Part XIII
The Roman Emperor Who Lost His Nose
A timeline of Justinian II - The Magnificent Rhinotmetos
Part XIII: The Desolation of Carthage
"That seemingly benighted place, an arena of conflict often ruined by such, which drew so many armies in over the ages, and was to see yet another episode of war in its history at this point in time.", Siraj ibn al-Hakam, Arab Historian*
710 - Late Summer Sunrise began to appear as a few weary lookouts at the small outposts built near the remains of Carthage looked forward to a change of shift. Most of them were bored, another round of watching out for threats which never seemed to come. The ruined city's guard had recently received a few reinforcements and there was word that more were supposedly to come in due course. Rumour had it there might be some issue with the Romans going on but the authorities in Tunis did not seem too concerned. Their spies and patrols should give good warning after all.
(Historical note: Carthage was devastated by the Arabs after they retook it in 698, the walls were demolished, the docks ruined and the water supplies mainly cut, leaving just a very small population behind with most of what had remained of the previous citizenry forcefully or otherwise moved to nearby Tunis which was further inland, and had, what was hoped, a more defensible position. The Arabs were fearful of the Romans taking Carthage again so they just decided to remove the issue, and hoped to put them off going near it. It was however, still possibly a useful place to land and thus lookout posts where stationed there, just in case.)
Except that half of the small naval patrol had already been easily sunk in a surprise early dawn battle without managing to warn them of the massive Roman Fleet even now advancing through the sunrise to make landfall at places nearby at what remained of the great city. The other two ships of the four had been captured and were now manned by Christian Arabs transferred from other ships with a plan in store for using them later. These were joined by a few other Arab ships captured in earlier encounters before this expedition and had been part of the Roman Navy for a while.
Some survivors had also been fished out of the sea by the Roman force, and whilst some of the Caliph's men refused to talk, others were only too keen in return for rescue to spill more useful information which could serve to aid the Romans. Of course, not all of it would be reliable as men will say anything to save their skins, or indeed may even be paid agents to misdirect their opponents. There were precious few of the latter in such a small fleet, however, and the possibility of any being amongst the survivors was remote. It was nevertheless a possibility to be aware of. However, two could play at that scheming game.
False instructions distributed by Leo the
Prōtospatharios amongst known Caliphate spies had indicated a naval build-up in Sicily was aimed at Septum and the large host of ships at Constantinople, which were impossible not to be observed by enemy spies, were to be heading there too. Not completely untrue. Except that one Roman fleet had already reached that part of the world and another was about to arrive. The only untrue part was about the Constantinople fleet. This had all of course fit in with the false intelligence, and masked this fleet intended to assault North Africa and had misdirected Umayyad spies just as Leo had intended. As a most welcome bonus, it had even caught up some
unknown Umayyad spies in its deception as well. Of course, this wasn't known by the very nature of it being unknowable. All the same, Leo would have been even more satisfied, although one would suspect, being the character he was, he would doubtless be aware of the possibility that unknown agents would also be duped by such false leads.
Thus it was as arms stretched to relieve tired muscles and mouths yawned, far away on the horizon the first masts and sails appeared, yet a fair distance down the coast, so as not to be easily spotted by any lookouts. The fleet had split into a number of elements, one for shore bombardment if necessary and then naval landing to take the area and establish a beachhead just as the second part disembarked some troops further away and then marched in to cut off any retreating elements which could warn Tunis. Another large segment of the other part of the fleet would then deal with any ships in the way and land more troops further down the coast ready to assault Tunis, which was the first main inhabited target of this expedition. Another division held off to seaward in case any further Caliphate vessels appeared. The rest would remain in place in case an evacuation of the force making the cut-off was required. At least, that was the plan, a land surprise from different directions, splitting the efforts of the garrison inside the city. Unfortunately for the Romans, a direct seaborne assault on it was hard because of the narrow natural entrance to the harbour and the large lake standing in the way of the city located upon a hill there. However, this entrance did offer one advantage: it would mean opposing ships could be bottled up in the lake and not interfere with the sea landings going on outside on the coasts.
