Here Lies The Great of Greats

"No wonder the empire is in such a dire state... I never imagined that the very lifeblood of the capital had been poisoned to its core."

John's visit to the Golden Horn left him both puzzled and disheartened. The condition of the port directly controlled by the empire was alarmingly poor, beyond words.

"It's embarrassing," he thought, "when even the ports 'owned' by the Venetians and Genoese are more active than those still under our flag."

As the carriage passed through the foreign quarters along Makros Embolos, John could only rub his temples in frustration at the sight of the bustling harbors in the distance.

The foreign quarters, located in the Perama district, were home to merchant communities from Italy, including the Venetians and Genoese.

Due to the high concentration of merchants and their semi-independent status within the city, this district was colloquially known as the 'Merchant Republic of Constantinople,' despite being under the empire's sovereignty.

Naturally, harbors like Neorion and Prosphorion fell under their influence.

These harbors were among the most significant due to their strategic position and their connection via the Bosporus Strait to the Black Sea and Asia Minor.

Merchants often disembarked here before heading to the Mese, the city's main thoroughfare, for trade.

Although technically under imperial authority, these ports were effectively 'owned' by the foreign merchants.

Over time, the emperors lost control over these crucial assets. Efforts to reassert dominance were frequently met with scorn and threats from Venetian and Genoese representatives.

"It seems you've forgotten that it wasn't us who sought these ports; you begged us to come. Without us, your pathetic empire would have starved long ago."

Such taunts were common, even from the lowliest merchants from Venice or Genoa.

The kommerkiarios, the imperial officials once responsible for overseeing these vital ports, had seen their authority so diminished that the position was now regarded as a demotion for any ambitious public servant.

Ultimately, the empire's control over these ports had eroded to the point where the foreign merchants ignored the original leasing agreements and acted more like mafias, often causing disputes among themselves.

The city authorities were powerless to intervene; even attempts at enforcement would likely lead to their own humiliation. Eventually, they resigned themselves to letting these merchants sort out their own affairs.

The district also had another notorious name, 'Den of Thieves' or "Ántro ton Kleftón". Rumors spoke of an underground market known as the Mávri Agorá or 'Black Market.'

John had heard these rumors as a child but had never confirmed them, even during his frequent palace exits. As his carriage passed by, he remained unsure of the market's existence. The merchants ignored his royal carriage, indifferent to his presence.

Demetrius snorted with disdain. "These vile mongrels! Even within the emperor's domain, they disrespect his heir when he graces them with his presence."

John sighed, unsure whether to be impressed or amused by Demetrius's reaction. "Let them be, Demetrius... it's not worth it. After all, we're the ones who 'intruded' on their territory."

John dryly replied. Despite not liking excessive praise from the people as a co-emperor, he was irritated by the merchants' disregard. Their indifference suggested they saw the emperor as insignificant.

'While I expected the empire to be in a dire state, I never anticipated it would be this bad,' John thought, frustrated.

After disappointing visits to Theodosius Harbor and Sophia Harbor, the trio directed their carriage toward the Palace of Boukoleon, the site of the military academy where Gavriel Mavripoulos, the Megas Domestikos, resided.

The Academy of the Hikanatoi (Ἀκαδημία τῶν Ἡικανῶν) was a prestigious institution dedicated to training and housing the empire's military officers.

Unlike the Scholae Palatinae, which trained imperial guards, this academy was revered as the training ground for the empire's future leaders.

As they approached the imposing walls of the academy, John's heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

Today held two crucial objectives for John: assessing the state of the imperial harbors around the Golden Horn and evaluating the current state of the empire's military forces.

As the carriage entered the academy's modest gates, John was filled with emotion. The ambiance was far from grand, yet it possessed a rustic charm that evoked memories of the empire's former glory.

Though the cadets were few, they displayed commendable discipline and dedication, their heads held high with the hope of serving their homeland in its time of need.

The training grounds, though not neglected, showed signs of overuse and lack of maintenance. The academy was a far cry from its former opulence.

The worn walls and creaking training platforms reflected a disparity from its illustrious past. John reminisced about times long past, when Rome was a dominant force, not just a nation.

Ah, the legendary Roman legions—unmatched in battlefield prowess, feared by their enemies. They charged into battle like untamed beasts, their shields locked and pila ready.

Their image was immortalized in the minds of their adversaries, from Europe to Asia, Palestine, and Africa. Their march was unstoppable, their might invincible.

In the footsteps of their glorious ancestors, the Roman legions forged their path of conquest and steeped themselves with glory.

From its humble beginning as a Republic, all the way into its regal years as an Empire. The Legion had always been there, conquering, protecting and expanding.

