Nine days after beginning training the Workers’ Army with the manual, Alexios volunteered for sentry duty. Things were going well, and he trusted that Herakleia, the warrior Qutalmish, and the workers and peasants would be fine without him. Besides, leading by example was important—Alexios had no desire to be voted out of power as kentarch—and that meant sometimes taking on the dullest duties of all.
Riding a borrowed horse on the Satala road between pine tree mountains shrouded in rainclouds, Alexios relieved the watchtower guard. This happened to be Anna the peasant mother, who was one of Alexios’s favorite students. After just over a week of sparring, marching, and drilling, she looked radiant, and had even taken a children’s reading primer to pass the time, looking up at the rainy valley every few minutes to check for Romans in between scratching letters into the dirt with a stick. Few peasants or workers could write their own names, or even count to a hundred, but within months Alexios suspected they would be using dialectical materialism to drive Sophronios the Metropolitan out of his mind. He had enjoyed teaching them, and after so much work his Teaching Skill had increased to Apprentice (4/10).
The watchtower lay at the top of a near-vertical path that zigzagged back and forth up Mount Eugenios, named time out of mind for the city’s patron saint. When Alexios arrived, having led his horse there on foot, he saluted Anna with his right fist. She returned his salute, reported that only merchants had come and gone along the Satala road in the last day, then asked if he would check her writing.
“You aren’t going to beat me up again if I refuse?” Alexios said.
She blushed. “Of course not, sir.”
Copying the primer’s instructions, she had scratched, in cursive Greek: “Our Father, who art in heaven.”
He read the words, then looked up at her. “Congratulations.”
“I didn’t make any mistakes?” She cleared her throat. “Sir.”
“There aren’t any mistakes. You did a great job.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Anna lunged forward and hugged him so tightly her breasts pressed against his chest. She fell back while Alexios turned away.
“Sorry, sir,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—it’s just—I never thought I would learn to read. I never even thought I could learn to read.”
“I’m happy for you.” Alexios was still turned to the side; he was doing this to hide his erection. “You’ve taken your first step into a beautiful world,” he stammered. “I don’t even know how different I’d be right now if I couldn’t read. It’s a crime that nobody taught you.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. There just wasn’t any reason to learn.” She gestured to the green mountains and valleys extending into the distance. “What could I learn from reading, except how to rule the world?”
Alexios laughed. “Your transformation is really amazing. I mean, on the first day of class, you were a good student, you asked questions, you volunteered, but you’ve really blossomed since then—”
“Sir.” She looked at him. “I was hoping I could ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“I noticed,” she began. “I noticed that you’re alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well—you have no wife—”
He looked at her. “What difference does that make?”
“It’s so obvious you love Herakleia,” Anna said. “Everyone knows. All of us know it cannot be—between you and her. Because of the wedding with the doux next week. And there are so few men in the city. All of them are taken. But you, sir, you are kinder, stronger, more handsome, and more intelligent than all of them.”
Alexios coughed. “Uh—I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m not perfect, I have all kinds of flaws you don’t even know about—”
“Like what?”
Like, for example, the fact that I can’t control myself around one of my students.
Alexios awkwardly failed to answer Anna’s question. He lost charisma XP as a result.
She averted her eyes and lowered her voice. “I’ve been hoping you would notice me. But you think me only a friend, only a student…”
“You are my student,” Alexios said. “And such a good one, you’ve already taught me so much.”
“I have children. I know you are childless, and that they would be a burden to you. My husband Germanos, God rest his soul, he died just over a year ago when we were fleeing Hebdomon. The mourning period is over for me.”
“Wait a minute, Anna—”
“We are both alone.” She stepped toward him and kissed his lips.
For a moment, Alexios kissed her back, surprised by how much Anna excited him. He hadn’t seen Tamar in more than a week, since she was too busy preparing for the doux’s wedding. Herakleia had also been keeping things platonic. But he still stepped away.
“I can’t,” he said.