Stratēgos tōn karabōn Apsimarus knew the place well from previous encounters here and had come up with areas and routes of attacks being most favourable to the Romans. And just in case, as he still had a few associates who had formerly been in Carthage and were now in Tunis as a consequence of much of the population being transferred to that city nearby which would be the next target for his particular force following this, a few extra plans were afoot to ruffle matters somewhat perhaps if luck was with them. These may not be much in the overall scheme of things but at least they would cause further distraction. In addition, Leo had been up to his usual insidious skulduggery utilising available assets he had in the area, including a few merchant ships serving as spy vessels and relaying reports when possible. One could be sure the former shepherd not only excelled in his position, he greatly enjoyed the work it gave him too.
(Historical note: Of course in OTL Leo -originally known as Konon and was said to speak Arabic as well as Greek due to his Syrian origins- would become Emperor Leo III after the short reigns of Bardanes, Anastasius II and Theodosius III. He was something of an opportunist, but note he waited until FOUR Emperors had fallen before he decided he would make his own move. And then of course creatively re-interpreted the history of the last few reigns in a more, shall we say, negative light. One has to embellish one's own reign after all. As for if he would have done this if Justinian had not fallen in our history? Perhaps, perhaps not. Maybe he was loyal as long as there was a competent Emperor on the throne. Still, remember this is the fellow who went UP to meet an invading army, offering his services and his sheep which led him to where he is now. One suspects if he enjoys his job, is given ample outlets for his scheming and opportunistic nature to indulge in and he is treated fairly, he would probably remain loyal. A most useful asset indeed then.)
But first of all, it was the employment of the captured Caliphate ships which would be of use in something of a ruse.
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Far across the Empire the rather frustrated form of Theophilos could be seen once more peering from his privy window. The annoying guard was, again, sitting in his chair. The Emperor's Emissary was quite sure the commander of this reprobate would ordinarily not be happy with him sunning himself so frequently, yet on the other hand, if he knew of the obstacle he presented towards Theophilos' own plans, he would not care a jot. Might even reward the damn fellow!
Then he paused and squinted a bit to take a more thorough look and noticed the chair had changed to one of the far more plush ones from one of his own rooms and the insufferable miscreant was lounging about in even more comfort!
The damn cheek, he fumed to himself.
Just as these tumultuous thoughts were bouncing about most unhappily inside his head, the guard decided to up and leave. Possibly for a call of nature. The
Prōtospatharios perked up somewhat, but then his mulling commenced once more as he wondered just how long it would be and
if Philippicus would appear before the tiresome irritation in human form returned.
He did not need to worry too much on this point however, as it turned out Philippicus had also been awaiting an opportunity for the guard to depart. With a degree more patience than Theophilos it might be said too. After all, he didn't need to balance himself precariously over a privy and squeeze his head through a niche which served as a window all the while being careful not to be spotted doing so.
Phillipicus, after carefully looking about to make sure not only the guard had disappeared, but anyone else was not happening to be passing by, carefully stepped into the small courtyard, keeping himself in the shadows cast by the sun upon the surrounding structures just as an extra precaution. In a spot where Theophilos would be able to notice his presence, he looked upwards to observe the eager gaze and face of the Emissary falling upon him and a big smile appearing upon it. Thereupon did he drop another missive down onto the paved area below the window as well as a pouch, which by the clatter it made obviously contained coins. Philippicus quickly scurried over to pick it up and then retreated back to his previous dark position where he opened and read it as rapidly as he could.
The message was fairly short and simple.
"We need to create a distraction. At this time of day there are only two guards outside my door. Grab a few of those huge disgruntled ruffians from the docks you are most acquainted with who are not happy with the current situation and pay them well. Bring them back, deal with any guards on the ground level and set a small fire to somehow produce a lot of smoke in one of the lower chambers near the main stairwell. Lie in ambush for other guards, beat them up, find the key to my door, or grab a weapon to smash it, then pray to God I can get out in the confusion.".
It was a drastic plan.
