The late afternoon sun bathed the citadel of Mystras in a golden hue, but inside the stone walls of Despot Theodore's council chamber, a chill pervaded the air. Paintings depicting Orthodox saints adorned the walls, their solemn gazes casting a judgmental eye over the gathered men.

At the head of a long oak table sat Despot Theodore, his fingers steepled under his chin, eyes narrowed in contemplation. Around him stood his closest confidants: Alexios, his shrewd advisor; Father Damianos and Father Grigorios, fervent anti-unionist priests; and Lord Demetrios, a loyal nobleman.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and a weary messenger entered, bowing deeply. "My Despot, our agents have returned from Glarentza. They bring urgent news."

"Send them in," Theodore commanded, his voice steady but laced with anticipation.

Two men stepped forward, their cloaks travel-worn and faces shadowed by fatigue. The first, Andreas, inclined his head respectfully. "Despot Theodore, we have much to report."

"Proceed," Theodore said curtly.

Andreas exchanged a glance with his companion before beginning. "Despot Constantine's endeavors have far exceeded our initial estimations. His production of Latin Bibles continues unabated, but more concerning is his imminent publication of a Greek Bible. He has even established a grand shop in Glarentza, selling these books openly. The populace seems receptive, even enthusiastic."

Father Damianos leaned forward, disbelief evident in his eyes. "A shop? Selling Latin bibles in plain sight?"

"Yes, Father," Andreas confirmed. "It's unlike anything we've seen. The store is large, well-frequented, and openly displays the Bibles for sale. Latin Traders flock to it. It's as if he's created a marketplace for heresy."

Father Grigorios shook his head. "The audacity... He's turning commerce into a tool for spreading his dangerous ideas."

"The populace welcomes this?" Theodore's voice edged with incredulity, his eyes narrowing as he searched Andreas's face for any hint of exaggeration.

"They flock to it, my despot," Andreas confirmed, his tone a careful blend of deference and urgency. "For many, the clink of coins drowns out the chime of church bells. Prosperity has a way of dulling the senses to spiritual peril."

Theodore's jaw tightened. "Gold has ever been a persuasive preacher," he muttered, more to himself than to those gathered. "It seems Constantine wields wealth as deftly as a sword."

Father Damianos frowned deeply. "Heresy spreads unchecked, then."

"There's more," Andreas continued, his tone growing graver. "Constantine is amassing a professional army. He's recruiting troops, training them rigorously, and equipping them with long pikes. He's also commissioning multiple cannons—more than we initially thought based on earlier reports. While we were in Glarentza, we even heard the thunderous sounds of their tests echoing across the harbor."

A palpable tension gripped the room. Theodore's eyes darkened. "An army? Cannons? To what end?"

Andreas exchanged a wary glance with his companion, Marcus. "He claims it's for the defense of the Hexamilion Wall against the Ottomans, but with the scale of his preparations, some suspect he has broader ambitions."

Alexios leaned forward. "He's making a fortune from the sale of these Bibles, is he not?"

"Yes," Andreas confirmed. "The Latin Bibles have been extremely profitable. He's leveraging that wealth to fund his military expansions."

Theodore's jaw tightened. "He's consolidating power—wealth, military might, influence over the people through these so-called 'printed bibles'"

Andreas interjected, "Our network of supporters in Glarentza is weakening. Many have been swayed by the prosperity Constantine promises. The common folk care little about the nuances of theology when their bellies are full."

"Moreover," Marcus added, "Constantine has tightened security around his workshops after the failed sabotage attempt. Our operatives find it increasingly difficult to gather intelligence, let alone act."

Theodore rose from his seat, pacing the length of the chamber. "And the local clergy? Are there none who speak out against this corruption?"

"Some do," Andreas acknowledged. "A few anti-unionist bishops and monasteries have publicly denounced the Latin Bibles and the impending Greek publication. They've given sermons warning of the dangers. But their voices are drowned out by the local bishop in Glarentza—clearly under Constantine's patronage—who preaches in favor of unification. He's even begun delivering sermons extolling the virtues of the new texts."

