panic descends over Io's face for an instant before it resolves into action. His hands cease their aimless movement as he glides silently up behind the departing form of Armatos, the right withdrawing a vicious looking dagger from beneath his shirt. Giving no time for a reaction Io takes advantage of the fact that Armatos is holding the girl to place his left hand on one side of the former Grandmaster's neck while the dagger in the right hand plunges brutally into his throat.

Holding Armatos under his chin Io then makes a sawing motion with the knife, tearing his neck entirely open before letting him collapse to the ground on top of the young girl.

The entire operation is nearly soundless, and before the abruptly blood soaked girl can even scream Io roars out,

"Guards!"

The sounds of armed men rushing to the tent are apparent as Io offers Sigismund a nasty grin while swiping his blade through the air to fling the blood from it...

For a moment, a mixture of pain and anger crosses Sigismund's face as he stares at the temptingly close Erotikas. But that quickly passes, and he lets out a mighty shout.

"Velezrada!"

He then quickly speeds out of the tent before Ioannis's men can respond and mounts his horse.

"Uspíšit, Edmund!"

Io's guardsmen rush into the tent as Sigismund flees, making certain their lord is safe before any thought of pursuit. These men know their leader well, so when the girl starts to scream and struggle her way out from under the corpse of Armatos one leans down to cuff her brutally into silence, which allows Ioannis to speak in a calm, quiet tone,

"Mark, Bart, you're with me. Have my horse saddled immediately. We must secure the soldiers Armatos brought onto the road with a tale of vile Muslim treachery. I'll have them on the march towards their imagined enemies within the hour, leaving no time for thought! Have the orderlies clean the body up so we can display it as necessary to get their blood up. If Damascus has sufficient supply we'll pack it in salt and carry it along. No pursuit of the one who fled. He's a westerner, he can't go back to the army with a tale that contradicts a Greek noble's own word."

As he marches out of the tent Io catches the sound of a whimper from the girl, still covered in blood and crouching on the ground. He pauses just long enough to say,

"Oh, and have her cleaned up and strapped across a pack mule for the march. I'll see to her when we make camp again tonight."

Setting off for his horse at his usual rapid pace Io can be heard to mutter, beneath his breath, "Praise God! I knew I smelled opportunity out here!"

KnightnDay

01-24-2009, 15:55

Dearest mother,

I hope this day finds you well, as clearly some of the most recent seem to have been the darkest. The death of brother Magnentios has been a difficult burden to bear, but for the sake of my soldiers, I do all that I can to show no ill effects. In any other time, I would return for the funeral but of course you know that under present circumstances I cannot.

The news that father seems no closer to the end of his illness is troubling as well. I have heard that there are physicians who say he will never recover. Surely you know that in my evening prayers, I ask our God to restore him to good health. If he is well enough to receive any news, please assure him that I am doing all that I know to insure our house retains a meaningful place in Byzantium.

In your previous correspondence, you had asked me what my impression was of the Magnaura. I will tell you that there are no lack of good and honorable men there, yet as you would expect, some have their own interests at heart. In fact I dare say there may be those whose motives have little to do with the well being of our empire. One in particular is a Senator Erotikos from the holy lands. It has been suggested he murdered another senator, but no tangible proof exists that this be so. Yet his words seem so evasive, his actions equally suspect. He carries about as if he knows that he will not be touched in any meaningful way. But he now possesses a large army of his own, and given the senate’s reluctance to shed blood among members, perhaps this individual has good reason to feel safe. When I departed the Magnaura, I felt him not more than a questionable and unsavory character. Yet now with the reports I hear of his continuing behavior in the senate chambers, with every passing day I become concerned of a darker and more sinister purpose behind all this.

I must say that I was so pleased to have actually seen Methodios the Conqueror in the senate chamber. Although he has aged so, I can’t help but remember back to earlier days when his stories of triumph over our enemies were so exciting to me. And I remember not long ago being so greatly relieved when father felt compelled to declare war on him but at the same time said that he would do nothing to cause harm to one that I looked to as an inspiration in happier times.

I must end this letter now, as preparations must be made for the arrival of antypatos Vasilakios. I have made camp on the road between Constantinople and Thessalonike in order so that our two groups may come together as one and strengthen our position. We have still so far to travel before it is time to test my courage in battle. Until that time you surely know I will stay safe.

All my love,

Ammonathas

TheFlax

01-25-2009, 01:55

Coop written with YLC

Apulia, 1182

A trio of mounted men made their way across the sparse field. Leading them was Markos ek Sinopis in full battle regalia. He wore an expensive lorikia under the customary klibanion made him more imposing and gave him added protection he thought would surely be needed in the pitched battle ahead; if it did came to battle. A thick kite shield was strapped to his left arm, while his spathion was sheathed in a baldric and hung at his left hip. Under his thick iron helmet, his normally gentle features expressed a certain discomfort, partly at the situation but mostly at all the armor he was wearing, even after the recent years of campaigning he was still ill at ease when in arms.

