-----------------------------
If we reach 15 comments. You have five hours from the time this chapter is posted. If we reach the goal, the next chapter will be posted in eight hours.(Valid comments must include information about what you like or dislike about the story, what you would like to see about the story, or any questions you may have about the story, as the devil is in the details.)
-----------------------------
If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
-------------------------------
Anno Domini 828,June-27
"Damn, this was badly needed," I said as I scrubbed my body forcefully, trying to remove all the filth I was covered in.
"It is not that bad, Basil. It is not as terrible as you think," Sigurd said while washing himself as well.
"That is because you are an… forgive the word… ignorant. I know far more things than you do, and believe me, getting sick just from walking where we walked would be the best possible outcome. That is exactly why I ordered everyone who went with me to wash thoroughly. I do not want an epidemic of whatever disease we might have picked up. What you enjoy is the happiness of ignorance, something I do not have," I said while emptying a bucket of water over my hair.
"You sound more and more like those madmen from the books, Basil. If I did not know you, I would think you are going soft," Sigurd replied with a smile.
"Yeah, sure. I killed more than you in the battle, so do not go boasting about anything," I answered, scrubbing my feet intensely with soap.
"Because I have to stay guarding someone instead of going like that jarl who killed almost fifty Sarakenoi all by himself?" Sigurd complained while imitating what I was doing.
"That man was loaded with psychoactive substances. He probably did not even feel the blows. He must have been a monster for the Sarakenoi to face something like that. Just tell them to cut down on that beer. I do not want them losing control right now," I said, finally stepping out of the therma.
I noticed that all my hird were washing themselves, since no one liked being covered in what we had endured to win, and I began to dress, as I still had many things to do in Antioch.
We had taken the city in a very filthy way, literally having to enter through a cursed sewer that stank terribly and was filled with foul water. But a victory is a victory, no matter how it is achieved. What matters is winning.
Now the city of Antioch once again flew the banner of Rome, but at a considerable cost. Although we entered the city and caught the defenders poorly positioned, for a long time there were bloody battles where many of the forces of the Strategos of Cyprus died. His troops did not wear as much armor as mine, so even engagements that would not have posed a problem for the heavy infantry of the Empire became deadly for them.
Being naval forces, they did not wear metal armor, only equipment meant to resist projectiles. Only a select group carried heavy armor, those responsible for boarding actions. As a result, their losses were severe when they entered through the gates they were tasked with securing.
The Christian garrison also suffered heavily in the fighting, since in most cases they focused on cutting off the Sarakenoi's escape routes, forcing them to fight desperately.
I suffered casualties as well, of course, like everyone. But counting all the forces, which totaled around forty two thousand men, we suffered nearly five thousand casualties between wounded and dead. Considering that we killed and captured around eighteen thousand Sarakenoi, it was a great victory. Personally, I lost around three hundred men, mostly Varangians, and their deaths were glorious in battle.
In fact, one of the things I had to do was attend the burial of the fallen Varangians. On the hills overlooking Antioch, near its walls, several pyres were raised using wood from local trees and rubble from the city. There was plenty of both, as large parts of the city were empty. Several pyres were erected to honor the fallen and allow them to reach Valhalla.
Following the rituals established in their sagas, their bodies were placed on the pyres carrying the swords I had given them, and even many of the gold coins they had earned were placed alongside them.
I had managed to prevent human sacrifices. They wanted to sacrifice Sarakenoi slaves so they would serve their masters in the next life, but with some appeasement and the demand of a compromise, I asked that this part of the ritual be avoided. There were even cases where they wanted to return to Crete and fetch their wives to sacrifice them so they could accompany their husbands into the afterlife.
So during the afternoon I placed additional gold coins on the pyres so they would have greater wealth, and I allowed some to be burned wearing their armor. Even though armor was scarce among my men, I could not strip it from them, since in more than one case they had earned it.
All were burned on their pyres as they had died, cleansing their wounds and burning their wealth and property so that the dead would retain their social status in death. Otherwise, they believed, they would return as vengeful spirits.
The pyres sent enormous columns of smoke into the sky, and the other Varangians did everything they could to make it rise as high as possible. That was how they ensured that the soul would be taken by the Valkyries.
Finally, when the pyres burned out, their ashes were collected. In some cases they were cast directly into the sea. Others would be sent to Crete, where they would be buried or scattered at sea, depending on the wishes of their families.
The real problem was the Orthodox burials. Cremation, while logistically easier, went against the doctrine of the body or the importance of the corpse, which was considered as valuable as the soul itself. For that reason, my dead could not be cremated and had to be returned to Crete for burial. They were wrapped in linen cloths and oils to slow decomposition during the return journey and were quickly transported to Rosos, from where they were sent to Crete to be buried.
The local dead were easier to manage. A piece of land was consecrated, and graves were quickly dug where the fallen were laid to rest.
Leaving aside the darkest part of the victory, we reached the most positive aspect of all: the spoils.
Antioch was one of the most important cities in the region, if not the most important of all.
Unlike other cities, Antioch had a larger Christian population than Sarakenoi, so only about twenty five thousand individuals were enslaved, including the surrendered soldiers. They were sent in groups toward Rosos for transport to Crete.