Marcus added, "Despot, we also have word that Master Plethon is arranging to move permanently to Glarentza, ostensibly to prepare for the Emperor's visit. His influence will only bolster Constantine's position."

Theodore stopped pacing, his expression a mixture of anger and concern. "Plethon is a dangerous man—his radical ideas threaten the very foundations of our society. With him at Constantine's side, their capacity to sway both the Emperor and the people grows exponentially. "To think that I had him as an advisor"

A heavy silence enveloped the chamber as Theodore returned to his seat. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin, eyes narrowing as his thoughts turned inward. The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound, its flames casting flickering shadows that danced across his brooding expression.

"Despot," Alexios ventured cautiously, "we must consider the possibility that Constantine's military buildup is not solely for defense against the Ottomans."

Father Grigorios leaned in. "You fear he may turn his army against us?"

"It's a distinct possibility," Theodore admitted. "He has sent a letter requesting our aid in jointly defending the Hexamilion Wall. But perhaps it's a ploy to draw our forces away from Mystras, leaving us vulnerable."

Lord Demetrios spoke for the first time. "What do you propose, my lord? We cannot ignore the Ottoman threat, but neither can we leave ourselves exposed."

Theodore's eyes hardened. "We find ourselves on treacherous ground," Theodore mused, his gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. "Bolster our defenses within Mystras. Summon loyal forces from the provinces, but do so quietly. If Constantine moves against us, let him discover a fortress, not a target."

Alexios nodded. "And what of the Emperor? Should we inform him of Constantine's activities? Perhaps he does not realize the extent of his brother's ambitions."

Theodore sighed heavily. "The Emperor and Constantine have always been close. Any warning we send may fall on deaf ears or be seen as jealousy on my part."

"Perhaps," Father Damianos ventured, choosing his words carefully, "if we present our worries as devotion to the empire's well-being, emphasizing the perils of allowing unprecedented power to coalesce under a single banner..."

Theodore's eyes narrowed. "You suggest appealing to the Emperor's sense of duty over fraternity. A delicate path."

The chamber grew quiet once more. Theodore's mind churned with possibilities, each more troubling than the last.

"Despot," Father Grigorios began hesitantly, his fingers nervously twisting the beads of his komboskini, "if I may speak freely?"

Theodore's gaze settled on the priest, a flicker of curiosity crossing his stern features. "Go on," he allowed.

Grigorios glanced around the dimly lit chamber, the shadows casting long, ominous shapes on the walls. "There is... another course of action we might consider," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "A more direct solution to the problem of Constantine.

All eyes turned to Grigorios. Theodore's gaze sharpened. "You speak of assassination."

Father Grigorios bowed his head slightly. "Regrettably, yes. If Constantine were removed, his ambitious projects would likely falter. The people might then see the folly of his ways."

A murmur rippled through the room. Father Damianos shifted uncomfortably. "Such a path is fraught with peril. The moral implications alone..."

Theodore held up a hand to silence him. "I am well aware of the gravity of such an act. But we must weigh the potential consequences of inaction against those of decisive measures."

Alexios leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper as the chamber seemed to close in around them. "Such an act requires utmost precision. A single misstep, and the consequences would be... irreparable."

He glanced toward the heavy doors, ensuring they remained sealed against prying ears. The weight of his words hung in the air, each syllable measured.

Lord Demetrios added, "And with the heightened security in Glarentza, it's a formidable task."

Theodore rubbed his temples. "I am not yet convinced that we should take such a step. But we must consider all options."

He turned to Alexios. "Begin discreet inquiries. See if there are any within Constantine's circle who might be swayed or any vulnerabilities we can exploit."

Alexios nodded solemnly. "As you command."