To his credit Philippicus did not pause, he looked up and nodded his assent. There was no need to use the slingshot he discreetly carried to accurately shoot up a written message through the window in return this time. Then disappeared, presumably to gather some of the aforementioned heavy bruisers.
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Stratēgos Alexander's ships were in sight of land, and Nicholas' remaining fleet of vessels. The
dromons Nicholas had sent out to locate and inform his fellow admiral of affairs had mercifully not run into any kind of trouble either from the elements or any wayward Arab naval leftovers. Thus they were appraised of the situation and where Nicholas had safely anchored, and his ships drew close and prepared to disembark their large host of troops now covered by a substantial number of Roman warships.
From this point on the general who had accompanied them, a certain individual named Markus*, took over the work of organising the soldiers properly for their advance onto Septum. The warships would round the coast and then use the Fire and other weapons from the decks to assault the seaward side of the outpost. However, as it was possible there were a significant degree of people in Septum who perhaps did not wish to be under Umayyad rule, it was agreed use of such assets would be sparing and directed against only hostile elements where possible, thus allowing any local resistance to flourish and take advantage of the situation. Whilst this was happening, it was hoped the land assault would divide the forces within the enclave. Although the walls were stout, the garrison was not thought to be overly large and a drawn out siege could hopefully be avoided if enough rose up inside adding to their woes.
Nicholas was still wary about the possible reappearance of any Caliphate vessels and had made sure to send out a few scouts to keep an eye on the vicinity. He was also sniffing the air and frequently looking at the sky and monitoring the wind. One could hardly blame him, after all, he had run right into an Arab invasion force and fought off a storm as well. It was, he considered, rather much to have to deal with such a tussle involving not just the Miscalled Commander of the Faithful's forces, but the wrath of nature and whatever the disgruntled pagan gods had seen fit to do as well. However, looking around his heart swelled with pride as he saw his men applying themselves worthily to their tasks even as he mourned the losses he had suffered. God had not abandoned them and there was still much work to do.
After a while, Alexander arrived on Nicholas' flagship bearing a good wine. Together the two old salts repaired to a space on the stern commanding a good panoramic view of matters and shared a sensible amount of drink, given they wished to stay alert in case of any developments. Luckily, for now, they were left uninterrupted and thus could share some old yarns with each other. For Nicholas it was a welcome respite from the thoughts of his lost ships and men. At least for a time. He, however, resolved to make the enemy pay a further bill for that later, a sentiment Alexander was most eager to partake in.
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The Imperial Fleet under the Emperor spied Carthage as it rounded the coast. Already another part of the navy which had spilt off had disembarked soldiers and equipment under the command of Heraclius who knew the area reasonably well and these were even now making their progress in as rapid a fashion as they could manage to head just beyond Tunis in order to curtail any escapes. It appeared Justinian's part of the fleet would arrive after those soldiers were in suitable enough positions and then themselves assault the remains of the garrison in Carthage, however.
Upon the deck of his flagship, Justinian was engaged in conversation with Myakes.
"So it begins.", he observed as they rode closer to Carthage. They had been spotted and horns and bells were sounding as the outpost's garrison became aware and readied themselves for their arrival.
Myakes, leaning against the deck rail characteristically had his own thoughts on the matter. "This whole venture is going to cost us a pretty penny or two, besides the lives of our men.".
The Emperor had been watching Aspimarus, who for his part appeared to be staring intently at the distant city, then turned and looked towards him. "Ah yes, in the event of open war our lucrative treaties with the Caliphate will no longer be honoured. Admittedly that is an issue which is unwelcome, however, we must live with it for now. And as things are wont to go, a new settlement will no doubt be reached once this is all over. That is the way these events pan out. Either to our detriment or advantage.". He paused for a moment before continuing. "Not much earthly consolation for those who will lose their lives perhaps, but any of us will go to God knowing we have done His Will.".
For his part, Myakes nodded in sanguine agreement. "True enough Emperor. Still, we have 'em on the hop from what I can see. God willing we'll give 'em a good walloping before we meet our Lord, and that day should still be far off. Well, it's not as if I don't want to enjoy the delights of Heaven you understand, but it would be satisfying to witness a victory here.".
