[Completed] Crowns of the Levant

[coz1]

I've been slowly catching up on this and hope to get current soon. However, I had chance to put you up for the latest WritAAR of the Week and glad to have done so. This is a really great work! Head on over and accept your nod and now start thinking of who you wish to pass it on to.

Enjoy your week and keep it up!

 

[Werther]

I've been slowly catching up on this and hope to get current soon. However, I had chance to put you up for the latest WritAAR of the Week and glad to have done so. This is a really great work! Head on over and accept your nod and now start thinking of who you wish to pass it on to.

Enjoy your week and keep it up!

Thank you again for your nomination! And I hope you will enjoy the next chapters.

 

[Werther]

"It has been a wonderful day!" exclaimed Agathe as she handed her falcon to her Master of the Hunt. "But my body is not so young anymore and my joints hurt." Nevertheless, it was good fatigue, the kind that made her relive her younger years when she used to hunt for hours on end in the Judean Mountains. Falconry was an activity particularly appreciated by the Hierosolymitan nobility and Agathe had been quick to spread the practice throughout the Empire of Romania.

The hunt was all the more pleasant as this region abounded in forests and was blessed with a mild climate, even in early summer. And it was almost with regret that she ordered the return to camp.

Agathe and her retinue soon emerged from the woods and walked along the banks of the Danube. On discovering the river for the first time, the Empress had been impressed by its width, the power of its flow and its wildness. It made a mockery of the dusty streams that the Orientals presumptuously called 'rivers'. Faced with this majestic snake of water that cut its way through the land, one could only understand its role as a border for the Greeks. Its mighty meanders seemed to split the Earth in two, separating Civilisation from Barbary.
​

The Danube​

Agathe soon saw Vidin. Built on the Greek side of the river, the city was nestled in a loop of the Danube. It was not very large, but its position and port made it a strategic place for the defence of the Empire. Vidin was well defended by the impressive fortress of Baba Vida, built and named by the Bulgarians, it had been taken by Emperor Basil II and reinforced by his successors. It was this fortress that the Romans had been trying to retake from the Hungarians for months.

On arriving at the camp, Agathe decided to take a tour of the trenches and palisades set up by the besiegers. She greeted some soldiers, gave some orders to reinforce a position and came to encourage the engineers in charge of building the rams. She had never been so happy and fulfilled as during this campaign. The Empress liked to plan every operation of the siege in detail and felt much freer here than at the Great Place, which she had happily left to her husband Philippos.

As she was checking the supplies with the steward, a soldier came forward.

"Your Majesty," he said, putting a knee to the ground. “A certain Ougos Anatolikos has arrived and wishes an audience.”

“Is he a messenger from the Emperor of Jerusalem?" Ougos was clearly a Greek name, but it was a translation of Hugues, which was mostly borne by Hierosolymitans or children of mixed unions.

She was eager to hear from Father. They had been on bad terms for months, with the emperor blaming her for almost every decision she made. The Hierosolymitan army had even refused to march with the Greeks and at the battle of Belogradchik, eight months earlier, the Latins had arrived hours after the first engagement to finish off the last Hungarians. Since then, Hugues III had left Agathe to lay siege to the various places in the province of Vidin and had been hunting down the enemy troops who were still south of the Danube. The last news was that Father and Errard were in Smederevo, where they were about to engage Duke Oskar's troops. Despite their dispute, Agathe was worried about her father.
​

The Danubian Campaign​

"No, Your Majesty," replied the soldier. “He claims to be in the service of the Despot Dorotheos Ouranos.”

“I will meet him in my tent," she said with a frown.

As she walked towards the imperial tent, Agathe was overcome by a certain apprehension. Philippos and Jean did not agree on anything except the need to be wary of Ouranos. He had, however, answered her call to arms and participated in the first campaign season. He even commanded the imperial troops at the battle of Belogradchik. This victory had further enhanced his prestige among the soldiers, so she had thought it safer to send him back to his land under false pretences. Since then, she had not heard from him again, and now she wondered what news his messenger would bring her.
​

The Battle of Belgogradchik (October 1303)​

The imperial tent had been erected in the centre of the camp. It was bell-shaped, spacious and decorated with beautiful oriental rugs. During the day, the camp bed was put away and a small wooden table was set up, covered with maps and scrolls. In anticipation of her return from the hunt, a bath had been prepared and the Empress immersed herself in it with delight. After her toilette, her ladies-in-waiting dressed her in clean clothes. When this was done, she asked for a cup of wine and a basket of fruit to be brought to her. She then took her place on her curule seat decorated with imperial emblems and upholstered with cushions. Finally ready, Agathe signalled to her guards to let the mysterious Ougos Anatolikos in.
​

Ougos Anatolikos​

As soon as she saw him enter the tent, she recognised him. It had probably been forty years since she had seen him, but those familiar features still haunted some of her nights.

"Hugues the Bastard!" she let out, as her fifty-year-old half-brother greeted her with a perfunctory bow.

"It's been a long time since I've been called that," he replied in Greek with a small, toothy smile. "I prefer Ougos Anatolikos. Neither Mother nor Kyriakos recognised me, so I decided to take a name of my own, dear sister.”

“Half-sister," she corrected in French.
​

Family tree of Hugues the Bastard, known as Ougos Anatolikos, natural son of Queen Maria and half-brother of Empress Agathe
​

“I would prefer to use a civilised language. It's been a long time since I've practised French... and I don't enjoy doing so.”

“What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously. “I don't know what Ouranos was thinking, but if he thought he'd win my favour by sending me my long-lost bastard brother, he was mistaken.”

“Lost? Did you mean exiled?" he asked in an almost perky tone as he pulled a folding chair closer and made himself comfortable.

"Whatever," she said. “It's clearly an insult. If Father had been there…”

“He would probably have had me hanged," said Ougos, "or made me leak the excrement of a leper so that I would have perished in the same way as the brute who was my natural father. I am sure that Ouranos would have been happy to hear this. He does not like me very much, not… frank enough he said. He’s not wrong, thanks to our mother, I’m not Frank at all." He laughed, obviously proud of his pun. "Besides, my execution would have been an excellent excuse for him to act, given my mission.”

“And yet you serve him... “

“And he let me serve him. A man full of pride, who likes to drape himself in high principles. But a hypocrite who hides his betrayals and ambition behind the screen of his high ideals. He may vomit men like me, who are not ashamed to get their hands dirty, even with imperial shit, but he needs them to do his dirty work.”

“And what did he ask you to do?”

“Nothing. It is not he who actually sends me, but the one he serves.”

“Helena Komnenos."

Ougos smiled broadly.

"Insightful. I would expect no less from my sister." He emphasised the last word, as if to imply that they shared more than a mother. She did not, however, take up the insult.

"Speak," she ordered, tired of his smug tone.

"Basilissa Helena Komnenos gives you one last chance to leave with the King of Jerusalem. Abdicate and you and your family will be spared."

Anger rose to Agathe's face.

"How dare she threaten me? I have the power of two empires behind me!”

