Stories Thread

[ULC]

1188, Dalmatian Coast

Gerasimos was a grizzled veteran, having fought many battles, and many wars, and for many Princes, Dukes, Counts, and Kings. He was used to dealing with stressful situations where his life was constantly in danger, and he had developed the correct reflexes for it. He was also an astute man of war, and knew how to handle almost all aspects of it. However, politician he was not.

"YOU DID WHAT!"

Right now however, Gerasimos was in a battle that, for the first time, he was at a loss of how to even fight.

Gerasimos cleared his throat. "Forgive me Lord Anargiros, I had decided to take affirmative action in this case. We are low on men, and so I supposed to acquire more. We can neither fight the Venetians, nor the armies of Arintheos and Ammonathas at the same time, nevermind the small garrisons on the way though th-"

Sergios grabbed the nearest object, Aleksandra's tea tray, and heaved it at the Veteran who deftly sidestepped it. "What in Heavens name made you think I was going to attack ANYONE! I asked we take Measures to secure Markos's safety, those where my orders! I did not ask you to abandon the fleet, and to march upon Andreas! He is Asteri! He is Kalameteros's son-in-law! How dare you!" Sergios picked up another object, a chair this time, and threw it.

Gerasimos caught it and gently set it back down as an enraged Sergios began to search for something else to throw. Still with an unflinching gaze, Gerasimos continued. "My Lord, We cannot spare any men to Markos without waking our position. Tactically speaking, it would be easier to acquire an army and hand it over to Markos fr-"

This time the whole desk, maps, pens, figures, and plans, came sailing at Gerasimos, who ducked as it flew over and nailed a page entering the room. Sergios was to enraged however, to notice. "Tactics do not trump Politics! Nor do they trump morality! Where in gods name is Demetrios! How could you Gerasimos! I am not some-" Sergios's had reached the boiling point, and unable to complete express his frustration, broke into a fit of screaming as he smashed the final wooden chair in the room against the ground.

Silence pervaded the room as Sergios stopped to catch his breath. Wiping the spit from his mouth, he turned to Gerasimos. "It is not to late, send an envoy to the-" Gerasimos stiffened before hastily replying.

"I have already sent an envoy...detailing the plans..."

Aleksandra hurried to see Sergios, having finally finished with preparing the nights meal for the officers. She was being escorted by Demetrios, who had gone on the trip with them but had stayed behind with the ships when Aleksandra and Sergios went to Jerusalem. Aleksandra stole a glance at Demetrios - his hair was dark like his mothers, his eyes ocean blue like his fathers. But his face was hard, his features like etched stone. Aleksandra knew the man to be a warrior - utterly devoted to the cause of his master, and utterly devoted to his art.

Demetrios noticed the glance. "Something wrong, my Lady?"

Aleksandra shook her head. "No...it's, just that...Demetrios, do you hate Sergios?"

Demetrios remained impassive as he spoke. "No Lady Aleksandra, I do not hate my cousin. I cannot blame him for his fathers sins, and he is not his father. It would be wrong of me to do so."

Aleksandra remained unconvinced, but before she could question Demetrios further, Gerasimos stumbled out of the command tent, with Sergios screaming from within. "GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT! DAMMIT TO ALL HELL!" Aleksandra and Demetrios exchanged glances with the disheveled Gerasimos as he brushed past them hurriedly. Crashing sounds could be heard from within as Sergios further ransacked the command tent.

Aleksandra hurried inside to find a broken Sergios beating on what remained of the desk. Hurrying to his side, Aleksandra quickly held him close to her, pulling Sergios in as he cried upon her shoulder.

"Hush now...Sergios, what could possibly be so terrible that you would-"
"He is going to die, Markos will die, and it will be my fualt...and we are damned, damned are we all..."

Aleksandra looked quizzically at Sergios. "Your not making sense my love, what ever do you mean?"

Sergios refused to look Aleksandra in the eye. "Gerasimos...sent an envoy to Constantinople, to announce his intentions, as if they were my own. Now, there is no hope...were are damned Aleksandra...I cannot reach Markos in time...and all of the Senate sees me as...a power hungry fool..."

Demetrios was quick. "My Lord, certainly I can-" Sergios waved him off. "No...it is to late. There is nothing I can do...I will not have any of you die with me...Aleksandra you must leave, go with Demetrios and Chara to-" Aleksandra placed her finger tips upon Sergios's lips. "Hush, I will hear no such thing that would take me away from you. Do not be foolish, I will never leave your side, not even death will separate us. There is hope, there is always hope...we will save Markos, we will prevail, and we will stay true to ourselves."

Sergios nodded as Aleksandra lifted him up, and with Demetrios, led him out of the destroyed command tent.

[Ignoramus]

Dyracchium, Epirus, 1187

"The Basileus looks quite bad." commented a soldier standing on guard outside the Basileus' house to his companion.

"Yes; a nasty disease scurvy. Still, I am sure he will recover - after all, he is the Basileus, and they don't just let them die like that." responded the other soldier.

