kingdom of nations

Chapter 335 Two Banquets (Part 2)

The Grand Palace is located at the highest point in Constantinople. Like the palaces built by the ancient Roman emperors, it stands atop a hill, overlooking the Sea of ​​Marmara to the south.

It consists of several massive buildings, interspersed with beautiful and colorful courtyards, and its total area is comparable to that of the Old City of Constantinople.

The palace built to welcome Frederick I is the best of these buildings. From the outside, you may only see snow-white marble, golden vaults, dark oak or cypress doors and windows, or the gorgeous and light silk curtains that flutter from the multi-leaved arches and columns like the glow of the sunset.

But when you step inside, you will be completely engulfed by a starry sea of ​​gems and pearls. Looking around, you can hardly find a blank space. The vaulted ceiling is decorated with exquisite and magnificent geometric patterns—skilled craftsmen outlined the borders with gold thread and then filled them with silver foil. Every connection point of the lines is inlaid with various treasures. Each pillar here has a golden crown and base, and the pillars are decorated with lifelike reliefs. Every face has an extremely rich expression.

On the walls, artists had even more room to maneuver. Icons of saints were a given, as were mosaics depicting the emperor's achievements or love stories. Some were painted on wooden panels, others were mosaics, and still others were exquisite silk carpets.

People once praised Damascus as the garden of heaven on earth, and the Grand Palace in Constantinople could fulfill all mortal imaginations of paradise. Everyone who stepped into it couldn't help but have a thought arise in their mind—

"How wonderful it would be if this belonged to me."

However, not many people actually said it aloud. Apart from a few previous Byzantine emperors, there was now "Barbarossa," Emperor Frederick I, whose exclamation caused those who came to greet him to show anger, but this emotion, which should not have appeared in such a setting, was quickly covered up by a hypocritical smile.

Or rather, the current regent, Alexei Dukas, and the Grand Prince Bohemond of Antioch standing beside him with a forced smile, as well as all the Byzantines, shared the same idea.

The man standing before them was not a Turk, nor a mercenary leader from elsewhere; he was the Holy Roman Emperor, whose empire lay in Germany, thousands of miles away. He could not possibly abandon all of that to seek a new crown in a foreign land.

His words may sound harsh, but they won't become a real weapon.

Alexei watched with a gloomy look as Bohemond stepped forward to greet him, and then followed. After all, they had something to ask of this emperor.

After Manuel I's death, his youngest son Alexander ascended the throne.

Alexander II was only ten years old. Even if we take twelve years old as the standard for adulthood, he was still a child who was powerless to control the country and the army.

Alexios's collaboration with Theodora was no secret, nor was the cause of the emperor's death known to the public. There were even rumors in Constantinople that it was not Emperor Manuel I who was actually buried in the tomb, but rather an insignificant eunuch—the emperor's body had already been devoured by the enraged masses.

This does sound terrifying, but considering the tyrannical actions of Manuel I in the last few years of his life, it is not surprising. He may have been a good monarch, but he should have known that those closest to him are the easiest to turn against him, and capable of doing so successfully.

Later, some people asked Alexei for Theodora, believing that he had hidden the Komnenos.

Whether we're investigating the cause of the emperor's death or considering all the value of a Komnenos, Theodora is an important figure. However, Theodora was a clever woman who left Constantinople before the emperor's final cries had subsided. She is probably now living peacefully in the palace of her adopted daughter's husband, the governor of Cyprus.

No one could cross the heavily guarded barrier to harm him, and the advice she left behind kept people from paying much attention to her.

In the past, if an emperor died and a young child was left behind, it was common for powerful ministers and the empress dowager to reach an agreement to jointly control the imperial pilgrimage.

However, for the Alexios and Ducas families, a woman from a Crusader state and a Latin noblewoman should not have interfered in the affairs and politics of Byzantium. In fact, it could be said that the conflict between the two was already very intense when Manuel I was still alive.

Especially compared to the previous queen, Mary of Antioch was undoubtedly much more vulgar and shallow.

