So far, Doukas had achieved tremendous success against the Empire’s enemies, and Nikolaus could not understand why the Praetorians were glaring so harshly towards the general’s tent.
“Bring me my sword,” he whispered to the young Symeon. “I don’t believe this will end well…”
The young man obeyed, brought the sword to his master and also took a koptis, a short sword used by the common soldiers. Nikolaus sheathed his sword and stood outside of his tent, next to an almost extinguished hearth, with Symeon standing right next to him. Many other soldiers had woken up too, rubbing their tired eyes, looking and watching menacingly towards the small horse regiment. Many of them had taken their weapons out of their scabbards, waiting for a signal to tear down the intruders that seemed to threaten their commander. The tension was growing with each passing second. The Praetorian guards had their hands on their sword handles, ready to defend themselves. Worry was starting to take root in their hearts and then fear, as more than two hundred men-at-arms were starting to surround them. If this rubble decided to attack them, they would be done for. But every soldier of the Roman Empire knew the grave consequences of ending the life of their comrades, especially without cause. But the Praetorians knew that these men were waiting for that exact excuse to attack them.
“Sebastokrator John Doukas! We call you on behalf of the King and Emperor of all Romans Isaac Angelos, second of his name, lord of Constantinople and keeper of the regions of Byzantium and Heraclea!” the Praetorian Officer declared, holding a parchment in his hands.
There was complete silence for a few moments. But then, heavy footsteps were heard coming from the general’s tent. Doukas made his appearance, wearing his heavy roman armor, covering from his neck to his toes. He was holding his helmet in his hands, so that everyone could see the smile on his face. He deemed tension unnecessary, especially when their enemies were camped nearby. If the Bulgars realized that the Roman camp was in disarray and chaos, they would surely seize the opportunity for a counterattack.
“What do you seek from me, gentlemen?” he asked, while motioning for their men to stand down and sheathe their blades.
The men obeyed, but the Praetorian noticed the angry faces of those hardened soldiers.
“Are you sure you want to talk out here general?” he asked as he seemed confused or rather frightened. “Maybe I could come in and let you know about the will of our most esteemed emperor”.
When the Praetorian called the emperor “most esteemed”, many men laughed, and Nikolaus was sure that Doukas smiled too. They all knew what kind of man Isaac was.
“Whatever you need to say to me, you can say in front of these men too. There are no secrets here. The men that share the horrors of war on the battlefield, form a very special brotherly bond”.
The praetorian commander sighed with displeasure. He did not want to create a scene, let alone a bloodshed, in front of so many witnesses, especially when these witnesses were armed and dangerous. But Doukas left him no other choice but to take his chances.
“General Doukas, Emperor Isaac Angelos calls you back to Constantinople and relieves you of your command, on suspicions of high treasons against the Crown,” the Praetorian officer announced. “Please do not resist your arrest”.
Doukas did not answer immediately, but after a while he sighed.
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“Very well then,” he replied. “I will come with you”.
He then turned to his soldiers.
“I do not wish to see blood spilt between brothers. Please drop your weapons”.
No one spoke for a couple of minutes. Nobody objected nor concurred with the command of their general. The tension had reached its peak. Murder was glowing in the soldiers’ eyes of both sides. John was amused, seeing the fear in the eyes of his interlocutor. It was like mental dialogue between them, in which Doukas had the upper hand. He was telling him that any moment now his men could send the Praetorians’ heads back to Isaac themselves and also relieve the emperor from his throne. They had the numbers after all to enter Constantinople with little to no resistance at all. After all, his men were veterans of war. Hardened and tough as they come. If John wished it, that would be the outcome of this… meeting. But he would not do such things. He was not like other men. John did not wish his beloved Empire plunged into another civil war. This was not his way.
The Praetorian gulped and reached for his sword. The chirping of crows could only be heard, as these birds, sensing what was going to happen, had already begun circulating around the camp. But no killing was about to take place. Suddenly, John’s soldiers, with Nikolaus being first, let their arms fall to the ground. All of them were disarmed. Doukas looked towards his second in command, Nikolaus, with a look full of gratitude.
The Praetorians, without losing any time, took out iron chains and detained Sebastokrator Doukas. Then they helped him get on one of the horses. Before leaving, John asked the Praetorian officer to speak to his men. Although reluctant, the Praetorian granted that wish.
“Withdraw from this place immediately and return to our lands. Once you are there, wait for your new commander. Do not make the mistake of moving on your own. You endanger your lives and the lives of your comrades advancing in enemy territory without a general leading you. Is that understood?”
“Sir, yes sir!” the men cried out.
Almost immediately, the officer of the Imperial regiment gave the order, and the small custody of riders began to move away from the camp. Once they vanished inside the fog of the forest, Nikolaus entered his tent and started packing immediately. Symeon followed him puzzled.
“What are you doing?” the squire asked.
“If you think that I will sit here idle, while John is chained like a wild animal in the hands of Isaac, you are mistaken! I intent to follow them” Nikolaus declared.
He then proceeded to put two chitons inside in his traveling bag, two knives, a sharpening stone and some provisions that he found scattered in his tent.
“Bring my sword!” he ordered Symeon.
The young man lifted the sword and held it in his hand for a moment. He hesitated.
“Let me come with you!” he pleaded.
“Don’t even think about it, young man,” Nikolaus answered, in a stern voice, even though a smile was forming at the edge of his lips, seeing the courage and bravery of his apprentice.
“But why, sir? I think that after all, I am more than capable to…,” Symeon tried to say but Nikolaus cut him off with an abrupt motion of his hand.
“I need you to remain here,” he explained. “To lead our men away from the battlefield to a safe place”.
“But I am just a squire, sir. Who will follow me?” the youngster asked nervously, anxious with the burden that have befallen on his inexperienced shoulders.
“Our men respect general Doukas and me also. If they follow us, they will follow you too, if I command it. There is no need to be afraid”.
He smiled.
“I trust you Symeon. Help the lads to return to our side of the border. Our allies will see that they are taken care of”.
He took his blade and wrapped his cloak around him, as he was preparing to exit the tent.
“And when you are done… and only then… You can come and find me in Constantinople!”
Author's Note:
Sebastokrator was a title that was given to members of the nobility. It was the second higher rank in the Eastern Roman Empire. Anna Komnene, the daughter of Alexios Komnenos (the emperor who created this title to honor his brother), told us in her written testimony that it means "second emperor".
Praetorian is an anachronism. I use that to avoid Hellenic words that could cause confusion. The real term, for those interested, is Hetairos (Hetaireia as a regiment of Imperial Guards). Also, we could say that the Varangian Guard had duties involving the protection of the emperor.
Historical Characters so far: