31.Perspectives

  25th of February the Fatimid ruler Abū Tamīm Ma?ad al-Mustan?ir bi?llāh received the report on his desk, the Turkish and Berber Sudanese factions were fighting and he had to navigate the court politics of fighting.

  “Eastern Romans are near civil war?” He said, “that could be any day of the week, by Allah I wonder how they even have a state?” I am one to talk.

  He had issues with his own sons vying for power, the rivalry between the Turkish and African mercenaries, dynastic monarchical and power struggle problems, but he saw the document from a trader who had visited Bari.

  “Isn’t that an Eastern Roman town?” He mused.

  A town of exceptional wealth in the Adriatic, has hired mercenaries, and is Pagan.

  “Bah, what a fool, such a state will collapse soon enough.”

  Little did he know.

  John Komnenos received the news of the heathen Republic of Bari.

  “Western Roman Republic?” John said, too shocked to even understand the situation, “and they took over the entire heel?”

  “Yes sir,” an Eastern Roman spy said, “they have made a pretty sophisticated spy network within the city, have caught Norman spies and captured Taranto.”

  “Taranto?” John said, “bring me some wine, double jug.”

  He sat on a wooden chair, and put on a cloak to keep the chill off his bones, he did the Orthodox cross on his chest and looked at the spy with amazement. A short stature and dark eyes he looked at the spy with incredulity.

  “I’m being serious,” the spy said.

  “Ah Jesus,” John said, “let the Emperor know the details, pass it on, but how did you escape the their net?”

  “I was a legitimate businessman, and I saw the spies being swooped up and captured,” the spy said, “they have indigo John.”

  “Oh Indigo, is that so?” John said, “great we can dye our hands blue to cover the bruises I am going to get.”

  “To be honest sir, I am not sure it’s worth the hassle, I have heard troubling reports from the East so perhaps a deal with these idolators is not such a bad thing,”

  “I will pass on your recommendations to the Emperor, and to the other lords, god I hope Romanos understands the problems with Eastern Rome.”

  It is like a paradise there, but I will not say as much, I could sell those spies some information. Eastern Rome is weak, granted they don’t have the will, and Adaneus seems like he wants to trade with the east not war. He wants markets. Well maybe weak is a long shot, like always here in the East, the state is at war with itself, with some faction plotting. I will not say anything, but I know his brother is plotting something.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Roger was planning his campaign in Sicily when a rider galloped up to him throwing a piece of parchment to him. He took the parchment and unfurled it and it read:

  Guiscard has lost, Adaneus and the Western Roman Republic have won, Taranto is theirs.

  “Guiscard lost Taranto?” Roger exclaimed, “but last time I heard he was besieging Bari,” he paused and read aloud the note again, “Western Roman Republic? What?”

  “I don’t know sir, from what I heard it was some Pagan lunatic, devil worshipper, in cahoots with satan did dark magic, there are rumours that Gocelin joined him, and they conquered the heel of Italy, Otranto, Monopoli and the coast.”

  “By the virgin Mary what have you done brother?” Roger asked.

  “His 19,000 troops were defeated by 13,000,” the rider said, “that is what someone said, but I don’t know how that can be true.”

  Roger brushed his fair hair off his face, brushing his hair and cursing under his breath.

  “I need his assistance against the Saracens, now you are telling me he lost in battle against some Pagan upstart?”

  “The upstart from what I told, simply financed the operation,” the rider said, “but yes, it is strange, no one has any reliable information that doesn’t sound fanciful, but I cannot explain it.”

  My brother has a considerable problem, but I cannot abandon my hold of Sicily for his campaigns. But if he truly does collapse that would be a disaster.

  “And the pope?”

  “On that front your brother is lucky, I hear the pope is calling for reinforcements and the Holy Roman Emperor is cooperating to send troops down.”

  So our possessions are safe, but that might mean the heel will be lost to us, dominion of the Emperor or the Holy See. Damn. How could you be so foolish brother?

  Ibn Al Baba read the paper report, and turned to the merchant who gave him the document.

  “What do you mean they defeated the Normans?”

  “The Western Roman Republic under Adaneus defeated Guiscard, it was another Norman and a Greek officer Zethos, they managed to obliterate a Norman army reinforced by the Papacy and the holy Roman Emperor.”

  “Get a messenger to the Almoravids, request an army, Roger must be reeling, now!” The merchant lord shouted. “Or the Zirids, or the Hammadids, someone for fucks sake!”

  He brushed his well oiled and trimmed beard, breathing in and out and catching himself smiling devilishly.

  Roger I heard he was coming for me, maybe he won’t now. There is still hope. I can still hold onto my city. If only Ifriqiya was united, I could potentially ask for help, but they hate each other more than the infidels, a Pagan ruler of Bari means a potential for slaves, idolators are not respected by east or west, Christian or Muslim, and yet they trounced an army of Guiscard, Guiscard is not someone to be taken idly, and yet…

  A Zirid nobleman came to Ibn Al Baba, looking in his dark eyes, eating a date and staring at the commotion.

  “A Pagan?” The Zirid man said, “opportunity for plunder no?”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ibn Al Baba said, “but possibly yes, we have bigger problems at the moment.”

  “Roger,” the Zirid nobleman said, “yes, I have heard your embassies on this problem, unfortunately, the Hammadids occupy us at the moment, and whatever we do, they do the opposite, the situation in the Fatimid caliphate is critical.”

  “Like I want their help,” Ibn Al Baba said.

  “If they were willing to help you, I would suggest you become an Ismaili and praise the Ahl al-Bayt just to receive reinforcements; unfortunately for everyone they are battling famine and civil strife, only the Seljuks in the east have any success, and even then.”

  “So you came here to tell me you can’t help, I would have preferred you not come,” Ibn Al Baba.

  “Subordinate yourself to one of the other princes on the island, that would be my recommendation.”

  “Ah yes, subordinate yourself to the Hammadids,” Ibn Al Baba retorted.

  The jibe was well placed and the Zirid embassy relented.

  “We will organise a small raiding party on the Pagans just to see what it is we are dealing with,” the Zirid said, “that is what I came to say, of course you are invited to do the same.”

  “Of course,” Ibn Al Baba replied.