While the two were talking, a cloaked figure snuck past their careless gaze and entered the house.

[Zim]

A Task Accepted

Arintheos Voutoumatis' Army Camp, west of Thessaloniki, 1190:

There was a pall over the war camp of Arintheos Voutoumatis. Although the rebel Methodios Tagaris was dead, so was the beloved Basileus Ioannis Komnenos. Black flags hung around the entire camp. Arintheos had suspended the drills and marches he loved so much, but the soldiers were not spending their newly gained free time in merriment. Whether in recreation or their other daily duties, there was a muted air about them. There was none of the laughing and joviality that normally characterized the camp. Men went about their duties as if half asleep, making scarcely a sound.

When they were able to gather in groups they whispered. They whispered of the mysterious circumstance of the Basileus' death, when all his doctors had declared his recovery a certainty. They whispered of Tagaris' son declaration that he was Basileus and how the much more palatable alternative Adrinikos Komnenos would react. They whispered of the rebel Helarionas and the mysterious march of the madman Ioannis Erotikos as his lapdog Kousinos towards the capital. Mostly, they whispered of their fears regarding the current state of the Empire, and hopes that the size of the army would serve as a barrier to the chaos that was erupting throughout Imperial territory.

In the center of camp lay the tent of the army's leader Megas Logothetes Arintheos Voutoumatis. It was a small tent with two guards at its one entrance. The interior was austere, with a small desk covered with economic and military reports, a couple of chairs and small sleeping area in one corner. There Arintheos sat alone reading a recently delivered letter. An expression of shock came across his face as he read. After finishing Arintheos slowly placed the letter into a hidden pocket sewn into the inside of his tunic, stunned. It seemed the late Emperor had feared for the lives of his family, especially his young nephew Ioannis. Arintheos wouldn't have believed before there were conspiracies against the Komnenoi, who had brought the Empire to greatness. He had always accepted that loyalty to them as a trait of all but the lowest and most snakelike of Romans. However, with recent events...the rebellion, Senator Erotikos' silent march in the general direction of the capital and now this, the Emperor's death under suspicious circumstances....

A grim look on his face, Arintheos sent orders to his army to prepare to march. He would accept the charge given to him. Whatever happened and whatever the cost, no harm would befall the young Ioannis Komnenos.

[KnightnDay]

A messenger entered the tent of young Ammonathas.

Lord Kalameteros, a message from the province of Scupi.

Ammonathas was pleased to hear some news. I trust the province now under the governorship of our Megas Logothetes fares well.

Ammonathas read the small, hastily written document and suddenly looked troubled. He was this evening having his usual meal with Aleksios Bartosis, commander of the guard.

Ill news, Aleksios. It would seem that once again Markos ek Sinopis finds himself under difficult circumstances. He and his small band was last seen in the area east of Scupi where it has also been reported that rebel Eustace of Doncaster with over three hundred companions, rapidly approaches.

Aleksios seemed unconcerned. Does it matter much my lord? Ek Sinopis was a self-proclaimed rebel. Perhaps this would be a fitting end to his life, death at the hands of yet another rebel.

His lord was of a different opinion. The war is over my friend, and Markos is once again our countryman. And forget not that this man once defended Byzantine honor in battle. No, I cannot abandon him to his fate, and Scupi too for that matter. The small garrison there could not likely hold out and no reinforcements can be raised in time.

Ammonathas quickly looked at the map of the region posted in his tent.

Hmmm. I do not believe the soldiers traveling on foot would arrive in time to engage in battle… We travel light. Alert our cavalry, we move north at once. Those on foot will follow behind and make the best speed as they can.

In the hours that followed, the horsemen under Ammonathas quickly broke camp and departed, while the infantry and bowmen prepared themselves for the march.

A week later, the battle was fought outside Scupi. Eustace of Doncaster lay dead with his army and Kalameteros had won his first fight.

Overlooking the site, Ammonathas and Aleksios spoke once more.

Congratulations my lord, on your first victory.

Thank you Aleksios, but it has not come without cost. And we are now a farther distance from Constantinople where a much greater battle may yet loom. Well, we shall have to trust to providence that the city will be kept safe. And the Megas has other allies in the vicinity with no shortage of troops.

That may well be my lord, but tell me truly, do you think this was worth the price?

Ammonathas replied. This was done to protect the people of a threatened province and preserve our honor by quite possibly saving the life of a man who faithfully served the empire. If I were to have this choice a hundred times over, each time it would be the same. Now let us visit our wounded companions and honor our dead. They have sacrificed much more than we this day.

Scarcely had they proceeded a hundred yards, before yet another messenger had news for young Kalameteros.

My lord, I beg to inform you of the death of Markos Ek Sinopis. The circumstances of his end are unknown at this time.

Aleksios turned to his master. So, my lord, was this still worth the price?

Ammonathas hesitated briefly as he searched for an answer. I believe it to be. Regardless of the end, we acted in the only way that I know how. At least Scupi is safe. For the moment we must take comfort of that fact. Let us proceed.

