novelraw Chapter 320: Army
Chapter 320: Army
During the coronation, the Patriarch fabricated a noble lineage for Basil, claiming he was a descendant of the ancient Armenian Royal Family.
Given that the church was packed with Royal Guard soldiers and Varangian Guard warriors, the Nobles dared not object openly. They could only curse furiously in their hearts.
'A country Barbarian dares to call himself Emperor?'
'Once the generals across the lands receive the news, let us see how you handle it.'
'Since he was born in Macedonia, why not find a nobler ancestor, like Alexander the Great of the Macedonian Kingdom?'
After the coronation ceremony concluded, Basil lavishly rewarded his confidants. Niels gained another tongue-twisting honorary title, which he accepted with calm indifference.
On the morning of the third day, Basil assembled the soldiers in the square on the north side of the imperial palace, personally distributing money to them.
Last year, Michael III had eradicated Bardas and his trusted aides. Their estates across the regions were confiscated, and the vast majority of their gold and Silver was absorbed into Michael III's sacred treasury.
Now, Basil had launched a coup, taking over Michael III's sacred treasury. Along the way, he disposed of a large number of Nobles who opposed him, seizing their family assets. According to rough estimates, the wealth he currently controlled was roughly equal to the empire's total annual revenue. Converted to the measurement units of Britain and Northern Europe, it was equivalent to six hundred thousand pounds of Silver!
Upon hearing this number for the first time, Niels was deeply shaken. After careful consideration, however, he found the figure quite reasonable.The Eastern Roman Empire possessed a population of eight and a half million, with Constantinople alone exceeding half a million. Its level of civilization utterly crushed other regions in Europe, making this level of income a matter of course. If placed in its peak period centuries ago, the financial revenue would have multiplied several times over.
Gazing at the mountain-like piles of gold and Silver in the square, and the soldiers lining up to receive their bounties, Niels muttered to himself:
"Even if you combine Charles the Bald and Wigg, their estimated annual revenue is only about one hundred thousand pounds. The rest—Rurik, Erik Jr., and Halfdan Whiteshirt—are even poorer. They cannot even be brought to the table."
After two days of bustling activity, Basil finished distributing the rewards to every soldier under his command, initially securing their loyalty.
Following this, Basil wrote letters to the generals stationed in various regions. Tailoring his approach to each individual's personality, the terms he offered varied greatly.
In just one short month, through complex political maneuvers and transactions, Basil won the recognition of over ten generals.
With the grand scheme set in stone, Michael III coincidentally died of a sudden illness, allowing Basil to temporarily stabilize the situation. In order to elevate his prestige and legitimize his rule, he urgently needed to launch a foreign war, using victory to consolidate his power.
At present, the total military strength of the Eastern Roman Empire stood at one hundred thousand, which included:
Sixty-five thousand peasant soldiers distributed across various military districts. They held hereditary plots of land, farming and paying taxes during peacetime, and answering the call to arms during war. Their morale and training levels were relatively poor.
Ten thousand border defense soldiers stationed at the frontiers to repel foreign invasions.
Fifteen thousand field army soldiers and two thousand Varangian Guard warriors stationed in Constantinople. Superbly equipped and fiercely formidable in combat, they served as the core martial force of the empire.
Finally, there was the Eastern Roman navy, boasting sixty Warships manned by a total of five thousand sailors, craftsmen, and miscellaneous personnel.
Furthermore, the generals of the various military districts commanded varying numbers of mercenaries, totaling around several thousand men.
Having calculated the standing of all these forces, Basil convened a meeting with his most trusted ministers.
The meeting did not take place in the main hall of the imperial palace, but rather on an open-air balcony situated halfway up a mountain, facing the Sea of Marmara. Verdant vines crawled around the surroundings, and the tables were laden with fruits such as figs, grapes, and olives.