They killed Mary of Antioch as Theodora had desired. Although they knew that by doing so, they were essentially being used by Theodora—indeed, upon learning of Emperor Manuel I's death, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch immediately rushed to Constantinople. As the future emperor's uncle, he was more qualified to be regent than anyone else, both in Constantinople and in the Christian country.

But Ducas was not about to let what he had in his grasp be easily taken by others. The two sides fought for several months, and even joined forces on several occasions to repel other forces that wanted to seize power.

However, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch originally had little chance of winning—Alexander II was too young to build up his own power, and he could not fully trust his uncle, whom he did not know very well.

The people of Constantinople might support a regent with great talent and ambition, just as they would want a valiant emperor. Alexei was chosen by the Ducas family precisely because of his outstanding skills and exceptional military talent—although he had no brilliant military achievements before—after all, the commander of each expedition could only be the emperor. But he was still better than the Grand Prince of Antioch, who had accompanied Manuel I on his expedition, only to be defeated by the Turks not long afterward, and whose army suffered a crushing defeat due to the burning of almost all of his siege equipment.

However, this situation changed somewhat after the call of the Third Crusade was fulfilled. The cunning Grand Duke of Antioch, through intermediaries, made contact with Frederick I, the Holy Roman Emperor. Although the Bohemond family, as the masters of Apulia and Calabria, had fought against Barbarossa, this did not prevent Frederick I from being pleased with the Grand Duke of Antioch's subservience.

However, after Frederick I accepted the invitation from Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch instead of the regent Alexius, their positions underwent a fundamental change.

Frederick I led an army of about 30,000 men—though the number was claimed to be 100,000, only about 15,000 were actually capable of fighting. This number may not seem unusual to later generations, but it was an unimaginably large number for that era.

After all, when Manuel I fought Arslan II, the entire Byzantine army numbered only 20,000 to 30,000 men, including laborers.

Because of the struggle for power, Constantinople had seen several wars, both overt and covert, and the Ducas family dared not use all their resources to fill the void left by Manuel I.

Even though the emperor's archenemy, Arslan II, had already taken this opportunity to seize a considerable amount of land that had originally belonged to the Byzantine Empire.

Alexius was caught in a dilemma. He was certainly not afraid of battle; after all, he was a soldier. But he had to consider whether Dukas, or rather, his weakened state, would allow others to take advantage of the situation—such as Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, who was by his side. The arrival of Frederick I, however, gave him a glimmer of hope. The Byzantine emperor had been employing these Christian knights to fight for him for quite some time—the famous Varangian Guard soldiers came from Northern Europe and England—and this time they were merely using the Holy Roman Emperor to fight their own enemies.

In any case, Frederick I's army was bound to pass through the Sultanate of Rum. Unless Arslan II could tolerate this humiliation and threat, war would be absolutely unavoidable.

Although such a request would undoubtedly put the empire's treasury to the test, blood loss is better than the loss of a limb. However, once he conceived of this idea, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch's disadvantage immediately turned into an advantage. As a fellow Christian knight and a lord fighting for God, he was the one most likely to gain Frederick I's favor.

At least in this negotiation, Alexei could not exclude him.

Therefore, they had to maintain a temporary peace, and Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch was finally able to extend his reach into Constantinople. After much bargaining, Alexios had no choice but to grant Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch the title of "Supreme One".

In Greek, "Supreme One" means "noble ruler." This title was created by Emperor Alexius I to thank his brother Isaac for relinquishing the throne. However, the title did not have any real meaning; it only indicated that the holder was close enough to the emperor and ranked below the absolute monarch in the hierarchy.

Although Alexei only held the title of Chief Noble, he wielded real power with the support of the Ducas family.

Standing behind him were, of course, Byzantine nobles and officials. Similarly, behind the Grand Duke of Antioch were many Christian knights and officials—all of whom had been gradually brought into the court after the emperor married Mary of Antioch.

Even though Marie of Antioch is now just a skeleton in a sarcophagus, it doesn't stop them from continuing to fight for their own interests.

Frederick I was led into the hall by these two men with ulterior motives.