Justinian allowed himself a small chuckle. "You never change, Myakes. Good on you. So, as you say, let us wallop them, eh?".
He turned to Apsimarus who was waiting for his orders and no doubt ready for some payback and so close now to having another go at taking this place after events in the past had forced him to turn away from here. This was after being part of the expedition which had retaken it briefly from the Arabs, but had then been forced back to Crete once a Heathen counter-attack had again expelled them. For a moment, the Emperor considered what sort of thoughts must be going through his mind, as it was on that day where he had been proclaimed
Augustus by the forces who feared Leontius' wrath for their failure, after they had killed their own commander of the force, John the Patrician. Apsimarus had been chosen by the men, so he may not have had much choice. It is not as if you can easily say "No" to those who have just murdered your superior. Or maybe he had been a willing part of the plan. Justinian mused whether to ask him about that one day, but for now there was work to do.
Apsimarus straightened his back with a large degree of expectation, obviously eager to begin.
"Launch the attack.". Justinian said simply.
"With great pleasure indeed Emperor.", he replied, a large but somewhat grim smile on his face as he turned to his lieutenants and the Emperor's command spread out across the fleet.
The vessels closed in upon their target and rearranged themselves into coastal assault formation.
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Theophilos paced in his quarters up on the third level of the building, his mind full of all sorts of nervous musings. The risk he was taking with a fire! He did not fancy being roasted alive if possible. Though, as a distraction, it was certainly one few could afford to neglect. And he had to get out of this place and somehow organise some resistance away from the grip of Julian's guards and officials. Of course, he now realised he probably had Arab as well as Visigoth soldiers to deal with as well. This multiplication of issues did not assuage his pacing or concerns one bit. He continued his back and forth such that he imagined he was wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing.
Perhaps if left to continue doing this for a few years I may actually manage it, he thought dourly to himself.
He wondered how Philippicus was progressing. Hopefully with a good measure of success, and of course, speed.
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Patriarch Cyrus pored over the plans for further improvements regarding the infrastructure to the Queen of Cities as well as plans for other projects deeper in various other areas of the Empire. Beside him Theophylactus looked through a list of expenditures and budgets.
"Well, it seems we will have no trouble affording this as matters stand. It really depends how long our wars last. I have taken the liberty of taking into consideration the loss of revenue the cessation of treaties with the Deniers of Christ could have, and given the income we have from other sources, such as taxation from resettlements, improved trade with other peoples and states and the income gleaned from those who have been caught involved in plots as well as other sundry sources, we are in a reasonable position for some period to come. The Treasury can maintain our offensives for a decent period, but at some point we are going to have to consider our financial position should they stretch on. Of course, the Emperor asked me to add extra time on top of that in case conflict stretches out further, a prudent piece of foresight, so there is some leeway, yet nevertheless he did tell us to let him know when matters would not allow such expenditure.", the
Megas Logothetes observed matter-of-factly as he perused the figures and reports.
Cyrus' fingers twisted the hairs of his beard in thought. "It does seem well planned, and it is most satisfying our plans for improvements in this city and elsewhere in the Empire can move forward for the benefit of most, however of concern is the report from Leo about possible movements by our opponents to the east.".
"Mmm, yes, I had heard something about that. Leo sent a messenger with some details a few days ago and another is on his way with more information according to that one. The missive also noted he'd join us here as soon as possible to further inform us in greater intimacy the nature of what his sources have observed. I must say he does keep very much on the ball in such matters, so we can expect to at least be able to engage in some contingency planning there. Still, not everything will be clear, even to him. The Miscalled Commander of the Faithful is an intelligent and cunning ruler by all accounts, so he is not to be underestimated.". Theothylactus had seen some Emperors come and go by now, as well as a few Caliphs, but he had to admit this one was quite impressive in his abilities. He hoped Justinian and his Court would be able to match his obvious guile and cleverness.
