Chapter 190: The Emperor’s Invitation
When the priests indeed discovered that Manuel I was truly alive, not a corpse animated by sorcery, nor possessed by an evil devil, they could not help but rejoice, for they, more than others, naturally hoped that Manuel I could live; only if the Emperor lived could he possibly fulfill the promises he had previously made.
Among them were several priests from the churches and monasteries of Antioch, who had abandoned their old lord and unhesitatingly thrown their lot in with the new lord; could it be because Manuel I, as a monarch, was exceptionally charismatic?
Perhaps he was charismatic, but this charisma was undoubtedly brought by his money and power.
No matter what, the prosperity of Constantinople was unmatched anywhere, hailed by all nations as the Queen of cities, precisely because it was perpetually wrapped in gold and silk.
With the priests’ treatment, Manuel I soon fully awoke.
His memory lingered at the moment he fell into the swamp, which was possibly the enemy the cavalry least wanted to encounter—far more terrifying than swords or Greek fire.
They were being pursued by the Turks, fleeing blindly until they plunged into the dense forest; after a few steps, they had to abandon their horses and proceed on foot, and this swamp was extremely deceptive: the top layer was hardened soil overgrown with lush grass and plants; upon stepping on it, aside from feeling the ground not entirely solid, no one noticed anything amiss.
But the deeper they went, the less it could support them; suddenly, Manuel I sank down—he was heavier than the others, and even in hasty flight, he still wore a great deal of gold jewelry, with his clothing embroidered densely with gold and silver thread.
As he sank, he began to cry for help, but the subjects around him were already trapped in inescapable mud; only two or three low-status attendants and slaves followed behind—they had not sunk into the mire but lacked the courage to enter it to rescue him.
They searched around but found no rope or the like. After hesitating for a moment, they actually fled, enraging those trapped in the mire; they cursed loudly, but what could they do? Words sometimes carry the force of thunder, but at others are too weak to pierce a sheet of paper.
Manuel I sank faster than the others. In his final moments, he loudly made confession, repenting all the sins he had committed since birth.
Especially this time, he prayed to God simultaneously, hoping an angel would descend from heaven to save him; he was even willing to promise a marble building no less magnificent than the Hagia Sophia cathedral in return, but the only response was startled birds and beasts; he stretched out his hands, futilely watching the sky before him disappear bit by bit as mud water filled his eyes, causing pain; when he closed them, the last faint light vanished.
He thought that when he awoke again, he would surely be walking in hell or standing on the stairs of heaven, but pain and suffocation soon told him he was still in the mortal world.
The priests surrounded him; he thought they had saved him, but when Manuel I expressed thanks, one priest, with both fear and unwillingness, admitted that it was not they who had saved Manuel I, but the King of Ayyarasa Road and a Christian knight at his side.
“The King of Ayyarasa Road!” the Emperor exclaimed in surprise, “He actually came?”
The reason he had committed such a grave error, ignoring his subjects’ objections and insisting on breaking out with a small group, was that he had lost hope for victory and the future, his heart filled with pessimism, believing this expedition would inevitably be an unprecedented great defeat.
But from his own standpoint, he did not want to die; every moment of a monarch’s life outweighed a century of a lowly person’s—he comforted himself thus.
Unfortunately, neither this idea nor this argument gained the support of those nobles; or rather, they did not consider their own lives more lowly than Manuel I’s. They insisted he take responsibility—this was no jest; having led them here, he must lead them back to Constantinople; likewise, he should not abandon the Byzantine army besieged outside.
In any case, they had come at the monarch’s calling.
Yet their monarch, to save himself, had abandoned them in the wilderness, leaving them to be surrounded, cut down, and captured by the enemy—this was conduct gravely damaging to honor and morality. Their opposition was so fierce that when Manuel I decided to break out, he did not even dare tell too many people.
He took only his personal guard and those eunuch officials loyal to him.
The political system of the Byzantine Empire featured numerous eunuchs, who filled various roles from secretaries to captains of the personal guard; having lost their male identity, if they left Manuel I, let alone power, even their lives would be insecure—they would absolutely not betray him, as later events proved.
But their strength was ultimately too weak; to evade the wolf-like Turks, they were forced into this gray fir forest—the primitive jungle was no safer than the Turkish army—but that it would so quickly open its bloody maw was something Manuel I had not anticipated; he thought he would perish there, and a hard-to-describe fear arose in his heart.
He feared no one would discover that the Emperor of the Roman Empire（as the Byzantines） so called himself, a great monarch, had fallen here. He would have no funeral, no grave, no one to perform the sacraments for him; he would silently turn into a pile of bones in the swamp, perhaps undiscovered even after a millennium.
This fear gripped his heart, so that even days later, upon seeing sunlight again, he remained somewhat dazed, hardly daring to believe he had escaped with his life.
Yes, not only the swamp—the King of Ayyarasa Road and his army had also saved him from the Turks’ encirclement.
“Your Majesty, Sultan Arslan II of the Turks has arrived.” His Royal Secretary（also a eunuch） reminded him; Manuel I finally gained some clarity. Right, today was the day to resume negotiations with Arslan II. “Is the seat for the King of Ayyarasa Road prepared?”
“It is prepared.” In view of the King of Ayyarasa Road’s benevolence and valor, the Emperor allowed him a seat beside his own throne—a distinction previously granted only to Manuel I’s most beloved son or most trusted minister.
