novelSusiti Chapter 170 Heading to Indonesia
Chapter 170 Heading to Indonesia
Chapter 170 Heading to Indonesia (Part 1)
Early July, 1183 (Julian calendar), Bosphorus Strait.
Fifteen ships cut through the calm, shimmering surface of the summer sea, with the "Jack Raven" as the leading ship, and slowly sailed into Golden Horn Bay.
Lyon stood at the bow of the ship and saw Constantinople again after a long absence.
However, the grand welcoming ceremony that had been envisioned did not take place.
There were no cheering crowds, no carpets, and no royal procession on the dock; only a group of imperial soldiers in purple-red trimmed uniforms, surrounding Marshal Cantostefanos.
He was clad in fine scale armor and covered by a dark blue cloak, his lips pressed tightly together as he gazed at the fleet approaching the shore.
"Looks like our friend's been incredibly busy," Henry chuckled, shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed out. "He's even skipping the pretense."
Lyon understood.
The Roman Empire's plea for help was no mere formality; the scene before them was the most direct proof.
The fleet slowly approached the shore, and the planks were lowered.
Lyon straightened his armor and went ashore with Henry.
Cantorstafanos stepped forward and spoke rapidly in fluent Latin: "In the name of His Majesty Basilius Alexius, I welcome you, Prince Lyon of Jerusalem. It has been a long time since Basilius and Elena's wedding. Please forgive the simplicity of the welcome; the matter is urgent and cannot be delayed. His Majesty told me that your relationship is very close and that you will not care about such formalities."
"Your Excellency Marshal, please speak freely." Lyon nodded, dismissing the others and leaving only Henry by his side.
Cantorstefanos did not recognize Henry and curiously sized up the excessively young knight.
He quickly stopped speculating about the knight in front of him; the man's identity was irrelevant, he already had enough mess to deal with.
Without any formalities, he gestured and led the two to a relatively quiet outpost next to the dock.
A huge map of the Balkans and Asia Minor was spread out inside the outpost.
Cantorstefanos pressed his finger heavily on the center of the empire's map.
"Your Highness, as we stated in our letter, the Empire is being threatened by five swords. To the west, William II of Sicily and that blind old man of Venice are eyeing us covetously. To the north, King Bélo of Hungary has amassed 30,000 troops on the banks of the Danube. To the east, Seljuk Turkic light cavalry roam the Anatolian Plateau. Inland, Grand Prince Stefan Nemanja of Laszka, with Hungarian support, has just conquered Nestorus and is seeking independence. To the northeast and southeast, Trabzon and Cyprus are also stirring with ambition."
His finger first moved to the central Balkans: "Let's start with the most complicated Serbia. Stefan Niemanja is a cunning wolf. He wants independence, but he doesn't dare to actually become independent. Because once he completely breaks away from the empire, he will lose his shield and have to face Hungary's greed for the Balkan heartland alone. So now he is expelling our officials while desperately trying to curry favor with and mediate with Hungary, attempting to play both sides between the empire and Hungary, waiting for the best offer. He is a weather vane, and also like wet firewood."
"But precisely because of this, he has temporarily become an obstacle for the Hungarians' southward advance." Kantostefanos's finger traced the long border between Hungary and the Empire. "Bello has an army of 30,000, a formidable force. But if he wants to penetrate deep into the Empire, he only has two paths: either launch a direct assault on the Sylmiian Military District—"
He pointed to an area where the Danube and Sava rivers meet: "This area is surrounded by water on three sides and has numerous fortresses. If the Hungarians want to break through here, the price will be extremely high."
"Or," he pointed southwest, through the mountains symbolizing Serbia, "we could go through Serbia and launch a surprise attack on the Nestos fortress. But this route is treacherous, supplies are scarce, and we're at the mercy of the Serbs. Although Stefan Niemanja has just gained Hungarian support and captured the Nestos fortress, would he easily allow the Hungarian army to cross the border? They'd likely spend some time negotiating. So, while the northern front is under immense pressure, a stalemate has formed for the time being."
At this point, Cantostefanos took a deep breath and abruptly moved his finger to the right half of the map—Anatolia.
"The most deadly and imminent threat is in the east. The Seljuk Turks are gathering. Their target is likely the grain-producing regions around Nicaea, or the passage to the straits. Once the defenses of Nicaea are breached, the empire will lose its most important source of manpower and granaries, and Constantinople will become an isolated island."
Lyon stared at the map; the empire's territory appeared so cramped under the pressure from all sides.
"I must remain in Constantinople to coordinate the five fronts, especially dealing with the potential maritime threats from Venice and Sicily, and cannot go to the Eastern Front in person." Cantostefanos looked at Lyon, his gaze sharp. "Therefore, the Empire needs you and your army to go to Nicaea immediately to support the commander on the Eastern Front in fighting the Turks."
"Who is the commander on the Eastern Front?" Henry interjected.
A complex expression flashed across Cantostefanos's face.
"Alexei Branas," he said slowly, "born in 1115 AD, he's more senior than I am. His character is just like his nickname, 'The Boar'—brave, tough, and hot-tempered, he's highly respected among the military nobility of Anatolia."
Lyon's heart skipped a beat: Alexei Branagh, the anti-war pioneer in history?
He was the last great general of the Komnen dynasty, with many military achievements. He was appointed by Isaac II as the commander to suppress the Bulgarian rebellion, but eventually he raised his own army and rebelled against Isaac II.
Cantorstefanos's concerns were not unfounded.
"When Andronica rebelled, fearing his prestige, we dismissed him from office," Cantostefanos continued. "Since His Majesty ascended the throne, for the sake of political stability, I have also dared not reinstate him. But now, the Empire needs the tusks of this 'wild boar' to fend off the Turks. We have no other choice."
He looked directly into Lyon's eyes and said frankly, "Your Highness, this is the Empire's second, and more important, request of you."
Please lead your elite troops to join Branas's legion; this is both an aid and a check on him. Your position is special—you are both an ally and a relative by marriage to the royal family. Your presence is the eye of His Majesty and Constantinople. We need you to monitor Branas and prevent him from harboring any improper thoughts after gaining military power.
Silence pervaded the outpost.
Lyon and Henry exchanged a glance, and Henry nodded slightly.
"Very well, as you wish, Marshal," Lyon finally spoke, agreeing. "Jerusalem will fight alongside the Empire against the Turks. My fleet will remain in the Golden Horn, and I will personally lead my army to Nicaea immediately."
Cantorstefanos breathed a sigh of relief, a hint of relaxation appearing on his stern face for the first time: "Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness. The Empire will remember this kindness. The road to Nicaea and initial supplies have been arranged. May God bless you."
Lyon's orders were quickly relayed.
Zahir and his sailors will remain in Golden Horn with 15 ships, including the Jackdaw, and will be at the command of Cantostefanos if necessary.
Lyon, along with Henry, led 1100 Marines in preparation for deployment to Nicaea.