"Aye, he is no slouch at all. I have a feeling under other circumstances we could get on rather well with him. I have heard he is a person of culture and refinement and one who only pursues warfare when necessary. Our dealings with him thus far have been reasonable, however this whole situation in Septum is most worrying. Even if his generals have gone, shall we say, rather beyond their remit, he can't be displeased with acquiring that place, given his missive to our Emperor offered all sorts in order to maintain it. He is at least trying to avoid full and open war, but I am certain he will not shirk from hostilities if he deems it as necessary or unavoidable. He has made many reforms and has capable men serving him.".
A short silence then as they both absorbed the import of each other's words.
"Well then,", Cyrus continued, "I think the ideas for the new marketplace in this area and the grain stores here are well thought out, but there needs to be more consideration put into better access.".
"Indeed, quite so.".
Despite the strong possibility of full scale war there was still much to occupy various people, so they got on with it.
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A figure peeked around a corner, double checked the coast was clear, then beckoned those behind him to follow. One by one a band of motley individuals revealed themselves as the gang gathered by Philippicus made their way to the building where Theophilos was being held.
First of all, of course, Philippicus, his tanned skin due to exposure to the sun and mop of light coloured hair marking out his Roman heritage, carrying a bag on his back and with a pouch of stones for his slingshot attached to his belt. Next up was a large fellow with reddish tanned skin, brown hair, short cropped and with an angry red scar from temple to chin carrying a hefty chain in his hands and a sword strapped to his belt. He was moving with the air of a man who had military experience, rather a lot of it in fact. Next up was a bare-chested man with reddish hair and a straggly beard carrying a fierce looking boathook and with an oar on his back. He was rather well-built himself. The next individual had ebony skin and was quite well dressed compared to the others, with a neat moustache and he fielded a rather expensive looking dirk, which from his gait he was obviously well versed in wielding. In his other hand were what looked like throwing knives. He was also burly in size, almost as much as the next individual who wore the clothes of an Arab and carried a
Mukhatham curved sword sheathed in its baldric and had a quiver full of arrows on his back accompanied by a bow with an arrow ready in his hands. But it was the final figure which dominated the group. A massive hulking monster of a man sporting a huge black beard streaked with some grey which looked as if something could nest in it, seemingly almost as wide as he was tall, wearing thick coarse light coloured clothes looking like they had been cobbled together from ship cargo sacks. This alarming visage was topped off with a gigantic and very evil looking long wooden shaft sporting a steel hammer on one side, an axe head on the other with a steel prong at the top of the whole thing gripped in one giant hand, and a huge bag holding goodness-knows-what slung over his shoulder with the other.
If Theophilos had hoped for "huge disgruntled ruffians", he was not about to be disappointed.
Upon approaching the main gate of the residence, they stopped. A guard stood either side of the gate, engaged in some casual conversation. Philippicus looked back at his group, and the man with the dirk nodded and moved stealthily forward with him to some cover not far from the guards, and within easy range of their throwing weapons. In a flash, just slightly one after the other, they each threw a weapon, one a knife, another a stone with the knife landing perfectly in the throat of one guard and the stone squarely on the head of the other. They collapsed with nothing more than a gurgle and a bit of a clatter. With haste, the dangerous looking collection of men crossed over and then dragged the bodies inside the courtyard, watching out for any others who may be around. Of course, whilst doing this the unfortunate guards' bodies were rifled for valuables by this disreputable looking crew.
Having performed this necessary task, the gang slipped their way around the building towards the servants' door at the back of Theophilos' mansion. Another guard was lazily sitting on a low wall. The Arab rapidly aimed his bow and shot him through the throat before he could react as he fell down with a bit less noise than the previous two. The coast to the more minor entrance now being apparently clear, they carefully sneaked inside, after robbing the recently deceased guard on their way as one would expect. Upon peering around the bend in the corridor they observed three more of them relaxing in the pantry, two sitting in chairs with their backs to them, and one in front of the others stood up talking with them across the table. He looked like an officer of some kind. All were helping themselves to the Emissary's wine.
