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Anno Domini 826, August-7-25
With forced marches and the use of draft wagons to move as fast as possible, we scattered caltrops along the way in case the cavalry decided to pursue us and ran into a bitter surprise. Using the Bulgarian roads to move quickly, we fell on the villages along the route like hawks. Most of the patrol groups had already moved on, so they had virtually no time to react.
The desperate screams of the Bulgarians were music to my ears.
There was nothing resembling a Roman manor here. These were simply occupied villages, with no important buildings—clear signs that no one had invested in them, or that some noble had chosen to concentrate resources elsewhere.
As I listened to the screams and watched from the center of the village while my men dragged Bulgarians out of their homes and gathered slaves for questioning, I saw something that cost me money.
One of the freed slaves had impaled a man with the spear we had given him.
"Hey, idiot! What do you think you're doing?" I shouted furiously when I realized I'd just lost a potential slave I could have sold.
The Greek turned, still gripping the spear tightly.
"I specifically said I didn't want slaughter," I grabbed him by his padded jacket. "That man could have been sold easily for ten nomismata. If I see you ignoring my orders again, I'll have you chained up so the Bulgarians can shove you back into a damn pen. Is that clear, idiot?" I said, raising my voice.
The man nodded, visibly terrified.
I drew my dagger and finished the job on the Bulgarian. With a spear through his stomach, it was only a matter of time before he died, so it was better to give him a quick death, driving the blade between his ribs straight into the heart.
Many people fled, and we didn't care whether they were slaves or not. For them, it was even better—they had a higher chance of escaping if they blended into the chaos.
We took every slave we could and all the supplies we found, and we were gone in less than thirty minutes. In and out—no careful house-to-house searches. Constant movement, fast looting, withdrawal.
By dusk we reached another Bulgarian village, where the same story repeated itself. Overconfident guards, delayed reaction, immediate assault. People fled in terror in every direction, and those who lagged behind ended up chained, joining the long line of bound captives hooked to the supply wagons.
This time we decided to spend the night in the village. If the Bulgarians attacked, at least we would have structures for cover. Besides, word had to be spreading already—we had captured a Bulgarian noble, and that wouldn't go unnoticed.
We posted guards and slept a few hours. The prisoners were left in the open, while some of our men rested in tents.
At dawn we distributed food to everyone, prisoners included. Another day of marching lay ahead.
We moved out again. Around the village only the former inhabitants remained, waiting for us to leave so they could recover what little was left of their property. But the place had been stripped bare; there was probably nothing of value left.
With no Bulgarians in sight, we resumed the march. If we kept up the pace, we could reach our camp before nightfall.
We advanced quickly, with much of the company riding on the wagons to conserve strength. I kept my eyes on the road when, after several hours of marching, I spotted several Bulgarian riders watching us from a distance, near the edge of a road.
I ordered caltrops thrown onto the route in case they tried to follow us with reinforcements.
And we kept moving.
I continued to observe as more Bulgarian cavalry began trailing us, though only in small, scattered groups. There was a single real attempt to attack us, and it ended quickly. The Bulgarians charged, and a volley of crossbow bolts fired from the wagons was enough to make them understand it was a terrible idea. A dozen dead was all it took for them to break off.
We stopped at another village where the Bulgarians had managed to warn the population in time to flee, so we simply looted the granaries and loaded everything we could before continuing on our way. By then it was obvious that Bulgarians were massing behind us, and that prompted some of the slaves to try to slow the march, taking advantage of the fact that everyone was tied together by ropes.
That was resolved quickly.
Those who caused trouble had their throats cut without hesitation, their bodies left where they fell. That was enough to keep the massive column of prisoners moving, even with salvation dangerously close at hand.
Another two hours of marching passed as dusk settled in. From time to time we stopped to cut the ropes of those who collapsed from exhaustion and finished them on the spot, preventing them from later joining the Bulgarians in search of revenge.
Until I finally recognized the road.
We passed through the village with the silver mine and, shortly after, entered the forests. There we had to push the wagons up the hills, while watching Bulgarian foot soldiers and riders begin to gather behind us. Even so, after several hours of pursuit, they still hadn't mustered enough men to challenge us.
They didn't even come close.
Between the five hundred men I had with me and the nearly thousand freed Greeks, we were a considerable force—too large for the Bulgarian patrols that were converging to dare to block our path.
As night fully fell, we finally reached the camp. Without delay we entered the fortress, which received us like victors after one of the longest marches I had ever led. Many prisoners died of exhaustion along the way.
Even so, we managed to bring back nearly fifteen hundred Bulgarian prisoners, despite the dozens who died, and we freed almost three thousand Greeks.
A raid too good to be true.
We quickly distributed everyone throughout the camp, keeping the prisoners confined in a designated area, sealing off part of the camp with stakes and placing the noble family in a prison to keep them locked away, while at the same time beginning to determine where most of the Greek slaves came from.
After brief conversations, it became clear that the vast majority were slaves born within the Bulgarian Empire, meaning that for the most part they had nowhere to go—which was wonderful.