“Two?" laughed Ougos. “Jerusalem is weakened by the previous war. Its soldiers and coffers are bleeding to defend a few acres of land of the ancient Usurper. As for the Roman Empire, half of it is ready to take up arms against you.”

“Who?" she asked with authority. “Who are the traitors that I punish!"

Still wearing his dirty smile, Ougos pretended to count on his fingers: "Ouranos of course, and the Despots of Hellas and Serbia Alexandros Palaiotes and Ioannes Bryennios, Duchesses Anna and Theodora Komnenos, Duchess Nikoletta Doukas... Ha! And even Dukes Abelard of Apulia, Niketas Kamateros and Hetum Zebos..."
​

The main rebels, from left to right: Ioannes Bryennios, Despot of Serbia, Dorotheos Ouranos, Despot of Anatolia, Helena I Komnenos, Alexandros Palaiotes, Despot of Hellas and Nikoletta Doukas, duchess of the Thracesians​

It was as if her half-brother had just punched her violently in the stomach. Agathe almost felt like throwing up as she realised that a large part of the Empire had turned against her. While she was defending their lands, her subjects were stabbing her in the back.

“You have no choice but to abdicate," said Ougos in a harsher tone. “There's nothing to be ashamed of, sis. Helena I, Eustathios or Helias, it has practically become a Roman tradition to give up the throne to avoid a bloodbath. Only the Girl tried to resist... and I don't think I need to tell you how that ended.”

“Never!" she shouted, rising abruptly to her feet. "I will crush these traitors and hang them! I should start with you! What's to stop me from ordering my guards behind you to arrest you and send you back to your masters in little pieces?"

Ougos did not seem particularly frightened by this threat. He calmly stood up, grabbed an apple from the basket and nonchalantly bit into it.

"I've already told you. It would be useless, I am nothing. You would simply give your enemies a new pretext and be accused of parricide." He swallowed the rest of the apple as Agathe looked on. Seeing that she didn't call her guards, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and added: "For once being born into this damned family is a good thing for me..."

Without a word of greeting, he turned on his knees and headed for the doorway. Before disappearing, he handed the apple core to one of the guards: "Ask for two riders, your mistress must warn her husband and father that the war has begun.”
​

Top: Call to arms
Bottom: the Civil War​

 

[Specialist290]

Well, it's only to be expected that a wide swathe of the Empire would resent a foreign-born empress imposed upon them by force. Usurper rebellions are practically a time-honored Roman tradition.

 

[Werther]

Well, it's only to be expected that a wide swathe of the Empire would resent a foreign-born empress imposed upon them by force. Usurper rebellions are practically a time-honored Roman tradition.

Exactly, and the tradition will be more than respected in the following years.

 

[Dunaden]

A rebellion is a good way to identify and clean out the malcontents in your realm... provided you win, of course.

 

[Werther]

A rebellion is a good way to identify and clean out the malcontents in your realm... provided you win, of course.

Problem arises when malcontents multiply. In this case there is a risk that the malcontents will be the ones to clean up.

 

[Werther]

​

The dice rolled around the board for a while before coming to rest on the number three.

"The elephant," said Akab At-Malik, pointing to the bishop. Prince Etienne nodded and then thought for a moment before playing one of the two pieces.

“I am surprised that you know such a game," said the prince in Arabic, "I did not imagine a peasant knowing the rules.”

“I often went to Ani to sell my crops and pay the kapnikon," replied Akab, staring at the chessboard. “The despot's representative liked me and taught me how to play it."
​

The rebel leader Akab At-Malik​

Fieldwork and a few years in the thematas had sculpted Akab At-Malik's impressive build. The glow of the torches emphasised his muscles even more. Sitting cross-legged on the cushions, the Arab peasant-turned-rebel leader fiddled with a Greek cross hanging from his neck as he pondered his next move.

If Akab seemed at ease in this oriental decorated palace, this was not the case for his companion sitting next to him. David Komnenos, Duke of Antioch, may have been allied with the Arab rebel and lived in the East since birth, but he was a Greek to the core. Unlike Etienne, who, like many of the Hierosolymitan lords, had learned Arabic in order to communicate with some of his subjects, David Komnenos had a very poor command of the language and spoke exclusively in Greek.
​

David Komnenos, Duke of Antioch​

"It is a magnificent palace," David said in a tone that did not exude sincerity. "The city is also impressive. Does Kallinikos belong to you?”

“Raqqa?" asked Etienne. “No, it belongs to Duke Yves who is currently in your Empire fighting one of Agathe's thousand enemies."
​

Raqqa and the northern border of the Jerusalem Empire​

For the meeting, Etienne had preferred Raqqa to Makisin, his own capital. The palace was impressive... and if the presence of the two rebels in the Jerusalem Empire were to become known, he preferred not to be associated with this meeting.

"It is not for lack of asking for its attachment to the Duchy of Diyar Rabia," continued Etienne. “But Father refused.”
​

The Duchy of Diyar Rabia, fief of Prince Etienne​

“It is a shame. The city is very beautiful and one of the most dynamic in the region," says David.

“I don't think that the beauty or the dynamism of the city is the real reason why the prince asked for the city," Akab said while placing his vizier in a threatening position for the king of Etienne.

"And why would I ask?" asked Etienne with a smile, as he rolled his die.

“We may have lived in the Greek Empire for a long time, but we Arabs remember our history. Even in the most remote villages, we tell the stories of our Mohammedan ancestors. One of these heroes is the Caliph Haroun Al Rashid who preferred Raqqa to Baghdad. He may even have built this palace. Raqqa was the centre of the world, even for a short time. And I am sure you know that, because you are an ambitious man, Prince Etienne.”

“I can only return the compliment," said Etienne, moving a pawn to save his king. “A simple peasant who now leads thousands of men and even some great lords," he added, pointing to David Komnenos. “The peasant who makes despots tremble.”
​

Akab At-Malik Rebellion (red)​

“And who even slaughtered one of them with his hands!" intervened Onfroy, Etienne's cousin. The latter had so far been more interested in his cup of wine than in historical palaver. But he had always been fond of bloody stories.
​

Duke Onfroy​

A passion that David Komnenos, a man proud of his rank, did not seem to share. He found it difficult enough to admit his alliance with a manant, let alone with a killer of despots.

"This is an exaggeration. Hippolytos II Taronites was killed in a perfectly honourable battle." It was actually more of an ambush by Akab and his band of peasants than an actual battle. The Despot of Armenia was not a real warrior and he had greatly underestimated the forces of the rebels. He had paid a high price for it. David Komnenos probably preferred his own version, for it was this event that had made him decide to join the rebel side.
​

Hippolytos II Taronites and his successor Romanos Taronites, despots of Armenia​

"Never mind his death," Akab snarled as he went on the attack once more with one of his towers. “He got what he deserved, and his young son Romanos will soon follow him to the grave. The Taronites have despised the Arabs for far too long, and now they serve a heretic who holds Patriarch Germanos prisoner.”

“Helena Komnenos wants to restore him," Etienne said, probing his interlocutor's intentions.

