Chapter 630: Requiem
" Pie Iesu Domine,
Dona eis requiem. Amen."
- Requiem Mass
The winter winds howled through Constantinople, carrying an icy chill that bit into the bones of men standing resolute against the season’s harshness.
The winter winds howled through Constantinople, carrying an icy chill that bit into the bones of men standing resolute against the season’s harshness. In the Forum of Constantinople, a formidable assembly of four thousand troopers stood at attention, their presence drawing curious glances from the city’s residents. A hushed silence pervaded, broken only by the sharp commands of commanders, the whistle of the wind, and the metallic symphony of clanking armour.
In a matter of weeks, Constantinople had transformed from a bustling construction hub into a military rallying point. Farmers, their fields lying fallow in the winter cold, joined as logistical support, swelling the assembly’s numbers threefold.
Atop the commanding stand, Antonius stood alongside the foreign dignitaries, their faces etched with resolve. Behind them, flags from various states fluttered proudly in the biting wind.
Stepping forward to address his army, Antonius’ presence immediately ignited a wave of fervent cheers from the ranks. The troops hailed their leader with a unified voice, their cries echoing through the city. Raising his arms high, the emperor’s voice boomed across the square.
"My sons! My brothers! This is a time of emergency! The Ottomans have yet again mastered their forces and begun to threat on our people and our land! I hope that everyone is very clear in their minds on the reason why you are gathered here, at this day, at this point of time! We, proud Romans, shall never, ever be threatened by outside Ottoman threat again! We shall never allow ourselves fall back to the pathetic state where we were just a decade ago!"
"Yay! Your Majesty!" The soldiers’ war cries resonated, a powerful chorus of solidarity and defiance, knocking their blades against their armours.
On the stage, the Mamluk Sultan’s ambassador cast a sly glance at Zaganos Pasha and his second son. The father maintained an inscrutable expression, while his son’s face flushed with suppressed emotion, his fists clenched tightly. Nearby, King Matthias of Hungary observed with admiration; the discipline of this Roman army rivalled, perhaps even surpassed, his own Black Army. The Muscovites, meanwhile, scrutinised the brand new weaponry and armour of the soldiers, intrigued by their advanced design. Skanderbeg, however, focused solely on Antonius, his gaze unwavering, reflecting his singular interest in the Roman leader.
The diverse perspectives of these leaders revealed their distinct priorities and characters.
"Today, we march for Bulgaria! Starting from my left, first contingent, move out!"
The colossal army transformed into a living, moving entity. Regiment after regiment, guided by their commanders, began to depart from the Forum of Constantine. They moved along the military Messe towards the Golden Gate, orchestrated by Mauro, the chief commander. Antonius too, turned back towards his court. The various courtiers are already waiting for him.
"My brother Abdullah, Helios" Antonius clasped their hands firmly. "Same as last time, please, I leave everything behind to you too while me and Apostolos are out of the city, please, safeguard the state that we have built."
"We shall uphold it with our very lives," Abdullah replied resolutely.
Antonius’s gaze lingered on the departing troops, a reflective sigh escaping his lips. "Eleven years ago, right here in this Forum, I was appointed Grand Admiral by Constantine XI. That moment marked the beginning of our journey to this day. Who could have thought that we can come through all the obstacles, and come to what we have now?"
"And we shall continue to defend that legacy," Helios affirmed. "With the blade by my waist."
Turning to the senators, Andronikos Laskaris and Issac Phrangopoulos, who had aligned with him, Antonius spoke, "Upon my return, I promise to revitalize and reorganise the Senate, returning power to the people. In the meantime, I implore you, honourable gentlemen, to maintain order within our government, and watch out for those colleagues of yours."
"Yes, your Majesty." The two senators bowed before the emperor and asked looking into the emperor’s eyes. "Your Majesty, may I know if you will be in Bulgaria for the whole campaign?"
"My goal is solely Abbas Pasha, that man is the only target I seeks, while taking over Bulgaria is Julian’s job, I do not care how he do it, but that shall be his work to be done."
