novelSusiti Chapter 188 Isaac Angelos
Chapter 188 Isaac Angelos
Chapter 188 Isaac Angelos (Part 3)
Henry was somewhat surprised and looked at Lyon.
Lyon nodded slightly. He also wanted to see the true worth of this historical figure.
The open space on one side of the banquet hall was quickly cleared.
The two men removed their coats and swords, and stood facing each other, using unsharpened training swords.
Isaac changed into a tight-fitting short outfit that allowed him to move around easily. He stood tall and his sword-wielding posture was standard and steady. Henry could tell at a glance that he was indeed skilled.
"Please." Isaac bowed, sword in hand.
"Please." Henry returned the greeting.
As a guest, Henry dared not overstep his bounds; he remained modest and did not exert himself fully, mainly to test the waters.
But soon, he was surprised to find that although Isaac's swordsmanship was not particularly superb, some of his moves were quite exquisite.
"Excellent swordsmanship!" Henry couldn't help but praise in a low voice, his initial contempt vanishing as he began to take the fight seriously.
Seeing that Henry was no longer holding back, after exchanging a few blows with him, Isaac wisely took a step back, gracefully lowering the tip of his sword. His face showed no sign of defeat, but rather a hearty smile: "Brilliant! Lord Henry is indeed worthy of his reputation. There's no need to continue fighting. I concede defeat, and I'm completely convinced. Your martial arts have been honed through countless trials on the real battlefield. My skills, honed in seclusion, are truly inferior."
Henry sheathed his sword and laughed, "Your Excellency is too modest. Your swordsmanship is quite accomplished, and many of your moves have broadened my horizons. Especially those thrusting techniques, with their tricky angles, are impossible to defend against. If I hadn't been fortunate enough to have seen some unorthodox fighting methods, I would probably have been defeated long ago."
Isaac waved his hand, signaling his servants to take the weapons away.
He walked back to his seat, took a big gulp of wine, and seemed to change his tone somewhat under the influence of the alcohol.
He looked at Henry with a complicated expression.
"If Your Excellency Henry doesn't mind," Isaac suddenly said, "I'd be happy to teach you those few moves."
Even Lyon was surprised by these words.
Isaac seemed to sense their confusion, and smiled, a smile tinged with even more bitterness: "To me, these sword techniques are nothing more than a memento left by my father. He taught them to me so I could use them for self-defense, and perhaps he also hoped I could use them to achieve great things. But now it seems—"
He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile: "I probably won't have many opportunities to personally go into battle and use these skills to kill the enemy. They'll just stay here with me, slowly rusting and being forgotten among official documents. But you, Henry, are a true warrior. Your sword is wielded to protect your lord and to uphold the code of chivalry. These skills are far more valuable in your hands than they are in mine, and they better fulfill the meaning they were created for."
"Oh, this—"
Lyon and Henry both fell silent.
Lyon took the opportunity to give Henry a quick wink.
Henry understood immediately. He picked up his glass, went to Isaac, filled it for him, and then raised his own glass, carefully asking, "Your Excellency, please forgive my intrusion. Since we met, I've sensed that you seem troubled. During the banquet earlier, Your Highness and I also noticed this. You hold an important position, are deeply trusted by the Governor, and possess such superb martial arts skills—why are you so disheartened, even feeling that your skills are useless? And why would you so readily bestow such precious family sword techniques upon us two strangers meeting for the first time?"
Isaac held his wine glass and remained silent for a long time.
“My martial arts skills—were indeed taught by my father.” Isaac’s voice lowered as he recalled, “My father, Andronicus Angelos, was a general of the Empire in Asia Minor, renowned for his military exploits. Due to family ties and his official position, he frequently needed to liaise with the Kingdom of Jerusalem to coordinate Crusader crossings or joint operations. Therefore, he always held a natural goodwill and understanding towards you Latins—at least towards the people of Jerusalem. This feeling may have influenced me as well.”
He paused, then continued, "Father—he went through a lot. In the early years of Empress Dowager Maria's regency, he, like Grand Marshal Cantostefanos, was a staunch royalist, dedicated to stabilizing the situation and resisting—the ambitions of that old fox, Andronica. However, militarily, he could not withstand Andronica's superior forces, and reluctantly, for the sake of his soldiers' lives, he chose to surrender conditionally. This became the biggest regret of his life. As for Grand Marshal Cantostefanos, he chose to remain silent at the time, acquiescing to Andronica's temporary rule—I know this has nothing to do with right or wrong, but simply a helpless choice under the circumstances."
Isaac sighed, "Later, Andronica grew increasingly suspicious of his veteran generals. He was especially wary of Branas's prestige in the army. In order to remove Branas from his sensitive position on the Eastern Front, he made an absurd decision: under the guise of an edict from Basilius, he ordered my elderly and ailing father, who was no longer fit for long journeys, to leave his relatively comfortable post in Constantinople and go to Asia Minor to replace Branas!"
"My father knew that this was a case of using someone else to kill, an exile, and a humiliation, but because he could not disobey the emperor's orders, he had no choice but to set off despite his illness—and as a result, he died on his way to his post before he even reached the halfway point."
Isaac downed his drink in one gulp and said coldly, "Before he died, he told me that being a general in this seemingly powerful and vast empire was like a lone boat in a storm. You never know where the next wave will come from. You might dodge the enemy's open attacks, but you can hardly guard against the arrows from behind. He tried his best to avoid the political vortex his whole life, wanting only to be a pure soldier, but every time, he was swept up in it, unable to control his own destiny. In the end, he didn't die on the battlefield defending the territory, but like a useless chess piece, he was casually discarded by the player, withering away silently—"
He raised his head, tears welling in his eyes: "I often think, if it weren't for the Andronica tragedy, if the Empire had less internal strife and more meritocratic governance—with my father's talent, experience, and loyalty to the Empire, perhaps it would be him sitting in the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Eastern Front right now, not a madman like Branas. He might have been regarded as a pillar supporting the Empire, revered as a savior, just like Grand Marshal Cantostefanos," instead of—an unknown, forgotten loser who died far from home.
The banquet hall fell silent.
As foreign Latins, any comments or words of comfort from Lyon and Henry at this moment seemed pale and powerless, and might even backfire.
The best approach is to listen and then respond with silent respect.
After a long silence, Lyon finally spoke, his voice filled with sympathy: "Your Excellency, I deeply regret what happened to your father. Although I never had the privilege of meeting him, when I was in Constantinople, Grand Marshal Cantorstafanos mentioned General Andronicos Angelos to me, his words filled with sorrow and respect. The Grand Marshal said that the Empire had lost a loyal and experienced ally."
Although Cantostefanos never mentioned Andrnicos to him, a white lie is always better.
Isaac's body trembled slightly. He looked at Lyon, blinked hard as if trying to force back the emotions surging within him, and then forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace.
"Look at me—I've really lost my composure." He took a deep breath, picked up the wine jug again, poured wine for Lyon and Henry, and filled his own cup as well. "With such distinguished guests, this should be a time for celebration, yet I've been rambling on about these old stories, spoiling your enjoyment. I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have! Let's—let's not talk about these things anymore! Let's drink, and may God bless Jerusalem, and may the glory of the Roman Empire endure forever!"