Stories Thread

[_Tristan_]

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.



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_]

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]

((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]

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]

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]

East of Nicaea 1089

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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.

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_]

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…”

******

[TheFlax]

((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]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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_]

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…”

******

[TheFlax]

((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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

Antioch 1098

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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

[_Tristan_]

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]

Adana, 1110

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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]

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."