Stories Thread

[_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.