Pov of Theophilos
Anno Domini 830,August-15
''We have a new report from our strategos in Croatia'' one of the messengers announced, moving back and forth from the region to keep us informed.
''Good… how fares Basil? The last report indicated he was struggling with the terrain, and although he had managed to push back the Carolingian forces, he was still tied down in the siege of Nona'' I said, settling into the throne while observing the gathered aristocrats, all attentive to any chance to present their petitions.
''The siege progresses, your majesty. Since the deployment of the naval force, supply by sea has been cut. There have been no major skirmishes, but scouts have detected a concentration of forces, and our spy network reports a significant increase in the purchase of iron and preserved food. Everything suggests the Carolingians are gathering more troops'' the messenger replied, reading from the letter.
''How many troops does Basil command? Perhaps we should consider sending reinforcements'' I said, thoughtfully, bringing my hand to my beard.
''According to the latest report, Basil commands forty two thousand men, along with eighteen thousand troops from Archon Vlastimir, who are operating in the region in support of the campaign'' one of my attendants replied.
A murmur spread through the hall. That number did not go unnoticed among the aristocrats.
''They have begun…'' I muttered, noticing several of them step forward, bowing formally before speaking.
''Imperial majesty… it is unthinkable that a single general should concentrate such power. Strategos Basil commands an excessive army, composed mostly of foederati. The capital risks that a noble general, exposed for so long to barbarian customs, may become influenced by them. He should be removed from his command as soon as possible and replaced by someone more… suitable'' said one of the aristocrats, known for his armament contracts.
''Exactly, basileus Rhomaion. A general who holds an army of such magnitude, financed largely by his own means, represents a risk Rome cannot afford. It would be wise to send other generals, divide his forces, and order his return so he may resume his duties as strategos of Crete'' added another, with clear commercial interests.
I raised my hand before a third could intervene.
''The reason that army remains united, despite being composed of Slavs, Serbs, varangoi, Vlachs, and Rhomaioi, is one man, Basil. The Varangians have been loyal to him for years. It was he who brought them into the Empire to defend our coasts, and they have done so effectively. We have not faced serious piracy in a long time. The others follow him because he subdued them. Tell me… what message would we send if we removed the man who conquered them? That they may rebel? That they may leave without consequence?'' I said, resting my fist against my face, paying little attention to the obvious attempt to undermine my best general.
''Majesty, the risk still exists. We cannot ignore the possibility that, with so many victories, he may consider himself worthy of wearing the imperial diadem. Sending other generals to limit his control would be a prudent measure'' insisted a third aristocrat, tied to military circles.
''Enough'' I cut in, my voice hardening. ''General Basil has my full confidence, both for his loyalty and his ability. He has taken three Frankish fortresses in two months. If he remains at Nona, it is only due to the lack of naval support, something we have already corrected. Without that limitation, the siege would not have lasted so long.''
My gaze swept across the hall, studying the group of aristocrats who eagerly sought to climb positions of power by removing anyone who shone too brightly in their eyes.
''There is nothing that makes me doubt my strategos. Any insinuation in that direction will be considered intrigue against the Empire.''
The aristocrats lowered their heads and returned to their places, waiting for their turn to present their petitions. Even so, their disappointment was clear after another failed attempt to convince me that something was wrong.
Always the same.
Every time Basil won a battle, these men whispered that he was about to proclaim himself emperor. Every fortress taken became, in their words, another step toward supposed usurpation. If he recruited men, it was for power. If he asked for reinforcements, it was because he desired the crown.
In the eyes of fools, Basil was the greatest threat to the Empire.
An absurd conclusion.
The Abbasids were consumed by civil wars and rebellions, while the Franks were fully committed to stopping his advance in Croatia. Not without reason, Basil had shattered several of their forces, and the Carolingians, unable to impose themselves in Italy, were reduced to losing men in useless sieges against our coastal fortresses.
And yet, in this hall, he was the problem.
Basil had proven to be the opposite of what these aristocrats and patricians suggested. Aside from the lands north of the Danube, he had returned every conquered territory to imperial control. He even kept Archon Vlastimir under constant watch.
It was no secret that Vlastimir despised Basil. His resentment was obvious, especially when he was required to contribute meaningfully to the war effort. The campaign did not advance with the speed seen in Pannonia and Nitra, where cities had fallen in days, but even so, the results were more than acceptable.
There had been no decisive battle to end the conflict, but that did not matter,It was only a matter of time.
The Carolingians would be forced to retreat north, and our borders in the Balkans would be secured.
The day continued without pause. Petitions, disputes, complaints. Aristocrats, merchants, scholars… all with urgent problems, all with interests to defend.
In the east, demands arose to further fragment the sarakenoi. After the conquests over the Abbasids, we now governed a vast and largely hostile population. The response had been gradual but clear, selective enslavement and resettlement in the Balkans, where they worked lands abandoned after the wars against the Bulgars. The Romans of the region were beginning to rebuild, but the process remained fragile.
The other great front was trade.
We controlled much of the Mediterranean. Coastal cities prospered, and the silk road flowed again under our influence. Paradoxically, this did not bring calm, but new tensions.
The merchants no longer complained about pirates.
Now they complained among themselves.