Alexander II, who was sitting upright on the throne, looked particularly lonely and pitiful compared to the emperor Frederick I, who was surrounded by his retinue. He was only accompanied by Varangian guards and a few eunuchs. Although he tried to raise his head and put on an imposing and unassailable appearance, anyone, let alone a battle-hardened emperor like Frederick I, could see that he was outwardly fierce but inwardly weak.

Frederick I strode toward him, gazing at the young emperor from about ten paces away.

Although the throne was located on a high platform, which was four or five steps above the ground, Alexander II still had to look up at Frederick I, the Holy Roman Emperor, whose saint was the famous Saint Theodore.

He was once a soldier in the Roman army, and like Saint George, he also had a legend of slaying a dragon. Those who could sense him were certainly not ordinary people. Frederick I's physique was almost comparable to Walter's.

"The emperor need not bow to the emperor," Frederick I said with a hearty laugh. "And I am delighted to see a young friend here, child. Are we friends?"

The young emperor already showed a look of deep humiliation. No matter how naive and pampered he was, he could hear the malice in Frederick I's words. But he could not resist Alexius, nor his uncle Bohemond of Antioch, and of course, he could not stand up to this lion. He lowered his head, the purple of his robe stinging his eyes. The child almost roared out loud, but he held back and could only answer with difficulty: "Yes, of course we are friends, Emperor of Rome."

This title was far more painful than he had imagined. The Byzantine Empire did not recognize the so-called Holy Roman Empire at all. This was the work of Frederick I alone—every Byzantine emperor, that is, the Eastern Roman emperor, believed that they were the purest and most legitimate successors of Rome.

Frederick I believed that the Byzantine Empire, which was already in decline, was not worthy of such a glorious title, and that his empire should be fortunate enough to become the hegemon of Eurasia.

The fuss of a child was not taken seriously by these cunning politicians. Frederick I unceremoniously took the seat next to the emperor, ignoring the fork and spoon placed to the side—besides a dagger, his only cutlery was his three fingers.

Dishes were served one after another—precious spices ground into powder and mixed with vinegar or fish sauce in crystal jars, bread piled high, and sea fish swimming in schools in a sea of ​​wine…

To entertain Frederick I, the banquet included not only the usual meats but also many fresh and expensive dishes, such as mullet roe and caviar, roasted partridge, crow, and thrush, and mushrooms stewed with frankincense, lavender, carnations, cinnamon, a touch of vinegar, and honey. However, as a Christian knight, Frederick I ignored these exquisite foods, only repeatedly ordering his servants to add more meat. Such behavior was undoubtedly despised in Byzantium, where the Byzantines, who also believed in God, considered gluttony one of their sins.

They enjoy good food, but they are particular about the finest and most exquisite dishes. For them, being overweight or having a large appetite is not a compliment.

For a moment, the only sound in the hall was Frederick I chewing loudly. The young emperor, who had been pushed to the side, looked blank. He could barely eat anything and could only drink one cup of wine after another. However, he was not a good drinker, even though he tried his best to hear whether Frederick I had agreed to their request—Alexei had told him about it.

But in the end, he never heard Frederick I's promise and could only drift off into a deep sleep.

When he woke up, he was back in that magnificent yet gloomy room, a place he didn't want to stay in. It was there that his father had died.

However, no one listened to his opinion. Although Alexei thought it was a small matter, he did not want to cause any more trouble.

Those in the Grand Palace had mentioned, intentionally or unintentionally, that the emperor's death was not swift or holy. Even though the Patriarch of Constantinople claimed to have performed all the sacraments for the emperor, if those rumors were true, the young emperor knew that his father's soul was probably suffering in the flames of hell.

And then there was his mother… How he longed to be nestled in his mother's arms at that moment, but she died before she could even return to Constantinople. People said she died of a broken heart from excessive grief, but only Alexander II knew that his mother was actually a frivolous woman who had married the emperor only for his power and the title of empress, and had never truly loved him.

After having him, she hoped even more that the emperor would go elsewhere and not disturb her.

If you were to say that a woman like his mother would commit suicide for the emperor, even if he was only nine years old, he would absolutely not believe it. But what could he do?
He was just glad he could keep his own life. Thinking of this, the young emperor curled up under the blanket and began to sob.

(End of this chapter)