“Maybe. But she is not a friend of the Arabs.”
​

Byzantine chaos​

“Helena is my relative," David Comnenus added, taking pride in his Komnenos ancestry even though his branch of the family had long since been separated from the trunk. "But she does not understand the lords of the border any more than the other claimants do. We have been forgotten by Constantinople for centuries, it is time to take our destiny in hand.”

“So you want to create your own kingdom... and who will rule?" asked Etienne as he ate the tower of Akab.

David did not answer, although the prince understood that he coveted this position. But it was when he saw Akab's sparkling eyes that he understood his intentions.

“And I am the ambitious one," smiled the prince. “And who says you won't be a danger to Jerusalem? We remember very well the war of our fathers for this very city of Raqqa." He was referring to the short war of Manuel Comnenus, David's father, to seize Syria forty years earlier.

It was an initiative of Basileus Pantoleon," replied the duke, without managing to convince Etienne. “And it is you, Frangos, who threaten us! My own grandson and heir, the only family I have left since his father and brother died from the plague is in your jails!”
​

The family of David Komnenos​

“Young David was captured in Constantinople, not in an attack on Antioch. The boy is well treated, he is in the Palace of the Wise with my nieces and nephews. And I remind you that we offered to release him for a ransom.”

“Two hundred hyperpyron!" choked David. “A fortune! No, you're not going to take me away from the idea that you Franks are a danger. It's no secret that your father has his eye on Antioch and its patriarch!”
​

The Three Patriarchs of the East​

“My father already has enough patriarchs. Jerusalem and Alexandria are under his control, and Gilbert du Puy du Fou, the present patriarch of Jerusalem was at one time patriarch of Constantinople. No, he has no interest in Antioch, but has nothing to gain from the implosion of the Greek Empire.”

“Because it is run by your half-sister," David replied.

“Agathe is a bastard," said Onfroy peremptorily.

The two rebels were surprised by Etienne's lack of reaction, who simply played.

“Who says I'm not?" he asked with a smile.

“You will thus deny your rights to the Empire?" asked Komnenos, clearly surprised.

“I was just asking the question. And the Empire and the Kingdom of Jerusalem are two different things. The kingdom must go to the rightful descendant of Hugh the Great. If we were all to be bastards…”

“... I would have a better claim," finished Onfroy, puffing his chest out. “As the eldest son of Prince Jean, third son of King Hugues II…”
​

The lineage of Prince Jean, the Emperor's brother​

“But the Empire was founded by my father," Etienne continued without paying attention to Onfroy. “And for him, the only thing that matters is what he thinks and the order of succession he has decreed... But let's not go astray, we are not here to discuss my family's laws of succession, but the war. Now my father has asked me to mobilise the troops."

There was a moment of silence during which Akab attempted a defensive manoeuvre.

"Will you?" asked the rebel leader as he downed a cup of wine.

“Mobilise? Certainly. The troops are already gathering in Jerusalem. It remains to be seen whether we will launch a campaign against you or against the despot of Anatolia. To be honest, neither of these options is appealing to the lords of the Holy Land. Take Philippe of Palmyra, he has just returned to his lands, and all he brought back from his adventures was a nasty scar from the battle of Constantinople. They are tired of shedding their blood in defence of a foreign empire." He continued his offensive, forcing Akab to pull back his pieces.
​

Philippe Beaumont-au-Maine, Duke of Palmyra​

“The Empire will not know peace as long as the schismatic is on the throne," said the Arab leader. “The Rums will never accept a Faranj on their throne.”

“Just as we would never accept a Greek on ours," says Etienne with a big smile.

“What makes you think that we fear your intervention?

“If it wasn't, you wouldn't have come all this way, abandoning your troops to a lieutenant in the midst of a rebellion."

It was Akab's turn to smile, and Etienne realised that he had made a point.

"A little gold," offered Etienne, "and the assurance that none of your troops will cross the border, and we will not attack you.”

“The agreement must include the Red Sea and Sinai rebels," says Akab.

Etienne hesitated for a moment. "The Red Sea Lords have nothing to fear from us... The Melissenoi on the other hand... It will be very difficult for me to convince Father not to intervene in Sinai."
​

Sinai and Duke Isaias Melissenos​

The issue was a sensitive one. In 1097, the Pegonites, governors of Cyprus, had taken advantage of the civil war between the Komnenos and the Doukas and the Crusade to seize Sinai. The Melissenoi had succeeded the Pegonites, but 200 years after the crusade, the Montoires still laid claim to these lands which linked Jerusalem and Egypt. The Duke of Sinai had probably joined the rebellion to avoid falling under the control of the rulers of Jerusalem. In any case, Father would not want to miss an opportunity to fulfil the old dream of his ancestors.

"Sinai will be in the deal... or there will be no deal," Akab concludes as he makes his final move.

Etienne looked at him for a while, before holding out his hand. "But young David stays with us, as insurance."

David Komnenos gave a perfunctory protest, but the two rebels ended up shaking his hand. Then they left, leaving the two Montoires alone.

"I don't trust them," said Onfroy, pouring himself another drink.

“Neither do I, but it will save us some time and money.”

“Your father has asked you to lay siege to Antioch," said Onfroy.

“I know," replied Etienne, playing his last move. “And I will lay siege to the city, but without zeal. For we must save our strength for our real enemies."

And he captured the opposing king.

Checkmate!​

 

[Specialist290]

No profound observations this time around - just wanted to let you know I'm still following

 

[Werther]

A light rain began to fall, as if the sky was mourning the thousands of brave men who had fallen on the plain of Vidin. Or perhaps it was desperately trying to wash away the pools of blood that had been spilled? It was a lost cause, as there was so much of it. The fiercest battles had taken place here and dozens of Hierosolymitan and Hungarian corpses lay at the foot of Hugues III the Glorious.
​

La bataille de Vidin​

"How quiet," murmured Jean the Greek as he walked behind him, taking care not to trip over a broken body or shield.
​

Prince Jean the Greek​

“Yes," said Hugues. “I had the same thought during my very first campaign. It was during the conquest of Uqair and I was no more than 19 years old. Saint Etienne wanted to complete my education in the twilight of my father's reign. And I still remember the calm that followed my first battle.”

Oh, sure, there were the moans of the wounded, the soldiers calling out the name of a missing companion-in-arms, the sound of blades being wielded by scavengers finishing off enemies before snatching their valuables. But after the din of battle, a battlefield seemed strangely peaceful.

“What a bloodbath!" exclaimed Jean in his Greek accent. “The battles of Belogradchik and Smederevo had been bloody and I did not think that such a massacre would happen again.

“I have to admit that this campaign is particularly brutal," admitted Hugues. “At this rate, I don't know how long our men will last. It will take..."

Hugues did not finish his sentence. He had just recognised the corpse lying a few steps away from him.

His wide-open eyes were turned towards the heavens, as if he were admiring the face of the Creator. Beneath his legendary blood-stained beard, a grin of pain could be seen. A broken spear was still embedded in his left side and one of his legs was crushed by the corpse of his steed. A few inches away from him laid a Hungarian soldier, face down, whose right arm seemed to be wrapped around him. Was this the man who had killed him? Was it an enemy he had taken with him to the grave? Or had it been a matter of chance that a simple soldier should die on the already cold corpse of one of the greatest knights Jerusalem had ever known?