Thus the crew of assassins had little choice but to bide their time and wait a while. There were no other servants present, so Philippicus hoped any scuffle would be undisturbed by innocent parties.
It wasn't long before the officer started making towards the doorway where Philippicus' hired muscle were crouched in the darkness. However, just as he passed behind the other two guards, he spoke "And just one more thing -".
It was the last thing he was ever able to say apart from a quiet "Urggh!", as it was all the chance needed for Dirk to speed forward and slit his throat with his deadly blade, Redhair to rush over and stick his boathook into the throat of one of the sitting guards and Scar to creep up behind the other one and raise his chain. In moments it was all over as the chain wrapped itself around the neck of that guard choking him into unconsciousness. It seemed not only an efficient proficiency in murder was offered, but strangling and an excellence in cutthroatery had been added to the list of feats Philippicus' men were available to perform.
"Right, now set a fire adjacent to the stairs. It doesn't need to be large, but needs plenty of smoke. Here -,", Philippicus unslung his bag and threw it towards Redhair, "use this damp straw. Should get a good amount of it going.".
Redhair and the gang were busy unburdening the bodies of the guards for their valuables, but made fast work of it, then they headed to the stairwell and set a small fire. After a while smoke wafted up the stairs carried by the flow of air up them.
"Heh, that should flush 'em out. You said two outside his door? Might be others about, so hopefully this'll entice 'em all to have look and then I'll whack 'em good.", grinned Giantbeard hefting his monstrously large hammer with a look of insane delight whilst dropping the huge bag he was carrying on the floor. "Might need what's inside there soon!".
"We didn't find any keys on these two. Keep looking, check over there.", whispered the Arab gesturing to some storage cupboards., as he moved towards a set of drawers. "I'll look in these.".
Sure enough, shouting was soon heard from above.
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The guards had been having a peaceful and relaxing time outside the door of the prisoner they had been assigned to. It was a plum job they thought, easy and with reasonable pay. Everything was bliss until the ingress of smoke appeared from the stairwell.
"What the hell? A fire?! Check it out, Beremud! I'll stay here and guard the door!", exclaimed one of the guards, as the other cautiously crept down the stairs.
Ahead of him three other guards on the next floor down also emerged from a room and moved to investigate. They didn't quite show as much hesitancy, and this proved to be their undoing as they rounded the curve at the bottom and were promptly confronted by what they thought was quite possibly the largest man they had ever seen who then rapidly sent one flying across the corridor to slam against the wall, his chest caved in by the gigantic hammer he wielded. Almost immediately on the reverse swing the weapon's axe side smashed through the balustrade of the stairs without stopping and slammed another guard headfirst into the wall on the other side. The third guard just about had enough time to register his comrades were heading for God's Mercy when he also joined them as the monster arced the hammer down on his head with such force it sent his body crashing
through the wooden stairs.
"Heh, rather enjoyed that!", leered the frightening aspect that was Giantbeard.
"We can't find the keys.", called Scar. There seemed no point in being quiet now that his huge comrade's smashing of people and things had caused enough noise to shake the street.
"Bah, who the hell need keys? I'm off up there!", and with that the massive figure of the giant shot up the stairs with surprising speed for a man of his bulk. "By the way, the room your friend is in on the third level?", he hurled back down to Philippicus as he departed.
"The one with the guards outside!", he yelled back.
"Hah, funny. I'll get cracking.", came the reply with a deep laugh.
Dirk, who had been fastidiously cleaning the blade of his weapon appeared to be looking a trifle disapproving as he surveyed the scene.
"I do apologise for the most unfortunate level of damage to this nice mansion, and I hope your friend will not be too upset by the amount of property destruction which has occurred thus far and more of which is likely to occur.", offered Dirk in what seemed a genuinely regretful manner.
Philippicus just rolled his eyes and rushed to get a pail of water to douse the fire before it got out of control.