At his side rode a Frankish knight, leader of the mercenaries recently recruited, and one of his own bodyguards. Both heavily armored men glanced around nervously, for while the Sicilians were on friendly terms with the Empire, they would not take kindly to the two armies fighting on their land. The last thing any of them wanted was a Sicilian army joining the fray. When all three men had reached the center of the field, Markos’ bodyguard lifted a banner of the Byzantine Empire as a signal to their counterparts.

Helarionas noted the banner being raised up, and with a select few of his most trusted men and Chara came out of hiding from a flanking position, their bows at the ready. Helarionas smiled briefly at Markos, sheathing the bidenhander he wielded in his left hand, and extending his right hand in friendship.

"You wish to speak Markos? I know you hunt me, but your message indicated you wished to speak upon terms first. I will hear them, but be warned, I may not agree to them. And sorry for misleading you-" Helarionas points to the three mounted men in the distance, in the front of Helarionas's army. "-but a man in my position cannot leave much to chance."

"Perhaps, but I am a man of my word, you will not be harmed." Markos studied Helarionas for an instant and bowed low in his saddle to grip his hand. "Before I speak of terms, let me first say that I hold no personal animosity toward you. Unlike some I do not consider you a traitor, but you do have to be brought to justice for defying our laws. My terms are the following: You surrender the Princess to me, your men are to return to your holding and you are to accompany me to Magnaura to face the justice of your peers. If you do so without deceit, I will plead for leniency and defend you if necessary. You can still end this without bloodshed, if we do battle there will be no turning back."

Chara snickered off to Helarionas's right, but he ignored her. Looking back up at Markos, Helarionas returned the mans gaze with steely determination. "On what charges am I to be tried?"

Markos scowled slightly at the woman, yet replied in even tones. "Well for one, denying the will of the Basileus and the Ceasar in your union with the princess. That is assuming you did not kidnap her, I will give you the benefit of the doubt on that matter since you seem reasonable enough."

Helarionas's eyes narrowed. "Indeed, but if I were to go back now, I would be denied marriage either way. If I must live in exile with Aleksandra, then that is what will happen. I will hand over my senatorial papers, hand over my army, hand over my land and writes to my personal fortune - I will not let go of Aleksandra, ever. I do not care for the power or prestige marrying one of Tagaris' daughter would give me, unlike so many others, I curry favor for her hand and her love, nothing more, and willingly give of myself for her, not of any personal gain."

Helarionas began pacing. "If you wish, you may come to my camp, along with any number of men you desire, to see Aleksandra Tagaris with your own eyes. If you wish, I will surrender my forces to you - but under no circumstances will I surrender Aleksandra, and by proxy, myself, to your command."

"Even if I accept your offer, where will you go? The Basileus and an army greater than mine will be arriving in short time and unless you accept my terms I cannot prevent him from pursuing you. Furthermore, I would be neglecting my duty by doing so." Markos sighted. "We have reached an impasse that I fear neither off will be able to cross."

Helarionas faced Markos with a look of grim determination. "Then I will face my fate and die. Better that I be dead, and Aleksandra allowed to mourn and move on, then for me to live and us to be so far away yet forever close - which will hurt her more, dear Markos?"

"That is not for me to say." Markos paused, shaking his head in resignation. "I salute your bravery Helarionas, there are few causes worthier than love I suppose. Nevertheless I am deeply saddened at the loss of life which will take place for something so intangible." After saluting his counterpart in a military fashion, Markos continues. "May God decide the better man when we next meet on the field of battle."

Helarionas bowed deeply. "I prefer to place my fate in my own hands Markos, and I hope you may do the same. I regret as much as you that men will die today over love, but would you have them die over greed instead? Tis least a more noble cause. I salute you, Lord ek Sinopis, and bid you best tidings upon the field of battle." Helarionas bows one last time before giving a quick, soundless signal to his men for them to follow him.

As Helarionas walked back towards his army, he did so with his back straight, a smile on his face, and a feeling of acceptance in his heart. Aleksandra will kill me when I get back to camp...I will never hear the end of it...

TheFlax

01-25-2009, 12:58

Coop written with YLC

Apulia, 1182

A few hours later...

Water is splashed upon the face of the unconscious Markos ek Sinopis, and as he stirs, he is hauled to his feet by two of Helarionas's bodyguards. "Oh, good, he lives. Helarionas will be pleased." Searching for the voice, Markos recognizes the voice from earlier, Chara, dressed in fully battlegear and looking smugly at Markos. "For a mere bureaucrat, you put up quite a fight, I am impressed. Now, if you will follow me, Lord Anargiros wishes to speak with you."

Without a word, Markos shuffles clumsily behind the woman, his expensive armor now teared or nonexistent in many places and covered in blood. Each steps seems harder than the last, yet he manages to stay upright in a slightly hunched position, dragging an injured leg.

