The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 182 Dolium

Chapter 182 Dolium (Part 1)

Branas stood still, watching the departing figures of the two children, his mockery slowly fading, replaced by his usual coldness.

His adjutant stepped forward in a low voice: "Commander-in-Chief, is this treatment of the Crown Prince of Jerusalem too much? Marshal Kantostefanos and His Majesty might have some complaints."

Branas snorted and cast the light eastward, towards Dolium and the wider Anatolia.

"Neglect?" he murmured, as if asking his adjutant, or perhaps himself. "An emperor protected by his ancestors and powerful ministers, a commander who only knows how to deploy troops in the court and on paper—what do they know? Is Rome's territory held by etiquette and criticism?"

His eyes deepened, as if burning with an almost obsessive flame.

"The Empire is sick, terminally ill. What it needs is drastic medicine, an iron fist, and a strong leader who can lead the legions to raise the eagle's banner once more, not children and bureaucrats playing power games in Constantinople!"

He spoke in a low voice, clearly not just to his adjutant: "Latins? Crusaders? They're even less trustworthy than the Turks! They claim to be conquering in the name of God, but all they care about is land and wealth! Emperor Manuel was far too lenient with them!"

He looked at the eastern sky, then suddenly turned to his adjutant and asked, "Have our infantry corps assembled yet?"

The adjutant replied, "I have made preparations in advance. Judging by the time, they should have already set off from the Nicaea camp and are marching here at full speed."

"Tell them there's no need for a hasty march; we have plenty of time." Branas pointed his whip in the direction of Dolium. "Now, issue my order: all cavalry, follow me to reinforce Dolium!"

The night wind on the Anatolian plateau carried a chill as it swept across the banners of the Sultanate of Rum.

Inside the central royal tent, Rum Sultan Kilij Arslan II was listening to Mahmud and Kehosru's detailed report, from encountering the Jerusalem chariot formation to the thwarted probing attack, and then to the sudden appearance and thunderous strike of the Brahnas cavalry.

"—So, that Frankish wagon formation was a carefully laid trap. And Branas had been hiding in the western woods, waiting until our men were lured to the breach and their formation was thrown into disarray before launching the attack," Mahmoud concluded, his voice filled with resentment and lingering fear.

"He fooled us all, including that expeditionary force in Jerusalem!" Kehoslu added, his face still contorted with resentment. "Such methods—are utterly despicable!"

"Despicable?" Arslan II smiled slightly. "No, my son. In war, there is only effectiveness and ineffectiveness. Branas—he chose the most effective way to preserve his own strength. Let us and the Franks wear him down first, and then he will reap the rewards."

He squinted slightly, as if looking through the tent into the distant past: "Alexei Branas—wild—"

"The Pig." I'd heard of him long ago, back when he was a fierce and energetic general under Emperor Manuel. Andronica wasn't without reason in kicking him aside. "That wild boar," with its sharp tusks and enormous appetite, was difficult to control.

Mahmoud seemed to understand: "Father, you mean, his current situation—"

"He knows his situation very well." Arslan II interrupted his son, a cold smile playing on his lips. "An old general who has been distrusted and sidelined for years, only to be reinstated because of the dire situation. He needs victories to prove he's still got it, he needs military achievements to regain, or more accurately, to reclaim his prestige and influence in the army. But what he needs even more is—to keep fighting."

The Sultan rose, walked to the hanging map of Anatolia, and pointed to Dolium. "That young emperor in Constantinople and his regents use him while simultaneously guarding against him. Once the threat on the eastern front is eliminated, this wild boar, temporarily released from its cage," at best, will be stripped of his military command again and sent back to his estate to retire. A worse outcome—do you think a cautious man like Cantorstefanos would allow a potential threat, deeply entrenched in the army and having just achieved great merit, to remain unscathed?

Kehoslu suddenly realized: "So, he can't really defeat us completely? In fact—he needs our existence?"

"It's not that they need us, it's that they need the threat on the Eastern Front to persist," Arslan II corrected, his eyes deep. "He has to walk a tightrope between victory and continued tension. He needs victories enough to silence the doubters in Constantinople, but also to make the situation appear far from secure. That way, he can maintain control of the army, remain in control, and even—accumulate more capital."

Mahmoud took a deep breath: "Then we—"

"Us?" Arslan II turned around. "We've been besieging Dolium for almost a month. This fortress has been a thorn in our side for far too long. Emperor Manuel would rather fight again than give it up. Now, it's time to take it down."

The two sons perked up.

"However," the Sultan's tone shifted, becoming unusually calm, "there are many ways to remove this thorn. We can pay a heavy price, launch a strong attack, and then face the inevitable arrival of the main force of Branas, as well as possible imperial reinforcements drawn from other fronts, in a costly decisive battle beneath the fortress. Or—"

He paused, a shrewd calculation flashing in his eyes: "We can cooperate with this 'wild boar' general's script."

"Cooperate?" Kehoslu asked, puzzled.

"Accelerate the attack and take Dolium," Arslan II said confidently. "But once inside, we will not engage in pointless slaughter and utter destruction. We will damage it, but we must exercise restraint. We will only burn the granaries and some of the barracks, demolish or damage the outer towers, the wall emplacements, the ballistae and catapult bases, and fill in several sections of the moat. This will temporarily render the fortress largely ineffective in offense and some in defense, but the core structure, inner walls, water supply, and main residential areas will remain largely intact. This will ensure that it requires a long and costly period of repair and long-term garrisoning to restore it to its former glory."

Mahmoud immediately understood his father's intention: "In this way, the value of the fortress is greatly reduced. Although our westward route cannot be said to be perfectly opened, the obstacles have been greatly reduced. Moreover, we did not massacre the city, so we will not incite extreme hatred among the garrison and the surrounding areas—"