The rest were Christians, Greeks and Syriacs alike, who had barely suffered during the battle. Fortunately, the fighting ended thanks to the wali of Antioch. When he surrendered, so did his men, instead of launching a desperate resistance that would likely have increased our casualties enormously.
The loot consisted of Arab and Roman coins, but my estimate placed its total value at roughly two hundred thousand Roman gold coins when all the captured currency was accounted for. Once the rest of the plunder was sold, we would probably obtain a similar amount. The sale of the slaves was expected to bring in a comparable sum, so the total profit from taking the city exceeded half a million gold coins.
Of course, the Emperor's share was not yet included, nor had I deducted the soldiers' portions. For the moment, I only had to distribute the two hundred thousand gold and silver coins in hand among my men. The remaining loot would be divided later, once it was sold.
We had come out of this attack in a very favorable position. Antioch had been the base from which raids were launched into Anatolia, using Tarsos as a forward stronghold. If we could recover Cilicia, we could finally halt the Arab attacks into Anatolia by controlling all the mountain passes that allowed passage. That would be a massive problem for them if they attempted to continue their incursions, since they would be forced through narrow, rocky routes where their light cavalry was far less effective.
I immediately began reorganizing the city and its surrounding lands to establish thematic forces, managing to raise an army of fifteen thousand men in Antioch alone. It was a very large force, even though lands had not yet been distributed and I had only taken young men capable of fighting on a temporary basis. Even so, it would probably prove small once the four year rotation cycle began, but it was vital that the city be able to defend itself while we were not directly guarding its walls.
In total, across the new conquests, we would have around twenty three thousand men. Considering rotation, roughly five thousand troops would always be on alert for possible attacks. Even so, we would need to fortify the region much more, likely by constructing walls along the Orontes River to prevent cavalry incursions, taking advantage of the fact that Antioch dominated the stone of the hill.
We had created a large army, but one lacking experience. They had little equipment and almost no training. Everyone wore Sarakenoi armor marked with Christian symbols and carried Sarakenoi weapons. There was no formal formation. They were numbers, nothing more.
I could not ask them to clash directly with a Sarakenoi force. That would have been the end of that army. That was why I had to continue with rapid strikes and withdraw before they could respond. My next objective had to be Cilicia, since Aleppo was likely beyond our reach due to its overwhelmingly Sarakenoi population.
But before marching toward Cilicia, there was someone I needed to speak with, especially considering that the Abbasid caliph's army would descend in two months to retake Antioch.
"Strategos, I hope you have not forgotten me," said the sewer guide, removing the bandana from his head.
"Of course not. In fact, I had you in mind. You will soon have to leave the city, because my presence must now be in Cilicia to connect this territory to imperial rule and secure our gains," I replied while finishing the review of several ledgers and noting information in another.
"Yes, I am glad you are concerned for us. You told me to remind you of a generous reward for my help," the guide said.
"Of course. I have it here. Your name?" I asked, looking at him closely.
"Shimon, my strategos," he said, lowering his head slightly.
"You are Syriac, from the sound of it," I said, taking a small chest I had already prepared. "Here are fifteen hundred gold coins, your reward for helping us, and a gift so you can work with me afterward," I added, placing the chest, which weighed nearly seven kilos, on the table.
"But you have not yet told me what you want me to do, my strategos," Shimon said.
"Simply do something very similar to what you already do, only now paid by the imperial treasury. And above all, it is exactly what you are already doing," I said calmly as I watched him.
"What do I have to do then?" Shimon asked, stepping closer and glancing nervously at my hird while trying to take the chest with trembling hands.
"I need you to coordinate the spy network I have in the region. It is disorganized, and I have had little time. Many of them speak languages I do not understand. You are perfect for this. You will use part of that gold to organize, equip, purchase, and acquire new assets within the intelligence network. I want to know everything. If the caliph falls off his horse, I want to know before anyone else. Find ways to enter cities by unconventional means. Sewers, corrupt guards, whatever comes to mind," I said with a faint smile.
"Yes, I can do that. I speak many languages: Arabic, Greek, Syriac, even some Hebrew. Necessary languages for business," Shimon said, lifting the chest and smiling as he felt its weight.
"Good. I will give you all the information I have on the leaders of the intelligence cells. I need frequent reports on the condition of Sarakenoi cities: problems with their walls, sewer systems, or whether the network is growing with new collaborators. If you need more gold, tell me. But I need results, or I will have to consider replacing you," I said, pointing at the chest.
"Yes, my strategos. I swear before God that I will fulfill your orders and not disappoint you," Shimon replied.
"Good. Shimon, you may go. I will be eagerly awaiting your first report. Find my men. You know who they are, the large men from the north or some of my Greeks. In the worst case, send the report to Crete," I said, pointing toward the exit.
"Thank you, my strategos. Thank you very much," Shimon said, closing the chest with a wide smile before leaving.
Now it was time to make preparations for what was to come.
"Prepare everything. We march to Cilicia," I said to my hird.
-----------------------------
If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
-------------------------------