Chara seems either to not care or is ignorant of it, and continues on in silence as the group finally makes it back to Helarionas's camp. There, the survivors from both armies are tended to, with both food, rest, medical attention, or in many sad cases, last rites. Markos' wavering attention is brought back by a sharp clearing of the throat by Chara. "M'lord, the command tent - Lord Anagiros awaits you inside."

Inside, Helarionas is speaking to his second in command and Lady Aleksandra sips tea off to one side in a most comfortable chair. "M'lord, if we head south from here, we may gain sanctuary amongst the Sicilians, and it will lead the Basileus farther away from the Venetian front - forcing him to choose."

Helarionas shook his head. "No, no, we must head north! See what assistance we can provide. Also, even if the Venetians are our enemies, there is likely priest among them that would love to-"

Chara yet again clears her throat, an action she has seemingly been growing tired of as lately. When Helarionas and his second turn to look, a warm smile crosses Helarionas's face. "Markos! Good to see you live! I feared you had died! Sit, drink! Chara, find him a physician, he is limping terribly! How are you good man?"

"What is this?" Markos croaks quizzically, his pleasant features now marred by a gruesome laceration across the left jawline. His sole visible eye, also on the left side of his face seems devoid of life, staring into nothingness as the other one is hidden behind a large amount of swelling. His light brown hair now caked in blood and sticking in disarray to his sweaty forehead.

Aleksandra gags on her tea as she caught sight of Markos and spits it out in pain. "Helarionas! Can you not see the poor man is injured! Help him!" Helarionas frowned as Aleksandra got up and lead Markos to her seat. "You are Markos I take it? Is there anything you would wish for right now?" Helarionas smiled at Markos. "Indeed, Aleksandra is right, you deserve whatever rest you can manage - I will have my chef cook you something and you may relax while we discuss your fate. It is poor of me not to treat my guests better."

The injured man sits down, still bewildered but too much in shock to show such emotions. Again, his voice, serious as always, comes out as a rasp. "Are you toying with me Helarionas? You have defeated me, there is nothing more to say save for me to ask you to end my life swiftly."

It is Helarionas' turn to look utterly bewildered. "Markos, what are you talking about, why on earth would I end your life? What point is there to that? I have no quarrel with you. No, I will have no more talk of killing, do not utter a word about it. Eat some food, drink some tea, and rest."

The loser takes a small sip from an offered goblet, his eye perpetually blank. "It's what I deserve is it not? I have brought so many to die today, should I not join them? What is to happen to me if you keep me alive? What purpose will THAT serve." He nearly spits the end of the sentence in disdain.

Helarionas and Aleksandra exchange glances with each other before Helarionas speaks tentatively. "Markos...you do not deserve death for this...if anything, you deserve rewarded. You did only what you saw was the best course of action in the face of a very stubborn man, and you loyal kept your oath to the Empire, and never wavered in your duty, and neither did your own men. You must be commended for your loyalty, honesty, steadfastness and determination, not executed for it."

"And I ask only that you that you return to the Empire and let those in it know of me and Aleksandra, and what my fiancee and I face, what we will do, for our love for each other."

Helarionas walks over and grabs a small stack of papers and hands them to Markos. "Here, these papers will get that fool of a captain on board those ships to transport you. The dead from this battle will go with you, and my army will escort you safely to them. There is enough salt in the ships cargo hold to preserve the bodies so that they make it. You can then set sail back to the Imperium with the rest of your surviving bodyguard, and tell our tale."

Markos grasps the bundle with a bloody hand, while taking another sip. "Perhaps you are the better man after all, Helarionas." While still gloomy, he regains some composure. "Very well, I will do what you ask. I pray that we never meet again, for that would mostly certain mean you have failed." With a wince, the injured man rises and then bows as best he can to the princess, his marred features contorting in a grimace of pain. "My lady." Without another word, Markos drags himself out of the tent and into the hands of the waiting physicians.

Ignoramus

02-06-2009, 02:43

Epirus, 1185 AD

"Mein lord Basileus, you must not embark on these long expeditions." scolded his close friend and companion, Philipp Hümmel, as the Basileus wearily removed his armour.

Turning to his Germanic companion, Ioannis could not but suppress a smile.

"You speak of resting, yet you yourself are but 10 years younger than I, and have journeyed across Mediterranean. No, I am not too old for campaign, though I do own that I detest lingering on those foul ships where scurvy lays low many a good man."

"At least you might consider residing at Constantinople, in the luxury and comfort of the Imperial Palace, than worry about a backwater province such as Epirus." shot back Hümmel.

