March (2)
The purple sails unfurled one by one. The East Roman Empire's fleet was departing the harbor, bound for the Black Sea. Onboard that ship was none other than Kerularios' deputy, Anterno. The deputy had boarded to carry out Ioannikios' orders.
"According to intelligence, the rebels are moving toward Lazica."
The rebel Rogerius. Rumors swirled that the Varangian mercenary who killed Basil II had been put up to it by Rogerius. The nobles seized on this aggressively. Because of these rumors, Admiralis Himerios of the imperial fleet—under the emperor's command—was heading into the Black Sea to capture the rebel.
"Moving north, eh? They're in quite a hurry, it seems."
Anterno nodded and continued his report. "His Excellency says the rebel has kidnapped the purple-blooded ones and is holding them hostage. Magistros Excellency hopes Your Excellency will bring both safely back to the palace."
The magistros in question was none other than Ioannikios. Though he hadn't captured the rebel, his feats—killing the Varangian assassin Bjorn and rescuing Constantine VIII from peril—had earned him recognition. Thanks to that, he had become one of the empire's twelve exalted magistroi.
"Zoi Excellency and Theodora Excellency held hostage..."
Himerios trailed off. And rightly so—this whole situation struck him as deeply suspicious. If Rogerius were truly a rebel, there'd be no reason for Zoi and Theodora to accompany him willingly. Even assuming they were hostages dragged along by force, the rebels' path so far had offered plenty of chances to flee. Yet Rogerius' forces had received reinforcements or supplies at every key point along the way. Instinct told Himerios that Zoi or Theodora must have exerted their influence.
"For hostages, they're passing through the north far too peacefully."
"You are under His Majesty's orders, Excellency. Are you now questioning His Imperial Majesty's authority?"
"Are you threatening me?"
Himerios' voice was ice-cold. Anterno snapped to attention and bowed low.
"That was not my intent. I spoke rashly out of worry for the two Excellencies suffering such hardship. I beg your forgiveness."
Himerios waved off the apology with a raised hand. He turned to gaze at the distant port of Trapezunta, now coming into view. The empty harbor made him scowl.
"Didn't they say ground forces from the vicinity would provide support?"
Anterno could only bow his head at the admiral's rebuke—he had no defense. The dux who had promised reinforcements had defied Ioannikios' orders and set up his own independent faction. Dukes governing distant frontiers always maintained their own intelligence networks for self-preservation, a safeguard against being swept up in court intrigues and toppled unawares. Thanks to these, peripheral dukes could detect shifts in the palace immediately.
Himerios belonged to the central forces, so his information on frontier developments was still sparse. He couldn't commit to a clear stance yet. Ioannikios was expanding his power by clinging to Constantine VIII, while countless provincial warlords opposed him. For Himerios, who lacked the influence to establish his own regional regime, the situation was awkward at best.
"...Understood."
For now, Himerios adopted a cooperative stance toward Ioannikios. He planned to obey the most powerful magistros' commands and watch how things unfolded.
As Himerios pondered this, a horn blast echoed from ahead.
"Rebels sighted to the front!"
At the lookout's shout, Himerios and Anterno moved to the rail.
"Not just soldiers—civilians are with them too."
The veteran admiral, long at the helm of the navy, spotted the composition of Rogerius' forces even from afar, as befitted a military expert.
"Why not strike swiftly before they can counterattack, Excellency?"
Himerios shook his head at Anterno's suggestion. "Zoi and Theodora Excellencies might be in there. If they're truly hostages as you say, the rebels won't stand idly by if battle erupts."
A precise observation. Anterno, having raised the point himself, couldn't press further.
"Then what will you do?"
"I'll talk to them first."
Anterno felt a surge of panic inwardly. Negotiating with Rogerius would expose that Zoi and Theodora weren't hostages at all.
"Talking to Rogerius is a poor choice. He'll try to assassinate you just like he did His Majesty."
"I won't die so easily."
The firm reply left the deputy, who could think of no counter, at a loss.
"Prepare a small boat. We're heading to the coast."
At the admiral's order, the crew readied a skiff. Himerios and his aides boarded.
"Why aren't you coming?"
Anterno made a troubled face. "I'll stay here to guard against any contingencies."
"Contingencies. There won't be any—follow me."
"I..."
Anterno backed away, but Himerios' massive aides pressed him, forcing him aboard. As the skiff reached the shore, Varangian soldiers stood ready in battle formation.
"Varangians."
"See, Admiral? They're here to kill you. Order the men to annihilate them now."
Himerios ignored Anterno and signaled for a white flag. The Varangians stirred at the sight. Their leader removed his Varangian helm and stepped forward.
"I am Halvar, Huscarl to Lord Rogerius Yarl. Who are you?"
The hulking Varangian declared himself. Himerios responded in kind.
"Himerios Radinos, Admiralis of the Basilikei Ethereia 11th Fleet. I wish to speak with your lord."
Halvar pointed at Anterno, his fury plain. "No one who brings a dog of the Kerularios clan—the killer of His Majesty—may approach my lord."
Calling Anterno a dog. The deputy erupted in rage.
"It was Varangians who slew great Basil II! You ingrates who bit the hand that fed you—how dare you slander Lord Kerularios!"
"A shameless cur who lies without so much as a change in expression. Loki himself would gape in astonishment at your talent."
Halvar's vitriol cut deep—even nonbelievers would recognize the insult. Anterno lunged to kill him, but Himerios held him back. The admiral was intrigued by Halvar's words.
"The magistros killed His Majesty? Interesting. Can you stand by that claim?"
"I swear it on my Viking honor, by Odin."
Himerios, who had faced countless Vikings as a naval admiral, knew they prized honor and discipline above all. For a Varangian to invoke it and their god in oath—this demanded he meet Rogerius.
"Admiral, these are honorless barbarians. They already assassinated His Majesty..."
"I've heard that."
"Admiral! Have you forgotten the magistros' order? To capture the rebel Rogerius!"
"Yes, I got it."
Himerios waved him off irritably, addressing Halvar instead. "I've fought Varangians for years. I know what your oaths mean. That's why I want to verify if your words ring true."
Halvar bowed respectfully at Himerios' deference to his honor—but his wariness of Anterno remained. Noting this, Himerios signaled his aides. They drew swords on Anterno, who had been their ally moments before.
"Th-this is tr-treason! Admiral! The magistros won't stand for this."
Himerios didn't even reply. Halvar ordered his men, in Varangian tongue, to stand down.
"Follow me, Admiral."
Himerios nodded and trailed him, his aides—and a sword-prodded Anterno—behind. They soon reached a cluster of nomad-style tents, ringed by gathered folk.
"More civilians than I thought."
Far more than visible from the ship. Their dress marked them as local East Roman subjects.
"We started with only the Uranus household's servants, but commoners joined us on the road to Lazica."
"Commoners joined?"
"Chaotic times, after all."
Halvar's curt reply. Spotting a mother and daughter warming by a fire, Himerios nodded silently.
They arrived at the command tent. Before it stood a man speaking with Zoi. The War Terminator himself—yet, unlike his terrifying repute, he appeared not as a warrior, but a benevolent leader.