“It is prepared,” the Royal Secretary replied, then quietly reminded, “And the Count of Edessa…”
“Oh, that handsome young man—he and the King of Ayyarasa Road pulled me back from the brink of death together; have you not given him my rewards?”
“That matter has long been arranged,” the Royal Secretary said. “But this count is blood kin to the King of Ayyarasa Road and his close friend of many years. They once swore before God to guarantee each other—and indeed they did. Also, I hear the King of Ayyarasa Road has granted him powers equal to his own, allowing him to act in the king’s name abroad.”
Manuel I closed his eyes and pondered for a moment.
“Then so be it,” he decided. “Place another chair beside the King of Ayyarasa Road. Make its rank slightly lower than the king’s, but not too far away.”
The Royal Secretary accepted Manuel I’s order and left the tent. Soon he returned before Manuel I, attending him to a larger tent where three parties gathered: Manuel I of the Byzantine Empire and his subjects; Arslan II of the Sultanate of Rum and his generals; and the King of Ayyarasa Road along with the Christian knights who accompanied him.
Since the contract’s contents had already been discussed back and forth many times by envoys from each side, this was merely a solemn and formal ceremony.
Arslan II swore again before Manuel I; they first abolished the previous treaty, then the Sultan promised no ambition toward Manuel I’s throne or territory; if he violated the treaty, he was willing to accept punishment from Allah.
In return, the vassal-liege relationship between Arslan II and Manuel I confirmed in the previous treaty was annulled, and the Sultan became an ally equal in status and identity to Manuel I.
As an ally, Arslan II acknowledged Manuel I’s authority and promised to serve him; if Manuel I and his Empire were invaded by external enemies, he was willing to lead his army personally or send his soldiers to fight for Manuel I.
In return for this loyalty, Manuel I was to cede all territories previously conquered by Arslan II, and Manuel I would dismantle the fortresses and strongholds built on those lands.
Finally, Arslan II and Manuel I exchanged tokens and swore oaths—to their respective gods.
The scribe presented the completed treaty. Manuel I signed first, then Arslan II, followed by the witnesses on site: King Baldwin IV of Ayyarasa Road, the Count of Edessa and Knight of Bethlehem Caesar, Grand Duke Bohemond III of Antioch, Count Raymond of Tripoli, and others of honor and status.
After the ceremony, Manuel I felt weary and returned to his tent to rest.
Not long after Baldwin returned to the tent, another envoy from Manuel I arrived, bringing Manuel I’s gifts—this was already the third time in these days—and on behalf of his lord, earnestly invited the King of Ayyarasa Road, his close friend, and anyone he wished to bring to Constantinople.
He promised that no matter how many the king brought—whether a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand—their food, lodging, clothing, and other needs would be borne by Manuel I. He requested with extreme eagerness and desperation that they accept the king’s invitation—bowing and scraping would not be an overstatement.
Those present looked somewhat odd, especially Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch; he was first to say he would not go to Constantinople with the King of Ayyarasa Road Baldwin—people understood; he had lost over ten thousand men, though knights numbered fewer than a hundred, the rest all hired soldiers and laborers, but this loss was still a heavy blow to the Grand Duke.
Though the Emperor had promised to compensate the Grand Duke’s losses as much as possible, he knew the Emperor likely would not repay it all; after all, those burned siege engines had proven Bohemond’s incompetence—Manuel I had only said so to soothe people—while privately, Manuel I had more than once mocked and rebuked this in-law.
Even if he foolishly went to Constantinople, what awaited was still Manuel I’s cold stares and indifference.
Why then go and make a fool of himself? Better to return to Antioch early, curl up in his lair, and lick his wounds.
“I’ll go with you,” said Raymond; he had weighed it carefully before deciding, and the odd expressions arose because people guessed why Manuel I made such an invitation.
News of Manuel I’s great defeat had reached Constantinople, and his act of abandoning his loyal subjects, generals, and soldiers like a coward while the battle’s outcome was unclear had already angered many, both outside and inside Constantinople.
For Constantinople’s populace, overthrowing and killing a monarch was no rarity; they were always the choosers, not the chosen.
It could be said that if not for Manuel I having already killed all his brothers, castrated all his nephews, and his son being only six years old, he might never have another chance to return to Constantinople.
The conspirators watching darkly in the shadows were not just his dead brothers; his two thousand personal guard might not play much role in such a treacherous vortex.
As for his Queen, sister of Grand Duke Bohemond III of Antioch—Constance—and daughter born to Raymond, she was not liked by Constantinople’s people; though Constantinople also worshipped God, its political system leaned Eastern, yet this new Queen stubbornly handled matters with Frankish thinking and methods—thus making countless enemies, offering little aid to Manuel I.
Manuel I needed a new ally. Of course, he was not referring to Arslan II; who else could this new ally be but the King of Ayyarasa Road? Not to mention, this young king had at his side a Little Saint acknowledged by many.
If the miracles he performed on Ayyarasa Road could be dismissed as fabricated, what happened to Manuel I forced the Emperor and those around him to admit that this exceedingly handsome knight was favored by God, a favor so overflowing it affected those around him.
And that likewise youthful King of Ayyarasa Road had previously achieved that great victory on the Sea of Galilee, in which they even captured the Saracens’ Light of Faith, Nur al-Din.
In the war with Sultan Arslan II of Rum, he was the Victor; with such honors, if he stood by Manuel I, Manuel I was confident he could pacify Constantinople’s populace and smoothly weather this crisis.