"My dear German friend," responded Ioannis, "as you yourself know, one must do these things to secure the family's power. Your nephew - Wolfgang isn't it? - I hear has been forced to take the cross for trying to increase your family's holdings in Lorraine. I am forced to make these journeys in order to secure the power of the Basileus and my family. Whether in the end they kill me through scurvy, or an imperial cold, it is my duty."

flyd

02-12-2009, 07:03

Crete, 1185

Like every morning, Isaakios the Lazy was up early and walked with his wife along one of the beaches on Crete. He had enjoyed a peaceful existence since 1161, when he was left without a way to get his army off the island, and refused to leave without it. There was little to do, and he rather enjoyed it; he had not actually requested ships from any of the Megas Logothetes. The convoluted politics of the Empire made their convolutions without him, and he liked it that way. He walked along the beach without a care in the world. Cool wind, the sound of waves washing the beach, sparkling sea at sunrise, beautiful Chryse. He was, indeed, happy.

An eagle lofted into the air from a nearby cliff and caught Isaakios' attention. Eagles fascinated him, and he followed their flight whenever he saw them; they were important, they were the symbols of the Komneni family and the Empire as a whole. The eagle flew directly overhead and circled around Isaakios' position. Once, twice, three times. Three times; like the trinity. Isaakios watched intently as the eagle flew out to sea a short distance and swooped down to catch a fish. However, it misjudged its dive and hit the water at high speed. It came back to the surface, but it was wet and unable to take off. Isaakios watched it struggle for perhaps a quarter of an hour, and then it disappeared below the surface.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Isaakios murmured a lengthy, deep, and thoughtful murmur. "An inauspicious sign. Dark days are ahead. Dark, dark days."

Later that morning, Isaakios drafted a letter to the Megas Logothetes, immediately requesting a fleet to take his army from the island.

Ituralde

02-12-2009, 09:58

Nikitas sat in the privacy of his study within the large complex that made up the City Hall of Sinop. Sure he had the big audience chamber, but he preferred the relative comforts offered by his smaller study. It was his first visit to Sinop and much of the past few days had been spent dealing with the local magistrates. His uncle, yes he even thought of him as his uncle now, Pavlos had never been long in Sinop either, so the magistrates were rather used to governing themselves and while the greeting had been formal it was clear that they hadn't been eager to meet him. Well he wouldn't stay long.

He had tried to get a little grasp of the affairs, just out of general curiosity. It always paid off in the end to have knowledge about what was going on, but he had realized fast that the duties of a governor were mostly dull. No, the matters that interested him now were two reports in front of him. One was a detailed written account of a story that was on everyone's tongue, while the latter came directly from Constantinople. With a sigh he picked up the first again.

As he began reading he grimaced a little. There was little point in reading the whole thing as he knew the words anyway, but he made himself go on. It told of an encounter West of the City itself. Bandits had started plundering the lucrative land route between the Bosporus and Sinop and had grown in numbers over time. Until, one day, a Senator from Constantinople rode up to them and challenged their leader to step forward. As the leader refused passage and asked for a toll, the Senator pulled out his sword and beheaded the man cleanly. Shocked at the sight the bandits dispersed and were never seen again. That Senator was supposed to be Nikitas Moschos.

Sometimes Nikitas wished it had happened that way. He could only remember all too clearly the grisly sights of that day. Fighting in an actual battle had shown to be much less fun than what he had heard before. The fighting had been fierce and he had lost half of his men. All young fools that had followed him because they knew his uncle or had sensed opportunity. He had tried putting a stop to the story that praised his deeds, but now they just added his modesty along to his bravery, it was futile.

Groaning he pushed away the report and instead fingered the second parchment. Now this one was much more interesting. It informed him that for his recent bravery and as a token for the service of Pavlos Chrysovergos he was to be elevated into the Imperial family. The thing made him a grandchild of Basileus Ioannis himself of all things. Nikitas could only shake his head. It truly was hard to believe. He had not only fooled the men in this backwater town, it seems he had even fooled the Roman Empire itself. Shoving the papers away he gave a quick prayer of thanks to the skill of the man that had forged him the papers necessary to make him the nephew of Pavlos Chrysovergos. Who knows, maybe his uncle would even be proud of him one day.

ULC

02-12-2009, 10:12

1185, Jerusalem

Upon the path to Jerusalem, a man on foot lead a lovely woman on horseback towards the gleaming city. The man was unassuming, covered in a drab dusty brown cloak with a hood, one would easily take him for a mere peasant. The woman was just as clothed, a dreamy and hopeful look to her, her eyes and hair gleaming in the fading sunlight. It was she who spoke first.

"Helarionas...I know this is asking much of you...if you do not wish t-" The man leading the horse simply waved her off. "Do not worry yourself dearest, this is something I must do. All roads would have lead here, no matter the outcome."

The woman sighed and looked at Helarionas with warm but sad eyes. "You do not need to seek his approval...is mine not enough?" Helarionas did not reply, causing the woman to speak again. "Helarionas, please answer me I ne-" Helarionas shook his head. "Hush now love, we are upon the gates."

