***
Arzealous had inspected the walls before returning to his private chamber and after bathing he dressed for war, and then stepped out onto the terrace to look out over the city. Mighty indeed was the responsibility of Emperors and Kings. The decisions they made, affected generations to come. The loss of one skirmish, one battle, or one war and the future and past were both affected. And why, what was history to mortal beings but interpretation, rather than fact? When recorded, history was nothing more than a bauble to be toyed with. Unless of course you were the Angelos, fantasies after all, had no place in the maintaining of the Equilibrium.
Arzealous wondered at what he knew of the Byzantine Empire. The problem with his thinking on such a thing, was that the time line he followed, was the one true path, and everything that happened from his arrival onwards, had not happened yet, and therefore remained unknown, as he always lived in the now, whether that was a future now, or a historical one. It was not so much a paradox as an equinox. The Angelos moved in a space, where changes could occur that did not so much affect the time line as direct it. And it was this that most concerned him.
The Empire could fall, and all that would mean was that it had had its time, at that time. Above all the Djinn also were aware of this, they had been taught it from the Angelos, and it was a lesson well learnt. So they were unconcerned what affect their current situation had. They were after a greater prize, than what they considered to be the trifling affairs of a small backward planet. They were after what they called a Mega Codex, which they knew could have a significant effect on the turning of the Universe, which to them, was of more import than a minor conflict over two belief systems, which on closer scrutiny had more in common, than not. And the Djinn understood that any alteration that might occur to such a primitive planet as Terra Azure would be righted in a millennia or two anyway.
There was a sudden knock, Arzealous moved from the terrace to open the door. It was the Emperor and at his side was the Patriarch.
“May we come in a moment?”
“Of course, I can see by the looks on your faces that something troubles you both.”
They entered the room and seated themselves by the cold hearth. Arzealous also pulled up a chair and waited for them speak.
“It’s like this, I have a foreboding over the coming events,” said the Patriarch scratching his head.
“Don’t we all,” replied Arzealous.
“There is more at stake here than any realise,” he continued.
“I think you’ll find, that I realise, what’s at stake, more than most.”
“The Emperor is concerned that perhaps we have not done enough to safeguard the Empire. Rome has not felt a threat like this since the Huns, and Attila.”
Arzealous looked from the Patriarch to the Emperor, “Although I cannot guarantee victory, I can guarantee a strong defence. And dilute your worries with these thoughts. The Persians were once a great threat, now they are no more. The Carthaginians were also a threat, they are no more. Many of the Northern Tribes of Germania were a threat, and they are no more. In fact our history is replete with threats of a dire nature that were all overcome: now maybe one day we will succumb to an enemy, but I do not feel that day has come.”
The Emperor rose and began to pace in front of the hearth, “Every enemy we’ve faced before was more natural than supernatural. This one is different, more terrible, and the consequences of defeat, more awful to contemplate than ever before.”
“We think that, but was not Attila known as the Scourge of God and he seemed very unnatural indeed, and who knows what effect our defeat would have, and it is better not to think of such things. When our hour comes, we will succeed, and the Empire will then move forward into a brighter future.”
The Emperor for the first time in a long while smiled, “See Patriarch, I told you if anyone can lift our spirits, Arzealous can.”
“And God of course,” replied the Patriarch.
“Off course,” said the Emperor.
“Well, if there’s nothing more, I had better see to the disposition and fitting out of the ships.”
“There’s nothing more. I shall accompany you: I too would like to see how we fare in that direction.”
“With your permission I would like to stay here a while, it is a quieter place to think in than my chambers are at this time.”
“Of course Patriarch make yourself at home.”
The two left the apartment and made their way toward the harbour area. On their approach they could hear the hammering, tapping, and shouting of frenzied labour. Smoke rose from a line of smithies, as bellows pumped air into furnaces for the manufacture of arms.
Callinicus was already there directing the use of one of the Fire throwers. It looked in shape like a snake with a fat underbelly; behind which was a pump that would be manned by two men, once they set to work the machine would consume the enemy with a fiery liquid.
“How goes it,” cried Arzealous above the din.
“It goes,” replied Callinicus.
“Does the formula work?” asked the Emperor.
“It appears so,” said Callinicus.
“Really,” replied Arzealous. “I thought there were one or two ingredients missing that could not be procured locally so to speak, and also that the chambers were not adequate enough.”
“The formula we retrieved from the Rageon did help, though I am still unsure of the substance, as it's alien to anything that's ever been used before in Byzantium,” said Callinicus.
“Well, that’s the type of reassurance I could do without. So just tell me are you ready.”
“As we’ll ever be, and let's just hope they don’t blow up in our faces, and set fire to our ships.”
“At least it's nice to know you have every confidence in them,” replied Arzealous.
“There might be a problem.”
“I thought we'd covered that part. Go on lets have it.”
“As I've implied the devices are still a little unstable. We’ve already lost a few people when trying to fire them. The substance in some of them escaped through the casing, it then covered the people and boom they burnt like torches. So make sure wind direction, among other things, is right when you do use them. It is a shame we do not have time to perfect them.”
“Unfortunately Callinicus, that's the one luxury we don't have,” said the Emperor.
“Will we be able to fit them all?” asked Arzealous.
“The last ones are going in now," shouted Callinicus. "We’ve been working on them for months don’t forget, so don’t seem so surprised that they are ready. Remember there maybe a few glitches so be careful. There’s been a lot of trial and error. More error than trial I’m afraid, until of course we found that formula in the realm of the Rageon. Let us just hope they can alter the tide of war in our favour.”
