Chapter 61

Clearing the Field

Brian the Saxon had been praying to the mother of Jesus to save him when the stallion charging toward him spilled its rider and they landed in a clatter of metal, thrashing horse, and dust.

Brian was baptized into the faith and had prayed many times before, but never to have his prayers answered in such dramatic fashion right in front of his eyes. The tip of the lance had been aimed directly at him, but now the shaft was as broken as both horse and rider.

For a man who spent a large portion of his waking hours in churches, Brian was of middling devotion. It was his duty to accompany the Emperors as they went about their many religious observances. With pious Emperor Manuel, church attendance had been constant. Now with two Emperors, a rotating shift had been introduced to cover both Andronikos and Alexios. Emperor Andronikos avoided going - certainly to the Hagia Sophia, so most of the religious aspects of the role of Emperor were entrusted to the boy. When he returned to the capital, the next time he went to the church of Christ Pantocreator with Alexios he would bring with him a large candle of fine quality and place it directly before the icon of the Virgin Mary.

On the field before him the spearmen on their sturdy ponies, reined in, drew to a halt, turned, and trotted back the way they had come. From the city came two figures, one a teen carrying a white flag, the other, unmistakable after the retreating Turkopoles had passed and their dust settled, was Pons.

Brian walked forward to where the agonized whinnying stallion lay. With one overhead, two handed swing of his poleaxe he ended the beast's suffering - severing its spine - separating body from head. It lay as motionless as the armored rider.

“What happened? Did you lay out caltrops?” Pons called as he strode forward.

“Good afternoon and well met to you as well.” Brian looked at the knight on the ground. Both the man’s neck and the ostrich plume on his helmet were bent. “Caltrops? No. You must think someone here has a sense of organization and planning. Looks like the hoof broke through to a groundhog burrow and the leg snapped.”

“A gopher hole? Fuck. I had such high hopes for this one.”

“This was your Prince Renier’s friend, no?”

“Yes. Theodore Kantakuzenos. I think he was a great-grandson of Emperor John of blessed memory.”

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“The Holy Virgin saved me. He was charging straight at me. I was praying for her intervention and then… splat.”

“You can plant the flag in the ground here.” Pons indicated a spot to the adolescent who accompanied him. “Run back to town and have them send a cart to fetch this one home. His armor is worth a fortune and can be beaten back into shape. I want you to stick with the arms and the saddle as well, boy. Make sure no one filches them. Uncle Pons will make it worth your while.”

Pons shifted his gaze from the fallen rider to the tents on the hill to the rear. “Uh oh. Here comes the quality.” The tall form of the Emperor followed by his cluster of attendants began to make their stately descent. “I do not think that I have seen an assault carried out in such a fashion.”

“We have everything but tumbling dwarfs. The stars have to be correct, you see. The lettered tiles in his bubbly water basin have to come up favorably. This morning he produced the mother of the Algelos brothers. He must have had her apprehended a week ago and brought here. I had heard nothing about it. Shamed and placed on a battering ram. A domina of one of the greatest families. In all conscious? Such a thing is unimaginable. He is mad.”

“His madness has cunning behind it. This battlefield skirmish is being refought in the minds of the Angelos brothers again even now. Is that why you have camped here for so long? Waiting for this surprise?”

“Yes. I think he was planning for a more grandiose attack today, but you spoiled that. Thank you for waking me up in the middle of the night. That was you I am sure. I was able to watch all of the catapults and trebuchet burning. Your friend and his toy helped. I saw his little arrows in some of the bodies. It has a deadly range.”

“He was shooting at an ox - they are large and slow.” The large slow beast had bolted so far into the distance it was lost to view.

“But those three,” Brian motioned to two dead bodies on the field and one man down with a quarrel in his leg, “I am impressed. He should do trick shots between the races to entertain the crowd.”

“Our Hawk, General Lepardis will not be joining us. A week ago we received the news his wings were clipped and his eyes put out. With this one dead,” Pons made the sign of the cross over the young man’s corpse, “We are left with…”

“Alexios and Issacos” Brian supplied.

“Yes. ‘Sobs’ and ‘Tears,’ the Angelos brothers.” Pons sighed. “What were the exact words you spoke to the Holy Mother for her intervention? Alas, no time. Here they come.”

The Imperial retinue was drawing to within hearing distance. Pons smiled. Among them, clad in black, cloaked, and hooded, was the noseless skull-like face that owed him thirty silver byzants.

Pons bowed low, “Your Imperial Majesty, I come from the city of Nicea under a white flag of peaceful intent to seek your protection so that we may clear the field of the dead and wounded?”

“You have our Grace,” the Emperor consented.

“You will want ten, perhaps a dozen stretchers with bearers.” The attendants seemed confused as to who should organize such a thing.

Pons and Brian a exchanged sympathetic side glances. Crybabies on one side, mad men and incompetents on the other. What was a soldier to do?