Recapture (3): Nobles in Chains
The captured nobles, led by Ioannikios, along with his trusted lieutenants Alexios and Devgoros, were all bound tightly. After the palace fell, they had attempted suicide, but the nobles had intervened, tying their hands and feet before dragging them before me.
The reason for this turn of events? The nobles had proposed a deal, offering the lives of these three men to me.
"We... we pay homage to the great Emperor Rogerius."
The man who appeared to be the nobles' representative—a portly fellow with a bulging belly—greeted me with proper deference.
"Was it you who brought Ioannikios, Devgoros, and Alexios to me?"
"N-no, Your Majesty. It was all of us here who banded together to capture these traitors alive."
Behind him, about thirty nobles huddled together, all eyeing me warily.
"I see. And why offer them to me?"
"We heard that Your Majesty led your soldiers to Constantinople to punish the rebels. So we thought we'd lend a hand..."
They drew a clear line, as if claiming no involvement themselves. The others echoed the fat noble, insisting on their innocence.
"This was all Ioannikios's doing alone."
"That's right. He threatened to kill us if we didn't join the plot."
"We are innocent, Your Majesty."
These were the same people who had called me a rebel from atop the walls. Seeing them now, so changed, was almost comical.
"Quiet. So you're saying you have no connection to Ioannikios?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The fat noble spoke up, and I nodded with a smile.
"No connection... I see."
Sensing hope in my words, the fat noble rubbed his hands together eagerly.
"Exactly, Your Majesty. Though it seems some misunderstanding arose from our actions, we'll take full responsibility for the damages and restore everything."
"You'll take responsibility for the pillaging by the Bulgarians and restore it all."
"And we'll rebuild the palace too, so Your Majesty can live in comfort..."
I raised a hand to cut him off, then posed another question.
"You'll also handle restoring the people's homes and their livelihoods in the markets, I presume."
"That doesn't concern us."
"Doesn't concern you?"
"Yes. The people suffered losses, true, but we shouldn't meddle too much in their lives. If we rebuild for them, they'll grow complacent and do nothing."
The fat noble's words were echoed by the others.
"Too much welfare only makes them lazy."
"It'll be painful, but they need to learn to stand on their own."
The nobles' brazen response. I stood, facing them.
"You caused this mess, and because of it, their homes and markets—their very livelihoods—were destroyed. Yet you refuse responsibility?"
"This was Ioannikios's solo act, not ours."
"You watched and profited, yet your tongues wag freely."
"Your words are too harsh, Your Majesty. We only meant well..."
I drew my sword, silencing them.
"At my coronation, amid the citizens' cheers, I declared this."
Aiming my blade at the fat noble's throat, I continued.
"That I would punish all the nobles."
My words unleashed soldiers drawing their swords, surrounding the nobles. They raised their arms, dropping to their knees.
"Sp-spare us, Your Majesty."
"Just spare our lives, and we'll do anything."
"You have two choices."
I addressed them steadily.
"One: die here. The other: renounce your noble status and become commoners."
"Y-you want us to become commoners? That's cruel."
"It sounds like your title matters more than your life."
My sword nicked the fat noble's throat, blood trickling from the tip.
"You thought trading these three lives—Ioannikios and his lackeys—would buy you a deal with me. A delusion. I took the palace by force. So only two paths remain: die as nobles or live as commoners."
"B-but..."
"Choose quickly. My blade knows no mercy."
The nobles yielded. The fat one prostrated himself, begging.
"Sp-spare me, Your Majesty. I... I renounce my noble status."
"Good. You're no longer a noble, so I'll spare you."
Seeing him survive, the others followed, renouncing titles for their lives. They believed their family names and wealth would let them rebuild as commoners.
I had no intention of letting that happen.
"I command you, now commoners: earlier, you promised to do your utmost for restoration. Correct?"
"Th-that was..."
The fat noble, who had dangled that carrot to keep his title, stepped forward to argue.
But I wouldn't allow it.
"Deny it, and you'll be executed for insulting me, your estates confiscated."
Without noble status, no protections shielded them. Commoners had legal rights to their property too, but everyone here knew the consequences of fighting back.
No one dared protest.
* * *
The ashes of Constantinople, the Queen of Cities, reduced to ruin—no one had foreseen this. In the heart of the devastated capital stood Rogerius and Zoi.
Zoi stepped forward first. At her signal, Angelos, Halvar, Himerios, and Chaur brought forward the prisoners: Ioannikios, Devgoros, Alexios, and Nestoric. Blindfolded and gagged, they knelt bound on the platform.
Zoi gazed at them steadily, then addressed the people.
Zoi's fury infused every word. The people roared in response, hurling stones at the prisoners.
"Filthy traitors!"
"Die!"
"Drop dead now!"
The bereft citizens' rage peaked, then ebbed. Rogerius stepped forward.
"Behold, Ioannikios! Witness clearly the horror wrought by the allies you summoned. In countless battles, I faced many foes, but never monsters as vile as you. When Nestoric's Bulgarians torched our homes and ravaged our women, what did you do? While Rome's warriors spilled blood and life to guard the borders, you wallowed in petty power lust from within—what did you do? Assassinating Emperor Basil II was not enough; now you've fed the empire to foreign wolves. How can we call you human? At my coronation, I declared: I shall be the empire's sword of judgment. Today, that sword first cleaves not border enemies, but you who stabbed kin in the back! My blade demands your lives, traitor. Starting with you, I will hunt every rat lost in power games, dragging the people's lives to ruin, and scatter them as fertilizer on this scorched earth."
The crowd echoed Rogerius' cry, demanding summary execution.
"Kill them!"
"Punish Rome's betrayers!"
"Sever Nestoric's head for burning Constantinople!"
As the fervor built, Rogerius turned and continued.
The executioner ascended the platform, axe raised for a single stroke. The crowd went wild at his menacing form.
"Executioner, take the traitors' lives! Wash the empire's wounds with their blood!"
At Rogerius' command, the axe fell. Ioannikios, once ruler of the East Roman Empire, dissolved into the morning dew of the scaffold.