Tales of the Iron Crown - Italy without the Feudal Anarchy
- Thread starter Catherine the Average
- Start date
Quick update - sorry about the delay but don't worry, I'm still working on the timeline, I just have a lot on my plate right now. Read you soon!
I have a small question, but how likely is it for Lambert to decide to no longer tolerate the Muslim presence in Traetto ( which lasted in Otl from 883 until 915 ) and decide to definitively expel them from the peninsula, in an anticipated version of the battle of Garigliano Otl , so as to avenge the sack of Rome and the siege of Gaeta in 846, and the destruction of Montecassino in 883 ( as well as numerous lootings in the surrounding area ) given that in Otl numerous failed attempts were organized prior to the battle to drive out the Saracens residing there ( the most important in 903, 908 and 910 ) this should once again strengthen his position as ruler both internationally and internally within the kingdom
PS
Don't worry about the fact that you can't answer me right away, I can understand it, ok
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901-902 - Thunder on the Horizon
Lambert I: Thunder on the Horizon (May 901-August 902)
--- Lambert I: When in Rome (May-September 901) ---
Though a diplomatic success rarely packs the same punch as a military one, especially when the armies faced each other and then turned their backs at the same time, emperors Lambert of the West and Leo of the East could scarcely say themselves unsatisfied.On the Greek end of things especially, the speed and resolve at which the king of Italy had moved to defend their shores in time of need from the grasp of the dreadful emir Ibrahim was seen – though they would have despised admitting it – as the beginning of a new cooperation between the two Romes as equals.
Within the Byzantine court, who stood most to benefit was likely the Mystic’s faction, centered around the Ecumenical Patriarch Nicholas, whom we will further discuss later, and his associate, the experienced general Andronikos Doukas – both characters of great repute and growing influence. The duo, along with the many at court who much preferred an ally in the West to vapid dreams of a return in arms to Italy, had long been proponents of an alliance with Rome.
Where the military man was interested in the political aspect of the alliance first and foremost, as he saw a deadlock of the Mediterranean as the only way to not just safeguard the Byzantine coasts, but recover bulwarks like Crete or Cyprus, Nikolaos viewed it as an excellent chance to patch things up with the West, following the conciliatory work of his predecessor Antonios.
Back West, the emperor of Spoleto was almost equally pleased. The alliance with Leo had been virtually convalidated, and none of his knights had to die for it. His (regrettably unnamed) personal biographer describes something of a victory lap across the south, being welcomed in triumph by the citizens of Reggio, then Cosenza and Tursikon before re-entering his territory in Benevento on June 2nd – the day of Pentecost.+
It was then that this victory lap was interrupted by the arrival of most dire news from the Eternal City. Two weeks prior the city, seemingly overnight, had burst with revolt against Leo V, who was made Pope with Lambert’s blessing almost exactly a year earlier. The revolt had been instigated by Cristoforo, a cardinal whose alleged motive was the great injustice that a non-Roman should sit on Saint Peter’s throne.
This level of indignation, especially odd because late-burst, can be attributed to the fact Cristoforo himself had been passed over for the Holy See, and the support it received to the opportunistic Roman elites, who may have seen in this revolt a surefire way to rid their city of the emperor and his Pope in one fell swoop.
The timing of the revolt, of Leo’s deposition in absentia – in the confusion, the Pope had managed to escape back to his Ardea – and of Cristoforo’s coronation as antipope Cristopher I was almost certainly due to the assumption that Lambert’s war with the moors would keep him busy for the rest of Summer. Unfortunately for them, the campaign had resolved itself far more quickly than anyone could have imagined, which net the emperor a precious element of surprise.
Before he could depart, Lambert had one more request out of his host, Atenulf; that the soldiers he’d lent him to fight the Moors could come with him north and dispel the volatile rebellion. The prince of Benevento was happy to aid his liege, but with one, simple request in exchange.
For about twenty years, a colony of Saracens had formed at the mouth of the Garigliano river, over the ruins of the Roman city of Traiectum. This group had found its place in the thick patchwork of Italian potentates, but also frequently made incursions along the coastline and the course of the river, as destructive mercenaries, savvy political actors or simple reavers.