Anna looked down. “If you think me ugly—”
“No, it’s nothing like that. You’re beautiful. But it isn’t appropriate. You’re my student—and my subordinate. I mean, we’re all comrades here, but discipline is necessary in the military, we need ranks, especially in combat—”
“I’ll quit,” Anna said. “Then I can be your wife.”
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t do that to yourself. You’ve learned so much!”
“But what’s the point?”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. A long time ago, back where I come from, I couldn’t even get a girlfriend. And now…”
“Many women want you. But they weren’t lucky enough to be alone with you. The city is so crowded.”
“Not many people seem bothered by the crowds. I’ve seen more public sex in the last week than I ever thought I—”
She stepped forward and tried to kiss him again, but he stepped back.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “How old are you?”
“I turn twenty-three this coming Michaelmas,” she said.
“Twenty-three.” Alexios was shocked by how young Anna was. She had looked at least ten years older when they had first met. “You’re five years older than me.”
“We are of marriageable age. I have no husband, you have no wife…”
“I just—Anna, I can’t do this. Believe me, I would, I really would, I think you’re a great person, it’s just—”
“Is it my children?”
“No, it’s—there’s so much happening. We need to stay focused. Maybe after we beat the Romans, or we find out they aren’t even coming…”
Her shoulders fell. She looked so sad that Alexios stepped forward and hugged her. She always felt so cold for some reason, even when it was hot outside.
“You’re a good catch,” he said awkwardly. “You’ll find someone who will make you happy.”
“I already have,” she said.
Holding her shoulders, Alexios was about to kiss her when he noticed something in the distance.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
“What?” She turned to look.
Far away, where the valleys intersected the horizon and mountains, at the end of the Zigana Pass, something was moving. A dark mass covered the road between the forest. Drums, fifes, and singing echoed across the mountains.
“Roma, O Roma…”
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Anna and Alexios looked at each other. Without speaking, they seized their horses by the reins and scrambled down Mount Eugenios, scattering rocks and pebbles and dust, slipping once, twice, three times. When they had reached the road, Anna mounted her horse and took off at a gallop, but Alexios was unable to keep up with her because his ride was tired from spending half the day traveling. Anna slowed and turned around.
“Keep going!” He waved to her. “Don’t stop until you get to the city! I’ll catch up with you!”
“But sir,” she said, “there could be scouts—”
“That’s an order! Please just do as you’re told! The most important thing is warning the city!”
Nodding, she turned back and was soon moving so quickly he lost sight of her. Alexios thought she was majestic, riding like that with her red and white dress billowing in the wind.
Then, remembering that the moment was here—the Romans had arrived—he reproved himself for being distracted, and urged his horse on to a canter, which was the fastest speed the poor beast could manage. Looking over his shoulder, Alexios noticed to his relief that the Romans were out of sight. It would hopefully take them at least a day to reach the city.
We’re completely unprepared, he thought. I couldn’t even tell how many Romans are coming. It could be hundreds, maybe thousands. That’s how many they’d need to take Trebizond—if the walls were in better shape. We haven’t even stored enough food. The Romans can starve us out in a few weeks, if they want. But then how would they supply themselves out here?
He looked down at his horse. The animal would be eaten if the siege lasted more than a few weeks. Then he looked back up at the mountains.
We talked about making a relay system here, he thought. We could have bought Trebizond a few more hours. But we just didn’t have the manpower. One guard was all we could spare. Everyone has more work than they know what to do with.
It was almost night when he descended Mount Minthrion toward the city walls, which sloped along the hills to the sea. He noticed, even in the fading sunset, that the Daphnous suburbs were abandoned, the market was silent, and the mines and monasteries in the nearby mountains were empty.
Looks like Anna made it, Alexios thought. Thank God.
Many people were holding torches below the walls and hammering at loose bricks from the scaffolds. Others were digging a trench along the city’s southern flank, between the moat on the western side and the stream on the eastern side. Back when they had been planning for the siege, Qutalmish had told them: “Dig more ditches! If you finish one ditch, dig another ditch! If you attack city protected by ditches, is very hard! Men fall, horses trip, siege equipment breaks! For them, it is big problem!”