"Panagia mou!" exclaimed Jean. “Count Errard!"
​

La mort du Comte Errard​

The emperor could not take his eyes off his old friend. He remembered the first time he had seen him. He was just another young man-at-arms who had followed his emperor to Yemen in his campaign against the Sanaids. A war as dirty as this one. He had saved Hugues during a skirmish and had been rewarded with a knighthood and a position in the imperial guard. Since then, Errard had followed Hugues like a shadow, serving him loyally for almost three decades.

“I'm sorry, Grandpa," said John. I know you were close. He was a great knight, renowned throughout the East, and I am sad that I never spoke to him.”

“No wonder," said Hugues without looking away from the corpse. “Errard was a silent man, and perhaps that's why I enjoyed his company. God has blessed me with the power to convince with words. The Greeks call me Chryssiglossa," Hugues pouted, "Golden Tongue. But I have never appreciated chatter, praise and empty speeches. Errard offered me the silence I longed for. He spoke little, but always right. He was not afraid to tell me the truth, however painful it was. You will find that this is a rare commodity when you are an emperor.”

“He died a brave death," simply said Jean.

“Really?" asked Hugues thoughtfully. “And why did he die, Jean?"

The prince was somewhat bewildered by the question. He hesitated for a while, like a child being questioned by his tutor.

"For... my Aunt Agathe. For the Roman Empire.”

“For Agathe? For the Greek Empire?" repeated Hugues with a little pout. “Where is my daughter, Jean? With her troops in Constantinople. Even the Greeks realise the vanity of this Hungarian war as the Empire sinks into chaos. And I don't think Errard would have wanted to die defending the Greeks. Since their arrival in the Holy Land under Henry I, his ancestors had fought to protect the Holy Sepulchre from the Infidels. Errard didn’t care about the Empire of Constantinople.”

“But he fought for you!”

“Oh yes, and how! He led my armies to victory for years! And he never asked for anything in return, so much so that I had to order him to accept a fiefdom. But our subjects do not follow a man, Jean, but what he stands for. And I stand for Jerusalem. But Errard did not die for the Holy City. He did not die to defend it against the Mohammedans."

Hugues finally took his eyes off the Count and turned to his grandson. "Errard died hundreds of leagues from the Holy Sepulchre and the banks of the Jordan, killed by a Catholic manant to defend a few acres of land on the banks of the Danube belonging to a Greek and schismatic Empire. Do you think his ancestors are proud of him, Jean?"

The emperor left the prince to ponder his words. He signalled to one of his servants to take care of the body with dignity, and then continued on his way across the battlefield.

They soon came in sight of a group of lords and knights who were congratulating one of their own. On seeing the emperor, they kneeled. Hugues ordered them to get up before asking them why they were so happy.
​

Jacques of Estouteville​

"Sire," replied the knight Jacques of Estouteville. “We were congratulating the Duke of Al-Hassa on his fine charge!"
​

Duke Sigismond of Al-Hassa​

He pointed to Sigismond of House Yabrin who stood in the centre of the circle of knights. The young lord of Arabia had never really shone with courage or determination, but he had revealed himself in battle by leading a devastating charge against the enemy ranks. All the knights seemed happy to honour the young man. Except perhaps Andre of Oultrejordain, Hugues' nephew, who seemed consumed by jealousy at the triumph of this little lord.
​

Duke André of Oultrejordain​

In any case, Hugues did not have the heart to break the morale of his soldiers who had been tested by so many battles. So he did not announce Errard's death, preferring to congratulate the Duke of Al-Hassa.

"Dear Duke, I expected no less from such a brave and diligent man, but you fought well today and we owe you our victory. You will have a place on the council of war.”

“It is an honour, Your Majesty," Sigismond replied with pride. He turned to one of his guards and motioned to him to bring a prisoner. "Allow me to offer you my captive, the enemy commander himself.”
​

Vassily​

The prisoner was a shaggy man with mud and blood on his beard and clothes. His hands were shackled and he had a bad wound in his left leg that made him limp.

At first he refused to kneel before the emperor. Sigismund signalled to the soldier, who promptly gave him a heavy blow in the legs, and the Hungarian fell to his knees.

"What is your name?" asked Jean in Greek.

The man remained silent and the soldier struck him again, but it soon became apparent that he did not speak a word of Greek. Hugues concluded that the man probably did not belong to the highest Hungarian aristocracy.

Soon a drogman was brought in and asked the question again.

“He says his name is Vassily," the interpreter translated.

“Ask him where his troops have withdrawn to," said Jean.

The drogman complied, but it took one more blow for the Hungarian to respond.

"He says that he has ordered his men to withdraw beyond the Danube to join Duke Oskar. But some of the troops have taken refuge in Vidin.”

“Good," intervened Hughes at last. Find a tent for this man. Dress his wounds and give him a bath.”

“Shouldn't we rather put him to death?”asked Jean. “That way we would make an example and show the barbarians that one cannot attack the Empire with impunity."

Hugues and the knights looked at the prince with disapproval. "This is not how we treat a lord, let alone a Christian. I myself am married to a... 'barbarian'. And he fought well and is worth a good ransom. Besides, I don't intend to give the Greeks any ideas on how to treat "barbarians". For their definition also seems to include us."

He made a sign and soldiers took the Hungarian away.

"So the defenders of Vidin have received reinforcements," commented Bartholomew, Duke of Medina, a distant relative of the emperor and steward of Jerusalem. He had held this position for nearly three years and the death of Duke Guerech II of the Delta, who had died peacefully a month after the fall of Constantinople. "It will be even more difficult to take the city.”

-Not necessarily," replied Manassès, Duke of Mecca and Imperial Marshal. It might even be useful to us. It is not for nothing that their army was established outside Vidin, in the camp abandoned by the empress Agatha. The city probably doesn't have enough food to last very long and we've just sent them new mouths to feed."

There followed a long debate on the best way to take the city. Hugues only listened with a distracted ear and let them talk. When the tone began to rise, he decided to intervene and put an end to the palaver.

“We will not lay siege to Vidin," he finally decided, causing astonishment among his vassals. “I have made my decision. We have lost too many men in this futile war, and far greater dangers threaten my daughter."

He asked for his horse to be brought to him.

"Warn the men. Tomorrow at dawn we leave for Constantinople."​

 

[Silverio90]

Finally someone putting Jean in his right position, man really should learn when to keep that mouth closed

 

[Historywhiz]

Quite a lovely scene. This is definitely where Hughes shines, not in the great halls but in the open air with plain and perfect speech.

 

[Werther]

Finally someone putting Jean in his right position, man really should learn when to keep that mouth closed

You're gonna love the next chapter

Quite a lovely scene. This is definitely where Hughes shines, not in the great halls but in the open air with plain and perfect speech.

Thank you! It was hard to write, and even if the chapter is not packed with actions, it is crucial for the story because it opens a new cycle for Hugues' character.

 

[Werther]

Jean struck the shield of the quintain with all his might and it wobbled. The prince felt a pain in his right shoulder, but he ignored it and swung his sword again, cutting the mannequin. He repositioned himself and prepared to strike again when he heard a laugh behind him.

