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Anno Domini 829, June-12
The clash of metal echoed from every direction as I entered the palace of Pliska.
The walls had finally given way after another month of relentless punishment. They had collapsed beneath the constant fire of the trebuchets, and since we had deployed an enormous amount of machinery to prevent the defenders from using the battlements and launching their own projectiles effectively, it proved relatively simple to clear the rubble once they fell and open a path to the palace gates, which were eventually shattered beneath the rams.
My Varangians surged inside, hungry for victory, and I followed them, advancing through blood soaked corridors where bodies lay scattered everywhere, marked by the unmistakable wounds of polehammers.
Rib cages completely crushed. Skulls flattened. Teeth scattered across the floor. Eyes torn free and lying among the remains.
And blood everywhere. The stone beneath my boots was covered by a thin red layer that made each step treacherous.
I moved with my hird toward the sound of fighting. No one was being spared, and as I glanced into one of the chambers, I found a group of servants butchered without hesitation while the Varangians continued forward, killing whatever stood in their path.
I climbed the stairs, stepping around the heaps of corpses piled upon the steps, until at last we reached the place where the final blows were being struck.
Without delay we entered the great hall of Pliska, where the Bulgarian khan had ruled the territories his people had conquered and from where he had launched raids that had nearly undone the Empire. That problem ended here.
If Theophilos managed to persuade or threaten the Serbs into abandoning the Balkans, we could speak of a true imperial recovery, with vast lands to reorganize and fortify. For now, however, my interest lay farther north in the lands of what is now Wallachia and Moldavia, which would be the first occupied to create permanent Varangian settlements.
Hungary would come later, although that might bring conflict with the Carolingian marches. If we established a state on those plains that answered to the Empire, it would be the ideal place to open the gates to the Varangians in mass numbers, not only Crete, and to maintain a vast recruitment ground in case of any emergency campaign, since once this war ended I intended to retire, though first I would have to extend the campaign beyond Bulgaria and secure the territories the emperor expected for the settlement of my men.
At last my soldiers broke the guards blocking the passage, and we entered the final chamber, protected by the few nobles and guards who remained. There was a chance my targets might die in the last moment, but that risk was unavoidable.
The last defenders ceased fighting when they understood that no hope remained. They cast their swords to the floor and fell to their knees to avoid dying where they stood, and one by one the others followed, attempting to shield the noble families, most of them too young or too valuable to have taken part in the fighting.
I saw a man who seemed to have no intention of resisting, his gaze defeated yet still proud.
"And thus fall those who believed they could defeat Rome" I said in Bulgarian as I looked at the one who appeared to be the khan.
He lifted his head at the sound of his own tongue spoken by a Roman.
"A Roman speaking Bulgarian" he replied, meeting my gaze.
"Yes I was forced to learn it" I said, pushing aside a guard who attempted to block my path while my hird forced him away, and I placed my hand upon the khan's cheek, gripping his chin hard. "Being a Bulgarian slave forced me to learn your language, and after a decade of slavery, and nearly another climbing through the bureaucracy for my vengeance, here I stand, the one who will destroy the Bulgarians."
He jerked his face violently to free himself from my hand and looked at me with defiance.
"Still combative I see Omurtag, but what use is that now that your empire has fallen, all that Krum built shattered under your reign, the last khan of Bulgaria" I said, spreading my arms to gesture toward the palace while my Varangians continued disarming everyone.
"What will become of us Roman? Will you negotiate for our freedom? Will we march in chains through your streets? How do you intend to satisfy your vengeance?" he said, his voice torn between fury and resignation.
"One must be diligent, and one must begin with the first. Tell me where is the zhupan of Karnobat or any of his descendants?" I asked, turning to look directly into his eyes.
"Him? I suppose your master, slave" Omurtag answered.
My fist struck his face with enough force to send him crashing to the floor.
"Calm yourself. Your turn will come. You are on my list khan. Just answer the question" I said, turning my head toward a group of men dressed in similar fashion, who must have been his sons. "I may begin with them."
"He… ah… died days ago" he replied, covering his mouth in pain. "While leaning against the walls, one of the stones you hurled crushed him. He died almost instantly."
"Lucky bastard" I muttered, disappointed. "If I had caught him, I had many things planned for him. Now tell me what of his sons? What of them?"
"Dead I suppose… he had three sons and they went to fight. They were on the lower levels, so if you do not have them in chains they are dead" the khan replied as he returned to sit upon his throne, still covering his mouth.
"And daughters?" I asked, noticing no obvious figure left upon whom to vent my rage.
"How should I know…" he began, but when he saw my fist clench and me step closer, he continued quickly. "I do not know where they are. I know the zhupan married them to someone, but I do not know to whom. He was not important enough for me to know everything about him."