The dislodgement of this colony had been one of Atenulf’s primary goals since the first years of his rise to power; thus, his request was that the emperor, once Rome was relieved, would fulfill his duties as defender of the faith, prevail over the moors and conquer the settlement in the name of the cross. Hesitant, to the point that his departure from Benevento was delayed for days, Lambert eventually accepted, promising that the colony would fall ‘as soon as it was in his power to make it so.’
With this promise in order, the emperor could safely depart north, with the same retinue as when he’d arrived. After a quick detour to pick up the exiled Pope in Ardea, by the halfway point of the month Lambert was face to face with his rebellious capital-to-be. News of his early return had preceded him, but not by enough to fully anticipate his sudden appearance just outside the Aurelian walls.
After the emperor’s demand to enter the city and reinstate the righteous pope was rejected, he resolved to settling down for a siege, however long it may take, not before promising the rabble-rousers, chiefly their antipope – nothing new for the catholic church, yet only the third in the history of the Carolingian monarchy and the first to take power by force in the middle of another pontificate[A] – ‘a punishment to match not his ire, but God’s disdain for them.’+
With that, Lambert encamped himself on Monte Mario, in sight range of the Leonine city – a portion of the walls added by Leo IV in the wake of a particularly harsh Saracen raid, both heavily fortified from the outside and the perfect door into Rome from the inside – and patrolled his troops around the city to ensure none of the traitors could leave. In particular, the emperor feared that an envoy could somehow make his way to a foreign court across the Alps, and that one of his enemies – principally the ambitious sovereign of Provence, Louis I – could heed that invitation and call his right to rule into question.
After several tense weeks of siege, as the emperor was seemingly losing hope of reinstating Leo within the year, a breakthrough shook the siege in late July: ‘an imprudent sentinel, emboldened by the height of the walls, started raining injurious words on the pious sovereign, on his soldiers and on his pope, which besides was theirs as well. The reply was to match, and soon both sides were casting insults at each other in the tenths, then dozens, then fifty and more. Soon insults turned into stones from above and arrows from below, until some daring soldiers propped up ladders and started an assault of their own initiative.’+
The emperor rushed in, drawn by the clamour, and led the charge, capturing the Leonine city and routing the guards back to the Tiber. In a matter of hours, the city had been taken and Cristopher’s reign ended unceremoniously. Pope Leo was then triumphantly escorted into his city, and it became his rival’s turn to flee the city. He would die the following year, of unknown causes – though perhaps recognised while he tried to cross the Alps in disguise, returned to Rome and stoned.+
The rest of the revolt’s perpetrators did not suffer a much better fate: save for those who had been cast aside by Cristoforo’s administration, such as Crescenzio Crescenzi and his son Giovanni, who had left the city shortly after its hostile takeover, many among the aristocracy were dispossessed of their properties, incarcerated or exiled from the city.
After everything was set back in order, the remaining aristocrats were summoned in assembly by the reinstated pontiff. This gathering was hardly held on neutral ground: the location chosen by the pontiff was Castel Sant’Angelo, at the inner gates of the Leonine city – once known as Hadrian’s mausoleum, and at the time the stronghold of the superista Theophylact and his family.
In the immediate aftermath of the revolt, the famous Theophylact, who had opposed Lambert’s choice of Leo as pope, was hardly affected by any of the punishments that befell the rebels, and it was left unclear by historians whether he’d been involved or not in the rebellion. Due to this omission, it is likely that he was involved, but had somehow managed to deflect the blame and stabilise the situation for himself.
His family’s wealth would not survive completely unscathed, however. The subject of the assembly was the pope’s own safety: enlightened by the harrowing experience of attempted usurpation, Leo realised the pope could not be safe in his own city without great precautions. For that reason, he decided the pontifical residence should be transferred from the Lateran palace to Castel Sant’Angelo.
The reason for this did not simply boil down to the Leonine city being better defended than the Lateran. The palace had suffered considerable amounts of moral and physical damage in the past, first being damaged by Gothic, Lombard and Saracen incursions, then being torn asunder by an earthquake in 896 before becoming something of a grotesque stage for the infamous Synod of the Cadaver and Leo’s own attempted overthrow.