Now, as a result, the workers and peasants had destroyed the portion of the Satala Road closest to the city. They had even organized a relay to move buckets of stones inside the walls. Children were running around, picking up all the rocks they could carry, and bringing them to a line of women, who were passing the buckets of rocks through the Satala Gate.
“Rocks are useful in siege,” Qutalmish had told Alexios earlier. “They are easy to find. You throw them and they hurt enemy. They are çok güzel!”
“It’s not so dramatic, though,” Alexios had said.
“No, but taking city by force is very hard if we prepare. Even if Rûm have thousands of men. For us, starvation is real problem.”
Alexios also checked the sea. The Paralos and a few merchantmen lay within the harbor’s protective wall, while dozens of fishing boats were resting on the coastal rocks and pebbles.
If the sea can feed us, we just might make it, Alexios thought. Hopefully the Roman armada was destroyed.
One guard watching the road saluted him as he passed—it was Irena, Gabras’s serving girl—though Alexios was so tired he almost lacked the strength to return the salute. Another guard stationed above the Satala Gate saluted— it was Ioannes the former troublemaker—then shouted over his shoulder that Kentarch Leandros had returned. Inside the citadel everything was so crowded and busy that no one noticed.
This is how things will be when I die, Alexios thought. The world will continue without me, just as it did before I was born.
Alexios dismounted, brought his horse to grumpy Leon in the citadel stables, and somehow found himself in the Upper Town before the Church of the All Holy Gold-Headed Mother of God, too tired to remember how he had gotten there. The Upper Town contained only two streets, one running north-south, the other east-west, each so narrow you could almost touch both sides with your arms outstretched; the church lay at the intersection’s northwest corner. In all four directions the streets were packed with men, women, and children sitting or standing while eating bread. Everyone was packed so closely together Alexios almost couldn’t get through. All the mansion doors were open, and their courtyards were full of people. Trebizond always seemed crowded and populous to Alexios, but he had never seen it like this; he was worried about people panicking and crushing each other. But for the moment things were calm and quiet—given the circumstances—except for some singing coming from the church. Hundreds of little yellow candle flames wavered inside with each breath of wind, and the heavy sweet reek of myrrh was overpowering. Dark veiled figures of older people bowed and prayed with Sophronios and the priests, monks, and nuns who had retreated from the churches and monasteries in the surrounding hills.
Only a loaf of bread and a cup of wine was available for each person tonight, but food was strangely filling and nourishing here. Unable to find a place to sit, Alexios stood in the middle of the crowd and munched his bread, swaying with fatigue, his eyelids fluttering. His stamina was almost all gone, and the game voice warned that his exhaustion would begin to affect Alexios’s health.
Is it possible to fall asleep while standing?
Herakleia suddenly stepped into the dim light of the few oil lamps hanging from the mansions’ outer walls. She grabbed Alexios’s hand and pulled him to the citadel so hard that he dropped his cup of wine and loaf of bread. He tried to go back and get them, but she was too strong.
“Come on!” Herakleia shouted.
When he looked back, one barefoot child snatched his bread and another picked up the cup of spilled wine. Then they disappeared into the dim mass of shifting bodies.
“You can eat inside.” Herakleia dragged him through the citadel gate. “Jesus, I’ve been looking for you for the last half hour.”
“I was hungry—”
“Do you think it might be important to report enemy activity to your superior officers?”
“I’ve been riding all day—”
“Come on, Alexios, you’re supposed to be a professional!”
“I thought I could just stop to get a bite—”
“You’re supposed to teach by example!”
You have lost favor with Strategos Herakleia, the voice said.
How much lower can I go?
Inside the palace courtyard, the Workers’ Army was sitting, lying down, eating, and resting with their husbands and children, but the mothers rose and saluted the moment they spotted Herakleia and Alexios. Many children did the same, which Alexios found remarkably cute. Despite his fatigue, he returned their salutes.