"Another strike, my prince, and your... opponent will eventually ask for mercy."
​

Jacques of Estourteville​

With a laughing face, Jacques of Estouteville approached Jean the Greek. The knight was not very tall and the prince stood a full head taller than him. He made up for his small size with bulging muscles and a bull-like build, forged by years of fighting. Despite his advanced age - he had to be at least thirty years old! - he was still one of the finest swordsmen in the Empire of Jerusalem. The Latin troubadours praised the bravery and deeds of Jacques the Red, a nickname he owed as much to his red hair as to the colour of his clothes.

It was to him that the emperor had entrusted the task of looking after Jean. He had followed him like a shadow on their journey along the Danube from Vidin to Constanta. Jean the Greek had mixed feelings about the knight. The man was not stingy with anecdotes about Jerusalem and the Latins. Through his contact with the knight, the prince got to know his grandfather's subjects better and his French improved considerably. Nevertheless, Jacques the Red remained an uneducated and arrogant knightling who had a habit of annoying Jean with his sharp remarks about the Romans.
​

The army's journey​

"I didn't expect to see you here," said Jean with a touch of reproach in his voice. He felt a little ashamed to have been caught like this, beating a dummy like a squire playing knight. "This part of the camp was deserted and I thought you would be with the others in Constanta, looking after the loading of the ships."

Jacques headed for the rack. "All the ships have not yet arrived and loading will take a few more days. And I'm not a scribbler, this kind of work bores me to no end. I tried to find other distractions in the harbour, but this place is as lost as Al Wajh, my home town. Not even a proper inn or brothel."

He pointed to the quintain with a smile. "This dummy is not for sword training but for mounted charge. I presume the Greeks did not teach you this way of fighting."

The remark did not please Jean. Jacques was right, however, he was not as good with the spear as the Latin knights.

Jacques grabbed a training sword and a shield. "To learn the art of sword dueling, one must... Well, as I tell my whores: some things are better done by two. Let one of the greatest knights in the Holy Land help you. If you're not afraid of taking a beating."

Jean definitely did not like the knight's arrogant tone. Nevertheless, he needed a partner. "If that is your wish, but do not expect me to hold back." He advanced towards Jacques then raised his shield, ready to make him swallow his pride.

Estouteville laughed before moving into position. "I fear the Greek masters of arms are better at teaching the arrogance of their race than the handling of the sword. I don't think I have much to fear."

Jean responded to the spike with a grunt. He stepped forward and, overcome with anger, threw a slanting blow which Jacques parried without difficulty.

"Such ardour, my Prince!" exclaimed the knight before retaliating with a thrust that forced Jean to take a step back. "Surely this makes up for the poor lessons of your instructors."

Irritated by his opponent's reply, Jean slashed left and right, but without much success.

“You have a very poor image of the Romans," replied Jean. “The Empire has been successfully defending itself against the barbarians for centuries!" He went on the offensive again, slashing with more insistence. "Look at Trajan's wall if you don't believe me!

Jean was referring to the Roman wall built between the Danube and Constanta. The building, partly collapsed, was still visible in the outskirts of the small town.

Pressed by his opponent, Jacques had remained on the defensive. But no sooner had Jean slowed down his assault, than the knight retaliated with a powerful blow whose strength surprised the prince. “You mean these few pieces of rickety wall?" smiled Jacques. “They are like your Empire. Old, fragile and have not repelled the invaders considering the number of Bulgarians living in Constanta."

The remark was hurtful, especially to Jean who had been raised in Philippopolis, a city that had also been conquered by the Bulgarians. In anger, he attacked again, lashing out at the knight.

"The Empire took over these lands long ago, by force! The Romans are the greatest warriors in history! They subjugated the world!”

“Oh! The Romans surely," said Jacques, parrying each of Jean's blows with disconcerting ease. “But in your Empire, I've only seen Greeks. My ancestors come from Normandy, but I don't see myself as a northern pagan.”

“That has nothing to do with it!" roared Jean. Driven by anger, he maintained his assaults on the Red, punctuating each of his sentences with a furious sword stroke. "We are Romans! Look around you! Constanta was named after Emperor Constantine the Great!"

“He must have been a very poor emperor for the Greeks to name such an ugly town after him," replied Jacques while deflecting Jean's last attack. The prince was beginning to tire, and he thought it wise to back off.

“This town is the ancient Tomis!" he shouted, replacing his shield. “The city that welcomed Ovid in the time of his exile!"

He avoided mentioning that Ovid had complained endlessly about the little city and mourned its fate. This would have proved the arrogant Latin right.

“Who?" asked the Red.

“Ovid! The greatest Roman poet, who lived during the reign of Emperor Augustus.”

“The one who conquered Persia?”

“Ignorant!" said Jean who, in anger, drew on his meagre strength to attack again. He threw one blow after another, forcing Jacques to back off. "No wonder we consider you barbarians!”

Jean was pushing so hard that his shoulder reminded him of this. He was exhausted and his attacks became less and less effective. Finally, Jacques parried with his blade and the two swords clashed.

"We? You?" asked the knight. “Are you not a Montoire? Are you not the heir to the Empire of Jerusalem?" He gave a blow with his shield that surprised Jean. The prince nevertheless managed to keep his balance and to step back.

“My father is the heir to Jerusalem," he replied while catching his breath. “And I am also called to rule Constantinople.”

“At the rate things are going, you won't be ruling much of anything," said Jacques, this time taking the initiative. “The Greek Empire is in full decay. Even the Mohammedans are revolting. We should abandon their lost cause."
​

The muslim's revolt​

The assaults were increasingly violent and Jean was unable to regain the upper hand over his opponent, who did not seem at all exhausted.

"Abandon the Roman Empire!" he exclaimed in a breath.

“And why not? The Greeks cannot defend themselves, we are even obliged to lay siege to Antioch for them. For eight years we've fought tirelessly for your aunt. Eight years we've watched our people die for a bunch of effeminate cowards. We should go home. You should go home."
​

The siege of Antioch​

As he spoke, the knight was multiplying his attacks and Jean was having the greatest difficulty in parrying them.

“Go home?" he said, taking advantage of a slight lull. “But I have never set foot in Jerusalem. I don't know anything about the customs and habits of the Latins.”

“You will have to learn them, and quickly. For few of us will accept a Greek at the head of the Empire."

Disconcerted, Jean lowered his guard for a moment. A mistake he bitterly regretted when Jacques took the opportunity to place a devastating botte that disarmed him. With a push, the knight threw him to the ground and then placed his sword a few inches from Jean's head.

"And I will help you."

Lying on the ground, Jean looked at Jacques the Red, who now towered over him. He remembered the words spoken by his grandfather after the battle of Vidin. Perhaps I have found my Errard?

He reached out and Jacques lowered his sword to grab him and pull him to his feet.

"Jean?" The prince turned abruptly and discovered a dozen horsemen. With the fighting, he had not heard their arrival. At their head was his wife, Theodora, with her stern face and her thin figure that always made her look like a dying woman.
​

Theodora​

"What are you doing here, my dear? I thought you were in Philippopolis with my mother and our children.”