‘It was clear to all that, evidently, God did not wish anymore for the pope to reside between Constantine’s ancient walls,’+ which was retroactively identified as the true reason Leo IV had created the Leonine city. This was received with murmurs of assent from the assembly, but it remained to be seen whether Theophylact would be willing to selflessly leave behind Castel Sant’Angelo for the good of the faith.
The pope’s original idea had been to let Theophylact have the still prestigious Lateran palace, but the superista was uneager to swallow the bitter pill: he pointed out that the palace was in need of severe renovation, which was part of the reason the pope was moving in the first place, and the costs to recondition it would add on to the not insignificant costs of moving his family there.
To convince him, fortunately, came Lambert himself, who offered to cover part of the costs himself and mollified him by promising to reward his sacrifice by bestowing him, pope consenting, with coveted and prestigious titles, such as vestararius, judex palatinus and even senator. The offer, by all accounts, was favourable for the aristocrat, who wound up reluctantly not giving up Castel Sant’Angelo, but ‘leasing it in perpetuity to the Vatican saints, Peter and Paul, for them to do as they pleased.’+
By September, Leo had taken root at his new manor, which by virtue of its strategic position offered as many advantages, if not more, as Lambert’s own: primarily, it offered a perfectly defensible position, as the castle was famed for being impregnable, privileged access to the shrines of saint Peter and saint Paul and, should the castle ever not live up to its name, even a convenient escape route through the Tiber.
Similar boons would be accessible to the newly established figure of custos palatinus, the man in charge of ensuring the unbreakable castle was to remain unbreakable, not to mention in charge of the palace guard. This figure would obviously hold plenty of sway in Rome, with good chances of becoming the city’s third authority after the emperor and the pope themselves. For that reason, both Theophylact and Crescentius raced to obtain it, but both were passed over by pope Leo, perhaps encouraged by Lambert, who, inspired by his predecessors, selected one of his distant kinsmen – Cornelio dell’Airone, or Cornelius Ardeatinus, a scion of Ardea’s own aristocracy who had distinguished himself in battle against the Saracens and thwarted one of their raids.
Eventually, Cornelio ended up marrying Theophylact’s daughter Maria, and from this union the noble family of the dell’Airone (with-the-Heron) was born. By virtue of Leo’s comparatively long pontificate, Cornelio’s political savvy and the prestige accrued from Leo’s eventual sanctification, the Ardeatini would go on to be major influences in Rome’s court politics, entering the files of its aristocracy practically overnight and becoming the newest piece in Italy’s complex puzzle of potentates.
--- Leo VI: Keeping up with the Eastern Romans… (901) ---
Prior to the good news from Reggio, 901 had been a time of grief for the Byzantine Empire, first with the death of the pious and capable Ecumenical Patriarch Antonios Kauleas. By Leo’s decision, Antonios had been succeeded by Nicholas the Mystic: a stern, self-made and equally spiritual man, as well as a long-time member of his circle of intellectuals – practically perfect for the job.Not even a month later, however, Leo greatly regretted his choice when his third wife, Eudokia Baïana, died giving birth to a stillborn son. This obviously threw a wrench in the emperor’s dynastic plan, as his only daughter was scheduled to marry a foreign emperor (not prince, emperor) and his male next-of-kin was his infertile brother Alexander, wholly dedicated to alcohol and excesses and whom Leo, along with the imperial court, largely preferred to ignore.
This precarious situation left Leo with no other choice than trying to squeeze a fourth marriage – when a third one had already been uncanonical – out of the notoriously headstrong man he’d just placed in charge of the Ecumenical Patriarchy. Leo did have a mistress, the ambitious Zoe Karbonospina, and she was already showing the first signs of pregnancy, but that meant nothing unless he managed to wed her.
Other than his obvious desire to adhere to canon law, which remained officially his opposition to Leo’s remarriage, Nikolaos saw promise in the marriage between Anna and the western Caesar Lambert, hoping the spawn of that union could potentially unite the two Romes and finally bring the churches back to their natural order.