"Thank you, your Majesty." The two senators bowed again.
Facing the Ecumenical Patriarch Gennadius Scholarius, Antonius hesitated briefly before bowing to kiss the Patriarch’s hand. The holy figure then took a Basil leaf, dipped it into holy water, and gently sprinkled it over the emperor. In the background, countless clergy mirrored the action, blessing the marching army with sanctified droplets.
"Your Holiness, I am profoundly grateful for your support in this campaign," Antonius expressed sincerely.
The Ecumenical Patriarch ceased his actions, his gaze drifting over the moving army. His eyes mirrored a tumult of emotions - divine concern mingled with Roman pride. He had borne witness to the empire’s perilous descent towards ruin in the first six decades of his life, and now, its astonishing resurgence in the past decade, all thanks to the man standing before him. "No, I should be the one thanking you, my child," he said earnestly. "Without your endeavours, the Ecumenical Patriarchy might have faded into oblivion."
"It is my responsibility, your Holiness, please, it is cold out here, it will be catastrophic if you, may God condemn it, suffer from any illness due to my faults."
The old Patriarch made a slight laugh. "I am fitter than what you thinks, and I am here today for a request, my child."
"You have my ears."
"Until now, the Orthodox Church has played a relatively modest role in the war of reclamation. This is contrary to the very mission of the Ecumenical Patriarch, disappointing many who follow the teachings of Christ. Thus, I, along with a hundred servants of the Church, both men and women, wish to accompany the armies on this campaign."
The emperor was momentarily taken aback by the Patriarch’s proposal but quickly grasped its profound significance. Having the Ecumenical Patriarch at his side during the war would not only demonstrate his legitimate authority over the Orthodox realm but also maintain high morale and discipline among his troops under the Church’s guidance. Furthermore, the presence of the Church could ease the transition of the Bulgarian people back under Constantinople’s rule, softening their resistance after centuries of Ottoman dominion. For the Bulgarians revered the Ecumenical Patriarch as their spiritual leader, which could make the shift in power seem more amenable than under Ottoman rule.
In other words, whoever who has the support of the Ecumenical Patriarch in this empire, gains the legitimacy to acquire others’ support.
With that in mind, the emperor has no reason to disapprove.
"Thank you, your Holiness, the Church’s contributions shall be remembered."
The emperor, finally, kneeled down on one knee and again kissed the hands of the old Ecumenical Patriarch. Antonius is no longer that blood boiling youngster he was ten plus years ago when he asked the previous Ecumenical Patriarch whether God really exist, he no longer cares about this kind of theoretical things now, for he is already a matured ruler, and he knows that by integrating the Church into his government will provide a perk on his stability and legitimacy that he cannot neglect.
Finally, the emperor went forward and thanked the foreign delegates for their kind choice choosing to remain with him even during such dire turn of events. But only these foreign delegates know that they only chose to remain here to have a look on the true combat capabilities of these Greeks, to see if they can exploit any benefits from this new state.
The massive army set off, for their destination, marching along the woods. The cavalries of Khalid have already set off in the early morning, clearing paths, cutting across all the woods, scouting the region hunting down one after another Ottoman watchman, and also alerting the nearby villagers that they ought to seek refuge immediately.
The war between two sides have already started, way before the two armies came face to face with one another.
The cavalries of Khalid are perhaps the only always combat ready troops, as none of these six hundred riders are involved in the construction works, they had only one job, that is to keep on training themselves, assisting the friendly units in catching up with their riding skills, and turning the entire army into a force that can knock on with the Ottoman cavalries when they are needed to in Anatolia.
Yes, the forces of Zaganos Pasha, who is just nice to be riding alongside with this army now by coincidence.
"...I do not understand it, father! They are heading right towards another Ottoman force, our ally! Uncle Abbas! We ought to immediately sneak back to Anatolia, master our troops, and attack on the backside of the Rumelians when Constantinople is illy defended! Why the hell are we marching alongside with these Rumelians? Isn’t this considered a betrayal to our very own allies?"