From above the gatehouse, passed the crenelations, the guard called out. "Who goes there!" Pulling back his hood, Helarionas stood proudly and with unwavering eyes looked at the guardsman. "I am Helarionas Anargiros, former Comes of Durazzo, come to speak with your Lord, Caesar Methodios, and submit myself to his judgment. Let him know that I await him, along with his daughter, outside the gates of the city."

"Stay where you are" the guard called from the battlements, then disappeared from view.

The man and woman stood beneath the walls, nervously waiting under the gaze of the men-at-arms whom they could glimpse upon the walls. Long minutes passed.

Suddenly, a loud clank resounded. The noise of a heavy chain rattling was heard and the gates began to open.

Once fully opened, a figure stepped out of the shadow into the light of the desert.

Though sporting a mane of white hair, there was no doubt that the man was a warrior, and a fearsome one at that, despite his age.

His face was a study in hardly repressed fury.

"Anargiros, I did not believe that such a foul individual would find courage enough to come and defy me beneath my own walls. And you have come alone ? Where is your army ?"

Stepping one step closer, Methodios seemed to notice the figure on the horse for the first time. Disbelief contorted his features.

"Aleksandra ?"

Aleksandra smiled warmly at her father, but there is slight reservation. "Hello father...it is good to see you after so long." Her eyes seem to carry worry as they steal a glance to Helarionas, who quickly bows before Methodios. "It is an honor to meet you Caesar Methodios. I have come to you, because of my own good conscience, and the words of your daughter. I have indeed come alone, with no army, no guard, and no weapons, not to defy you, but to be judged before you."

Aleksandra bites her lip at Helarionas's last words, hoping they would not be. She looks at her father pleadingly. "It is truth father, he holds no surprises - if anyone is armed, it is me, with his own sword."

"Aleksia, is that truly you ?" Methodios seemed on the verge of tears by setting eyes on his daughter. Running to the horse, he lifted his arms to her. Without a second thought, she took his hands, allowing him to take her down from the horse and embrace her. "I thought I would never see you again. Have I been so uncaring and unloving as a father that you had to run away ?"

As Helarionas waited patiently off to the side, Aleksandra hugged her father tightly, a single tear escaping. "Forgive an impatient little girl father. You have always loved us, and you have always treated my sisters and me well...but...what happened to poor Hypatia filled me with fear." Pulling back, Alekandra looks down at the ground, her voice filled with hesitance. "And I feared you would reject the man I love because of...because of actions that were not his own..." Aleksandra's gaze drifts up to Helarionas's, who bowed kindly in the two's direction.

A closer look of Helarionas revealed dark hair, grey eyes, pale skin and a distinctive, smug look to him, a look that belonged to a man long banished from the Empire.

Looking more closely to the man that had conquered the heart of his daughter and defied him for it, Methodios was reminded of a man he once knew... But that man had been banished, and would have been older than the man standing before him.

"Lord Anargiros, it seems we got started on the wrong foot... You seem to have conquered my daughter's heart... As you surely know from my actions in the past, the welfare and happiness of my children are of utmost importance to me, enough so that I now stand here defying an Empire for their sake... I will not judge you, nor condemn you... But be warned : should you deceive the faith and trust my daughter has put in you, there'll be nowhere to run and nowhere to hide for you..."

Helarionas seems utterly taken aback, and stunned silence follows as he tries to take in what Methodios has said. His eyes gaze into the distance and his lips move wordlessly. When he finally speaks it is a stutter. "Ex, excuse me Lord Ta, Tagaris? Forgive me..I, I, expected...more...I was expecting...something, but not this..."

Aleksandra looks over at Helarionas with a smug grin. "Look father, you've managed to turn my eloquent and brave fiancee into a mere stuttering fool." She quickly broke into laughter as Helarionas blushed deeply, who's eyes darted to the ground in shame. Aleksandra calmed herself as she walked over to Helarionas and gently lifted Helarionas's eyes level to hers. "It is time you told him, he should know, since he will be your father in law after all. You have nothing to hide from him, my dear Sergios."

The man who had been known as Helarionas Anargiros to the entire Imperium took a step back and turned to look at Methodios. "I am Sergios Echter ek Kallipoleos. You knew my father once - he is, was, Aleksander Echter ek Kallipoleos."

ULC

02-12-2009, 10:16

1188, Dalmatian Coast

Gerasimos was a grizzled veteran, having fought many battles, and many wars, and for many Princes, Dukes, Counts, and Kings. He was used to dealing with stressful situations where his life was constantly in danger, and he had developed the correct reflexes for it. He was also an astute man of war, and knew how to handle almost all aspects of it. However, politician he was not.

"YOU DID WHAT!"

Right now however, Gerasimos was in a battle that, for the first time, he was at a loss of how to even fight.