Besides these dynastic issues, the empire’s easternmost provincials were still celebrating the defeat of the emirate of Tarsus earlier in 900, along with the capture of its emir and the routing of its army. Cilicia’s weakened position had allowed local magistrates and generals, under the leadership of proconsul Lucius and general Orestes of Charsianon, to formulate more ambitious expansion plans eastward.
In general, Byzantine military action around this time can be interpreted as a desire to leave behind the disconnected Western provinces, such as the tatters of Sicily and the undefended coasts of southern Italy, and prepare instead for indefinite war with the Abbasids and the Persianates of the east. Examples of this can be seen when comparing the unresponsiveness of their military policy in Italy and the successive invasions of Cilicia and Armenia from these years.
--- Charles IV and Ludwig IV: …the Franks… (901-902) ---
The history of the West and East Francian kingdoms becomes blurrier than ever in this very phase of the tenth century, for rather similar reasons.In the case of what would become France, the rule of Charles the Simple was written off even and especially by his contemporaries as that of a slothful, uncharismatic ruler progressively handing off powers and authority to his scheming second-in-command – Robert, duke of the Franks. This led to many details from his personal rulings and decisions being left behind, and the heavy documentation we do have being administrative, focused on establishing direct control and an early form of borders. This process was further accelerated when his mother, Adelaide Geroldonen, passed in 902, leaving Charles to depend almost entirely on Robert and referring the rest of his vassals to him, in practice making him a figurehead and the duke of the Franks the effective ruler.
The only man who could hope to dislodge Robert was the mighty marquis Richard the Justiciar, ruler of the duchy of Burgundy proper and one of the kingdom’s most influential feudatories. The marquis was a chivalrous figure, recorded as the defender of the commoners against brigands and the excesses of local nobility. He also held a strong sway at court through his sister Richilde, the king of France’s grandmother and, despite her age, still influential and in full control of her wits.
With Germany/East Francia, we encounter a not so different story – poor eight-year-old king Ludwig IV, mostly referred to as ‘das Kinde’ (the Child) even by his coevals, couldn’t hope to maintain a greater degree of control than even his French counterpart. Though he’d been crowned first king of East Francia and then king of Lotharingia, making him in theory the ruler of a realm more vast and plentiful than any other in Europe, that realm was riddled with power-hungry, feuding men who bowed to him for the sake of convenience.
The most gruesome feud among them was between House Babenberg and House Konradiner, two families who vied for control of the duchy of Franconia and influence over king Ludwig. House Konradiner is notable for being tied by kinship to king Arnulf, meaning they held the most sway at the imperial court, and none were more influential than the nominal Franconian duke Konrad the Elder, the family’s patriarch.
Konrad had the support of the kingdom’s foremost religious authorities, Solomon of Constance and Henry’s regent Hatto von Reichenau, archbishop of Mainz. Hatto in particular is not remembered fondly by historians: his legacy is that of a prince-bishop, a layman in religious vestment whose authority was backed by steel more often than righteousness.
Solomon himself was involved in the brutal conflict in Alamannia, where count palatine Erchanger was slowly building a realm for himself. His main opponent there was the Swabian duke Burchard, hindered by the bishop’s influence and Erchanger’s ability in arms. Their feud in the south mirrored the conflict between Babenbergs and Conradines in the north, though on a smaller scale.
Likewise, north and south also shared a peaceful behemoth to balance out the neighbouring conflicts. The north had Saxony, where the illustrious and honourable duke Otto maintained a tranquil climate and looked to be the best candidate for Ludwig’s succession, by simple virtue of being the last man standing. It was primarily Otto’s backing which held the union together, as well as the warlike vigor of his southern counterpart, the Bavarian margrave Luitpold.
Luitpold had been the kingdom’s shield in the east since his accession in 889, being the man in charge of thwarting Moravian and now Magyar expeditions into Germany proper. This had obviously become more and more difficult as the unrelenting Magyars marched westwards; their occupation of Pannonia had been swift, and now the easternmost regions of the kingdom were at their complete mercy. Since the Bavarian margrave’s troops were consistently overstretched or insufficient, the Magyar problem was unlikely to be taken down in the short term, as many in the realm tentatively wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to make good on emperor Lambert’s truce with the eastern invader and yield to his protection.
