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"Basil, my son… are you all right?" my father said, staring at me as he stepped out of the Byzantine garrison formation that had arrived to respond to the Bulgarian attack.
"Yes, I'm fine… there weren't many of them. It looks like they split off from the group they were traveling with. They must have seen the forge and one of them insisted on trying to steal something. They weren't armored and their weapons were trash, but they could have easily killed someone who didn't know how to fight, because they knew how to work as a group," I replied, while my father checked to make sure the blood covering me wasn't mine.
A moment later, Grigor appeared.
"Bardas… you can't just break formation like that…" Grigor said, scolding my father.
"And where exactly were you supposed to be?" I asked, staring him down. "Aren't you supposed to be protecting the city?"
"We can't be everywhere, Basil… a group of Bulgarians slipped past the defenses not long ago. We got the information from the frontier, and as soon as I knew, I began preparing the men to secure the approaches to Adrianople," Grigor replied, holding my gaze.
"Well then that's a damn fine job you're doing… isn't there anyone watching the forests?" I pressed.
"And what do you know about this, boy?" Grigor shot back, frowning. "I have too much to watch with too little manpower. There should be ten thousand men in the thema and we only have four thousand. Even so, I do what I can to protect the area."
"Oh, then everything's fine. Everything is magically fine…" I said, looking at him with contempt. "So it doesn't matter that I almost got killed, doesn't matter that I nearly lost everything, because you did what you could."
"Basil, enough. You're overreacting," my father said sharply.
"You shut up." I stared at him. "More than anyone, you should be on my side. Mother isn't far from here—just a couple hundred steps away. What would've happened if instead of the forge they went to the house and found her defenseless, huh? While you play soldier?"
My father clenched his jaw but said nothing.
"If you're so concerned, why don't you join the thema and do something better than just hammering iron?" Grigor said.
"Yeah… but I don't like being locked behind stone walls watching Bulgarians kill, rape, and burn everything they find, only to come out later and hunt stragglers and say I did all I could…" I replied, giving him a crooked smile.
Grigor took a deep breath.
"Bardas, forgive me, but I have to do this… I have to teach this boy a lesson," Grigor said after closing his eyes for a moment.
He didn't hesitate. He threw a straight punch at my face.
I stepped forward in the same motion, lowered my head, and bent my body, slipping under the punch. Before he could react, I grabbed his arm and pulled with all my strength, throwing him like a sack of grain over my body using the most basic judo technique. Grigor's body slammed into the ground hard.
I dropped onto him and drove my knee into his neck, applying just enough pressure to choke him without breaking anything. I drew my dagger and slowly pressed it against his eye.
"What were you going to do, you piece of shit, huh? What lesson were you going to teach me?" I said, showing him the blade.
"Basil…!" my father said, trying to move closer.
"TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND I'LL KILL HIM!" I shouted.
I saw the men of the garrison begin to surround me, tense, not daring to intervene. My father froze, not knowing what to do.
"So, Grigor… which eye do you like less? The right one or the left?" I said mockingly. "So you'll remember fondly that a CHILD took your eye. Come on… speak. You weren't so brave a moment ago."
I eased the pressure of my knee slightly.
The only sound was the desperate gasping of someone struggling to breathe.
"Come on, answer… I don't have all day before they throw me in a cell," I said with a smile, keeping his head pinned with one hand and the other ready, even as he struggled beneath me.
"BASIL… stop it, for the love of God… you've taken this too far!" my father said, his voice breaking.
"Fine. Shit," I said, tossing the dagger to the ground and getting off Grigor, raising my hands.
Immediately, all the men of the thema surrounded me, spear tips pressed against my chest.
Grigor coughed violently but eventually got to his feet. His eyes burned with hatred as he clenched his fists.
"Go on, do it… show your great bravery by hitting someone who can't defend himself," I said, stepping close and offering my jaw.
Grigor ground his teeth and looked at my father.
"ENOUGH! We have Bulgarians to stop. We don't have time for this," he finally said.
His soldiers looked at each other in disbelief and pulled their spears back from me.
"And you, Bardas—talk to your damned son and don't come back until you've put him in his place," he added, clearly furious.
"Grigor, your dignity's still on the ground. Come back and pick it up," I shouted as he walked away.
Grigor took a deep breath and kept walking without looking back.
"BASIL!" my father said, striking my helmet sharply.
"The next time you raise a hand against me, I'll knock every tooth out of your mouth. Understood?" I said, jabbing him several times in the chest with my finger before turning and walking home.
"BASIL… BASIL!" my father shouted as he followed me.
When we arrived, my mother was already waiting. She seemed to have seen part of what had happened.
"BASIL, MY SON… please tell me that isn't your blood!" she cried in terror at the sight of Bulgarian blood on my face and chest.
"No, mother… calm down… it's not mine, thankfully," I replied calmly.
She quickly wiped the armor with a damp cloth to clean it, while tears ran down her face.
My father came in shortly after.
"Bardas… what happened out there?" my mother asked.
"I don't know, my love… I don't know… Basil lost control, it seems," my father replied.
"Calm down, mother… by God's grace nothing bad will happen. If you allow me, I'll go back to my work," I said in a calm tone.
"BASIL, we need to talk!" my father shouted.
I ignored him and walked out of the house.
"BASIL, DON'T IGNORE ME!" my father yelled.
I turned back.
