For Christendom and wealth! A tale of Greek Nubia.

[Lordling]

Our tale begins far back, in 1042, on Christmas Day. It was on this day that a boy named Andronikos Phokas claimed to have been born. It was said that this was an auspicious omen for the rest of his life, and his family believed he would do well in the priesthood with such an omen at his back, for their fortunes had long fallen.

Fifty years ago, the patriarch of the Phokas family, Bardas Phokas, had led a rebellion against the great Basil, known as the "Bulgar-slayer". In this rebellion he failed greatly, and his family were disinherited of almost all their wealth. A few scraps remained, enough to sustain their lives for some time, yet the Phokas family had been soundly removed from power. With Rome itself failing, their ancient lands in Asia Minor had been taken from them.

In this wise, one of their youngest sons, Andronikos, found himself without an inheritance, nor a profession to go into. Normally, he would've passed out of the annals of history without a single footnote to herald his departure. However, young Andronikos was an enterprising man.

Without a single penny to his name, he recruited a small group of confidates, a mere five armoured knights, each of whom who led another ten unmounted men, and, having heard of the mystical Christian kingdoms of the south, decided to lead his band of men to the south, whereupon they would make contact with these kings, and bring word of them back to the Emperor of Rome himself, upon which they would be richly rewarded for making such grand allies with whom to fight against the Moslem foes who so sorely pressed the Empire.

Of course, plans never work out quite as they are laid..

 

[Lordling]

Andronikos stripped off the last piece of padding that he had worn over the past few days. Riding through Egypt had been a long and onerous chore, especially considering the contemptuous manner in which they had been treated by every Muslim they had come across. As the power of Rome faded in the north, the Muslims of the south considered abuse of her servants as, apparently, nothing less than their due.

He shifted uncomfortably, and itched his clothes. Sand was everywhere. They had been forced to ride from the Nile, so that their pursuers could not find them.

Oh, yes. He'd almost forgotten, what with the heat, the lack of water, and the endless dunes of sand, they had been pursued hotly. To the north somewhat, in some horrible city, a few local guards had decided to investigate the purpose of these strange Christians heading south. Having already made up their minds that they deserved a few coins for this investigation, they demanded money from his retinue.

Andronikos had, of course, refused. It was one thing to offer twelve solidii, however debased they were, in order for the Muslim lords to the north to promise them safe conduct, but it was another thing entirely to pay a few petty timewasters. He had refused, and the guards had drawn their swords on him.

That was their last mistake. Their first one, of course, but he wasn't in the mood for letting impertinent heathens live. Dressed in turbans, with their strange little curved swords, his own broadsword had cut through them with ease.

Now the whole damn town was after him.

He and his men were faster, of course, and rampaging mobs had to stop eventually, but he probably should've paid the gold coin. No - his pride was worth more than any petty guard's life. They had fled the Arabs for almost half a week, now, and it seemed as if this group of people were unstoppable.

"My lord?"

"Yes, Michael?"

Michael Gidus, his best friend. The young man was only eighteen- and Andronikos was twenty-two, yet they'd been friends ever since he could remember. Michael was the man who stood by him and tried to stem the damage that came from the fact of his existence.

They were two very different men. Andronikos was charming, a warrior with few peers, a talented scholar, and a man who could move as quietly as a panther, if his brother was to believed, and Michael was ordinary. Yet it was Michael who always ended up ensuring that his plans did not go too far awry, and, in the case of his exploration, it had seemed as if they would've been stopped at several points.

Michael had kept them going.

So Andronikos gave great weight to his words, as it seemed that Michael managed to pull him out of trouble often and easily.

"They have stopped following us."

"You are certain?"

"I am, my lord. We have scouted behind, and ahead. It seems another land lies ahead of us. A small settlement sits next to the Nile, and, further up, the residents there tell tales of a city further to the south. They are not the same people as the Arabs."

Andronikos's face suddenly contained an uncontrollable grin.

"We've found them!"

Michael's face remained carefully neutral.

"Perhaps, my lord. Perhaps not. We should-"

"Michael, we will find this great city! There, surely, lies the king of this land."

"It is named Makuria, my lord. Their king is named Georgios. The city, Dongola."

"You have done well, Michael."

"Thank you, Andronikos. It's been too long since I've seen fellow Christians. I will be good to see a place with the sign of the cross again."

Andronikos laughed.

"Amen to that, my friend. I am curious, though. How have you found so many that speak languages even as far south as this?"

Michael smiled.

