supply line win wars. Unless Sophia can change that she's relying on luck.
Keep a pin in that thought.
Looks like the Tourmarches need to abandon Anatolia to defend the capital.
Don’t think the Syrians will be likely to rush back to the Levant to face the Egyptians without dealing with the army of suffering first. So secure Anatolia first which leaves the capital surrounded from both sides……if the Tourmarches lose naval supremacy they’re toast.
This is probably where Leo Kalomeros turns into Vice Admiral Nelson. Until Sophia can start winning the logistics and resource war tactical victories are just delaying the inevitable, Leo having some huge victory which gives them naval superiority will go a long way to doing that.
And also keep a pin in that thought regarding naval superiority and its importance.
Short term biggest news is probably one line of Bulgarian and Thracian tagmata being defeated. Odds evening up.
Long term abandoning Anatolia for Thrace cannot be a win resource wise. Good news for Sophia.
Still, I really really hope this is the last civil war.
This being the last civil war, bar some 20th century style ideological civil war (and I have no plans for such an event), is as set-in-stone as pretty much anything can be in my long-term planning.
Some way to remove bad officials when the emperor won't would need to be implemented.
"Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable."
Pretty much. The issue is that the Emperor's whim really is the supreme law.
* * *
Rhomania’s General Crisis, part 15.0-A Compromised Position:
The forces of Nereas and Gyranos finally link up again at Pergamon on August 10. The Strategos of the Varangians is breathing fire against his colleague, infuriated at his extremely poor showing as a blocking and supporting force. But when he arrives in the city, he is surprised to see someone he did not expect and who he cannot ignore. It is Strategos Plytos.
The unofficial head of the Tourmarches, and of the war hawk faction in general (such a statement should be regarded with caution, as it implies a degree of organization that is greater than reality), Konstantinos Plytos is not happy about having to leave Constantinople. The Queen of Cities has been described as simmering, never actually boiling over, but constantly threatening to do so. It is a pot that needs to be watched.
Plytos is not there with the Athanatoi. His coming in person while leaving the guard tagma in the capital was both to speed his movement and to compromise between the need for him to keep things cool in the capital and for him to get down to Thrakesia before something even worse happens. He is concerned to avoid a public breach between Nereas and Gyranos, worrying that a row will undermine the image of the Tourmarches, threatening their legitimacy. Given their power is derived through personal, rather than institutional, connections, this is a perennial issue.
Plytos, using his command authority as Strategos of the seniormost guard tagma, takes control of the situation and promptly begins reassignments. The first step is to relieve Gyranos of his command of the Akoimetoi, although he keeps his rank of Strategos and all its pertinences. This is ostensibly so he can focus on his duties as Primmikerios (Commandant) of the War Room, a task for which he is clearly much better suited. It will also keep him in Constantinople.
Meanwhile, Nereas is to take the Varangians and Akoimetoi and redeploy to Thrace. Plytos wants him out of Thrakesia to hopefully help clear the poisonous air, and the situation in eastern Bulgaria merits the reinforcements anyway. The offensive in Thrakesia is abandoned, with the loyalist forces in the area to fall under the command of the Opsikian Strategos. Both the Opsikian and Optimatic themes, wealthy, populous, and untouched by war, are rapidly bringing new tourmai of fresh recruits into the line and these can make up for the withdrawal of the guard units.
With all that settled, the three Tourmarches decamp. Nereas heads for Europe via the Hellespont, while Plytos and Gyranos travel together and reach Constantinople via the Bosporus. Practically as soon as they reach the capital, the pair hear dramatic news from Thessaloniki.
It becomes known as the White Tower affair. The White Tower is a tower on Thessaloniki’s waterfront in the southeast part of the old city, which had been constructed during the reign of Theodoros IV to improve the city’s harbor defenses. Rather than being aloof by residing in the citadel overlooking the city, Sophia had sought to gain popular support by residing in the Tower amongst the inhabitants. She had also sought to make herself publicly visible and accessible to the people, frequently making processions along the waterfront and attending events in the city.
On the same day Nereas enters Pergamon, Sophia exits the White Tower with her entourage to attend a concert, greeted and cheered by a crowd as she does so. The guard is minimal because Sophia doesn’t want to present an air of aloofness. Then a man in the crowd pushes himself forward and fires a kyzikos at Sophia. It misfires, but the assassin then hurls himself at her, plunging a knife at her neck. He strikes once, with a spray of blood spurting from his victim’s neck, before the guards can seize him.
The wounded person is not Sophia. It is Zoe, Michael Pirokolos’s eldest daughter, and a lady-in-waiting and best friend of Sophia. The assassin, a native of Serres and unfamiliar with Sophia’s appearance, had mistaken the taller and more beautiful woman for the Empress. Her wound, while dramatic and ugly, is not fatal, although it easily could have been. It was deflected from a vital artery by an amulet Zoe had been wearing to ward off the evil eye.
The captured assassin is interrogated and tortured for information. He’d been recruited by agents from Constantinople, armed and advised by them, and promised a large cash payment upon success of the mission. Although the interrogation does not reveal this to Sophia, the agents had not reckoned the man’s chances of success or survival to be that high, but his loss was not reckoned as much of a loss, while if he succeeded, the gains would be spectacular.
Sophia is absolutely furious, less at the attempt at her own life, than by the fact that Zoe nearly lost her own. She is determined to maintain her popular touch and access to the people, which has proven so effective in securing support, but her wrath must be sated and an example made. The man’s immediate family in Serres is arrested, carted to Thessaloniki, paraded through crowds that vilify and abuse them, and then executed on the spot where the assassination attempt had taken place.