Reflections in Glarentza

The soft breeze from the hills of Elis drifted through the open windows of Constantine's private study in Clermont Castle, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and olive groves.

Outside, the rugged landscape of the Morea stretched out beneath the fading sunlight. In the distance, the mountains rose like silent sentinels, guarding the land that Constantine now sought to unify under his vision of a stronger empire.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

His eyes shifted toward the lands stretching between Clermont Castle and Glarentza, where the foundations of his plans were slowly but steadily taking shape. Not far from the castle, he could make out the construction of the new barracks, their wooden walls rising to house the professional soldiers he was gathering. Closer still, the arsenal was being expanded, prepared to produce more cannons and weapons that would defend his realm. Further down the road, toward Glarentza, stood the printing press warehouse—like a silent beacon of progress—where hundreds of Latin Bibles had already been produced and where soon, the Greek Bibles would roll off the presses, tools of both knowledge and power.

The sight filled Constantine with a deep sense of satisfaction. His vision for the empire was becoming reality brick by brick. It wasn't just the barracks or the weapons that gave him confidence—it was the slow, steady rise of something far more significant. These were the cornerstones of a new order, one built on knowledge, and strength.

Inside the room, maps adorned the walls alongside sketches of innovative machinery and notes on military formations.

Reflecting on Plethon's recent visit, Constantine felt invigorated. The philosopher's ideas about revitalizing society through ancient Hellenic wisdom had ignited a spark within him. It's like witnessing the dawn of the Renaissance firsthand, he thought with a mix of awe and excitement. Plethon's encouragement validated not only his aspirations to transform the empire but also his secret hope to alter the course of history itself.

Plethon's support for his military innovations further bolstered his confidence.

He pondered Plethon's idea of a centralized government under a strong monarch. While he respected his brother Emperor John VIII, he wondered if John possessed the vision and resolve necessary for such transformative leadership.

Perhaps when he arrives next year, we can align our ambitions, Constantine considered. Together, we could usher in a new era for the empire.

Later that day, Constantine convened a meeting with his closest advisors in the council chamber. The council meetings had become more frequent over the past months, reflecting the growing urgency of Constantine's plans and the changing political landscape. Seated around the large wooden table were George Sphrantzes, his trusted confidant; Theophilus Dragas; and Petros, the steward.

"Thank you all for coming," Constantine began. "We have much to discuss."

George leaned forward. "We are eager to hear your thoughts, Despot."

Constantine's gaze shifted toward Theophilus. "What is the status of the Greek Bible? How soon can we begin distribution?"

Theophilus nodded, his tone respectful. "The first copies are nearly complete, my lord. Within the month, we should have one hundred ready for distribution. The presses have been working tirelessly, and the quality is excellent."

A note of fulfillment touched Constantine's voice as he continued. "Good. Fifty of those first hundred copies will be given as gifts to local priests and monasteries. We need to ensure that they are the first to receive them so they can see our commitment to Orthodoxy and begin spreading the message among the people."

"A wonderful gesture," Theophilus commented, clearly pleased. "This will certainly help solidify our position among the clergy and ensure the people see that we are preserving our traditions."

Constantine nodded, a calculated smile touching his lips. "Indeed. The Greek Bible will silence many doubts."

This should help quell the naysayers, Constantine thought. Funny how access to the scriptures can shift power dynamics. If only they knew the revolutions that literacy sparked in my time.

"By equipping the clergy with these texts, we reinforce our commitment to our faith," he continued aloud, masking his modern ambitions behind pious intentions.

"The anti-unionist priests will no longer have the excuse of the Latin bibles—they will see that we are not abandoning the faith, but strengthening it."

"We should also consider contacting these bishops directly—opening a dialogue and addressing their concerns," Theophilus replied.

"An excellent idea," George affirmed. "Showing a willingness to engage may win over some of them.

Theophilus's expression darkened slightly. "However, we've received reports that some bishops and monasteries in the Morea are already declaring the Latin Bibles heretical. They preach against our efforts, rousing the people against the union."