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The
siphonophoroi on various selected vessels shot the Fire at a couple of remaining military ships they found passing by what was left of Carthage's harbour causing all sorts of conflagrations and mayhem. Rains of arrows shot from archers on the decks aimed for anyone armed they could spot. Ballistae swivelled into position and launched their bolts against the outposts. Catapults hurled fiery balls at their structure and small formations of men on the ground, attempting to hunker under walls and buildings intact enough it could shelter them as well as from the large stones thrown directly against them. The din of horns, bells and shouting continued to sound across the scene as the devastated city's defenders were roused and called into their positions.
The outpost had been caught napping. Without any warning from their naval scouts who they previously had no idea had been sunk or captured, the first elements of the fleet bearing down on them had initially been thought to be a patrol returning by a sleepy lookout.
These had been the Arab ships of the Roman contingent. And once their disguise had arrived close enough, they had unveiled catapults and ballistae on their decks and opened fire without warning, taking the defenders by surprise.
The mistake has been realised and the alert sounded. The commander of the local garrison strapped on his armour and weapons and raced up to one of the better built outpost towers. He lost no time in ordering any available local forces raised and into action and the ballistae and catapults he had available loaded to repel the seaborne assault, whilst ordering archers to commence firing back at whatever they could hit. He also sent orders for messengers to be sent to Tunis.
Then another segment of the Roman fleet had arrived, this one for shore attack. Another much larger element had headed off to a point of the coast nearby where it would be better possible to disembark troops out of range and less observed by the ruined city's defences. Despite the attempt to destroy the harbour years back, there were still a couple of quays kept usable, perhaps the local outpost commander had seen it as useful for landing supplies now and then and had made efforts to restore something of use, but nowhere near enough adequate to land a full army.
Apsimarus concentrated hard. It was critical to maintain formation in such an encounter. Any sudden wind change could spell disaster especially when the Fire was being used. He could see the crews sheltering behind the heavy metal shields the siphons were protected by. Most of the vessels embarking these had them at the prow, but some also mounted a pair amidships on either side. At the moment, all the Fire vessels were pointing with their bows towards the shoreline rather than broadside, so as to present smaller targets of themselves. This meant the amidships siphons could not be used. However, archers also fired from their decks at any figure they could see within range. Not far from the wrecked harbour it was a sea of fire as the aforementioned couple of military ships there caught up in it all lay in a sea of flames.
The other ships a bit further out were loosing off their ballistae and catapults in a broadside fashion. For the catapults, the stone was to batter the outposts and any gates. The fireballs were hurled over to create chaos on the other side of the buildings crumbled walls, and containers full of lime were also lobbed over in an effort to choke the enemy and further degrade their effectiveness. On occasion a container of Fire was loosed as well to land on the defensive areas or positions where it would spread adding to the bedlam and confusion of troops in those areas. Spear bolts and javelins were launched by the ballistae. Caltrops were also hurled from the catapults, in order to impede the advance of troops or horses in the event they decided they were sallying forth.
On the decks awaited heavily armoured soldiers with lances and swords. The upper bank oarsmen were similarly equipped whilst the lower bank remained in place, maintaining the positions of the ships. The archers were clad in
neurika (padded felt) jackets but not all were in range and stood idly by whilst ships which were closer were able to have their archers let fly with arrows against the various targets they found.
On various ships there were regiments of the
Scholae and
Excubitores which had brought along for this expedition. Various bodies of them has already landed at other positions and were making their way to surround Tunis. Myakes was concerned about the
Scholae. Long having been just a ceremonial unit rather than possessing much in the way of fighting ability, this force had only recently been reformed to have some proper military training and teeth by Justinian, and he wasn't sure if the training had been enough until now to turn them into a truly élite body.
The Emperor noticed his furrowed brow. "Thinking about the
Scholae again?".
"Aye, Emperor, I just hope they can deliver the goods. I think they'll manage to fight well enough, but we might not wish to expect too much of them this time.".
"Understandable Myakes, the time since my reforms has been short and you may be right. But they should at the very least perform as regular units even if we cannot have the best we would like. It seems, like most matters, we need more time. Unfortunately the Miscalled Commander of the Faithful's moves have forced us to bring up our plans. In such a situation, we need to make do with what we have for now. I am sure they will do their best, that is what matters, and all we can ask of them.".
