Οι Προετοιμασίες | Part II

 "Gentlemen, can we go back to the topic we had before we went into whatever that was? Why do you act like children?" Konstantinos suggested, finally speaking up. The rest sagged back, agreeing with that he said, especially Cyril. "Good, now where were we?"

 "Still waiting for Vatatzes," Isaac said.

 "That's a given," Cyril said.

 "I was asking why naphtha wasn't used, or even any other flammable substance similar to oil," Nikephoros reiterates.

 "Right, that…" Gabras put one of his fists on his cheek, resting on his other arm.. "I have no say on that."

 Isaac furrowed his brows. "You, my friend, are the nearest to all of us to have any access to Naphtha. In fact, your friends in Georgia may have them, or at least be near the source as we are."

 Konstantinos opened his mouth, yet he said nothing. Only a wisp of air went out before he closed his trap.

 "Definite no then," Nikephoros said. "Any other alternatives?"

 "Animal fat," Cyril added.

 "We tried that," Isaac said. "But it isn't as abundant as our olive oil. It burns up quite quickly, even without the prominent heat, but if we rely on it, we have to take all excess fat from every province."

 "Which in turn would seem suspicious… Why would anyone take only fat? And as you said, there are more olives than livestock." Nikephoros thought through it, scratching his patch of beard.

 Isaac said "That is why we are struggling to find solutions. It will cost us our olive oil supply, but that will be thoroughly met with an answer, I hope."

 An idea popped in from Nikephoros. It might work, but he had some doubts. "Where's the blueprint?" Gabras pointed straight at him, Nikephoros then realised that it was in front of him, on the table. "Never mind," Clearing his throat, he tapped the interior parts displayed. 

 "There is a gap made when we're pumping it out, which we could fill up with the same charcoal. The upper layer where it sits must have something similar to what the box has, open air to let the flame rise higher. The only problem is that we would be lessening the volume inside the weapon. We should also try to compromise with a separate, thinner lid that could still contain the oil without it leaking when it is pumped. 

 "We could also cover about half of it, the underside of the weapon having charcoal and thin pieces of wood to keep it warm, however it would need to have balance so that it wouldn't be unwieldy to the user." 

 "Perhaps, perhaps…" Shrugging, Konstantinos said to Nikephoros "The suggestions are not bad, but we have to see if there are more modifications we could make before we do such things."

 "And time," Isaac added. "We need more time to not only get those resources, but also do said modifications."

 "There is a silver lining to all this however," Cyril said.

 "And what is that?"

 "You already saw it, Nikephoros." His friend was confused at that. Rolling his eyes, Cyril said "Grenades. You saw the outcome, and how loud they were. Did you not see them when you were oh so graciously taxing me on my own hat?"

 "I did not see their potential fully, but I did hear how loud they were," the Komēs replied.

 "Even better!" Cyril laughed, much to the confusion of the rest. "The grenades could then be what we use instead, and compared to the Arabs, we could use it on land as well!"

 "Hold on, how did you get the result of fire if you have a problem in your cheirosiphōnes?" Nikephoros asked

 "Smaller volume, larger quantities and, of course, recently mixed with resin when we were starting this training." Cyril, hand on his hips, said after "We funnelled it quite quick, but of course, we have to think of other situations where it cools down, and how we can use it during that time. Even winter would be a hurdle, if you think about it."

 "I'm telling you, steam could work! Just heat the water and put them above another layer!" Isaac said.

 Cyril said "And I say that it's stupid, since it won't do anything but make the clay exterior hot!" 

 Gabras yelled out "JUST PUT THE FIRE IN THE DAMN OIL!"

 There was a shaking that they felt at the side. Their discussions were stopped momentarily, all going out to see the cause.

 Lo and behold, it was a carriage. Packed mules that pulled hundreds of packaged foodstuffs and materials mainly of clay, resin and olive oil. Beside the mules and donkeys were pairs of horses, carrying men in wagons. In front of them all was a transport wagon, stopping near the camp.

