Reconstruction (1)
As we arrived, Angelos and Ioannis stared in astonishment. It was only natural—they had requested support from the nobles who were now chasing us. Yet here we were, having turned the pursuing imperial navy to our side. No wonder they were stunned.
"This is utterly unbelievable."
"Indeed it is, Lord Angelos."
Unlike the shocked pair, I had no time to indulge their surprise. My weary troops, exhausted from the long march, needed rest immediately. But there was no suitable place to house them all. As I'd mentioned before, this land had been a recent battlefield, leaving few buildings to shield against rain and wind.
Fortunately, several churches remained intact, so we repurposed them as temporary shelters for the soldiers.
"Can you look after the men?"
"Don't worry. Theodora and I will handle it."
Zoi and Theodora gladly took charge of guiding everyone to resting spots. I thanked them and summoned Alberto to assist. Then I called Alton, Bachana, and Halvar aside.
"We may face unexpected threats, so select some soldiers for night watches."
Assassins from the nobles could strike at any moment. We couldn't lower our guard completely.
With all orders issued, it was time to discuss the Turks. I summoned Angelos and Ioannis to a private chamber.
The two stood before me. Though slightly awkward, they observed the formal etiquette due an emperor before taking their seats.
"You summoned us."
"We answer the Emperor's call."
From Zoi's explanation, they knew I was now her consort and co-emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire. It felt strange hearing former comrades address me this way. Still, acting as before could undermine our foundation, so some distance was necessary.
I raised my hand in acknowledgment, accepting their courtesy, then cut straight to the point.
"What of the Turks' movements?"
Ioannis, at my side, began the report.
"Before Your Majesty arrived, a schism arose among the Turks."
"A schism?"
"Yes. Some wished to return to the steppes, others to stay here. Their arguments escalated to violence."
The steppes. These were nomads, after all—herding livestock, seeking grazing lands, migrating with the seasons. That much was their nature.
But something didn't add up. They had abandoned their old lives to come to Rome, lured by the guild's promise of great wealth. Why return to the steppes now?
"They forsook their ways to join the guild and seek Rome. Suddenly wanting to go back makes no sense."
"It seems their experiences in the Georgian war—good or ill—changed them."
The Turkic nomads had earned great merit in the Georgian campaign. Without them, we couldn't have captured the enemy general Ioannikios or the Georgian king. They led every perilous charge, giving their all. I honored their service by granting them the right to plunder valuables from the Georgian palace.
"Especially those who sold palace treasures and made fortunes—most of them now want to return to the steppes."
A single item fetched enough to buy dozens of horses. Satisfied with their windfall, some nomads yearned for their old life.
With the Turks thus divided, I needed to know their remaining numbers.
"I want to meet Arslan."
"We'll prepare at once."
I nodded to Ioannis and rose.
The Turks' encampment. With the Georgian lands in ruins, most had pitched yurts like those they'd brought. As Ioannis said, their numbers had visibly dwindled.
As I arrived, two riders approached from afar. One was my retainer Chaur; the other, the Turkic chieftain Arslan.
They dismounted before me and paid their respects.
"We see the Khan."
"We see the Khan."
I acknowledged their gesture with a raised hand and spoke.
"I've heard many changes occurred in my absence."
Arslan looked troubled. Chaur stepped forward, bowing low in apology.
"Forgive us, Khan. Of the promised three thousand mercenaries, one thousand could not fulfill the contract."
A larger number than expected—one-third had departed. I wanted details.
"Explain fully."
"Well..."
As Ioannis had said, some nomads, content with their plunder, chose the steppes. But not all; some had answered Chaur's brother Tughril's call and moved to northern Persia.
"Tughril's call?"
"Yes. My brother Tughril has risen high in the Karakhanid court. He summoned the clan to settle there, and some followed him."
Nomad society was like a vast tribal network. Even a chieftain lacked the state's power to compel them. Force was an option, but blood ties made it messy.
Moreover, the Georgian war's heavy losses had weakened Arslan's position, allowing Tughril's summons to lure away followers. It was common in history—Genghis Khan himself left his kinsman Anda's service to forge his own path when their visions clashed. Nomad life was one of constant splitting and merging.
What mattered to me was the thousand gone—and that they joined Tughril I, who would build a mighty empire.
As I pondered gravely, Chaur bowed as if guilty of a mortal sin.
"I beg forgiveness, Khan. Failing the contract twice is a debt we couldn't repay even in death."
Two failures: once from catastrophic losses in Georgia, causing desertions. By results, yes, twice. They'd failed me twice, despite my granting them plunder.
From my view, it was a blessing in disguise. I'd feared rebellion upon hearing my plight, but this guilt could bind them psychologically.
"Does this mean the Turks lack honor, failing contracts twice?"
Chaur looked mortified, unable to deny actions that spoke louder than words.
"I didn't press the first breach, understanding your losses, and shared plunder as reward for your efforts."
My words made them seem worse than beasts. Chaur and Arslan hung their heads in shame.
"Yet you took the rewards, broke the contract without a word, and left. What choice does that leave me?"
I invoked Basil II's promise of Lazica lands, where the emperor had allowed settlement.
"Why should I honor the emperor's grant of permanent residence in Lazica?"
Chaur and Arslan paled. Ioannis, knowing the full context, whispered,
"Press too hard, and they may rebel."
He had a point. But nomad negotiations were a battle of wills—showing weakness here was fatal. I stood firm.
"Answer me, Arslan and Chaur."
Arslan stepped forward, bowing deeply like a beggar for mercy.
"Winter approaches. Leading children and women across the steppes then means certain death. Grant us mercy, I beg."
His plea rang true—they'd kept the vulnerable: children, women, elders. Otherwise, all would have followed to Khorasan.
True or not, it didn't matter. We held their families, giving me leverage.
"Very well. I trust you. But to stay in Lazica, become my people and obey my commands."
Chaur eyed me cautiously.
"Does that mean... we become the Khan's subjects?"
"Yes. I am Khan of Lazica. To dwell here, respect my authority and fulfill military duties."
Becoming subjects meant more than bowing: taxes, labor, warfare. Obvious to us, alien to free nomads.
"As subjects, we can live in Lazica?"
"Yes. But obey orders—abandon the nomad life entirely."
Chaur and Arslan exchanged glances, as if by prior agreement. They bowed deeply and cried out,
"We will follow our lord!"