A different case entirely can be made for Lotharingia, the German kingdom’s westernmost region: if Ludwig’s power was tenuous in Germany, word of his feeble proclamations was barely ever heard past the Rhine. The kingdom, once the centre of Charlemagne’s empire, had too succumbed to the fragmentary nature of feudalism, as endlessly squabbling potentates took turns expanding at each other’s expense and the crown’s authority existed only in name.[1]
--- al-Mu’tadid and Ibrahim II : …and the Arabs (901-902) ---
This was also a chaotic time for the Arab world, and not just due to the unusual turnabout in Sicily. 901 had confirmed the establishment of the Sajids as the ruling dynasty of Adharbaijan, another tatter of the crumbling Abbasid empire affirming its independence under a Turkic family of governors, and this was a sign of the greater political process of regional emancipation from the central government in Baghdad.Many influential and ambitious figures at al-Mu’tadid’s court were Turkish generals, invited or captured from Central Asia and rising to high ranks due to their set of skills. Such men included Tughj ibn Juff and Muhammad ibn Ishaq, both second-generation strongmen with ambitions to establish themselves as independent warlords.
To be precise, Tughj had defected to become the governor of Damascus on behalf of the Abbasid rivals, the Tulunid dynasty of Egypt, but it mattered little who he served as long as they were winning – and under the leadership of the Egyptian emir Harun ibn Khumarawayh, it was unlikely that the Tulunids would be winning for much longer. He had defected once and could defect again.
In the meantime, a second framework of alliances and allegiances lay just beneath the surface. Within the capillaries of the Sunni organism flowed Shi’ite spies, agitators and assassins, preparing for the overthrow of the caliphal establishment and the enthronement of one of their own. One such plan was being carried out within the mountains of the Kutama
people, at the edges of the Aghlabid amirate, by Abu Abdallah al-Shi'i, a Qarmatian convert who had traversed the Arab world, followed a party of Berbers back from their Hajj and established himself as their leader.
In 901, Abdallah declared war on Ibrahim, emir of the Aghlabids, but his cries of war were left unheard and unanswered; by the time of his revolt, Ibrahim had already received the troubling news of his dismissal from the position of governor, the order to deliver himself to Baghdad and leave his son Abu’l-Abbas in charge. Seemingly distraught, the emir made a great show of repentance, remitting tributes, opening his jails, manumitting slaves, abolishing taxes and distributing a large chunk of his treasury to the needy.
In late 901, he recalled his son from his campaigns in Sicily to hand over power, and in March of 902 he stepped down from power officially, making Abu’l-Abbas governor in his stead. With that, he immediately took the army his son had brought back from Sicily, along with thousands of his own, and proclaimed that he would amend his faults by embarking on a great Jihad. In the past twenty-five years, Ibrahim had accomplished grandiose feats as a general, ruler and statesman. Now, however, he wanted to make his legacy with one final quest – the complete annihilation of the Roman Empire.
His plan was to sail north, finish the conquest of Sicily, traverse the straits, ransack Reggio and occupy the entire southern Italian coast. Then he would cross the straits again, this time into Greece, besiege Constantinople and conquer it for Islam, before finally making his way to Baghdad through a campaign in Anatolia and delivering Byzantium to Dar al-Islam.
Obviously, this project was ambitious to say the least, but Ibrahim believed in his capabilities as commander enough that he believed the operation was possible. He knew of Byzantium’s naval weakness, suspected treasonous officers would pave his way if he lined their pockets enough and had seen that the Byzantine army was in no shape to stand up to him. That, and he was arguably insane.
Ibrahim’s departure was advertised well in advance, so that the east would tremble in his wake. Obviously the treacherous Byzantine emperor was his target, but the mujahideen hoped his campaign would make the caliph rethink his words when the righteous army presented him with a toppled empire and the city of the world’s desire. As he prepared to sail from the pearly shores of Tunisia with the emirate’s most valorous soldiers, oblivious to the rebellion brewing among the Kutama, Ibrahim knew he was embarking on his greatest campaign yet.