 A man with a particularly long, unkempt beard came out. "VATATZES," Cyril yelled. "WE'RE OVER HERE!"

 Vatatzes, still recent from being out of his transport wagon, mumbled. "This has been the shittiest two days of travel I've ever experienced." 

 Vatatzes, who had left from Nicea to Xanthos, was not in the mood for anything. In fact, after nine days of moving and conversing with people without respite, excluding the times he had to take the supplies, he was ready to go home.

 Trying to look for a straight path down to where they were, there was a ladder that he climbed down on. Cyril rushed over to him while the rest went back to the tent. "Vatatzes, how are you, my friend?" the Doux said, laughing all the while.

 "Tired."

 "Would you care if you told me about it?"

 "I'd really rather not," Vatatzes replied. "Running after two errands within the week made my mind stretched thin."

 "Even if he said no, he will do it anyway," Cyril laughed.

 "What's that supposed to mean?" Vatatzes questioned back.

 "Nothing, really." Truth be told, even if Cyril said it in his most sincere manner, there was a bit of teasing with that phrase. He doesn't care, he only loves to play with people's imagination based on their interpretations. He moves Vatatzes to the tent, reluctant as the other may be.

 "What have you brought for luncheon?" Cyril asked.

 "Squids, scallops, even octopi we got. Lobsters were typically the easiest to get, but this year didn't bring much. Shrimps though, they're quite a lot. But the majority of it is bread and greens, so don't be disappointed."

 "Why would I ever be disappointed?" Cyril said. "If it's better than the food the monks eat, I myself am joyous."

 "Rejoice, or cry, since it will be both at the same time." Vatatzes yanked the hand that crept up on his shoulder. "Next time you do this, would you please give it a later date? I only had one day to prepare."

 "I sent it out about a month ago. Perhaps the messenger I hired didn't give it on time."

 "Are you two going to stay there or are you going to come in? I'm getting impatient," Isaac tutted, arms crossed. "Unless, of course, we first eat then continue on with our meeting."

 Cyril said "Starving as I am, we must get on with it, especially when Vatatzes is here now."

 "Ioannes, would it be fine if you started to walk properly than look as if you're ready to fall to the ground?" Isaac said to Vatatzes, which made the other grumble. Cyril watched the legs of Vatatzes, perplexed by what Isaac meant.

 It was as if he was a newborn fawn, to say the least. "You haven't encountered anything unexpected, did you?" the Doux asked him.

 "Other than critters, no."

 "Then why are you limping?"

 Ioannes Vatatzes, exhausted and needing an ounce of sleep, gave him a blank stare. His arm was pointing at his wagon, which prompted the other to shut up. "Isaac, you who I call brother in arms, would you help a weakened man stand his ground?"

 "No," was Isaac's reply to Ioannes. He went inside the tent once more, leaving him and the Doux behind.

 "Come on, I'll help you," Cyril offered, which was rejected almost immediately.

 "I can walk on my own, I was hoping he would fall into my trap," Vatatzes said. He widened the space he took as he walked towards the tent.

 Cyril shrugged, whispering "If you say so," mainly to himself, passing Vatatzes in the process to open the flap of the tent. "Come on in," he said.

 Nikephoros came up to Cyril, saying "You have the papers, right? Gabras was nervous about them."

 Offended, Cyril took a glance at Nikephoros as he said "Why would I ever forget a legal document?" He huffed and said "On the bottom of the box I brought. It's there." Nikephoros gawked at him. He didn't even see anything below, must have missed it.

 The moment Ioannes went inside, prompting Cyril to close it shut as much as he could. "There isn't much to discuss, as it would only be introducing a proposition."

 "I thought we would finish this before we eat?" Ioannes said.

 "Next time, could you not put it inside a box like this?" Konstantinos said, raising the papers from its confinement. "Some parts of it feel oily as a result."

 "I will put it above the box next time, then," Cyril said

 "You could have just clasped it within your belt, o, Doux." Nikephoros said

 "Can we put the box away now?" Ioannes said.