Qutalmish was guarding the palace entrance, and he saluted and then stepped aside so they could enter the stone halls within. These were cold and bare now without expensive torches, carpets, or tapestries. Still complaining about Alexios’s laziness and lack of foresight, Herakleia pulled him up the stairs and past the locked guest rooms—where Gabras and Bryennios were still shouting that they wanted to go home—to the doux’s chamber. There Bagrationi, Tamar, and Samonas were huddled over a map of Trebizond and the surrounding environs spread out on a table. Everyone turned to look at Alexios; he almost gasped at the sight of Tamar.
There she is!
“Good of you to join us,” Bagrationi said coldly.
Alexios bowed. “Uh—sorry, My Lord Doux. I would have come sooner, but I was—”
“Forget it.”
Samonas cleared his throat. “As I was saying, sir, we have only about a week and a half of provisions, assuming we switch to one meal per day for the entire populace—”
“The soldiers have got to eat,” the doux said.
“Anyone involved in the siege must eat,” Tamar said. “Even the children, if they’re helping protect the walls. We won’t have a chance if we’re all dying of hunger.”
“But My Lord Doux.” Samonas turned to Bagrationi. “That will reduce the time we can hold out by at least one or two days, which could make all the difference.”
Bagrationi frowned. “I’m not sure why you say that. No one is coming to help us.”
The doux turned to Alexios, who was standing by the table but looking so tired that he was about to collapse. He also reeked of sweat and horse, causing his charisma skill to suffer.
“We have two hundred mostly untrained and largely female soldiers,” Samonas continued. “A few dozen horses. One dozen cuirasses. About one hundred swords in various states of disrepair, not counting cooking knives—”
“Have you got anything to report, kentarch?” the doux said to Alexios.
Alexios looked up. “Me, sir?—uh, My Lord Doux? No, not really. The Roman army’s on the way, although it looks like Anna already told you.”
“You couldn’t ascertain the enemy’s strength?”
“I thought it best to return to the city as soon as possible, My Lord Doux.”
Bagrationi looked at Herakleia as if to say: this fool you call your friend.
“Very well.” The doux turned back to Alexios. “You ought to wash up and rest. Can you find your way to the bathhouse on your own?
Alexios nodded. He still treats me like I just got here. “Yes, My Lord Doux.”
“You’re relieved of duty until morning, kentarch.”
Bowing, Alexios left the chamber, glancing at Tamar but avoiding Herakleia’s gaze. Then, despite his exhaustion, he returned to the courtyard, crossing quickly to the bathhouse while keeping his head down, though he could feel his students watching. Once inside the bathhouse, he locked the door—reminded of how Anna had said that all the women wanted him. Then he pulled off his dirty clothes and rapidly soaped and scrubbed himself. The water was cool but refreshing due to the summer heat.
Dressing in a clean tunic left in one of the bathhouse’s wooden storage bins, he returned to the courtyard and asked the mothers if they had any food. They surrounded him, took his dirty clothes, carried his sword, helped him to a couch covered in blankets set beneath an awning at the courtyard’s edge, and brought bread and wine which they seemingly conjured from thin air. Anna was ordering everyone about and doing most of the work.
“Thank you,” Alexios said between bites of bread. “You’re all so amazing. I don’t deserve you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Nonsense,” Theophano said. “Just shut up and eat.” She cleared her throat. “Sir.”
This lack of discipline is going to get people killed, Alexios thought. But if a society is trying to destroy the social construct of socioeconomic class, the army defending it needs to reflect that. Instead of ordering a subordinate to do something, sometimes you first have to explain why he needs to do that something.
Alexios struggled to stay awake as he ate, and like a baby he almost fell asleep with the food in his mouth, the mothers nudging him so he didn’t choke. They watched him, peppered him with questions about the Romans—then told each other to let the poor boy eat, then started questioning him again—but he was so tired he could hardly answer. Children talked with him also, addressing him as “Uncle Alexios.” The whole time, Anna gazed at him perhaps more than she should have. The others whispered jokes in her ear; she blushed, told them to shut up, and even playfully smacked one.
Once Alexios had eaten his fill, he lay back on the couch. They wrapped him in warm blankets, and he lost consciousness as they were saying goodnight.