--- Lambert I: The Crescent and the Sword, Part 1 (902) ---
The emperor of the West had spent the winter in Rome, preparing for the hardships of his Spring campaign. He was not concerned with the mad tyrant or his army in Africa – he had no way of knowing – but with the promise made the year prior to his second-in-command Atenulf. The colony on the Garigliano had to be destroyed and quickly, lest word got out that the emperor didn’t keep his word.In April, Lambert left the Eternal City at the head of a powerful army – the same that had accompanied him from Benevento, along with retinues borrowed from the aristocracy loyal to him – and marched south. Word got to Atenulf, who also departed from the south, unwilling to let all the glory fall upon the emperor’s crest.
Between April and May, several isolated skirmishes took place along the course of the river, until the Saracens were forced to re-enter their settlement and dig in for a protracted siege. Notably, a Byzantine general from the Melissenos family had been summoned before the campaign – it is uncertain whether by Lambert or Atenulf – to guard the coasts of the colony and prevent the Saracens from escaping or receiving supplies via the sea.
After the brutal failure of an attempted sortie,+ the colony’s governor Alliku left the city’s walls to negotiate the safety of his men, especially the women and children. Moved to pity, the emperor offered relatively lenient terms, demanding only that the loot collected over the years be left behind and that the settlement be abandoned, while giving the defeated the option to convert or to sail away. The near entirety of the city’s population, led by Alliku, embarked for Sardinia,+ where similar settlements were already present.
The empty city was emptied of its spoils, which was distributed to its previous owners when possible and otherwise reappropriated by the church, and set fire to by Atenulf himself. Over its ruins, the monastery of Montecassino funded the reconstruction of ancient Minturno, which was a highly fought over due to its sought-after location between the Montecassino abbots, the princes of Benevento and hypatoi of Gaeta.
In June, once again, Lambert and Atenulf went their separate ways; the errand was run and the favour was returned. Pope Leo, who had seen the first of the Traiectum raids in his infancy, is said to have been particularly overjoyed. As usual, the celebrations in the west over their shining victory were far bigger than the desperation of the Arab world, as it is unclear whether news of the colony’s founding even made it to Baghdad before it was destroyed.
This may have also been on account of Lambert’s expedition being trounced in relevance by the landing of Ibrahim’s army in Trapani that very June. His Jihad began the moment he encountered the first Byzantine contingents on the island, as the city of Naxos saw the first battle of what would be known as Ibrahim’s Jihad. Word of the holy war and the mad emir’s promise to topple the Romes spread like wildfire, and the world held its breath as two legends – a boisterous young king turned great emperopr and the cold, calculating foe of Rome – were set to meet.
Of course, when news reached the Eternal City, Lambert was all but pleased. The emperor, quite like his soldiers and generals, had spent his decade-long reign embroiled in nothing but constant war – with Arnulf, with Berengar, with the Magyars, with the Saracens, with his own capital – and had admittedly grown weary of embarking in yet another expensive campaign every few months, to defend every last scrap of his ever so contested birthright.
The news were, however, followed closely by the arrival of envoys from Reggio, Tursikon, Bari and the major cities of the south, all terrified at the prospect of Ibrahim’s conquest. Begrudgingly, since he knew he could not turn them back with nothing, Lambert accepted their pleas and confirmed his protection, reassuring them that “any man who bears arms against you bears arms against Rome.”
These somewhat conforting words, which lacked any backing by immediate action, were not enough to fully placate the legates of their worries, who returned home unsatisfied and nervous. Decidedly more heartening was the patrol of Melissenos and his navies, and his arrival, along with that of the governor of Calabria, Michael Charaktos, to aid Constantine Karamallos, commander of the stronghold of Taormina – the last in the eastern empire’s grasp.