The main target of their criticism was the mercantile enterprise tied to the strategos of Crete. Its privileged position, along with a network of scribes that produced and distributed books across the Empire, had allowed it to dominate multiple markets. Competing against an organization backed by a strategos was, in practice, impossible.
And the rumors did not help.
There was talk of a new type of ship, developed in the shipyards of Heraklion, capable of carrying double or even triple the cargo with the same crew. If confirmed, it would tilt the balance even further in Basil's favor.
The frustration among the merchants was evident.
But that was not their only complaint.
The new tax applied in the territories of the foederati had sparked another source of conflict. For months, those lands had been free of burdens to encourage urban growth and attract merchants. The strategy had worked, each week tens of thousands of carts moved between markets, transporting construction materials extracted by Bulgar and Saracen slaves, processed by Romans, and sold in the cities of Carpathia.
It was a system that grew quickly… and cost even more to sustain.
The tax had been approved to finance that growth… but the merchants did not appreciate paying for a system from which they had benefited without restriction until now.
Even so, it was no more than a headache, and not something I intended to change.
The foederati defended the northern frontier effectively. For months, we had faced no serious incursions. Varangian and Slavic patrols watched beyond the Danube, containing steppe raiders before they could even approach our lands. As long as that situation held, I could tolerate a few complaints.
When the audiences ended, I withdrew to my work chamber and began reviewing the account books,The taxes had already been collected. Without doubt, this was the most favorable moment of all.
We had enough resources to begin multiple projects, or even sustain new military campaigns. Trade flowed with an intensity not seen in generations, and our coffers reflected it. Especially now that Crete paid tribute again after the end of its exemption.
A small island, seemingly insignificant… and yet it produced revenues comparable to some of the largest themas of the Empire.
Damn that Basil. He knew exactly what he was doing. Too intelligent to be so loyal.
Tempting as it was to launch a campaign against Egypt that same year, I preferred to have my best general lead it. Skleros had refused the command, citing lack of experience in warfare against the sarakenoi. It was not a weak excuse. That war required more than discipline, it required knowledge of the enemy.
And that brought us back, once again, to Basil.
The problem was different...Basil did not wish to continue serving me.
Once he finished the campaign in Croatia, it was likely he would abandon active command and limit himself to his role as strategos of Crete. And once he set aside the sword… it would be difficult to make him take it up again without resorting to pressure that could turn against me.
I could not allow that.
While he remained in campaign, he was more receptive. More willing to advance, to fight, to accept new orders without question.
I opened the compartment of my desk and looked at the stack of Carolingian letters that had accumulated over the past months.
They all spoke of the same thing.
At first, they sought a mutual agreement to end hostilities. As we advanced, their tone changed. They began to offer concessions. Territories. In the end, they were willing to abandon the Balkans and Carpathia just to stop the war.
They were bleeding out.
The war against Basil was consuming them slowly. It was not a campaign of grand battles, but one of constant attrition, small skirmishes, precise strikes, thousands of cuts building toward the final blow.
But accepting their terms meant losing Basil,And that was not negotiable,I had to keep him moving.
Let him finish the Croatian campaign,but not with a final peace. A short truce would be enough. Just enough to keep him mobilized and redirect him without pause toward a new front.
Egypt.
To secure the breadbasket of the Empire. The most profitable province had to return to the fold. It would be a long campaign, costly and demanding… but it would pay for itself many times over as grain continued to fill every table. It would also open a more direct route to trade with India and Asia.
With that, I could say my duty as emperor was nearly fulfilled. The frontiers secured. The economic heart under control.
But I could not stop there,The situation was perfect to reclaim the cradle of the Empire.
Italy.
After Egypt, Basil would be sent there. Let him deal with the pope and his false emperor. That would be enough.
I would not repeat the mistakes of Justinian. I would not pursue a desperate restoration of every imperial territory while the Empire bled from overextension, corruption, and rebellion.
I would settle for what mattered.
Egypt… and Rome.
Secure those regions, integrate them properly, strengthen them. Then let my sons continue the expansion, step by step, without haste.
Perhaps I would not see the Empire reunified in my lifetime. But it would be so in the future. And that would be my true work.
A united Empire, stable, prosperous. Not on the edge of collapse from its size, but strengthened by its development. A place where the law stood firm and the borders were no longer a constant concern.
As I reviewed the reports and saw how revenues had steadily increased, I heard footsteps approaching.
I raised my gaze.
Theodora entered the chamber, followed by her attendants. Her eyes held that familiar glint.
''Greetings, my basileus Rhomaion'' she said, approaching quickly and circling behind me. Her hands slid naturally around my neck.
''Theodora'' I replied with a slight smile, closing the books before me.
''Forgive my behavior… but I have come to collect a promise that was made to me not long ago'' she said, before kissing my cheek and then watching me with clear expectation.
''The grand banquet. I have not forgotten'' I replied calmly. ''How are your brother and your father in the thema I assigned to them''
''Well. They are organizing the administration and trying to expand a little. They have taken an Abbasid fortress that was practically undefended. There are still two claimants alive, but they do not seem to pose an immediate threat'' Theodora explained.
''Perfect. Send them letters. They are to be present by the end of the year'' I said, nodding with satisfaction. ''By then, I expect we will have good news from Croatia.''
''Let us hope so…'' she replied, holding my gaze.
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