"I told you it was a fine idea to bring Alexios along. A scholar of languages he may be, and useless otherwise, as you said, but in this case, he understands many words they use."

"Bring him to my tent when we camp for the night. I would learn the language of this place. We must be able to speak with their king."

A respectful bow, tempered by years of friendship.

"Of course, my lord."

 

[Lordling]

Georgios intoned the words carefully.

"And so, you, friends in Christ, we shall grant to you a home in my lands, and knowledge of all that has transpired in our time, so that you shall have many useful tales to tell to your Emperor. It is well that you have come here. For I have heard tales of great Rûm, and her exploits against the Muslims to my north."

It had been six months since they had first tried to meet Georgios. Six months of waiting in Makuria, six painful months that had left them with little hope that the King of Makuria would act in Rome's favour. It was not that he lacked faith, or courage, truly.

It was that he lacked men. For Makuria was a spacious and unsettled land, with few enough cities giving it strength to draw from, no lords as in the Roman Empire, few enough powerful men apart from the king himself. Georgios estimated that a thousand men would come at his call, but no more. Perhaps two thousand in half a year, at best. It was not wealthy, and the lands, while often fertile, lacked the populace of Egypt to the north. In truth, it was all the king could have done to defend his lands, let alone expand further north. It seemed unreasonable.

Three days ago, they had first met with the King, and, today, they had met him again.

It was here that Andronikos had a second idea, greater than his first. It happened in an instant, while he was speaking to Georgios in his small palace gardens, sitting with the king under the shade of a small, scrappy tree.

"Are you at all related to the Emperor of Rûm?", he asked.

No. No. It would be a lie. A sin against God. Yet.. what harm could it do? If the Emperor at home caught word of his "son" in Makuria, he would merely state it was a peculiarity of the people there, a sign of their strangeness, if you will. It would be, he knew, great to feel strong

"Yes. I am his fourth son."

"Oh! Then you are a great man indeed."

"No. My father wished me to travel south to prove my worth to him, for he had always seen me as the least of his sons. I agreed to do so, in hopes that we could find allies here."

Georgios stared at his hands intently.

"Do you suppose.."

"Suppose what, your majesty?"

"It is nothing. I am old, and I have seen many seasons pass without the birth of a son. Many move against one another, and I fear my kingdom will be torn from the inside-out before the Muslims even make the slightest move towards me. Makuria will die, and there are none I trust to hold it."

Excitement leapt within his heart. He knew of this, Georgios's barrenness, his three successive wives - all for nothing, and he knew of the man's admiration of the great Empire of the north. Every tale he told, of Konstantinopolis, of the armies of Rome, of her great palaces, her horsemen, her struggle against the Muslim armies of the east.. all of them served to merely heighten his belief that Rome could save him.

It had only taken him a few days, and he had convinced Georgios that Rome could send him armies enough to raze Egypt to the ground, if he had but a way to get them sent. Georgios loved his kingdom, and, in this, he had stumbled. For Andronikos was a scheming man, and he had slowly worked the king around to believing that he could get the men sent.

"I would see you my heir."

"Your majesty! We have known each other for but a few days!"

"Imagine it! You would rule Makuria as my successor, with the aid of Rome from afar. Your father would be most pleased, and you could succour my people. Together, we could smash the Muslims! You I can trust, for you have no desire for land, no desire for wealth, merely to serve Christ, as I do!"

A pause. If he played this right, the king would continue with this course.

"Very well, Georgios. Announce it as soon as you feel ready."



Two weeks later, after many discussions, Georgios announced it in front of his meager court. His family was disinherited in favour of a foreigner. A foreigner who could speak their language, admittedly, but a foreigner nevertheless. The hubbub was deafening, yet Georgios quietened them down.

"Andronikos will take the throne only for a generation. His sons shall not rule after him - he shall choose a Makurian successor for himself, once he has acquired the aid of Rûm, and defeated our enemies to the north. Stand not against him, for he seeks only to aid you. He shall not change the ancient law, nor our ways or customs. He is a general who shall rule, not a true king."

Andronikos stood.

"I am a foreigner to your ways, and I seek only to further Christ's Word. Rule your own lands as you have done, I hold only to lead your armies, and those that I will bring."

In peaceful times, this would have brought rebellion. Yet Makuria was tottering - every lord could feel civil war about to explode, and the raiders of the north grew more bold with every passing month, ready to invade, and pick up the scraps.

So only grumbling was heard, and no rebellion against the throne.