Along with them was even Eustathios Argyros, the droungarios – meaning commander – of the entire Byzantine navy; a man who had distinguished himself under Nikephoros Phokas the Elder and had been known to carry out the empire’s dirty work in situations deemed desperate, such as his campaign of the Danube to aid the Magyars in their war against the Bulgars, in a last ditch attempt to contain the growing power of tsar Simeon. While his presence was worrisome precisely due to this reputation, it was also a sign that emperor Leo was doing everything in his power to keep his foothold in Sicily and the cities of the Mezzogiorno safe.
This dispatch of great names and significant forces had been fielded specifically to counter Ibrahim’s assualt and contain it, while Lambert arranged for reinforcements. It was a crucial time to maintain his promise and defend the south, especially since his betrothed, Anna, was now considered of age for marriage[Β]+ and, if his aid came to fruition, their wedding would have surely been in sight.
Fate would have it that Eustathios was the principal opponent of Leo’s political strategy in Italy. In 891, he had been responsible for the capture of Benevento[2], and as the tensions between Romes softened he remained a vocal advocate for the pursuit of reconquest before of reconciliation. To him, waiting for some white knight to take charge of the empire’s defence was humiliating, especially when the enemy was constituted by a rambling old lunatic and his rabble of slave-fanatics.
This attitude meant that, when in the last days of July Ibrahim’s army surrounded the city, Eustathios was less than inclined to wait for that white knight. Riling up his troops with talks of achieving glory and toppling their enemies in God’s will, on July 31st the admiral then organised a sortie, ignoring orders from Constantinople to wait for reinforcements, and triumphantly marched out against the emir’s mujihadeens.
The battle was tense, as the two armies were rather evenly matched. Ibrahim, cognisant that defeat was not an option, surveyed the battle attently from behind the ranks. As soon as it seemed the Greek army was ready to prevail, the emir left the back rank and began reciting verses from the Quran: his voice thundered over the clamor of the battlefield, and soon after his soldiers began to repeat after him.
Imploring divine intervention, Ibrahim then readily entered the fray, ready to fight himself. Despite his age, sources describe his leonine vigour and wrath, as well as his precision in striking down soldiers. He soon made his way to the thick of the battle: with his help and the morale boost of his words, the battle was a complete Arab victory.
The battle of Taormina was a complete disaster for the Byzantine empire. Discouraged by the heavy losses, all commanders fled the battlefield, with the higher-ranking and the cowardly – curious how often the two overlap – quickly sailing off, in the vain hope of preparing a counteroffensive, and those left behind leaving the city to its devices and entrenching themselves in Castelmola, a nearby fortification constructed by Karamallos for that explicit purpose.
Ibrahim entered Taormina as the unquestioned master of Sicily. What defences remained to defend it fought valiantly, but they were massacred, along with many women and children, as the rest of the population was sold into slavery. When Procopius, the city’s bishop, refused to submit to Islam, he was tortured and decapitated, his body burned with the rest of the victims of the battle.
On July 31st there had been hope that the stronghold would ensure a Byzantine presence on the island for decades. On August 1st, 902, Sicily was Arab.[3]
When news reached Constantinople of the crushing defeat, Leo was distraught. The largest Byzantine army seen on the island in years had been vanquished just like that. Eustathios was rightly blamed for his negligence, pigheadedness and even for treason, for which he and those who had fled with him were to face execution. The intervention of patriarch Nicholas prevented this, but the droungarios was still stripped of his position and confined to a monastery.
The reaction was almost equally troubling in Rome, where Lambert realised it was his duty to step in and protect the coasts from the formidable emir. Immediately the emperor once again called for the aid of his southern subordinate, the reliable Atenulf, and began assembling his own troops, reminding the appalled Roman aristocrats that it was his duty and his task as much as theirs to maintain his word – “when an emperor makes a promise, it is a promise of the empire.”[C]
While Lambert’s army assembled and local governors reorganised their forces, standing near the burning rubbles of the last Byzantine stronghold in Sicily, the victorious general, Ibrahim, gazed upon the straits of Messina. On the other bank, the city of Reggio, which his son had been too cowardly to conquer, still proudly stood in his way to the rest of Italy. The world needed changing, he thought, and he was the tool of change. It mattered little to him if one, two or a thousand emperors were against him. He was history’s darling, the hand of fate, the scourge of the heathen gods, and he would triumph no matter what.
