Chapter 566: Coup d’etat!
Demetrios Palaiologos was having his usual cup of early morning wine, gazing at the city he now owns right outside the balcony of his room.
After a decade of urbanisation and redevelopment, the city of Constantinople can now proudly call herself a city once again, not a village full of huts and crop fields protected by a magnificent wall. The population of the city has rose back to a staggering ninety thousand men, with numerous infrastructures left by their Roman predecessors repaired and reactivated, just like the chain of Cisterns supplying the citizens with fresh flows of filtered water on a daily basis. New buildings are raised with the fresh new investments from the various merchant city states, especially in the Venetian and Genoese quarters. Demetrios has leased a large piece of land to the Venetians and Genoese for an infinite amount of time in exchange for their financial and diplomatic support in the power struggles adding on to their already enlarged territories, and now these Lombards are too helping him to build his city, in their quarters, although no Roman is allowed to enter without permission.
Including Demetrios himself.
Demetrios’ face turned moody upon thinking of this, he could nearly think of that Venetian delegate’s pitiful face when that man was waving his paper in front of him yelling ’Comply or embargo!’.
These Lombards will pay their price one day, of course, when he, Demetrios, crash his brother and become the true owner of Nova Roma, then he would lead his troops to conquer all of Thrace, followed by Bulgaria, Anatolia, and he would make Antonius De’Ricci submit before him, making him be his most loyal general. If a simple headed Lombard pirate can start with a city and conquer a kingdom by himself, there is no reason why he, Demetrios Palaiologos, the bearer of the royal blood, born in the purple, master of the Roman Legacy cannot achieve the same thing.
Talking about the army...
"What is Giovanni Giustiniani doing today?" Demetrios asked his retinue.
"Your highness, Giovanni Giustiniani went on a offensive operation yesterday with roughly two hundred troops out of the city on a supposed Ottoman outpost, and he lost a finger amidst the heavy fighting."
"Is the source of information reliable?"
"Yes, your highness, my brother saw with his very own eyes that the man was carried back into city on a donkey, with a bandage around his hand tainted red with blood."
"I see." Demetrios nodded his head, but suddenly turned again as he seems to have remembered something. "Remember, brother is not reliable!"
"Yes, yes your highness." The retinue hurriedly bowed down and answered. "I shall go to the camp myself and see with my very own eyes."
"Go now!" Demetrios waved impatiently. "And bring some gifts! Giovanni Giustiniani is important to me!"
A sudden gust of wind came blowing in Demetrios’ direction, bringing in some newly arrived sands from Anatolia that went into his eyes. The regent of the mighty city went back to his seat and plunged his arse down scratching his eyes while his servants closed the doors of the balcony.
Meanwhile just right beneath them, under the cover of the palace walls, a group of troopers, fully equipped with short blades and light armours, move swiftly under the cover of the shadows. These men maneuverer around the city using the various channels and sewages connected to the Cistern. Demetrios do have men guarding the Cistern of course, but those men have already been bribed by George Sphrantzes to keep their eyes closed.
The ones who achieve his goals via means of bribing must always beware that his men can be bribed by his opponents to achieve the same goals.
Two hundred men, in three groups, rapidly approached the palace from three different directions.
They are already spotted at a roughly two-hundred-meter distance to the palace gate, but the residents and patrols all either kept their mouth shut or got on their feet. The citizens of Constantinople are already used to such activities in the span of their life, with each person at least living across three coups in their entire life span.
Giovanni is among these men, he has recovered fast indeed, regaining the ability to command a battle just after one day. Though that mixture of dense blood and yellow exudate on that bandage with a growing stinky smell tells people another story.
The two hundred men knocked open the gate to the palace and swarmed into the courtyard, occupying every single corner yelling and interrogating every single person they encounter on the whereabouts of the traitor of the state. Some agreed to talk, while some denied the requests of these intruders, and the outcomes for them is simple, it just takes one single strike across the neck to satisfy them of their last wishes of keeping their mouth shut forever. Some, actually many troopers took the chance to let off their greed and take in whatever item that seems precious into their sacks, Giovanni did not make any comment on this.
Demetrios has already realised what is going on, he locked himself up in his wardrobe with the double headed sceptre left to him by his deceased brother Constantine, only to be dragged out of the wardrobe by the troopers like a dead dog, thrown onto the ground and getting laughed at by every person on the scene. Demetrios found himself no where to hide, he tried to run towards ne corner, only to be blocked by a trooper, he then tried to run towards another corner, and got pushed off onto the ground. A huge sense of shame occupied Demetrios’ head, as he realised that these men, whom he once considered to be degenerates out of degenerates, low lives out of low lives, peasants whom he would never even look upon last time, are now jeering at him, as if he is a joker.
"Shut it! Shut up! You maggots!" Demetrios got up from the ground with a pair of blood shot eyes and yelled towards the men in the life. "I! I am Demetrios Palaiologos! I am the emperor! I am the king! I am the autocrat and imperator of all Romans! Who gave you, these bunch of low lives the guts and wits to treat me like this!"
The room gradually quietened down, but these men are still here, watching over the regent with their arms crossed before their chests with a jeering glee on their faces, one man went up to Demetrios, grabbed Demetrios by his collars, and lifted him again with ease.
It is only now does Demetrios finally feel threatened and frightened by these men as he finally realised the situation he is in, his entire life is now dependant on the mercy of these men, and what particularly is their commander up to.
The soldier threw the regent onto the ground like how he handles a piece of garbage, then went out of the room in big steps, and shouted downstairs. "Commander! We found Demetrios Palaiologos!"
Demetrios did not bother to give a damn about that growing pain in his back, got up from the ground once again wishing to see with his very own eyes on who is the commander of this coup, for he will now who to curse and execrate when he goes to hell.
In fact, he already knows the answer to the question. No one, not even him or Thomas, has the ability to master an entire army fully equipped with armours and blades in such a short period of time evading his heavy surveillance, so there can only be one man in the city who can command an army like this, that is –
- The Megas stratopedarches appointed by emperor Constantine himself, newly promoted Strategos of Thrake and Macedonia, the sole controller of the army, Giovanni Giustiniani.
And there Giovanni is, stepping right into the room fully equipped with his gears, the soldiers automatically cleared a path saluting their beloved commander, their commander made a brief salute back and went to the front of the regent in big steps staring right into his eyes.
The regent, Demetrios, gulped but did not know what to say. He wanted to make a curse to show that he is powerful, but his wits has vanished into thin air after being tossed on the hard ground breaking his psychological backbones that made his pride. He wants to say a few words of appeasement but thanks God his brains is still functioning at least, for he still remembers that he is the de facto regent of the state, and the brother of the emperor who made the commander what he is today. He wants to remain speechless to convey a silent protest, but his trembling legs have already expressed his true feelings.
In the end Giovanni Giustiniani solved the dilemma for him, he spoke first.
"Your highness." Giovanni bowed slightly before his de jure political master. "I am sorry for my men’s wrong doings today."