[Ignoramus]

Constantinople, 1192

Ioannis glanced nervously over to his young wife, Theodora. Today they would march into Constantinople at the head of the first Roman legion in many centuries - Legio I "Thracia". Ioannis hoped this rather motley force would help restore order in the rioting metropolis.

As they approached the Golden Gate, a Komnenoi flag was waved over the battlements and the gate was flung open.

Immediately, the Roman horseman thundered through the gates to secure the safe passage of the legion through the city.

**************************************************************************************

Later that afternoon, Ioannis and his wife explored the Imperial Palace of Constantinople together.

As they sat down to dinner, Ioannis turned to Theodora.

"You don't hate me, do you?" he asked.

"No of course not." she responded quickly, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you are the wife of a man who has labelled your father and brother as traitors, cast off the authority of your brother, and who has nothing to boast about save his family lineage."

"But I love you, Ioannis, and even though our marriage was arranged by your late uncle, it mirrored my heart's wishes exactly."

Standing up, she moved to her husband's side.

"Come, let us take an early night - you will have much to organise in the morning.

[KnightnDay]

At a roadside inn and tavern, 25 miles north of the Magnaura, the messenger for Ammonathas, Iustinos and his traveling companion Antonios discussed what had recently transpired.

"I tell you Antonios, I truly could not believe the contents of the sealed letter that Lord Kalameteros had me read to the senate. He had no qualms with any Roman senator. What reason would he have for declaring war? And Bucharest of all places, I thought his were concerns were with Greece?? This is most troubling."

His companion appeared ill at ease. "Yes, well we will no doubt learn more when the time comes. Sleep now my friend Iustinos, we can discuss more on our travels tomorrow. I think I shall retire as well, good night."

With that, the companion left Iustinos' room. But then rather oddly, rather than returning to his own room, Antonios made his way down stairs to the tavern, and seated himself in a dimly lit area, asking for wine. A look of nervous anticipation, he glanced about the room.

Half an hour passed, when two men in non-descript attire entered the same tavern and made their way to the table where Antonios was seated.

"Where have you been?"

"Patience my friend, we understand you fulfilled your part of the bargain and we now have your reward for your most valuable service to us." With that a small pouch was passed to the eager Antonios. He eagerly opened it to inspect the contents. Counting the gold coins quickly, he realized something was amiss.

"What is this? This is only half of what you promised. Don’t you realize if I’m found out, they’ll hang me from the nearest tree? The man who was carrying the original message almost awoke when I replaced the letter of Kalameteros with yours the night before. And it was only by a miracle that I was able to intercept the one which he sent to that Sergios…"

"You will get the remainder once that Megas Voutoumis, or whatever his name is, has killed Kalameteros in battle, and destroyed his army! Once that is done, our faction will have gained the time it needs to regroup. In the meantime, I suggest you prepare your story."

"What story are you talking about?" responded a confused Antonios.

"That messenger cannot be allowed to report back to Kalameteros on what has taken place. Armando, take care of that won’t you?"

With that, one of the Venetian agents briefly flashed a small dagger and with a wide grin departed the table, making his way up the stairs. Antonios was in a state of panic.

"Now as to your story, you were accosted by thieves and the messenger was killed. You barely escaped with your life. I trust you will have time to develop the details during your trip back to your camp…."

Scarcely had he finished when the front door of the tavern flew open. A short, gaunt man in Italian dress made his way inside the tavern. Anyone could tell he appeared near exhaustion. After a short moment scanning the room, he made his way directly to the table.

"Paulo, what the hell are you doing here? You were supposed to wait…"

"I could not wait an instant. There is important news for you. The Byzantine Megas did move towards Sofia as we hoped, but Kalameteros turned south towards Scupi, he did not move in the same direction of Sofia as we expected him to."

"Damn! So his army is intact and the forces of the Doge remain at risk?"

"No no, that is not the only news I bring! That fool Kalameteros left a rear guard behind him. Their Megas intercepted them and convinced them to disband, saying they were betraying their own people! Over four hundred and fifty men that they cannot replace have been eliminated."

"Ha Ha Ha Ha! Excellent! Magnifico! With that the Venetian reached into his pocket and pulled out a second pouch laden with coin, tossing it to Antonios. Here, you’ve earned your full reward. I trust you will be able to pay off those debts now, with a little something left over, eh? Now, Armando should be about done with his work, I suggest you get back on your journey without delay. Our business here is done."

With that, the two cohorts, most pleased with their success, made a quick departure. Moments later, Armando was down the stairs and noting Antonios still seated and more frantic than before, quietly moved to the table.

"You still here my friend? I suggest that you not linger long. The body of your associate will be discovered soon enough." And with that, the assassin Armando too made his way out the door of the tavern.

Antonios needed no more convincing. Covering himself with his cloak, he headed for the door, wondering how he would explain himself on return to camp. Over four hundred men had been dispersed to the winds without a sword raised in anger. It was a brilliant, bloodless Venetian victory over Ammonathas who only now was wondering what had become of the men he had left behind.