Gerasimos cleared his throat. "Forgive me Lord Anargiros, I had decided to take affirmative action in this case. We are low on men, and so I supposed to acquire more. We can neither fight the Venetians, nor the armies of Arintheos and Ammonathas at the same time, nevermind the small garrisons on the way though th-"

Sergios grabbed the nearest object, Aleksandra's tea tray, and heaved it at the Veteran who deftly sidestepped it. "What in Heavens name made you think I was going to attack ANYONE! I asked we take Measures to secure Markos's safety, those where my orders! I did not ask you to abandon the fleet, and to march upon Andreas! He is Asteri! He is Kalameteros's son-in-law! How dare you!" Sergios picked up another object, a chair this time, and threw it.

Gerasimos caught it and gently set it back down as an enraged Sergios began to search for something else to throw. Still with an unflinching gaze, Gerasimos continued. "My Lord, We cannot spare any men to Markos without waking our position. Tactically speaking, it would be easier to acquire an army and hand it over to Markos fr-"

This time the whole desk, maps, pens, figures, and plans, came sailing at Gerasimos, who ducked as it flew over and nailed a page entering the room. Sergios was to enraged however, to notice. "Tactics do not trump Politics! Nor do they trump morality! Where in gods name is Demetrios! How could you Gerasimos! I am not some-" Sergios's had reached the boiling point, and unable to complete express his frustration, broke into a fit of screaming as he smashed the final wooden chair in the room against the ground.

Silence pervaded the room as Sergios stopped to catch his breath. Wiping the spit from his mouth, he turned to Gerasimos. "It is not to late, send an envoy to the-" Gerasimos stiffened before hastily replying.

"I have already sent an envoy...detailing the plans..."

Aleksandra hurried to see Sergios, having finally finished with preparing the nights meal for the officers. She was being escorted by Demetrios, who had gone on the trip with them but had stayed behind with the ships when Aleksandra and Sergios went to Jerusalem. Aleksandra stole a glance at Demetrios - his hair was dark like his mothers, his eyes ocean blue like his fathers. But his face was hard, his features like etched stone. Aleksandra knew the man to be a warrior - utterly devoted to the cause of his master, and utterly devoted to his art.

Demetrios noticed the glance. "Something wrong, my Lady?"

Aleksandra shook her head. "No...it's, just that...Demetrios, do you hate Sergios?"

Demetrios remained impassive as he spoke. "No Lady Aleksandra, I do not hate my cousin. I cannot blame him for his fathers sins, and he is not his father. It would be wrong of me to do so."

Aleksandra remained unconvinced, but before she could question Demetrios further, Gerasimos stumbled out of the command tent, with Sergios screaming from within. "GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT! DAMMIT TO ALL HELL!" Aleksandra and Demetrios exchanged glances with the disheveled Gerasimos as he brushed past them hurriedly. Crashing sounds could be heard from within as Sergios further ransacked the command tent.

Aleksandra hurried inside to find a broken Sergios beating on what remained of the desk. Hurrying to his side, Aleksandra quickly held him close to her, pulling Sergios in as he cried upon her shoulder.

"Hush now...Sergios, what could possibly be so terrible that you would-"
"He is going to die, Markos will die, and it will be my fualt...and we are damned, damned are we all..."

Aleksandra looked quizzically at Sergios. "Your not making sense my love, what ever do you mean?"

Sergios refused to look Aleksandra in the eye. "Gerasimos...sent an envoy to Constantinople, to announce his intentions, as if they were my own. Now, there is no hope...were are damned Aleksandra...I cannot reach Markos in time...and all of the Senate sees me as...a power hungry fool..."

Demetrios was quick. "My Lord, certainly I can-" Sergios waved him off. "No...it is to late. There is nothing I can do...I will not have any of you die with me...Aleksandra you must leave, go with Demetrios and Chara to-" Aleksandra placed her finger tips upon Sergios's lips. "Hush, I will hear no such thing that would take me away from you. Do not be foolish, I will never leave your side, not even death will separate us. There is hope, there is always hope...we will save Markos, we will prevail, and we will stay true to ourselves."

Sergios nodded as Aleksandra lifted him up, and with Demetrios, led him out of the destroyed command tent.

Ignoramus

02-12-2009, 11:18

Dyracchium, Epirus, 1187

"The Basileus looks quite bad." commented a soldier standing on guard outside the Basileus' house to his companion.

"Yes; a nasty disease scurvy. Still, I am sure he will recover - after all, he is the Basileus, and they don't just let them die like that." responded the other soldier.

While the two were talking, a cloaked figure snuck past their careless gaze and entered the house.

Zim

02-14-2009, 10:44

A Task Accepted

Arintheos Voutoumatis' Army Camp, west of Thessaloniki, 1190:

There was a pall over the war camp of Arintheos Voutoumatis. Although the rebel Methodios Tagaris was dead, so was the beloved Basileus Ioannis Komnenos. Black flags hung around the entire camp. Arintheos had suspended the drills and marches he loved so much, but the soldiers were not spending their newly gained free time in merriment. Whether in recreation or their other daily duties, there was a muted air about them. There was none of the laughing and joviality that normally characterized the camp. Men went about their duties as if half asleep, making scarcely a sound.