The battles they fought were legendary, each victory etched into the pages of history and defeat were treated with no less scrutiny.

From the legions of Julius Caesar crossing the Rubicon to the relentless campaigns of Augustus, who was crowned Emperor after humbling Antony, Rome carved a path of conquest that inspired awe and fear throughout history. The name of Rome became synonymous with invincibility, and its disciplined men embodied martial prowess.

Even the formidable Macedonian phalanx found itself humbled before Rome's testudo and pilum. The victories at Pharsalus and Actium cemented Rome's reputation as masters of tactical warfare, while the Battle of Zama marked the defeat of Hannibal, solidifying Rome's supremacy in the Mediterranean.

Despite a disgraceful defeat at Cannae, the spirit of Rome endured. Their conquests were vast, reaching the farthest corners of the known world. Julius Caesar's conquest of Gaul and the campaigns in Britannia exemplified Rome's indomitable spirit and thirst for expansion.

Under Augustus, the Roman Empire reached its peak, stretching from Hispania to Egypt, from the forests of Germania to the deserts of Africa. The Pax Romana brought centuries of peace and prosperity, but over time, the empire's vast territory became too much to manage, and its flame began to fade.

The days of triumphant conquests gave way to the challenges of an overextended empire. Not even the brilliance of Constantine the Great or the military genius of Belisarius could halt the empire's decline. The legions that once struck fear into enemies now faced dwindling resources and internal strife.

Reforms could not prevent the inevitable. The Turks encroached on Roman lands, taking their legacy while the empire weakened from within. How the tables had turned. Was it a punishment from God or destiny? John had no answers, but he knew the future now rested in his hands—to revive the dying embers or let history take its course.

He didn't care if pitchforks were pointed at him; his resolve was as sharp as any pike. With hope, John knew the path ahead would be arduous, but even a tiny bit of light in the darkness would carry him forward. He was ready to lead and rally the spirit of the Byzantine Empire once again.

The rise and fall of empires are woven into the fabric of history, but John was determined to leave an indelible mark. As he and his companions marveled at the faded grandeur of the military school, John steeled himself.

"Let's set aside the Golden Horn crisis for now; military might built this empire from its inception," John said. "If push comes to shove, without the power to resist external threats, I will crush the internal foes with brute force."

The fate of the Byzantine Empire rested on his young shoulders, and the echoes of the past, both triumphant and tragic, served as a reminder of the empire's enduring legacy.

"Ah, welcome, Your Highness," clad in heavy lamellar, a seemingly dignified man greeted John and his companions.

"I apologize for not welcoming you earlier; as you can see, I was handling urgent matters."

"I understand, Gavriel. It was also my fault for arriving abruptly when you were busy," John replied with a smile.

Gavriel bowed respectfully and invited the trio into his office. Inside, the scene was one of disorganized chaos.

Maps and military reports cluttered the desk, and the walls were adorned with intricate battle plans and historical charts—stories of the empire's glorious past juxtaposed with present challenges.

"I apologize for the mess, Your Highness," Gavriel said.

"No worries," John replied, restraining him. "It shows how dedicated you are to your office as Megas Domestikos."

Gavriel smiled, recalling the sight of a five-year-old John wielding a sword with grace, performing the sacred arts of the Scholae Palatinae in the Blachernae Palace's secluded backyard.

At the time, Gavriel was merely a palace guard tasked with keeping the young despot safe.

He later entrusted his protégé, Demetrius, to serve John after he was appointed as a Domestikos and transferred to the military school.

The coronation of John had left an indelible impression on Gavriel.

It was a historic and magnificent event, surpassing even the grandeur of Manuel II's coronation. Fellow domestikoi unanimously agreed—it would be remembered for ages.

"Demetrius, I hope you've been fulfilling your duty in protecting our young despot," Gavriel playfully prodded the young hetaireia beside John and Pavlos.

Demetrius straightened his posture and replied confidently, "Far from being the protector, sire, it is the young despot who has taken care of me instead!"

Gavriel's tongue clicked at his former protégé's spirited response and ordered him to stand at ease.

John and Pavlos watched with amusement as Demetrius settled into a more relaxed demeanor.

"Now then, pray tell me the reason for this sudden visit, if I may respectfully inquire, Your Highness?"

Gavriel's once carefree countenance transformed into the steely demeanor of a seasoned general readying for war.

The room, once filled with ease, now crackled with tension, as though the air was electrified with anticipation.

Sunlight filtered through narrow windows, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch towards the trio like the outstretched arms of fate.

The flickering candlelight, normally comforting, now danced with trepidation, mirroring the uncertainty in the room.

