I feel quite dumb -- I wasn't able to find the Mead guild a few of you suggested. Neither did I have much success with my own webspace, although I did sign up for yahoo hosting. A friend of mine, a programmer, promised to help me later today. Until then, I can't post any screenshots or the replay of the battle (the story of which will be told in the next chapter). Formatting also continues to be awful.

Here is Chapter 2. Hopefully it will be somewhat enjoyable. I am off to watch the Thunder over Louisville air show. Until later ...

Chapter 2: The Cross Bearers:

The emperor walked briskly up the hill. His bodyguards could barely keep up with him, wondering how a man in his 40s can still walk, let alone tire them up the steep grade. “My emperor,” grinned one of the bodyguards, “you are like a stallion this morning. Is Gergana your source of energy?” The rest chuckled, merrily picturing the exhilarating body of Gergana, the olive-skinned Bulgarian beauty, who was now a mistress to Alexius.

The emperor turned and joined in the chuckle. He liked the young Kataphraktoi – son of Georgius – who, like the rest of his bodyguards was hand-picked for his bravery and dedication to his master. “Yes, my dear friends,” the emperor wanted to shout, “I feel completely reborn. Gergana has fueled my passion for something I thought I had lost 20 years ago.” He said out loud, “I feel like Pygmalion on that day when he first kissed his statue.”

“Who is Pygmalion, my lord?” asked one of the bodyguards, “Oh, is he the new actor in the Greek theatre that has taken Constantinople by storm? My mother wrote me that she saw him in a farce this last weekend, called ‘You are fired,’ or something vulgar like this.”

Alexius smiled. The smile of good-natured intellectual superiority one feels towards a toddler’s blunder. “No, my friend, Pygmalion is not an actor. He was a sculptor that lived a long, long time ago in these lands, when the Greeks were the only civilization known to mankind. Back then pagan gods ruled the land. One day the goddess Venice, outraged by the lack of respect from Propoetides, turned those women into prostituting in public. When Pygmalion saw the wicked lives of these wretched women he was revolted by the faults of the female nature and vowed to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. Being a master sculptor, he carved a female body from stone instead. It was an ivory statue, so petite and fragile, so marvelous and lively, that it created a mysterious aura of being alive. It was the most beautiful form a female body ever was in. Pygmalion fell madly in love with her and …”

“… and he actually went mad and wedded the poor stone. Let’s hope he didn’t fornicate or otherwise abuse that cold and beautiful stone.” It was Georgius, of course, who stood atop of the hill and disapprovingly looked at the emperor. “My lord, the bishop will be rather unhappy that you are telling this horrible story to our youth. Very demoralizing it is.”

“Georgius, what a surprise to see you during my morning walk. I hope you didn’t roll out of bed just to give us a speech on morality, although you are certainly the expert.” Alexius and his guards chuckled. They knew that Georgius was quite an accomplished orator and had Aristotle-like passion for debate. He studied at the infamous Constantinople academy; the same academy that counted among its alumni such people of greatness like Cyril and Methodius, the creators of the Glagolitic alphabet (although there were still many that contained they created the Cyrillic alphabet instead). The alphabet, written in Bulgaria in the mid 9th century, swept north through the steppes and west through central Europe becoming the basis for the written world of many peoples, like the Bulgarians, Moldovans, Croatians, Serbians, and Kievans, among many others.

“No, my lord, I have urgent news for you. An emissary of the French has come to request passage for their First Crusade into the Holy land.”

“Crusade? What a noble name for a bunch of gold diggers bored to tears in their own lands. We will not let them pass, as they will ravage and rampage our villages and towns that they pass through.”

“Err, my lord, may I have a word with you,” said Georgius nodding to the emperor to follow him. His face was serious, even worried, which was quite unusual for this man who regularly parted his opponents from their money while playing cards. The emperor followed him.

Once there was a safe distance between them and the bodyguards, Georgius stopped and started whispering rapidly in the emperor’s ear.

“My lord, the crusader army is over 800-man strong. Half of the army is made of royal knights. Their armor is thick and impenetrable and covers their whole body, and that of their horses. When they gallop the thunder shatters the earth, causing walls to tumble and men to run in fear. It is a fearful sight, one that no man, regardless of his valor and bravery, can withstand. We cannot refuse. Our own garrison is mere 400-men strong, men that have grown used to peace and easy life.”

The emperor listened silently and intently. He has heard some distant rumors of such royal knights in far away lands, but hasn’t given it much thought that one days those same knights will be knocking down on his own door. The thought seemed incredible. Yet, he didn’t doubt Georgius. He was always well informed.

It was the year of the Lord 1104. Some dozen years ago Byzantium was fighting for its existence. Enemies had surrounded it, good generals and leaders were hard to come by and the empire and economy were in decay. “So much has changed, since then,” the emperor thought. “Kiev and Hungary are my allies. Two of my daughters were married into the Tzar’s family. Kingdoms from around the world try to outmaneuver themselves to gain my alliance, although I rarely agree to it but to trusted friends. Byzantium had thrice reached highest levels of technological excellence, if you listen to the man of science, although frankly I never understood what they meant by this. True, most lands once ruled by proud, independent people were now parts of large empires. Georgia and Moldovia were conquered by the Kievans; Poland and Hungary were expanding in the steppes. The Egyptians took Lesser Armenia – a slap on the face of the Turks, who delivered their own backhand to the Egyptians by conquering Syria. The strangest of all was the disappearance in 1094 of Denmark, a once mighty nation of savage Vikings and powerful magic.

The emperor turned his gaze to the rolling green hills below. The landscape was so serene, almost seemed surreal. It was like that Pygmalion statue that was alive, or not alive, that was so human, yet was made entirely from stone, that was … “Stop dreaming,” the nagging internal voice was back, “you have a decision to make You are an emperor, heavens, stop acting like the man in love with the female body or history Are you going to let the crusaders through or not?”

“Do I have a choice?” the emperor asked the voice smiling.

Epilogue to Chapter 2:

The First Crusade was followed the next year by a second one, this time from Britain. Another powerful army rolled through the Byzantine landscape made of strange, bearded savages on enormous horses that looked more like black dragons created and bread for one purpose in mind: to kill. Though neither villagers nor town folk liked these new giants, they were happy to see them as their journey took them south, towards the evil lands of the Turks. These armies over-run and ravaged the Turks, and soon Antioch became French and Tripoli became British. If offers from the Truks for an alliance were conspicuously missing in the years past, they became frequent now that these men appeared.

The first two crusades were quickly followed by another three, from likes of HRE, Poland and the Italians, but those were of less stature and faltered after meeting with the prepared Turkish hordes. A dozen years later, the regrouped Muslims poured back into the Christian world. Grenada fell. Then Tripoli fell. Large Turk forces began amassing on Byzantium’s own borders.

Alarmed first by the appearance of the crusaders, Alexius had begun his own version of the Marcian army reforms, upgrading the spear units first with superior armor then, just last year, with spear-bearing elite, professional units known as feudal sergeants. Archers were also undergoing an upgrade, with regular archer and Trebizond archer units being replaced with Bulgarian brigands. The training of these units was more rigorous, and many began showing the leadership qualities so necessary for successful governors and military commanders.

It was at this very moment, that the attack came. An attack that was so utterly unexpected, so well-timed and so forceful that it changed the history of the land. Probably forever. The story of the attack shall be told in Chapter 3.