When they were able to gather in groups they whispered. They whispered of the mysterious circumstance of the Basileus' death, when all his doctors had declared his recovery a certainty. They whispered of Tagaris' son declaration that he was Basileus and how the much more palatable alternative Adrinikos Komnenos would react. They whispered of the rebel Helarionas and the mysterious march of the madman Ioannis Erotikos as his lapdog Kousinos towards the capital. Mostly, they whispered of their fears regarding the current state of the Empire, and hopes that the size of the army would serve as a barrier to the chaos that was erupting throughout Imperial territory.

In the center of camp lay the tent of the army's leader Megas Logothetes Arintheos Voutoumatis. It was a small tent with two guards at its one entrance. The interior was austere, with a small desk covered with economic and military reports, a couple of chairs and small sleeping area in one corner. There Arintheos sat alone reading a recently delivered letter. An expression of shock came across his face as he read. After finishing Arintheos slowly placed the letter into a hidden pocket sewn into the inside of his tunic, stunned. It seemed the late Emperor had feared for the lives of his family, especially his young nephew Ioannis. Arintheos wouldn't have believed before there were conspiracies against the Komnenoi, who had brought the Empire to greatness. He had always accepted that loyalty to them as a trait of all but the lowest and most snakelike of Romans. However, with recent events...the rebellion, Senator Erotikos' silent march in the general direction of the capital and now this, the Emperor's death under suspicious circumstances....

A grim look on his face, Arintheos sent orders to his army to prepare to march. He would accept the charge given to him. Whatever happened and whatever the cost, no harm would befall the young Ioannis Komnenos.

KnightnDay

02-15-2009, 17:26

A messenger entered the tent of young Ammonathas.

Lord Kalameteros, a message from the province of Scupi.

Ammonathas was pleased to hear some news. I trust the province now under the governorship of our Megas Logothetes fares well.

Ammonathas read the small, hastily written document and suddenly looked troubled. He was this evening having his usual meal with Aleksios Bartosis, commander of the guard.

Ill news, Aleksios. It would seem that once again Markos ek Sinopis finds himself under difficult circumstances. He and his small band was last seen in the area east of Scupi where it has also been reported that rebel Eustace of Doncaster with over three hundred companions, rapidly approaches.

Aleksios seemed unconcerned. Does it matter much my lord? Ek Sinopis was a self-proclaimed rebel. Perhaps this would be a fitting end to his life, death at the hands of yet another rebel.

His lord was of a different opinion. The war is over my friend, and Markos is once again our countryman. And forget not that this man once defended Byzantine honor in battle. No, I cannot abandon him to his fate, and Scupi too for that matter. The small garrison there could not likely hold out and no reinforcements can be raised in time.

Ammonathas quickly looked at the map of the region posted in his tent.

Hmmm. I do not believe the soldiers traveling on foot would arrive in time to engage in battle… We travel light. Alert our cavalry, we move north at once. Those on foot will follow behind and make the best speed as they can.

In the hours that followed, the horsemen under Ammonathas quickly broke camp and departed, while the infantry and bowmen prepared themselves for the march.

A week later, the battle was fought outside Scupi. Eustace of Doncaster lay dead with his army and Kalameteros had won his first fight.

Overlooking the site, Ammonathas and Aleksios spoke once more.

Congratulations my lord, on your first victory.

Thank you Aleksios, but it has not come without cost. And we are now a farther distance from Constantinople where a much greater battle may yet loom. Well, we shall have to trust to providence that the city will be kept safe. And the Megas has other allies in the vicinity with no shortage of troops.

That may well be my lord, but tell me truly, do you think this was worth the price?

Ammonathas replied. This was done to protect the people of a threatened province and preserve our honor by quite possibly saving the life of a man who faithfully served the empire. If I were to have this choice a hundred times over, each time it would be the same. Now let us visit our wounded companions and honor our dead. They have sacrificed much more than we this day.

Scarcely had they proceeded a hundred yards, before yet another messenger had news for young Kalameteros.

My lord, I beg to inform you of the death of Markos Ek Sinopis. The circumstances of his end are unknown at this time.

Aleksios turned to his master. So, my lord, was this still worth the price?

Ammonathas hesitated briefly as he searched for an answer. I believe it to be. Regardless of the end, we acted in the only way that I know how. At least Scupi is safe. For the moment we must take comfort of that fact. Let us proceed.

Ignoramus

02-20-2009, 07:55

Constantinople, 1192

Ioannis glanced nervously over to his young wife, Theodora. Today they would march into Constantinople at the head of the first Roman legion in many centuries - Legio I "Thracia". Ioannis hoped this rather motley force would help restore order in the rioting metropolis.

