Chapter 646: Do You Renounce Satan?
Apostolos’ agents scoured Constantinople, examining every detail for hints of conspiracy against Emperor Antonius. They patrolled the streets relentlessly, scrutinising even the use of foreign languages with suspicion. Citizens were interrogated in broad daylight about their recent activities; any hesitation or inability to respond led to further questioning in the cells. In these times, every single minute activity that seemed abnormal to them is being magnified for multiple times and brought to questions.
The old senators Andronikos and Issac, survivors of this purge, remarked, "It’s the usual power consolidation by an emperor - removing old factions, instating loyalists. A familiar pattern in Roman history, absolutely nothing to be surprised about."
Despite the turmoil, life in Constantinople continued. Activities, ceremonies, and daily routines persisted.
No matter what, life must still go on.
Antonius, his family, and a retinue including courtiers, politicians, and honoured guests sought refuge in the Hagia Irene. Among them was young Giovanni, now in his teenage years, his appearance beginning to mirror his late father’s. His mother, Therma Giustinianni Sphrantzes, had returned from the Aegean Isles, her nun’s attire a stark contrast to her former life, her face marked by the toll of hard monastic labour.
His mother, Therma Giustinianni Sphrantzes too, is brought back to Constantinople once again from the Aegean Isles, donned in a black nun’s outfit, standing there in utter silence without saying a single word. She seems to have aged, by quite a lot, with wrinkles already emerging on her still young face, and hands becoming stiff from the days after days of hard labour in the monastery on the island.
Giovanni fidgeted nervously, uncertain of the unfolding events, while the commanders who once served his father stood solemnly to one side. The Basileus and Basilessa, along with the Bishop of Hagia Irene, prepared for the ceremony under the watchful eye of the Ecumenical Patriarch.
Hagia Irene, with its grand dome and expansive nave, stood as a testament to Byzantine architectural splendour. Its walls, adorned with intricate mosaics and frescoes, depicted scenes of religious significance, bathing the interior in a sense of divine majesty. The lofty arches echoed with the murmurs of the congregation, setting the stage for the solemn ceremony about to commence. The air was filled with a sense of reverence, as the hallowed halls of this ancient church bore witness to yet another pivotal moment in the empire’s history, serving mostly as a private church for the royal family before the devastation of the crusade.
And today, the Hagia Irene is yet again here for another ceremony.
In the serene ambience of the church, young Giovanni Junior stood before the priest, who began his sacred chant.
"Exi ab eo, immunde spiritus, et da locum Spiritui Sancto Paraclito. "
"Oremus: Preces nostras. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen."
"Antonios Ritsios, crucis Dominicae impressione signatum, ut magnitudinis gloriae tuae rudimenta servans, per custodiam mandatorum, ad regenerationis gloriam pervenire mereatur. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen."
...
As the prayers echoed, Emperor Antonius, chosen to be Giovanni’s godfather, felt his mind drifting, his thoughts mired in the turmoil beyond these hallowed walls.
"...Deus omnipotens, Pater Domini nostri Iesu Christi, qui te regeneravit ex aqua et Spiritu Sancto, quique dedit tibi remissionem omnium peccatorum, ipse te liniat Chrismate Salutis in eodem Christo Iesu Domino nostro in vitam aeternam. Amen."
"Amen"
...
On the street of Constantinople, the riot continued as the citizens confronts the hounds of Apostolos, who were just trying to pull a well respected local from his street house. Violent clashes continued, as the inhabitants here are mostly Armenian immigrants who are much more united than the rest of the neighbourhoods.
The priest turned to Antonius, his voice cutting through the emperor’s preoccupation. "Credis et in Spiritum sanctum, sanctam Ecclesiam catholicam, Sanctorum communionem, remissionem peccatorum, carnis resurrectionem, et vitam æternam?"
With a sombre tone, Antonius affirmed, "Credo."
As the solemn ceremony progressed inside the church, the priest gently dipped his hand into a bowl of sacred oil. With a sense of reverence, he anointed the lips and chin of young Giovanni Junior, marking a pivotal moment in the sacred ritual.
Meanwhile, outside on the bustling streets, a starkly different scene unfolded. Apostolos’s hounds, armed with batons and dull blades, surged into the crowds. They struck indiscriminately; their aggression met with fierce resistance from the Armenian community. Armed with makeshift weapons like blades, ladders, and benches, the Armenians bravely defended themselves. The confrontation escalated into a violent skirmish, ending with the hounds being driven out, leaving behind a scene of bloodshed and chaos.