Justinian gazed out at the ruined city, once a large and prosperous place. It was in this state due the Arabs who had wrecked it. Of course, Leontius had a part in this chain of events which had seen the sorry result he was currently observing. This place had special significance for his dynasty, for had not the great Heraclius came from here to deal with the tyrant Phocas a century ago? It pained his heart to see the miserable state this once wonderful metropolis had become. It added a personal aspect to the situation as well.
Justinian resolved to not only restore and build the city bigger and better, but to subjugate and take over Tunis as well. Then he would have two useful cities from which to extend the Empire's presence and grip in this region and hopefully, with God's help, he could restore Roman fortunes here as well as set up a fair tax system in order to help pay for the region's defence, infrastructure and well-being of its citizens once more. He had some ideas about that too, which included making attractive offers to the Islamic inhabitants which were better than the ones the Caliph had put in place for Christians. It went without saying good, loyal Christian subjects would have nothing to worry about. To avoid the costs of prolonged rebellion and trouble, giving some concession to the local Muslim population could help. One-upmanship with a dose of tolerance could have a potentially successful chance to play here. He was not intending to wreck Tunis, that would just be folly in terms of getting rid of people to tax and having a thriving city. However, he did determine to rebuild Carthage bigger and better than before and perhaps in time the two settlements would merge with each other should their sizes became such as to allow that. Not only as restitution for all that had been lost, but to show the Miscalled Commander of the Faithful the Romans were back, intending to stay AND taking and utilising what the Deniers of Christ had built up as well.
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By this time the lookouts up in Tunis had noticed matters were afoot, and troops were pouring out of the city heading for the coast in order to forestall the expected landings.
In the terrain to the Southeast and Southwest, previously landed Roman armies advanced upon the city. The garrison commander might have reconsidered sending out quite so many soldiers if he had realised his city was about to come under a massive siege. Still, the task for the Romans yet remained a formidable one, for the site chosen for the metropolis was a good defensive position.
The commander was also concerned about the lack of warships he had. For some reason many had been recalled, presumably for some larger mission. He was not entirely alone in this, as the Romans present although having noticed there were fewer warships about than expected, did not at this point in time realise why. Of course, this was useful for them and not the Caliphate, yet in time they would realise although the Caliph was not aware of the planned assault on North Africa, he had been making his own plans for which he required naval assets, and thus an assemblage of his own fleet by gathering vessels from various parts of his domain were part of those plans.
In the meantime, scant attention had been paid to an Arab merchantman which had recently docked very early in Tunis' harbour amidst the array of shipping there. As a couple of customs officials accompanied by some armed men prepared to inspect it they wondered why the ship seemed so quiet and what the crew were doing.
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Determined fingers jabbed various points on a map.
"Indeed. Here, here, and here have sufficient soldiery deployed for our purposes. And that is where the fleet will approach. Our spies report there are fewer Roman ships about in this area it would seem for they are gathering in Sicily to assault Septum and perhaps reinforce their efforts in Iberia.".
Caliph Al-Walid reflected back upon the missive received from the Roman Master of Infidels refusing his terms. He had expected this would possibly be the case and so had been making arrangements should they become necessary. It wasn't entirely unfortunate the situation had developed as it had, in his opposite's shoes he admitted to himself he would probably be doing the same, but it did allow him to take some advantage. With the seizing of Septum and the conflict in Spain it was only a matter of time before a state of war would probably exist between the two realms anyway.
The elegantly dressed figure turned his attention back to his voluminous map and his military advisors.
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Somewhere in the Bosphorus, not far from Constantinople, a body splashed into the brine. A dark figure on the shadowy shoreline twisted his face into a smirk betraying a measure of satisfaction. It would be one less agent to worry about.
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*ATL historian brought into existence by butterflies.
*Markus, fictional character.
Right, there we go, we're back in business story-wise and so are our characters. This is also the longest part I've written so far by a significant margin. It's been a bit of a while but hopefully you'll all enjoy it.
Of course, it goes without saying comments are most welcome.
Sargon