As they approached the Golden Gate, a Komnenoi flag was waved over the battlements and the gate was flung open.

Immediately, the Roman horseman thundered through the gates to secure the safe passage of the legion through the city.

**************************************************************************************

Later that afternoon, Ioannis and his wife explored the Imperial Palace of Constantinople together.

As they sat down to dinner, Ioannis turned to Theodora.

"You don't hate me, do you?" he asked.

"No of course not." she responded quickly, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you are the wife of a man who has labelled your father and brother as traitors, cast off the authority of your brother, and who has nothing to boast about save his family lineage."

"But I love you, Ioannis, and even though our marriage was arranged by your late uncle, it mirrored my heart's wishes exactly."

Standing up, she moved to her husband's side.

"Come, let us take an early night - you will have much to organise in the morning.

KnightnDay

02-21-2009, 00:20

At a roadside inn and tavern, 25 miles north of the Magnaura, the messenger for Ammonathas, Iustinos and his traveling companion Antonios discussed what had recently transpired.

"I tell you Antonios, I truly could not believe the contents of the sealed letter that Lord Kalameteros had me read to the senate. He had no qualms with any Roman senator. What reason would he have for declaring war? And Bucharest of all places, I thought his were concerns were with Greece?? This is most troubling."

His companion appeared ill at ease. "Yes, well we will no doubt learn more when the time comes. Sleep now my friend Iustinos, we can discuss more on our travels tomorrow. I think I shall retire as well, good night."

With that, the companion left Iustinos' room. But then rather oddly, rather than returning to his own room, Antonios made his way down stairs to the tavern, and seated himself in a dimly lit area, asking for wine. A look of nervous anticipation, he glanced about the room.

Half an hour passed, when two men in non-descript attire entered the same tavern and made their way to the table where Antonios was seated.

"Where have you been?"

"Patience my friend, we understand you fulfilled your part of the bargain and we now have your reward for your most valuable service to us." With that a small pouch was passed to the eager Antonios. He eagerly opened it to inspect the contents. Counting the gold coins quickly, he realized something was amiss.

"What is this? This is only half of what you promised. Don’t you realize if I’m found out, they’ll hang me from the nearest tree? The man who was carrying the original message almost awoke when I replaced the letter of Kalameteros with yours the night before. And it was only by a miracle that I was able to intercept the one which he sent to that Sergios…"

"You will get the remainder once that Megas Voutoumis, or whatever his name is, has killed Kalameteros in battle, and destroyed his army! Once that is done, our faction will have gained the time it needs to regroup. In the meantime, I suggest you prepare your story."

"What story are you talking about?" responded a confused Antonios.

"That messenger cannot be allowed to report back to Kalameteros on what has taken place. Armando, take care of that won’t you?"

With that, one of the Venetian agents briefly flashed a small dagger and with a wide grin departed the table, making his way up the stairs. Antonios was in a state of panic.

"Now as to your story, you were accosted by thieves and the messenger was killed. You barely escaped with your life. I trust you will have time to develop the details during your trip back to your camp…."

Scarcely had he finished when the front door of the tavern flew open. A short, gaunt man in Italian dress made his way inside the tavern. Anyone could tell he appeared near exhaustion. After a short moment scanning the room, he made his way directly to the table.

"Paulo, what the hell are you doing here? You were supposed to wait…"

"I could not wait an instant. There is important news for you. The Byzantine Megas did move towards Sofia as we hoped, but Kalameteros turned south towards Scupi, he did not move in the same direction of Sofia as we expected him to."

"Damn! So his army is intact and the forces of the Doge remain at risk?"

"No no, that is not the only news I bring! That fool Kalameteros left a rear guard behind him. Their Megas intercepted them and convinced them to disband, saying they were betraying their own people! Over four hundred and fifty men that they cannot replace have been eliminated."

"Ha Ha Ha Ha! Excellent! Magnifico! With that the Venetian reached into his pocket and pulled out a second pouch laden with coin, tossing it to Antonios. Here, you’ve earned your full reward. I trust you will be able to pay off those debts now, with a little something left over, eh? Now, Armando should be about done with his work, I suggest you get back on your journey without delay. Our business here is done."

With that, the two cohorts, most pleased with their success, made a quick departure. Moments later, Armando was down the stairs and noting Antonios still seated and more frantic than before, quietly moved to the table.

"You still here my friend? I suggest that you not linger long. The body of your associate will be discovered soon enough." And with that, the assassin Armando too made his way out the door of the tavern.

Antonios needed no more convincing. Covering himself with his cloak, he headed for the door, wondering how he would explain himself on return to camp. Over four hundred men had been dispersed to the winds without a sword raised in anger. It was a brilliant, bloodless Venetian victory over Ammonathas who only now was wondering what had become of the men he had left behind.