There were many things to be done, but one of them was sleeping. We had marched for almost the entire day—we left in the morning and arrived at night—everyone exhausted from moving nonstop and staying ahead of the Bulgarians, who lingered in front of us for a while before eventually returning to their posts.
The next day, after long and uninterrupted hours of rest, we ate and I sent a group of my men to escort the Bulgarian prisoners back to Adrianople, while the Greeks were taken to my settlement. That way I cleared the area and reduced the consumption of local supplies.
Everyone was in good spirits. We had looted vast quantities of food and valuable metals, and after raiding several villages many had walked away with valuable items, in addition to emptying multiple local armories, which left us with a large stockpile of equipment.
If luck held, the Bulgarians could be sold for ten gold coins each. With the five hundred silver ingots alone I already possessed an enormous sum, so I could probably buy my own merchant fleet with a strong escort and make my living at sea.
A quiet week passed, during which heavily armed Bulgarian groups would occasionally appear, observe us, and then withdraw once they confirmed our position.
Until we saw the strategos' cavalry arrive, accompanied by several hundred of his cataphracts.
"BASIL!" the strategos said with a broad smile.
"So quickly your spies told you whom I captured?" I replied, seated as I weighed the silver we had taken.
"Holy Virgin," the strategos said as he stared at the massive pile of silver ingots. "You're completely unhinged, Basil—attacking in the heart of Bulgarian power, burning villages, taking so many prisoners, freeing slaves… all of that in what, three days?" he said with a laugh.
"Five," I replied, continuing to weigh the ingots. "Three going in, two coming back—though the return march was brutal."
"Well… well… you captured the brother of Isbul Kavhan, one of the most powerful Bulgarians in their realm. This time you struck hard. Last time you took the sister of his wife and her children, but now you truly hurt him. His brother was leading the raids in the area, and apparently you caught him when he returned to see his wife—caught him with his trousers down," the strategos said.
"So… what did I earn? Do you have the funds to pay me for him?" I asked, fixing him with my gaze.
The strategos looked at the wagon loaded with silver ingots and chests full of silver and gold coins, then raised an eyebrow at me.
"That's in my contract," I said with a smile. "Everything I loot is mine. I don't take part in the army's common plunder."
"You have more coin than I do, Basil… how about helping a good friend?" he said, smiling
"Of course. My help to a good friend will be spending all of this buying ships from the imperial navy to protect the coast of the Theme of Macedonia. So I can't do much more than that," I replied with a faint smile.
"Oh, come on… the Bulgarians are asking for terms. This time I'm keeping his brother's children, so that if there are more raids I can send their remains piece by piece to Isbul—or sell them back at an outrageous price to fund the construction of more kastro in the region and finally control the raids," the strategos said.
"Land, then," I replied with a grimace.
"I'll see what I can do. I'll have to ask the emperor for authorization—he may or may not be interested in a mercenary becoming a major landowner. A few plots are one thing; controlling a large region is something else," the strategos said, uncertain.
"And soon I'll have a large fleet," I added.
"Yes that too.... Use the land surrounding your plot according to your needs.. I'll send a request to the emperor for approval. If he agrees, I'll grant you whatever lands you deem appropriate in exchange for the prisoners."
"Fine. Let me draft a contract for this," I replied.
"Oh come on, Basil… a contract? Don't you trust me?" Skleros said, frowning.
"It's a promise. What if the emperor removes you from office? That way I can take it to the next strategos and have him honor the agreement instead of washing his hands of it," I replied.
"…You're right," Skleros conceded. "Draft it and I'll ratify it before a notary."
I wrote the contract quickly, leaving the exact value to be determined by me and tying the agreement to the office of the strategos rather than to Leon Skleros personally, as a precaution. Once it was signed and I handed him a copy, I turned the prisoners over to the strategos, who took them to his war camp.
I remained in the area for two weeks. This time Skleros took longer negotiating—now he held someone far more important than the sister of that noble's wife.
Eventually, another truce was agreed upon, though how long it would last only fate could say.
As we prepared to march, I began melting gold and crafting gold arm-rings, taking advantage of the silversmiths present who had been repairing equipment. They helped me create something similar to what was given back in his home, to present to the Varangians, since I understood it was a great honor to receive one.
As soon as I finished the first arm-ring—twisting the gold filaments around rods and letting them cool—it was ready.
"Sigurd, come here," I called, and he appeared instantly, falling silent as he looked at me.
"Here," I said, taking his hand and placing the arm-ring on his forearm.
He stared at it, and I saw his eyes light up.
"Thank you… kapetanios," the Varangian said.
"Nothing to thank me for. You fought like a bear out there. Here—this is extra," I added, tossing him a pouch of gold and silver coins. "Your share of the plunder."
"Thank you, kapetanios," Sigurd said, leaving the tent and resuming his position as my loyal guard.
After that, I began distributing part of the loot. I could afford to be generous with my men, handing out gold and silver coins, since the real value lay in the ingots.
I made sure everyone who participated received a reward, and I gave extra bonuses to those I had seen kill the most Bulgarians—to encourage them to keep doing so, especially the Varangians, who walked away with the heaviest purses, as they were usually the ones leading the charges against whatever stood in my way.
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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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