“We were there," his lilting accent failed to soften his dry, hard voice. "But I have sent Jean and Anne to Constantinople. I am glad to see you, it is a long and unsafe way from Philippopolis to Constanta, and despite our haste, we were afraid we would miss you.”

“Why come all the way here?”

“Raymonde and I have come to tell your father some important news.”

“Raymonde?" he said in surprise. And that's when he saw his sister. Her eyes were reddened and she looked completely devastated.
​

Raymonde​

"Oh, brother," she said with a sob. “We received a message a few weeks ago... My husband, Duke Khaetag, wrote to us... The war... The Caucasus... A battle, he..." Her sister tried to contain her sobs, and the distress in her voice broke his heart. Jean realised that something terrible had just happened.

"Jean the Heir, our beloved father, is dead."
​

The death of Prince Jean the Heir, killed by Duke Irgoglu of Ciscaucasia on 10 September 1305​

 

[Werther]

There were many travel guides to Constantinople, most of them written by Pisan merchants or Frankish pilgrims, and all of them mentioned the imperial necropolis in the Church of the Holy Apostles. But contrary to what was often written in them, there was no trace of sarcophagi within the main edifice. The emperors were buried in two small annex buildings, the heroa of Justinian and Constantine.

It was on the threshold of the latter that Agathe stood. The Empress of Constantinople was reluctant to enter the sanctuary. The heat and the wine were making her head spin and, above all, she did not feel strong enough to face him. For a moment she almost gave up and went back to the palace. But she forced herself to do so: her throne was at stake. The empress ordered her guards to wait for her and she entered the necropolis.

The warm, bright world was suddenly replaced by a cool, dark place. Was it the shock of such a contrast, or was it the effects of the alcohol? In any case, Agathe felt a little dizzy and it took her some time to come to her senses and get used to the darkness. Candles diffused a weak light which allowed her to discover a large and round room surmounted by a dome decorated with a magnificent mosaic. While the centre of the room was empty, the sides were occupied by porphyry and marble sarcophagi that formed a circle. On each of them was inscribed a name: Theodosius the Great, Leo, Saint Theophano, Zoe, Tryphon or Constantine the Great. They did not seem to be arranged in any particular order and mixed eras and dynasties.

Agathe walked across the room to join her father Hugues the Glorious, who was praying in silence before the sarcophagus of Jean the Heir.
​

Jean the Heir​

The moment was so peaceful that she hesitated to call out to her father.

"The artisans have done a good job," she says in a soft voice.
​

Emperor Hugues III the Glorious​

The emperor did not answer. He finished his silent prayer and then lit a candle.

“He would have deserved a recumbent effigy," he said.

“This is not the Greek custom," replied Agathe. ”And it is a great honour to be buried in the heron.”

“Perhaps," said the emperor. “But it is not his place.”

“You seem to share the opinion of Patriarch Germanos," replied Agathe. “He went so far as to call it a 'sacrilege'. Most of my subjects are less virulent or courageous and have not dared to protest... but the parakoimomenos told me the rumours from the palace and the street. The Constantinopolitans disapprove of the burial of a Latin who did not rule alongside the Greek emperors. Especially since there is not enough room in the heroa…”

"Places have been freed up since the sacking," remarked Hugues III. Looters in search of treasure had indeed smashed several sarcophagi. Leo VI's had been knocked over and gutted and Manuel II's had simply disappeared. "But my son should be buried with his ancestors, in the Holy Sepulchre." He turned, revealing a face marked by years and grief. "What do you want?" he asked with a certain coldness.

“You weren't at the council this morning...," she said with a hint of reproach in her voice. “We have urgent business to attend to.”

“You already have an emperor on your council, you don't need two.”

“Philippos wasn't there," she replied embarrassed. “He... doesn't always have his head in the affairs of state." It was an understatement to say that her husband abandoned his office and spent most of his time enjoying the pleasures of the palace.

“A slacker...," replied Hugues disdainfully. “I warned you.”

“Whatever!" cut in Agathe angrily. She knew her father was right, but she didn't like to hear him criticise her husband. "I didn't come here to talk about my husband. And he's not the one leading an army of several thousand men. Soldiers who would be of great use to me in repelling the Usurper's supporters in the west, or the rebels in the east. The Pisans tell me that you have hired several ship captains and assembled a fleet. You could have informed us of your plans so that we could coordinate our forces.”

“There is nothing to coordinate," replied Hugues III. “These ships will not carry my troops across the Straits, to Bulgaria or Greece. We are going back to Jerusalem.”
​

Demobilisation of the troops​

“What?" roared Agathe. She wasn't actually completely surprised. For several months she had pretended not to see or hear anything, but deep down she had expected it. The shock was no less severe. A dull anger rose within her. "So you are abandoning me! Like a coward!”

“Agathe!" Hugues III cut her off. “I hope it's the wine talking, because you're out of line.”
​

“I am the Empress of Constantinople, no line applies to me! As for wine, it brings me the comfort that my husband and father deny me at the moment when I need it most! Just when the world is falling apart around me!”

“I am not responsible for your misfortunes.”

“You are!" shouted Agathe. “To satisfy your ambition, you played with my life and my destiny! It was you who put me at the head of a disintegrating empire!”
​

The Empire 1306​

“In Jerusalem, you were moping around," replied Hugues. “You lamented the fact that you had no future. I offered you an Empire, and you did not refuse it.”

“Because I didn't know it was a poisoned gift! You don't take responsibility for the harm you do to your children, ever! Look at how you treated Hugues!”

“Hugues is dead!" the emperor replied, losing his temper. "As is Jean, my heir. As is Errard. Two sons, a friend, thousands of men and nine years of my life! That is what I have sacrificed for you and this Empire!" A coughing fit interrupted him. When it was over, he turned his back on Agathe and said in a calmer voice: "I will not die in Jerusalem. I will see the Holy City again. And I will take my son's dead body with me.”

“The miserable decisions of the Glorious," said Agathe in a harsh voice. “Take your men, your ships and leave! I don't want to see you again!"

She turned on her heels and headed furiously for the exit. Behind her back, she felt her father turn around and start to hail her...

...But too late, she was already out.​

 

[Specialist290]

Quite the pair of hammer blows there: The death of Jean the Heir, and then Emperor Hughes's decision to seemingly abandon his daughter's newly-won crown to its fate. Obviously I can see the practical reasons for why he wouldn't want to keep his armies away from home for too long, but I can't help but imagine that Hughes is indeed acting out of spite and regret over the "poisoned gift" that has already stolen away so much from his family, both literally and figuratively.

 

[Werther]

Quite the pair of hammer blows there: The death of Jean the Heir, and then Emperor Hughes's decision to seemingly abandon his daughter's newly-won crown to its fate. Obviously I can see the practical reasons for why he wouldn't want to keep his armies away from home for too long, but I can't help but imagine that Hughes is indeed acting out of spite and regret over the "poisoned gift" that has already stolen away so much from his family, both literally and figuratively.