Their deaths were at least as quick and painless as a Long Knife can make them. The assassin, forced to watch the execution of his family, is then tortured, his end finally coming when four horses, one each tethered to a limb, pull him apart. The watching crowd applauds the whole show.
* * *
The War Room, Constantinople, September 2, 1662:
Andronikos Gyranos looked up as the door to the War Room opened, expecting an aide to be returning with some requested documents on inventories in Adrianople. The new arrival was not that.
It was Irene. Beside her was Plytos’s wife Xenia, and right behind the two women was the Strategos of the Athanatoi himself. Andronikos willed himself to keep his face blank, and his eyes met with those of Plytos. “I have important business with the Primmikerios,” Plytos said loudly. “Vacate and secure the room.” All of the various War Room personnel set down what they were doing and filed out of the chamber. As Plytos locked the door from the inside, Gyranos knew they were putting up a sign indicating the War Room was conducting secret business and could not be entered until the inside occupants were finished.
Xenia took Irene’s arm and the two of them went into the furthest corner, Gyranos avoiding eye contact with his wife; he wasn’t sure if he could keep a straight face otherwise. Plytos headed over to him, a folder tucked under one arm. “Going to Russia with winter approaching is certainly an odd choice,” Plytos observed.
“Yeah, Irene’s weird that way.”
A pause. “Andronikos, we’re both intelligent men who know what’s going on, and have better things to spend our time on. I say we talk straight and get this unpleasantness over with.”
“That would be more efficient.”
“And I know you like that. Regarding Thrakesia, that’s entirely on me. I never should’ve put you in that position; anyone with such limited field experience would’ve acted similarly. After this is over, we should work on better training for officers as they command bigger units in the field.”
“Agreed,” Gyranos replied, keeping his tone flat.
“As for more recent matters, it’s good that the letters of credit in Irene’s purse were for cashing in Kiev, not Thessaloniki. Then we’d really have a problem.”
“Thessaloniki was not an option.”
“Of course not, but not because of your great loyalty to the cause. It’s because you want to keep Irene safe but don’t trust Sophia, especially after the assassination attempt and her reaction.”
Gyranos nodded.
“She would be safer in Constantinople though,” Plytos continued.
“Having her in Constantinople would be a good way to keep me behaving in a manner you find politically favorable. That doesn’t fit the definition of safe.”
“No, it doesn’t. But Tzaousios Makres has agents in Russia. They could easily arrange an unpleasantness. But here in Constantinople, with Athanatoi guards…”
“You mean Athanatoi minders.”
“Yes. They’d be both. But I will keep Irene safe, if you help me win this war.”
“Nereas is insane. He’s a loose cannon, at best.”
“I know. But Makres and Nereas both know that if they so much as stub the toe of one of my men, I will end them.”
“He’s still a problem.”
“I agree. But he’s too popular with too many of the soldiery to be discarded, now. But help me win this war, and then he will no longer be necessary. A nice public execution for excesses would be a good gesture of reconciliation at the end of a civil war.”
“That is tempting, but I can’t help but notice that I have to deliver my end of the bargain now, while what I desire is put off till later. This pattern has become rather tiresome, and makes me wary of further bargains.”
“I thought you would say that, which is why I arranged this.” He pulled out the file he’d been holding and handed it to Gyranos. “Take a look.”
Gyranos opened it up and started skimming. It was a decree of several reform measures in the three kephalates of northwest Bithynia opposite Constantinople. There were details for land redistribution for landless peasants, plans for wasteland reclamation and swamp drainage for more small-scale plots, and even a credit system to provide small low-interest loans for smallholders to finance local improvements. And that the bottom in purple ink was Herakleios III’s signature and the Imperial seal. It was official law of the Empire. Not just a proposal.
“Do you think he actually read this?” Gyranos mused.
Plytos smiled. “His eyes glazed over after the third sentence. But he signed it. That’s what matters.”
“This is good,” Gyranos said. It wasn’t all of the reforms he wanted, but it was a serious effort in that direction, for once. “But it is localized.”
“I know. The detailed report was only available for these regions at this time. But more will be possible, in the future.”
“But first we have to win this war.”
“Yes.”
Gyranos looked at Plytos, and then his eyes darted over to his wife, talking quietly with Xenia. He was skeptical that Plytos would actually turn on Nereas after the war, and whether there would be further reforms. But it wasn’t like he was in a position to be choosy. If Irene was stuck in Constantinople, the best way to keep her safe was to ensure that this side won the war. Winners in civil wars tended to have more longevity than the other side. And he did trust Plytos that if he kept up his end of the bargain faithfully, Plytos would keep Irene safe. “Very well.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” Plytos replied. He looked over at his wife. “Xenia, it’s time for us to go.” She nodded.
“Please keep the room secure after you leave,” Gyranos said.
“Of course.”
After they’d left, he walked over to Irene. “I could try again,” she said.
Gyranos shook his head. “Far too risky. We’re being too closely watched now. I’ve made this bed for us, and now we have to lie in it to get through the night.”
“Still, there are plenty of Russian ships. If I-”
“No. I’m not risking your life.”
“I should have a say in that too. And there may come a time when we’ll have no choice but to risk it.”
“You’re right. But we’re not there, and I won’t cross that bridge unless we absolutely have to.”