 "Oh, Kyrie…" Vatatzes said, sighing. "Doux," he added, his eyes pinning, no, piercing Cyril directly. The Doux regained his composure, clearing his throat.

 "That document may look thick, but each page is just a copy for everyone." His hand directed to Nikephoros as he said "Although it may not be as official as it can be, we have a witness for this occasion." Now directing that hand to Konstantinos, he said "If you please, my friend, distribute them all to the rest?" 

 Reluctantly, he did so. It was one paper short however, with Cyril having nothing on his hand while the rest had one. "Nikephoros, give it back to me after." The Doux spared them all a glimpse. "The form was made posthaste, and I made it as concise as possible."

 The note had been written as such:

 "I, (Name) of (Location of rule/birthplace), upon the family of , under the light of Kyrie and upon the rays of His Son, agree to be among the few inside the Anatolian League. Upon the most dire of situations, I will join amongst my fellow brethren within the League to aid them. I am able to be free of my own will, however, I must inform my fellow members of my military plans, if ever there is one.

 It is my duty to keep this League within utmost secrecy. If I do so, the others have the right to call treason and blind me, or execute me, depending on the degree of my traitorous deeds. Those within the Anatolian League, including I, must always inform one another of outside threats, specifically the Turks and Crusading Armies within our borders.

 Finally, within the Anatolian League, I consent to give about an annual 1% of my income for the rebuilding project of either lost Roman territories or the result of the reconquest of lost Anatolian lands. To those who will vie for the throne, the rest must be voluntary if they wish to ally with one another, however, they cannot attack the fellow members within."

 At the end, there was a line for signatures. This felt more of treason than anything else, which is terrifying for them all. However, there is one other thing they thought of, especially Nikephoros.

 "Quite ironic, όχι?"

 Cyril grinned. "Ναι!" He put his hands on his hips and said "You may leave, I do not care, but if you do spread this to anyone else, I will be inclined to either deny or imprison you, understood?"

 "Are you insinuating that you are the leader of this "league" you yourself had made?" Ioannes asked.

 "Isn't it obvious?" Isaac said.

 "Everyone can do what I told you all," Cyril said. "That being said, this is what I'm hoping to discuss the moment this is settled."

 "So what you're asking for is—" Nikephoros said before being cut off by Cyril.

 "I have said that you have the chance to leave now. I care not if you do, you only have to never speak of it." Cyril then adds "The reason why I say that we will discuss this some other time is so that the rules are settled for all."

 Each pair of eyes darted around one another. "What do we get out of this?" said Konstantinos.

 "Our lands in Anatolia, and especially yours, Gabras, in Trebizond, have been connected, but not united. The league promises to not only fix abandoned or torn buildings, cities, or even supplies. Ulterior motives don't matter unless it is related to Anatolia or the throne." Cyril shrugged and said "Besides, it has been the project of the Komnenian Dynasty, wouldn't it be in the empire's best interest to retake Anatolia from Turks and finish the task?"

 Nikephoros sighed deeply. "Shouldn't it be the Basileus that decides that?"

 "If you wish for any more "neighbours" to take Roman lands on either side, why not?" Cyril huffed. "I'm mainly for Anatolian resurgence. We have the chance, Basileus Ioannes II Komnenos has done it alongside his father, Alexios I Komnenos. A coalition of powerful families within Roman Anatolia has a chance, for there will be no infighting, lest it is treason."

 Konstantinos slammed his paper down. "Fine. I will sign, but on one condition." Cyril's interest was piqued. "Raise that abysmal one percent. You think that'll do anything?!" The Doux laughed and agreed, Gabras' agreement creating a domino effect. Someone got the ink, starting the process.

 Vatatzes signed reluctantly, if that meant staying in his office lest there be war. Laskaris signed it no question, mostly because he was hungry, but there was no other man other than Cyril, who was delighted. Nikephoros knew the ashes will come soon within the long river of blood and gold.

  Finally, Cyril's plan begins.