Back in the church, the priest continued with the ancient rite of exorcism, his voice resounding through the sacred space: "Exorcizo te, immunde spiritus, in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, ut exeas, et recedas ab hoc famulo Dei. Antonisl, ipse enim tibi imperat, maledicte damnate, qui pedibus super mare ambulavit, et Petro mergenti dexteram porrexit."
One after another new inmate is being thrown into the cell, while at the same time just right beside the cell there exist a chamber whereby interrogation is taking place. The old friend, young senator Menelaos, is still being hang on the walls, crucified, obviously unconscious. While the agents continued to splash bucket after bucket of cold water onto his face, preventing the man who now has strips of blood all over his face from sleeping, asking the exact same question again and again.
"Why did you want to assassinate the emperor! Who told you to! Who is with you! Do you have any plans on the Basillisa! Or the royal prince and princess!"
Yes – that is exactly the thing that Antonius is most afraid of – in his heart, ever after he had a son.
"Your Majesty, do you believe in God, the Father Almighty — Creator of Heaven and Earth?"
"I do," came with a distant, hollow gaze, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Meanwhile, at the army camp near the Armenian district, a messenger delivered a direct request from Apostolos to Mauro, the Capital’s defence commander. Apostolos urged troop deployment to quell the unrest, but Mauro staunchly refused, criticizing Apostolos’s excessive measures and expressing concern about the emperor’s reaction to such force, saying that he is already helping the current situation by not letting his angry soldiers out of the camps to tear him apart.
Apostolos, who received this reply in Hagia Irene, made a cold snuff, as he knows, that he is the only person who understands the emperor the best in the current situation.
As this tension simmered outside, the church ceremony proceeded, a stark contrast to the unrest and power struggles that gripped the streets of Constantinople.
"Do you believe in the Holy Ghost — the Holy Catholic Church?"
"I do."
The priest nodded, and the music in the church reached its high tide.
A fleet of horsemen galloped through the central messe, all finest riders that Apostolos could rally up who came from all the nearby Bulgarian villages, all paid to do dirty jobs. They have no affiliation with the empire, nor do they have made any pledges vowing to protect the Roman people, let inside the city by Apostolos, just to do one job.
"Emperor, do you renounce Satan?"
"Emperor, do you renounce Satan?" the priest asked. Antonius, his gaze empty, barely audible, responded.
"I do renounce him."
Streets away, chaos erupted as Apostolos’s riders, wielding rods and clad in leather armour, charged into the Armenian protesters. Panic and horror spread like wildfire. The community, unprepared for the horsemen’s brute force, was scattered in disarray. The thundering hooves and relentless charge tore through their defences, leaving behind a trail of suffering – cries of pain, blood-soaked streets, and numerous casualties – a grim reminder of the unbridled terror unleashed upon them.
"And all of his works?" the priest inquired, his voice echoing through the hallowed church.
"I do renounce them."
Elsewhere, in the estates of the senators, once-respected statesmen were humiliated and stripped of dignity. They stood in line, naked and submissive, as agents ransacked their homes for any incriminating evidence, even the tiniest are counted. Fear had rendered them compliant, especially after witnessing the dire fate of those who dared to resist, as there are yet a few heads rolling on the ground against the Northern wind. Several were deemed guilty based on mere letters of dissent against the new regime.
Back in the church.
"And all of his pomps?" the priest continued.
Antonius gazed at Giovanni Junior, softly touching the boy’s head, and solemnly declared, "I do renounce them."
In a stark contrast, the interrogation chamber presented a harrowing scene. Menelaos, the would-be assassin, lay lifeless, his body a testament to the brutal interrogation he endured. In his final moments, under extreme duress, he had named alleged accomplices, which is passed to him by an interrogation officer, his last act before being discarded in the Golden Horn.
"In nomine Patris, et Filii, , et Spiritus Sancti. May the Lord be with you. Amen."
"Amen."
The ceremony concluded in a poignant mix of sacredness and sorrow, overshadowed by the grim reality outside the church doors.
Accompanied with.
The lines of bodies of the citizens on the street, most of them innocent.
The pack of naked senators being pushed into a place unknown, most of them participated in the killing of Giovanni Giustinianni and George Sphrantzes.
And the body of Menelaos floating on the waters of the Golden Horn, with no one knowing who this body belongs to.
The purge is done.