I extended my hand as if to seize him by the throat.
"Damn it… damn it… curse it… the bastard slipped through my fingers and no one remains…" I growled, clenching my fists and jaw.
"What did he say?" Sigurd asked with his arms crossed as he stared at me.
"The bastard is dead. His sons too. And he knows nothing about his daughters" I replied while breathing heavily and covering my face for a moment.
"Tsh… some bastards have too much luck. I would have liked to see his punishment. It seems his gods granted him a swift end to spare him from falling into your hands" Sigurd said coldly.
I kicked the corpse of one of the guards and the metallic impact echoed through the hall.
"Damn it… tell whoever you wish to fill their pockets with this town. Let them loot it. Take the entire population as slaves. After that burn everything. Not a single building is to remain standing. I will make sure no record of this cursed place survives when this is over" I said still furious before turning back toward the khan.
The Bulgarians grew visibly tense under my gaze.
"Good… next on the list. Consider that bastard spared from my fury. You however are alive and that is worse" I said watching him.
"What will it be then Roman?" he answered with a broken voice.
"I want the heads of those three" I said pointing at the khan's sons who still stood looking at me with hatred and fear intertwined.
Without hesitation the hird moved. They shoved aside shrieking women and weeping children while the Varangians seized the young nobles who struggled in vain. They forced them to their knees and held them in place. One Varangian stepped forward raising his great axe.
"Your vengeance is with me bastard not with my sons!" the khan shouted as he rose at the sight.
I seized him by the arm and drove my knee into his liver. I felt the air leave his lungs. I locked him from behind my arm around his neck and my other hand gripping his head forcing him to watch.
"Do you remember a cleric named Theodore? A Greek from Karnobat who sent you letters seeking audience… do you remember?" I whispered into his ear while he struggled for breath.
"If you do not recall he taught me to read and write. A good man who did not deserve to die. By your orders he was killed. The only reason your dynasty dies today is because of him. The basileus might have negotiated. He might have accepted your withdrawal from the Empire. When I learned what you did to one of the few clerics worthy of honor your fate was sealed. The heads of your sons yours and your father's will be cups as Krum made of Nicephoros" I said with hatred.
The axe fell and the first head rolled across the stone.
"If you think your sons are innocent Theodore was too bastard. He harmed no one. He cooperated with your empire and you killed him regardless" I added tightening my hold without fully choking him.
The axe fell again. The second head rolled and was thrown before him.
"I will see you on the other side" I murmured at last pressing harder until he ceased struggling. I released him and he collapsed to the floor.
The third head followed moments later.
"Deliver them to the physicians. Have them prepare the skulls as cups. They will be sent to Theophilos" I ordered as I drew my sword.
I raised the blade and aimed at the helpless khan's neck. With one clean stroke blood sprayed across the stone. His head separated from his body. I lifted it with my hands and stared into his lifeless eyes while the hall fell silent.
I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath as I heard the blood drip from the severed head. For the first time in years I felt the weight of those men lift from my shoulders.
I felt light. At last it was over. At last this filth with the Bulgarians had ended.
I turned and looked at the trembling Bulgarians who awaited their fate. I no longer felt the hatred I should have felt. It made no difference what order came next. Whether they died or lived in chains, nothing would change. Chaos had already been sown in Bulgaria. Without much of their nobility and without their khan, they would remain disorganized for who knew how long.
"Chain the rest. No more blood is needed" I said, placing Omurtag's head beneath my arm.
My men obeyed without question, and I walked through the palace of Pliska searching for the bodies of the zhupan's sons.
With the blood and filth and the corpses beginning to swell after releasing their bowels in death, it became pointless to continue searching, so I abandoned the thought.
I ordered the survivors taken out in chains and the looting of the palace to begin. I asked only one thing for myself: the head of Nikephoros I. They found it at last in the khan's private chamber, preserved as a trophy.
After that we desecrated the tomb of the khan's family. We unearthed Krum's corpse, removed his skull, and cast his bones into the street. We did the same with every other member of his dynasty we found. Each skull was taken, and their remains were scattered in the dust of Pliska.
With nothing left to do, I prepared the heads to be treated and shaped into cups and declared the siege concluded when my men left the palace stripped of all valuables.
I did not know what would become of Pliska. It might serve as the capital of a new Bulgarian thema, though that decision belonged to Theophilos. For now it was nothing but an empty shell, devoid of life.
When we gathered what we needed and prepared to march north, Pliska had become a ghost city, with no one left to claim it.
At last I summoned all the Varangians and their leaders to present the new terms and what would follow. The campaign against Bulgaria was finished, and only the securing of the Balkan territories remained, which other strategos would likely assume. We however would continue northward to claim new lands.
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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.
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