I couldn't have said it better. Hugues knows that he has pushed his empire to the limit. He is clearly bitter about this 'adventure'. Perhaps he has dreamed too big, and his ambition to seize both crowns may well lead to disaster... for both.

I have divided the AAR into 4 books and just added the titles to chapter 1 (The Frankish Usurper) and chapter 14 (The Greek Anarchy). The last two chapters of Book II will be a tribute to two writAARs I like. I hope you will recognise their style.

 

[Werther]

"Jean! Apologise to His Holiness Gilbert!", ordered Jean the Greek to his son. The young prince stood on the parchment-covered table in the middle of the study room and glared at his father.
​

Patriarch Gilbert du Puy du Fou and Prince Jean​

“Never!" he shouted in Greek. “This heretic dared to rebuke me, he should be whipped and hanged!”

“Jean!" intervened the Greek. “You speak of the patriarch of Jerusalem, I demand an apology!"

In response, the young terror jumped off the table and ran out of the room with a final insult.

"Go after him!" ordered Jean the Greek to his guards. “When you have caught him, do not raise a hand to him if you wish to keep it. But take him to my wife Theodora who will find a suitable punishment." The two bowed and then hurried off to find the boy.

"I am sorry, Your Beatitude," said Jean to the patriarch. “He is a strong head who does not realise the honour you are doing him by giving him lessons.”

“It is nothing, my prince," replied Gilbert. “He is a lively boy, as was your great-great grandfather Henri III. We were just talking about the lineage of his brother, the rebellious Hugues the Frank, who proclaimed himself king.”

“Is it extinct?" asked Jean.

“No," replied the patriarch. “It is even, after your line, the oldest male branch of the Montoires. The members of this branch have of course experienced hardship. After his defeat, Hugues the Frank spent the rest of his life in prison and his children chose exile. Some joined military orders, others became mercenaries. But they eventually settled in the far north. Thus Lambert de Montoire is now Count of Onega.”
​

Lambert of Montoire, Count of Onega​

Distractedly, Jean glanced at one of the parchments where a coat of arms very similar to that of the Montoires appeared. "Are these the arms of their house?”

“No, my prince. The Montoires of Novgorod have not changed their name or their coat of arms. It is the younger branch of the Montoires of Tathlith, founded by Prince Jean of Asir, third son of Henri III. The current head of the house is Duke Jean II of Asir.
​

The Montoires of Tathlith​

“My namesakes..."

This harmless remark delighted the patriarch. He seemed seriously interested in the history of the Montoire family.

"Absolutely! The first Duke of Asir was the first Montoire to be named Jean. Traditionally, the Montoires named their children Hugues and Henri, two Capetians names. Hugues was of course the first name of the French king Hugues Capet and it was in his honour that Hugues the Great, the founder of the kingdom of Jerusalem, was named. Henri was not commonly used among the Franks, but this name was chosen by the French king Robert II the Pious for his son. A way of defying the Germanic emperors. So it was in honour of his grandfather King Henri I that Hugues the Great named his son, the future Henri I the Wise.” The patriarch's eyes sparkled with joy, he seemed genuinely fascinated by these historical anecdotes. "The name Jean was chosen by Queen Eusebia Komnenos, the wife of King Henri III the Younger, for her third son. It was a Christian name that was very popular in the Greek Empire at that time.”

“Fascinating," said Jean, with a look that said the opposite. “So Emperor Hugues III chose the most Greek of these names for my father... It seems he had long planned to take Constantinople." Machinically, Jean grabbed another parchment with a coat of arms very similar to that of the Tathliths. "And this one?”

“The coat of arms of the Montoires of Gizeh. A house closer in the order of succession than that of the Montoires of Tathlith, as it was founded by the second son of King Henri III, Duke Henri IV the Diligent.”
​

The Montoires of Gizeh​

“The house of my relative Duke Guichard II I presume?”

“Absolutely, my prince.”

“So which house does this one belong to?" he said, pointing to a final coat of arms.

"A very young branch, the Montoires of Safaga, founded by Duke Onfroy, your first cousin once removed.”
​

The Montoires of Safaga​

“Is his brother André one of them?”

“No, the Duke of Oultrejordain has not founded his own house yet.”

“My prince?" Jean turned and found Jacques the Red waiting in the doorway. The knight bowed to Gilbert du Puy du Fou. "I am sorry to interrupt you in the middle of a history lesson, Your Beatitude, but I must take the Crown Prince to His Majesty.”
​

Knight Jacques the Red of Estouteville​

“Do, sir," replied the patriarch. “An Emperor does not wait."

Jean thanked Gilbert before taking his leave. He then followed Jacques through the maze of the Sage's palace.

“Have you finally got used to life in the Holy Land, my prince?" asked Jacques as he descended the stairs of Irene's tower.

“It's still a bit difficult, my friend," replied Jean. “But I'm getting used to it."

The arrival in Acre, a few months ago, had been a shock. The torrid climate, the spicy food, the Mohammedan dress of the lower classes, the strange Frankish customs of the nobles of the Holy Land... But it was when he visited Jerusalem that Jean had been completely disoriented. The crowded holy city seemed much more dynamic than Constantinople, a little too much so. Everything there was movement, smells and sweat. A chaotic city where a noisy cosmopolitan population was crammed together. If the Holy Sepulchre had amazed him, Jean had been much less impressed by the austere imperial palace.

Fortunately, the court had soon moved here, to the Palace of the Wise. Built high in the Judean Mountains, the building was a patchwork of different architectural styles and had obviously been extended several times since Henri I the Wise. Nevertheless, it was magnificent, as was the view it offered on the mountains. It was secluded and allowed for the peaceful enjoyment of a forest full of game. The cool climate was also ideal for Hugues III, whose health was declining.

"How is the siege of Antioch going?" asked Jean as they passed under archways decorated with statues of the kings of Jerusalem.
​

The Siege of Antioch​

“Oh, it's as boring as any siege," replied Jacques.

“I gave you a mission to occupy your time," said Jean. “Did you talk to my uncle?”
​

Prince Etienne​

“Yes, Your Highness," replied the Chevalier. “As you asked, I tried to worm information from Prince Etienne. But he is far too cunning to confide in me. Fortunately, the same cannot be said of some of his supporters, whose tongues quickly loosen after a few drinks.”

“And?" asked Jean anxiously.

Jacques the Red stopped abruptly. He looked around as if to make sure that no one was spying on their conversation. When he was finally reassured, he said in a low voice: "The rumours are true, my prince. Etienne seems to be attracting many disgruntled lords to him.”

“Who?"

“Lords from Syria, Jerusalem, Upper Egypt," the knight listed. “His supporters are even trying to recruit lords from Arabia. One of them has promised me wealth and land in exchange for my support.”

“Are my uncle and these lords conspiring against the emperor?

“No," replied Jacques. “Of course, there are those who grumble about the "Greek wars" or criticise the laws of the Glorious for encroaching on the "liberties of the nobility". But they are mostly loyal and will do nothing as long as your grandfather is alive. It is you they hate, my lord. Your father was accused of being perverted by the Greeks... but you are Greek.”

“I am the crown prince of Jerusalem," Jean took exception.