Niels did not eat; instead, he cast his gaze toward the eastern sea. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the ocean surface shimmered with fragmented golden light beneath the afternoon sun. Merchant Ships of various shapes came and went, and occasionally, the navy's dromon Warships could be spotted. The oars of the Warships rose and fell in perfect unison as they sailed briskly across the water. Two Heavy Ballistas were mounted on the Deck, and the prow featured a dragon-shaped sculpture, which supposedly concealed the projector for Greek Fire.
"Sit wherever you like, there is no need to be so formal."
Draped in a purple robe, Basil arrived on the open-air balcony with a smile, instructing the servants to unfurl a massive map across the floor.
The Eastern Roman Empire faced three main external threats: the Abbasid Caliphate to the east, the rising power of Bulgaria in the Balkans, and the Pirates entrenched on the island of Crete.
"In which direction do you believe we should deploy our forces?"
The crowd remained silent. Basil's gaze swept across the open-air balcony before finding Niels at the edge of the gathering. "Nobelissimos," he called out, using the honorable title meaning 'Most Noble', typically bestowed upon the emperor's trusted inner circle. "What are your thoughts?"
Niels replied in broken Greek, "The Abbasid Caliphate boasts formidable strength and vast territories; it would be unwise to provoke them unprompted. The Cretan Pirates excel at hit-and-run harassment tactics, their movements erratic and elusive, making them incredibly difficult to catch.
"Therefore, I choose Bulgaria. Their territory lies just north of Constantinople. The distance is short, making it convenient to transport supplies."
Niels's line of thought perfectly aligned with Basil's own. When the emperor was young, he had been abducted to Bulgaria, suffering more than twenty years of hardship. Now that he held absolute power, it was time to exact his revenge.
He nodded slightly, revealing an expectant smile. "How do you think we should deploy the troops?"
Niels explained, "The peasant soldiers are weak in combat, making them unsuitable to be drafted for this campaign. If they suffer excessive casualties, it will likely leave the defenses in Anatolia dangerously hollow, inviting an invasion from the Abbasid Caliphate.
"I suggest recruiting the Rus and the nomads of the Eastern European steppes. They live in poverty, so with just a little coin, we can acquire a massive batch of mercenaries. Even if they suffer heavy losses, it will not shake the foundation of the empire."
During this era, the combat prowess of the Eastern Roman infantry was far inferior to the Roman Legions from centuries past. What they relied upon was their cataphracts—where both rider and mount were clad in heavy Armor, rendering them immune to the vast majority of attacks.
Compared to the Frankish Knights who excelled at the Couched Lance Charge, these cataphracts were additionally equipped with bows and arrows, taking on the role of 'heavy horse archers'. Their drawback lay in their sluggish speed; the heavy horse Armor prevented them from catching up to enemy cavalry, thus requiring the cooperation of friendly light cavalry.
The emperor felt that having the Eastern Europeans serve as Heavy Infantry and the nomads as light cavalry would effectively cover the military's shortcomings. The Eastern Roman Empire possessed abundant financial resources and cared little about such a trivial sum of money.
The emperor approved Niels's proposal, dispatching him to the Middle and Lower Dnieper River to recruit mercenaries, capping the scale at no more than fifteen thousand men.
Two days later, Niels, the financial officer Tytus, five eunuchs, and an escort of five hundred guards headed to the Golden Horn to board their ships. Under the escort of dromon Warships, they set sail for Eastern Europe.
Revisiting old haunts, Niels found that the Middle and Lower Dnieper River had not changed much. The Rus people still lived impoverished and perilous lives, constantly entangled in endless skirmishes with the nomads.
Upon learning of the arrival of the Eastern Roman delegation, the Rus Chieftains were in high spirits. They brought the young men of their Tribes to the riverside camp, seeking a high-risk, ultra-high-reward job.
"My name is Niels, the White Raven of Gnutz, commander of the Varangian Guard, Nobelissimos appointed by the emperor, and the nephew of Ragnar."
After listing off this long string of titles, Niels looked down at the few slightly panicked faces in the crowd. "I have fought alongside some of your Chieftains in the past, so I assume you are all more or less familiar with my deeds. I have come this time to share some good news with all of you."