"Listen to me carefully. You are my father, and I know what you did for me. I will never forget it. But if a Bulgarian so much as touches a single hair on my mother's head, or causes her the slightest harm… believe me, you won't need to worry about revenge. I will drag you myself before the tribunal of the Almighty, even if I'm condemned to hell for parricide. Because if we're in this miserable situation, it's your fault," I said, staring at him, then walked back to the forge while my father simply returned home.
In the end, nothing happened. Hours passed and no one came to arrest me, so Grigor chose to let it go out of friendship with my father, though the humiliation would never leave him.
I was furious. About everything. And above all, about the incompetence in defending Adrianople. Spring had barely begun, and the presence of Bulgarian raiders so early meant that when autumn arrived the attacks would be more frequent, aimed at stealing crops and livestock.
From the armor they wore it was clear they weren't regular soldiers, but simple raiders. Considering that many lived solely by pillage, it was nothing unusual.
The worst part was that the Empire had strict rules about who could organize armed forces. Only the themata or tagmata—and the akritai of Anatolia—were allowed. Any attempt at independent local defense was seen as a risk of rebellion, even if you only wanted to protect yourself from the Bulgarians. So you had to rely on the incompetence of the thema.
But I didn't want to join the army directly either. With the way they operated, I'd die carrying out the orders of an idiot.
The other option was to request permission from the strategos to form a private force, but between response times and bureaucracy, the Bulgarians would have already destroyed everything I owned.
That's when I came up with an idea to secure a swift audience.
I took several gold coins, melted them in a crucible, and used them to adorn the pommel of a steel sword I had forged—a sword that looked worthy of a wealthy man. After a day of work and a tense night at home, I presented myself at the strategos' fortress, knowing he was organizing patrols to hunt down the Bulgarians who had crossed the frontier.
Displaying the sword to his men, I introduced myself as an artisan wishing to show respect to the strategos by offering him a blade of exceptional quality.
After several questions and repeated insistence that I deliver it personally, they finally let me through.
I found the strategos reviewing maps alongside one of his subordinates.
I approached with my head lowered. Everything depended on his mood.
I removed the cloth covering the sword and presented a fine steel blade adorned with gold.
I immediately noticed he liked it, judging by the smile forming on his face.
"Good edge," he said, running a finger along the blade and then over his forearm, cutting a few hairs. "Good balance," he added, resting it on a finger and judging the weight. "And beautifully decorated," concluded Strategos Leon Skleros. "To what do I owe this gift, smith? I assume you're looking to offer your forge's services?"
"I understand there are no newly registered forges in Adrianople. Where did you come from?" asked the officer beside him.
"My forge is by the Evros River, my strategos, and the reason I came today is because—" I began, before being interrupted.
"Aren't you the one who nearly killed Droungarios Grigor?" the officer asked.
"I thought those were just rumors," added the strategos.
"The droungarios got angry with me for criticizing his failure to do his job, after I had to kill three Bulgarians with the help of my workers. And well…he tried to punch me... let's say I was faster than him, and before he could react, I already had a dagger at his eye and my knee on his throat," I replied.
"So it was true… tell me, did that Armenian beg?" the strategos asked, clearly amused.
"He could barely breathe with my knee on his throat, my strategos," I answered calmly.
"Maybe that'll knock some sense into that idiot," said the officer.
"Let's hope so," replied the strategos. "If you're looking for contracts, unfortunately I must tell you everything for this year has already been commissioned. It would have to be next year, after price discussions."
"I see. But I came to ask, my strategos, about the feasibility of hiring a force under my command to defend my forge. As you know, I don't trust the incompetent Grigor for that task. He stays inside the walls waiting for the Bulgarians to leave," I said, clearly exploiting their dislike for the Armenian.
"Ha… ha… the Armenian is troublesome," the officer commented.
"Difficult… difficult… the Emperor wouldn't look kindly on me allowing that," the strategos said, folding his arms. "I can offer that you use your money to fund the equipment of some new themata and have them guard your workshop."
"If they remain under Grigor's command, it's the same thing, my strategos. My forge will be left undefended. Believe me… no one hates the Bulgarians more than I do. I was their prisoner for over eleven years, subjected to slavery by those pagans. Allow me to establish a force to defend myself, and I will at least ensure the Evros remains secure," I said calmly.
"What do you think—could it work?" the strategos asked, turning to his aide.
The officer stepped closer and whispered something in his ear. I watched as the strategos slowly began to smile.
"Tell me… your name?" Strategos Leon asked.
"Basil, my strategos," I replied.
"Basil… look, we're having trouble recruiting for the thema. At the moment no one can afford full equipment; many are still rebuilding their homes," he said, folding his arms. "So I'll offer you a mercenary contract under the thema's authority. I'll pay one silver coin per month for each head you provide to the army, up to a maximum of one hundred. But don't expect any support from the thema: you equip them, you pay them. I only offer this payment to comply with imperial regulations requiring all wages to appear as paid by the Emperor."
"One miliaresion per month? The standard wage is four per month… don't you think that's a bit low?" I asked, staring at him.
"You were going to pay them out of your own pocket anyway, so don't come demanding more… or I won't grant permission," the strategos replied with a crooked smile.
"Of course, my strategos. I only wished to point it out," I said. "I'll ensure they're well equipped, with good-quality steel. I won't let the Bulgarians do as they please on these lands."
The strategos nodded.
"Secure the stretch of the Evros near your forge and we'll be fine," he said, handing me a papyrus with the terms written out and sealing it with melted wax.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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