“They must do,” said the Emperor. “The survival of the Empire depends upon it.”
The Emperor waved Arzealous forward and the two left to inspect the ships. The Harbour had ship after ship moored up, being provisioned with arms of all types, from ballista to catapults. Sails hung loosely and were tied back ready to be unfurled. People carried their gear up planks, threw it down and then went to lay claim to sword, spear and bow. It was all very disciplined, orderly and Roman: there was no sense of panic. In fact most of the Stratiotai were relieved to know that they were about to break the siege once and for all. On seeing the Emperor walking among them, a great cheer went up. Moral lifted and everyone seemed to discover an extra step.
They approached the flag ship of the imperial navy: it was the largest ship ever made by Rome a platform ran along it. It was a veritable monster, and to each side were three of the siphon devices, whose long spouts stretched over its prow, there were ballista positioned astern, port and starboard. Archers were ready also to set fire to oncoming ships. It could carry a cohort of elite armed Stratiotai easily. It had one mission, to engage the enemy flagship and destroy it. The central m
ast was more akin to the trunk of a tree, and at either end were lesser masts. The sails had the crest of the Eastern Empire, a two headed eagle with a crown above it.
“She’s a beauty,” said the Emperor.
“Let’s pray she holds true to her purpose,” replied Arzealous.
“I have faith in her and in you my old friend, make sure you both come back.”
The Emperor took Arzealous by the arm and uttered his farewell. His eyes glazed over a moment: he then turned and made his way back to the palace.
Arzealous climbed aboard and began issuing instructions, the men knew their tasks, by the next day everything would be prepared. Arzealous spent the rest of the day looking over some of the ships, and encouraging the men to stand and fight for the empire one last time. Finally he returned to the flagship, walking up and down the prow he leant over the side of the ship and stared at the entrance to the harbour. It seemed so deceptively peaceful beyond those harbour walls, that you could be forgiven for thinking, that no battle was about to be fought. He smiled to himself. A seagull hung overhead, when a large ooze splattered the side of the ship.
“That’s good luck sir,” said the Mantador who had just clambered aboard. “When the ships christened like that.”
“I dare say, but not so lucky for the poor blighter underneath it though.”
“No sir, not lucky for them. But the rest of us certainly have a good chuckle about it.”
“Anyway, what can I do for you Mantador?”
“A message from Callinicus, he was called to the Church of the Holy Wisdom by the Patriarch and he asked for you to join him there. I'm afraid the Patriarch was a bit vague as to why he wanted to see him.”
“A summons by the Patriarch and a mystery one at that, I’d better be off. Who’s the highest ranking officer here?”
“It’s the Strategos sir; he’ll be aboard soon he’s currently putting together ship displacements and plans for your perusal.”
“When he arrives, tell him he’s to take charge of the fleet, till I return.”
Arzealous stepped lightly off the ship: The last thing he needed at that moment was another pep talk from the Patriarch. He made his way past row upon row of the heavy pots of amphora, all containing the highly flammable liquid that the siphons would eject. There were two Stratiotai Guard waiting for him as he exited the Harbour Gate. As he strode through, they immediately kept stride with him.
“What’s the situation Priscus?” asked Arzealous.
“Not quite sure sir, I was told to wait here with Bacchus for your arrival,” replied Priscus.
“From what I understood sir it’s the Rageon, He’s trying to come through again. So an entire Cohort has been called to the Church, also just in case...”
“So that's how they intend breaching our walls," interrupted Arzealous, "they must realise we now know of them otherwise they would have tried such a thing sooner.”
The three of them immediately quickened the pace, and sped along the thoroughfare leading up to the Church of the Holy Wisdom. People were still running past oblivious of the threat, they were heading to their designated areas, to wait for the assault from outside when it came.
The greyness of the days had past, the sky was blue, unclouded and there was no hint of a chill in the air. The days were fresher than usual, with a warm saltiness to them, blown in from the sea. The trees were budding and there was a strong aroma of apple blossom that livened the senses. The seagulls crowded round raucously, both white and grey, and dogs yelped, and gave chase to them when they hovered too close.
Arzealous entered through the main gate of the church and was quickly ushered forward to where Callinicus stood beneath the great domed ceiling, by his side was the Patriarch and the Emperor. He was holding out his staff, the head of which glowed excitedly. One wall to the astonishment and horror of most everyone was jet black, a swirling vortex covered it. And whatever was trying to come through was only prevented from doing so, by the energy emanating from the Staff of Light.
“Glad you could join us,” said Callinicus. “I don’t think I can keep the wolves from the door much longer, whoever it is, they certainly are powerful.”
“Is there any way of reversing the polarity of the threshold to weaken it?”
Callinicus shook his head, “Its course is set and there’s no changing it.”
“Everyone at the ready,” cried Arzealous.
They all drew their swords: even the monks and the old Patriarch were armed. Callinicus felt the power from his staff ebb away as the vortex began to stabilise.
“Something’s happening, and it’s not good,” shouted the Emperor.
“Steady, steady, hold the line, whatever happens you are Romans and you will stand and not fear the darkness,” cried Arzealous.
A harsh sound emanated from the wall as it rapidly swelled, warped, glistened and changed colour. A fracture appeared through its centre, bright, jagged and clear, the chamber shuddered once again, as the tear desperately struggled to break free of the power that had held it so confined. It was as though a spring that had been tightened back were suddenly released; there was a deep resonating boom, and the shallow fissure instantly became a vast tunnel, someone or something was coming through.