John and Pavlos exchanged a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the weight of the moment. Their loyal knight, Demetrius, stood steadfast beside them. The portraits on the walls gazed down upon the scene, their painted eyes seeming to hold the secrets of a bygone era.

"Megas Domestikos, I value your expertise greatly. What are your thoughts on our current military system?"

The co-emperor began his inquiry like an interviewer to an interviewee.

"Do you believe it is strong enough to endure another all-out siege like the one we faced six years ago? I seek your honest evaluation," His tone earnest and expectant.

Gavriel caressed his curly beards, deep in thought, before responding, "If you seek my honest opinion, I must say no; our current manpower is inadequate to properly man the walls, let alone defend the entire circumference."

He then approached a meticulously prepared map, tracing strategic defensive positions on the city walls.

"These are the Theodosian Walls, once a formidable defense. But time and conflict have taken their toll, leaving weakened sections vulnerable to breaches. Repairing them is a necessity, but we are stretched thin in resources."

Pavlos frowned, absorbing the grim reality.

"And how is our current manpower? How many soldiers can we muster to defend the city in case of an attack, or worse, sieges?"

"At best, my lords, we can muster about 7,000 to 12,000 men, even with the mercenaries available - barely a scratch. The Byzantine Empire, once boasting vast legions, now struggles to field even a simple peasants to garrison its walls." Gavriel replied.

"And what about provisions and arms? Are we adequately supplied to sustain a prolonged defense?" John inquired further.

"Provisions are scarce, Your Highness. Our resources have been depleted by constant conflicts, leaving us ill-prepared to face an extended siege."

Gavriel fervently shook his heads at John's words, then his expression turned melancholic as he added,

"As for arms, we have some."

"But it is not enough to arm all the men we can muster."

"At worst, we can provide sticks and stones if necessary, but surviving any onslaught would be catastrophically impossible," Gavriel wryly explained.

Demetrius nodded in agreement without saying anything, stood still there in the corner of the room as mere spectator, having witnessed the decline of the once-proud Byzantine army, as a military man himself.

"And what of the mentality of our troops? Are they capable of giving their all for the empire when everything has gone to ruin?"

"Our army's morale is defensive, Your Highness."

"They lack the vigor and spirit of conquest that once defined our legions. While I don't know how they would act when defeat is certain, I can assure you they have what it takes to be proud men of Rome," Gavriel replied.

"So, what do you propose we do, Gavriel? How can we fortify our defenses and ensure the safety of our beloved city?" Pavlos asked, his mind racing with the stark realities.

"If you ask me, personally, I'd say; allocate whatever resources we can to fortify the vulnerable sections of the walls," Gavriel said, and then further added,

"We need to recruit and train more troops, even if it means calling upon the citizens of Constantinople to defend their homes."

"But beyond that, we need to inspire a new spirit within our army. Reminding them of our legacy of old can no longer reverse the tide; we need something fresh to bolster our dwindling morale."

John nodded thoughtfully, appreciating the gravity of Gavriel's words. "Your counsel is invaluable, Gavriel. I trust your judgment, and we shall act upon your recommendations."

Gavriel bowed in appreciation to John's acknowledgement.

As he let out everything he had in this conversation, his mind and soul found peace, but his heart still burned hot.

He looked forward to whatever the young co-emperor had in mind.

Gavriel had unwavering faith in John, the same faith he had in the comrades who fought alongside him during the siege six years ago.

As a seasoned soldier, Gavriel knew nothing of ruling a nation, but he possessed the spirit and courage to face any battlefield.

John gazed out of the window, lost in deep contemplation. The room fell into a hushed silence as everyone awaited his opinion on the pressing matter.

Pavlos, standing nearby, looked at him with the expression of a proud grandfather watching his grandchild grow into a reliable and strong individual.

To Pavlos, John was more than just a co-emperor; he had come to see him as his own grandson, despite having no biological children of his own.

As the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere thickened. The walls held the weight of history, echoing with whispers of past rulers and their decisions that had shaped the fate of Constantinople.

John felt the burden of leadership pressing upon him, knowing that the choices he made today would reverberate through time.

He understood that the future of the Byzantine Empire hinged on his ability to rally the people, to fortify the city, and to forge a new path amidst the crumbling ruins of the past.

After what felt like an eternity, John finally broke the silence.

"We shall strengthen the walls, recruit every able-bodied man and woman to defend this city, and inspire them with a vision of a renewed empire. We will not simply stand on the remnants of past glory; we will create a new legacy, one that will withstand the tests of time."

His voice, though measured, carried an undeniable determination that resonated with everyone in the room.

"Let us begin," John declared, turning to his companions. "The fate of Constantinople is in our hands, and we shall not fail."

Gavriel, Pavlos, and Demetrius stood united with John, ready to follow his lead.