Petros frowned. "There's no doubt, Despot. This is the work of Despot Theodore. His opposition to the unification is not just well-known—he's actively fueling this dissent."

"Agreed," George added firmly. "He's deliberately encouraging the clergy and monasteries to rise against you, hoping to undermine your initiatives and stall your progress. And let's not forget the monk who tried to sabotage the printing presses. It's almost certain he was aided by Theodore's agents."

Constantine sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Theodore…it's clear that his hand is behind every move against us. The monk's attempt to disable the presses was likely part of his broader plot to disrupt our work. But we must be cautious. Theodore is a threat, yes, but we will wait for the emperor's arrival next year. John is not pleased by Theodore's anti-union stance, and we will address it internally then."

He paused, his expression hardening. "For now, we must focus on strengthening our army and defenses. The Otttomans are looming on our borders, and we cannot afford to divide our attention with internal strife. Theodore's schemes are dangerous, but it will not matter if we are strong when the emperor arrives. We must secure our position here first."

Constantine's gaze sharpened as he continued, "And once our army is ready, we will be in a position to explore other solutions, should they become necessary."

"On another matter," Constantine continued, "I've received news from my brother Thomas."

He unfolded a letter and read aloud: "Thomas has besieged Centurione in Chalandritsa. The Baron resisted but eventually surrendered. Thomas secured a treaty in which Centurione's daughter, Catherine, will marry him, making Thomas the heir to Achaea. Centurione retains a castle in Arcadia."

A murmur of approval went around the table.

"This is significant," Theophilus said. "With Achaea under firm imperial control, we've eliminated the last Latin stronghold in the Morea, aside from the Venetian ports."

"Thomas also reports that he will be able to send reinforcements to the Hexamilion early next year," Constantine added.

"Excellent news," George commented. "Additional forces will strengthen our defenses considerably."

"Good," Constantine said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "We must be ready for any threat, especially with the Ottomans eyeing our territories."

He glanced around the room before continuing, "I want to address our general economic situation. Thanks to the Bible sales, the treasury is in good shape, but we need to diversify our income. With Glarentza's population growing, the demand for food is increasing faster than we'd planned. I propose we invest in more grain mills and ensure our agriculture keeps up with the city's needs."

Petros nodded thoughtfully, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "A wise strategy, Despot. Expanding the mills will not only secure our food supply but also boost the local economy."

"Exactly," Constantine agreed, leaning forward. "But we shouldn't stop there. We need fresh ideas. I suggest we send agents to observe innovations in Western kingdoms—be it in agriculture or infrastructure. If there are techniques to improve our yields or efficiency, we should adopt them. Encouraging artisans and improving trade routes will help, but ensuring food security is paramount."

Petros smiled slightly, clearly impressed. "It would strengthen the economy and earn goodwill among the people."

Constantine met his gaze. "A prosperous and well-fed populace is a loyal one. We have to stay ahead—not just in military might, but in sustaining our people."

That evening, cloaked in the quiet solitude of his study, Constantine sat at the ornate wooden desk, parchment unfurled before him. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated his determined expression. Dipping the quill into the inkwell he began to write. Dear Brother Thomas, he penned, each letter a deliberate stroke. Strange how writing a simple letter can feel like navigating a minefield without autocorrect, he thought wryly.

Dear Brother Thomas,

I received your message with great joy. Your success in securing Achaea strengthens our position immeasurably. I congratulate you on your upcoming marriage to Catherine and the unification of our territories.

Your offer to send reinforcements to the Hexamilion Wall is most welcome. Together, we can fortify our defenses and present a united front against any who would threaten us.

I look forward to your wedding. There is much we can accomplish together. Our combined efforts can usher in a new era of strength and prosperity for the Morea and the empire.

Your brother,

Constantine

He sealed the letter with his signet ring and summoned a courier to deliver it promptly.