Two months later, early Christmas Day, Georgios lay dead, spittle flecked with orange, bloating far before he should have done so.

And a new king ruled in Makuria.

 

[unmerged(87106)]

First Comment!

Interesting, good start



First Comment!,
asd

 

[OneiricRose]

Nice I want to see the nubians in greek clothes speaking greek

 

[General_BT]

Hopefully you have some luck as Nubia. I've never been able to get them to survive long without some "Divine Intervention" (f12 die on a host of the Fatimids)

 

[phargle]

I promise to laugh every time I read the name Phokas.

 

[Enewald]

interesting... I shall follow.
a coptic kingdom?

 

[Lordling]

asd21593: Glad to have you. Hopefully, I'll manage to get through this one.

TheConqueror: Hah.. not quite. While the kings are Greek, you don't transform a whole country overnight. In fact, it just makes for more friction.

General_BT: The Fatimids always, always collapse in my games. Their initial king is an idiot, and after a few years, you have a bunch of independent sheikdoms in Judea and Jordan.

phargle: Well, you can pronounce it that way. But it sounds so undignified.

Enewald: The rulers being Orthodox Greeks, the faith of their people, too, will come more in line with that of Constantinople over time.

Sorry I haven't updated, but every time I manage to start an AAR, life immediately conspires so that I can't get to the computer for days on end. Update coming now.

 

[Lordling]

Chapter One: Initial Rule

When one begins the history of Phokid Makuria, it is always wise to begin with the first Greek king there, Andronikos Phokas. No-one truly knows how he attained the position of king. In the official Makurian histories of the time, it is said that he was so beloved by the Nubian king that he was appointed his heir, in place of other Nubians.

More likely, however, (and the consensus among historians), is the possibility that he took his knights, slew the king, and, with superior Greek arms and armour, imposed his will over the nobles by taking hostages from among their number. While this is not recorded in either the histories, or his diaries, it was a common form of the imposition of rule, and it is certain that, in any other way, he could not have enforced his rule, even if the king had made him his heir.

Andronikos Phokas, first Greek king of Nubia.​

While we know from his writings (and his many victories) that Andronikos was a noted scholar, a military genius, a masterful theologian, and a charismatic negotiator, it is also curious to note that, for the first few years of his life, he operated largely alone. While he appointed a steward to manage his affairs, a marshal to ensure the loyalty of his troops, and other traditional court members, his court did not take many actions. Rather, when it was possible, one found Andronikos taking the lead almost everywhere he could.

The incredibly dynamic young king, however, was not recognized by any of the kings of Europe, and the Muslim lords of the north and east had no real love for him. It is unusual, then, that the Emperor of Rome, a Dukas, sent him over five hundred pounds of gold in gifts, in return for his nominal allegiance. While Makuria was in no way a part of the Roman Empire, Andronikos was willing to bend his neck to the old Emperor's pride, in order to gain monies for his kingdom.

Records of that time also show that Andronikos sent over a hundred Nubians north, to serve as a personal guard for the Emperor. The Emperor was plagued by court intrigues, and did not have a single unit that would serve him unhesitatingly. Despite taking the cream of his army away, this gift to the Emperor of Rome gave Andronikos precisely what he needed to build up Nubia.

Two months into his reign, Andronikos had cultivated a strong relationship with the Emperor, and, as a matter of more importance, had found himself a bride. The Phokas family, while noble, was hardly recognized as rightful kings of Nubia, and, quite simply, he needed to legitimize his rule in the eyes of other Greeks.

Choniatissia, his wife-to-be, was the third daughter of the minor Count of Kaneia, who could muster barely five hundred men to his name. Despite this, it gave him a tenuous link to legitimacy within Romanion. As future years will show, when Romanion's strength increased, this legitimacy was to have great effect.

However, despite having cultivated strong links with the only major Christian entity nearby, and his initial popularity among his Nubian subjects, the real test of Makuria was soon to come. In the north, the Fatimid Kingdom, mustering over twenty thousand men, looked greedily upon the tiny kingdom. And despite all his generalship, Andronikos admitted in his diaries he had no hope against such odds.

With building programs instigated in all of his lands, more men being raised every day, and the treasury seeing incomes it had not seen for hundreds of years, Nubia looked to be a grand target to siphon away the unrest and rebelliousness that the Fatimid King faced..

 

[phargle]

Phokas, ho!

 

[Enewald]

Ho, Phokas, Ho!

Good luck with the infidel!