Footnotes
Canon[A]: Both previous antipopes from the Carolingian era, John ‘VIII’ and Anastasius ‘III,’ had been the pope-elect’s opponent in an election and dubbed antipopes only after their defeat and exile/execution.
[Β]: Due to holes in Byzantine sources, Anna’s age isn’t perfectly clear: Simeon Metaphrastes writes that Leo met her mother, his future second wife Zoe Zoutzaina, and fell in love with her during the third year of his rule, meaning 889 - placing Anna’s birth year somewhere in 890. Other sources disagree, placing her birth almost two years earlier, and much later sources follow a different parentage, arguing that Anna was a fruit of Leo’s first marriage with the pious Saint Theophanu, and born shortly after her coronation in 886. Following these different accounts, Anna would’ve been between 13 and 17 in 903, when her marriage to Lambert was celebrated.
It's likely that age considerations were not Leo’s priority at the time; with the death of his wife and the lack of an heir, marrying off Anna as soon as possible was the best way at the time to guarantee some form of succession that didn’t involve his brother Alexander.
[C]: These direct citations from Lambert aren’t born of the Gesta Lamberti, but rather of a later text – which is traditionally credited to Lambert himself: the “Ars Regnandi et Diiudicandi de Rebus in Terra,” typically shortened to just Ars Regnandi or “the Art of Ruling” is a tenth century text with the goal of helping monarchs espouse their role as the connective tissue between the rule of God in Heaven and theirs, sanctioned by him, on Earth. The text also doubles as a source, using examples from the rule of Lambert to better illustrate its points.
Non-canon
[1]: Wouldn’t that be a sorry fate!
[2]: Note that this is not verified: Eustathios first appears in sources during the oubtreak of war in Bulgaria in 894, meaning an eventual early career in Italy, while plausible, is not backed up by historical evidence.
[3]: Save for the mentions of Lambert, the previous paragraphs are a nearly one to one account of the real battle of Taormina, down to Eustathios ignoring orders to stay in the city and marching out against Ibrahim instead.
Sources:
+: unknown (ca. 950-955), Gesta Lamberti
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I know I'm spacing these out too much and I'm sorry but Uni leaves very little spare time - meaning my short attention span is only partially culpable >>
Don't worry, no problem, the long wait was more than compensated for, with a superlative chapter, the turn that the story is taking is very interesting ( between the conflict at the court of Constantinople between revascionists and pro-neo WRE ( including the pratriarch ), the absurd idea that came to Ibrahim's mind of a total Jihad against Rome, the events that are happening in the rest of the Frankish kingdoms ( in particular in East Frankia and Provence, which may become very attractive for Lambert in the future ) the population and the of the Roman aristocracy who, as usual, can never be calm for long periods of time ( after all, Leo was very lucky, to escape entirely, worse could have happened to him, just as what happened to Cristoforo ) were all welcome surprises, we hope that Lamberto manages with this umpteenth military campaign against the Saracens, to emerge definitively strengthened in his government ( both in internal and foreign politics, thanks to the possible new prestige deriving from the success and the imperial marriage with Anna, an event which was achieved in Otl only by the Ottonians, after numerous previously failed attempts starting from Louis the Pious onwards )
p.s
I'm hoping that the Giudicati can eventually take advantage of Ibrahim's defeat, to finally get rid of the Saracen outposts in Sardinia, so as to have our iconic flag in this scenario too and be able to shout : Dimonios !
Capture of Taormina - 902 (map)
Map of Europe and the Mediterranean after the capture of Taormina (01/08/902)
um, I have made no changes to Britain in the timeline so I may just have gotten a couple things wrong ^^'
I did call it Britannia because Edward the Elder has already been crowned King of the Britons, so that one is deliberate
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Interesting, I had never heard that, usually that title refers to a welsh/cumbrian/cornish ruler.
Its generally assumed that Cornwall was annexed in some form by wessex by the 890s at the latest, with the last known king being said to have drowned or been killed in some form. Strathclyde is the 3rd largest non-norse kingdom in Britain in OTL as well, for another century.