Omen (1)
On the way back from my audience with the emperor, as I returned to the Uranos family lands, Alberto greeted me.
"You've had a hard journey, master."
"Indeed."
I handed him a small chest I had brought from Georgia, saying this. Alberto stared at me in astonishment upon receiving it.
"What is this?"
"It's something precious—keep it safe. I'll present it to His Majesty tomorrow when I see him again."
A gift for the emperor. Hearing this, Alberto hurriedly hid the chest in his bosom with a startled expression.
Leaving Alberto behind, I returned to my office.
"Still the same mess as ever."
Piles of documents that had been stacked high even before the war. Despite my return, they showed no sign of diminishing; everything was exactly as I had left it. Alberto wouldn't have neglected them. That meant these stacks of paper had arrived today or quite recently.
"Gives me a headache already."
The mere sight of them brought on a throbbing pain, so I sank into my chair. My thoughts drifted back to what the emperor had said.
"Marriage, huh."
When the emperor had asked what reward I desired, I had immediately requested marriage to Zoi, a member of the imperial family.
"It lightens the emperor's political burdens."
From Basil II's perspective, marriage was indeed a political liability. As I kept mentioning, I was a foreigner from Varangia, the land farthest from civilized Rome—practically at odds with civilization itself. For a Porphyrogenita to wed such a man? Basil II had once married off his sister to the Rus Tsardom, but this was a different matter entirely.
Vladimir I was the undisputed hegemon of the eastern realms, ruler of vast territories, and the savior who had rescued Basil II from the dire rebellion of old. In contrast, I was the youngest son of the Norman Hauteville counts—not even one who had inherited land, but a Viking who had sailed to Italy for plunder. Of course, now as heir to the Uranos house, that stigma had faded somewhat. Still, blood ran deep; it was only natural for the nobles to cling to it.
If the emperor himself announced a marriage between Zoi and me, the nobles' backlash was inevitable. Better for me to step forward and express my desire to wed Zoi, framing it as a request to His Majesty.
"History called Basil II emotionless, didn't it?"
In any case, whether my intent had hit the mark precisely, the emperor had been so delighted upon hearing me that he embraced me. I had already sensed his surprising emotional depth from the Excel spreadsheets and the Bulgarian wars. But this surpassed it by leaps and bounds. His nods of approval at every word I spoke felt almost burdensome.
"Maybe I shouldn't present the treasure from Georgia after all."
His favor toward me had already peaked. In this state, was there any need to offer a gift—especially Georgia's national treasure, revered as one of the world's?
"No. Holding onto it myself could prove dangerous."
To be precise, it was a treasure coveted by the entire Christian world. The treasure from the Georgian palace: the Holy Tunic.
"I can't confirm if it's truly the robe Jesus wore on the cross, but..."
John 19:34. Jesus was crucified and died. To verify his death, the Roman soldier Longinus pierced his side with a spear. Legend held that the blood that sprayed cured Longinus's blindness, leading him to preach Christ's gospel—a tale still known today. That spear became a holy relic, wandering the world.
Along with it emerged another relic: the robe Jesus wore, pierced by Longinus's spear. Commonly called the Holy Tunic. Legend said the Kingdom of Georgia possessed it, and raiding the palace had proven it true.
"The spear's puncture holes and bloodstains match perfectly, so it must be authentic. Or I could test it against the real thing."
The reason for offering the Holy Tunic to the emperor? Naturally, because he possessed Longinus's spear. In modern times, it was said to be held by the Papacy. But at this point, records suggested the Eastern Romans had it.
Of course, it was a hypothesis. During the Crusades, a monk named Pierre claimed to have found Longinus's spear in Antioch Cathedral, declaring it genuine, while Bohemond insisted it was fake. Conflicting interests made it hard to confirm Antioch's spear as true.
Yet there was a record of the Crusaders—who temporarily toppled Eastern Rome—hastily removing a mysterious chest. After that, most believed the Papacy held Longinus's spear. Knowing this history, I could only conclude the Eastern Roman emperor had it.
"The Holy Lance and Holy Tunic. With both relics, the emperor would wield unimaginable power."
Basil II had crushed two rebellions by force, yet tensions with the nobles persisted. Since the fall of the ancient Roman Republic and the rise of the Principate, emperors and nobles had clashed endlessly. Even with absolute imperial might, it was an intractable issue spanning millennia.
But if Basil II acquired the Holy Lance and Holy Tunic? He would gain unequivocal support from the Church—practically omnipotent authority.
One might think this only benefited the emperor. In truth, it favored me more.
"Marrying Zoi means her inheritance becomes mine."
Marriage to Zoi. My affection for her was genuine motivation. Yet as heir to the Uranos house, I couldn't approach it purely emotionally. It was a political union. For House Uranos, allying with the Macedonian dynasty solidified power and positioned us to claim the throne through purple-blooded marriage.
For the Macedonians, wedding into Uranos extended the emperor's influence. With no suitable heir in the direct line, marrying Zoi or Theodora to a power player ensured the family's survival post-abdication.
With these interests aligned, upon the twilight emperor's death, co-emperor Constantine VIII would ascend. Old and ailing with chronic illness, he wouldn't last. Then the surviving Macedonian sisters, Zoi and Theodora, would be the heirs.
If Zoi became empress, her husband—I—would naturally become co-emperor. I aimed for this, offering the Holy Tunic to bolster Basil II's power in advance.
"And it builds personal goodwill too."
Since becoming the Uranos adoptee and receiving Constantine VIII's marriage proposal, I had instinctively felt myself drawn toward the empire's power center.
"I didn't come to Eastern Rome chasing power, but there's no turning back now."
I hadn't sought power. I came as a hostage for my brothers, gained experience through wars, caught the eye of the mighty, and suddenly found imperial recognition and alliances with key players.
In this position, feigning disinterest in power would be impossible. The emperor, knowing my secrets, wouldn't tolerate it—treason in his eyes. Recalling how he executed Phokas, I was aboard an unstoppable train.
Thus.
"I must head for the end."
The path to power. No road back.
The nobles gathered in the palace. Ioannikios Keroularios, leader of the noble faction, approached imperial steward Leonus to gauge the situation.
"Lord Kalaphates, do you know why His Majesty summoned us all here?"
"Ah, Lord Keroularios. It seems he's called everyone to honor Lord Uranus's feat in the Georgian campaign—capturing the enemy king."
Ever sensitive to information as imperial steward, Leonus knew even what the nobles hadn't yet heard: the capture of George I.
Stunned, Ioannikios stared at him and asked,
"Why didn't you inform us of such vital news beforehand?"
The Uranos house's rapid rise. Already mighty, it became the empire's most renowned military house after adopting the Varangian Rogerius. Their prestige now overshadowed even the emperor's right hand, the Komnenos family.
They had clashed once over guild issues, but Zoi's betrothal had come first, forcing restraint. That decision rested on the premise that united nobles could check Uranos's dominance.
But capturing George I changed everything. He had ended the Georgian war—a feat no coalition could block.
"I only learned yesterday myself. My apologies for not informing you sooner."
Leonus replied with serpentine slyness. He allied with the nobles only where interests aligned; he didn't want them growing stronger. It would harm his adoptive son Michael's path to the throne and House Kalaphates's dominance. He schemed for both sides to exhaust each other, positioning himself to seize the spoils—hence deliberately withholding the news to provoke conflict.
Utterly unaware of Leonus's designs, Ioannikios could do nothing even if he knew. He merely scowled at the response, adding nothing more.