“Not for them. There are whispers that they would prefer to see your cousin Onfroy on the throne.”

“Not Etienne?”

“Your uncle is a clever one, my prince. He prefers to be the eminence grise of that idiot Onfroy. Why expose himself when he can control Jerusalem without unnecessary exposure?”

“I should have them arrested and executed!” said Jean.

“You're talking about princes of the blood," Jacques warned him. “Your grandfather will do nothing without proof, and I have none to give you. Keep this information to yourself, my prince. But be ready!"

Jacques the Red tapped him on the shoulder, as if to reassure him, and then set off energetically through the palace corridors.

Eventually they joined the emperor on a terrace which offered a magnificent view of the steep mountains where solid oak trees grew. Seated before a table covered with parchments, Hugues III sipped a cool wine. His drawn features, his dark circles, his thinness, all indicated that the emperor was physically diminished. His mind was nevertheless intact and he still exuded the charisma that so impressed his interlocutors.
​

Emperor Hugues III the Glorious​

“Ha, Jean!" he greeted his grandson. “Take this chair. Sir Jacques of Estouteville was going to report to me, but I thought it wiser for you to be present, so I sent him to fetch you."

Jean the Greek took his seat while Jacques the Red stood and began his report.

"The siege of Antioch is more difficult than expected and the Greeks refuse to negotiate with Prince Etienne. The army has no problems with supplies, but dysentery has taken its toll on our ranks. Apart from that, the men are bored.”

“Is it not possible to take the place by force?” asked Jean.

“That will be very difficult," replied Jacques. “The walls are well defended. The lack of wood has prevented Prince Etienne from building more than one tower, and the sappers are getting nowhere. Besides, our men don't seem particularly motivated and the prince seems in little hurry to make the assault."

The emperor turned to Jean. His penetrating gaze seemed to be gauging him.

“What do you think?" he asked.

“We just need to send more troops," said Jean.

“We have already mobilised 15,000 men for this siege," replied the emperor.

“Troops from the kingdoms of Jerusalem, Syria and some small Arab lords," the Greek listed. “We could bring in troops from Mesopotamia.”
​

The kingdoms of the Jerusalem Empire (the Hierosolymitan part of Algeciras is attached to Syria)​

“You seem to be confusing me with another Hugues III. I am not the king of Mesopotamia.”

“Hugues the White owes you obedience, you appointed him and you can remove him from that position.”
​

King Hugues III the White of Mesopotamia, son of Hugues the Dark​

“No," replied Hugues the Glorious. “I gave the crown to his father and Hugues the White inherited it. It is not just a despot's office that I can take back at will, but a hereditary king's title. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't take it away. And Hugues the White has good reason not to mobilise his troops. His lords like their independence, and they would reproach him for lying down in front of Jerusalem.”

“So let's bring in more Arabs, you are indeed their king."

It was Jacques the Red, himself a native of Arabia, who replied, "They will balk, my prince. The lords of Arabia have already paid a heavy price in the Greek campaign, and they do not feel sufficiently recognized. They are not wrong, they are despised by the other lords…”

“The Lords of Egypt?" proposed Jean.

“There is no more arrogant and proud man than an Egyptian lord," replied Hugues. “Those of Lower Egypt asked, despite being vassals of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, not to participate in this campaign. They claimed that they had to defend themselves against a possible attack from the Greeks in Sinai. In return, their rivals in Upper Egypt requested the same exemption.”

“So let them take Sinai! The Melissenos are just a small provincial family.”

“A small provincial family that twice brought the Greek Empire to its knees”, the emperor retorted. “Do not underestimate the Melissenos. In my youth, the name of Duke Zacharias was feared in Romania as in the Holy Land. The "Scourge of Jerusalem" inflicted two of our greatest defeats. At Katyaion he killed my uncle Jean of Asir, and at Farama he twice slaughtered our soldiers. My uncle Henri the Diligent was not tender, yet he was so afraid of Zacharias that he betrothed my brother Henri the Black to his daughter. The Scourge may be long dead, but many of us remember the danger of the Melissenos. The grandson of the Diligent, Duke Guichard of Cairo, remembers it, as do all the lords of Egypt.”

“Who cares about their fears, you are the emperor! Your word is law and they must obey you! They have a duty to you and the Empire!"

Hugues stared at him for a while, before smiling.

"You may be the heir to the Jerusalem Empire, but you are still Jean the Greek. The emperor took another sip of wine before heaving a sigh. "Do not be deceived by my title of emperor, Jean. I remain the ruler of Jerusalem, and Jerusalem is not Constantinople. I have dedicated my life to the restoration of royal and imperial authority. I have wiped out the concessions Henri III had made to the nobility. I put an end to the Black Years that tore the kingdom apart during my father's reign. But scratch that imperial veneer and you'll find the ambition of the barons. Oh, the old lineages have disappeared one after the other, swept away by the rebellions of the last centuries. But even today, the nobles remember. They remember that our ancestor Hugues the Great was elected by the assembly of the First Crusaders. They remember that the High Court was not always this empty shell but had a say in the affairs of the kingdom. For many of them, I remain the first of the princes, no more, no less. The Empire does not exist, there is only a pyramid of homages of which I happen to be the head. They consider that they have a duty to me because I have a duty to them. It is only my glory and my victories that make them bend for the moment and accept, however grudgingly, my demands for men and money. Never underestimate the influence of great families, Jean. The Greek nobles want to emancipate themselves from the emperor? But in Jerusalem, it is we, the kings, who have emancipated ourselves from the nobles! And it would only take a moment of weakness on our part for them to remind us bitterly of this."

Jean remained silent. Deep down, he could not accept this state of affairs. It went against his education and his world view. He promised himself that the day he came to power he would teach a lesson to these barons.

“As for Antioch," said Hugues the Glorious, "the game is not worth the candle. Conquering the city will not turn the tide of the war. It is useless to empty our coffers and spill the blood of our subjects and vassals." He turned to Jacques the Red. "Estouteville. You will leave tonight for Antioch and deliver a message from me to my son Etienne. Let him return, this war is no longer ours."
​

The end of the Siege of Antioch​

The emperor suddenly seemed most tired. He was seized by a powerful coughing fit, and when it passed, he waved his hand to indicate that it was time for them to take their leave. "You can go, I'm exhausted."

The two men were about to leave, when Hugues III added : "And Jean, talk to the patriarch. His history lessons may be a bore. But he will soon be of great help to you. He will teach you how to become a true ruler of Jerusalem."​

 

[Werther]

Thanks to @Dunaden whose latest AAR inspired me to write this chapter (even if Prince Jean of Montoire is much less studious than his namesake Prince Jan Dunin).

 

[Dunaden]

Thanks to @Dunaden whose latest AAR inspired me to write this chapter (even if Prince Jean of Montoire is much less studious than his namesake Prince Jan Dunin).

Glad to make any small contribution to this epic tale. Prince Jean may be a little too young as of yet to truly appreciate history, but hopefully Jean the Greek will take in some of the lessons his grandfather and the Patrician are trying to impart on how to rule Jerusalem when his time comes.