Making Rome Great Again or how I was born as Constantine IX, Emperor of the Romans ch 48 (Historical Fiction SI)

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The Chronographia - Basil II, The Victorious

The Emperor Basil allowed a period of respite to settle in the capital and in the wider empire. The Emperor had no desire to follow the mistakes of Maurice who had kept garrisons so far from home after years of campaign, and ordered the garrisons to rest and return home. Rome's enemies had been humbled, broken, and were in awe of the Emperor's power thus he had calculated that there was no need to maintain large armies, save for the maintenance of the forts and recovered territories. Those men that stayed were compensated for their service, to their delight. The absence of a campaign did not mean that the Emperor allowed himself to be idle for he began to touch upon issues which had been left unanswered in his years long absence from the Queen of Cities. 

An account was to be made on the revenues of state. Subtracted from the expenses of the armies, the fleet, and other drains, the Senate and People of Rome have a base revenue of 200,000 talents. Not withstanding the seized treasures amassed in Iberia and Arabia, all the riches found among the Celts or contained in the land of the Scythians. All were gathered together in one place and deposited in the Emperor's coffers. Since the vaults of the buildings made for this purpose were not big enough, he had spiral galleries dug underground, after the Egyptian style, and there he kept safe a considerable proportion of his treasures. A strict economy on the Palace, save the expenses of the Imperial House, had ensured stability. 

The treasury prepared, the Emperor ordered for the further restoration of the old highways which had connected our Imperium. The restoration of the Levant had imparted upon the Emperor a fierce determination to never let it fall again. Indeed, Rome had struck fear into the heart of the Saracen but time lets wounds heal and resentments simmer. Following that, the Emperor furthermore ordered the expansion of the navy. The strategoi, Nikephoros Ouranos, was promoted to the office of Droungarios tōn ploïmōn, and charged to see its great revival. Ouranos undertook the project with a huge sum, allowing for the construction of additional ships who could set sail as a full fleet within a span of ten years. 

​The Emperor thusly summoned Caesar to his office, and there, ordered Caesar to present to him a plan in expanding the Roman diet, having heard of, and likely read correspondence of developments in Moesia. Caesar did so, presenting a demonstration of his automata and planting style in the Imperial gardens before the court. He also presented to the court Bulgarian children and animals raised on his methods, comparing them side by side with children in the city, and local animals. The Emperor did so, inspecting them with a keen eye, then declared that his new method was to spread throughout the Empire, with the lands belonging to the Senate and People of Rome to try them out first. 

The Collegia complained immediately about the rapid adoption of methods, citing that the prices of food would fall drastically, and they would lose revenues. However, the Emperor rebuked them, and cited the necessity of securing food for the people. The Senators and other officials approved of the Emperor's rebuke, and the priests and the bishops did, for the Emperor was popular, and so was Caesar. The Emperor was far seeing, and calculated that the methods would increase the population of the Queen of Cities. Thus, he also ordered the expansion of neighbourhoods to accommodate them, and also to allow further housing the hoi polloi in the city of Constantine the Great. Caesar attempted to convince the Emperor in expanding the sea wall, and raising it higher but the defences were deemed sufficient, and the raising of it was unnecessary.  

The Emperor also sent an embassy to the land of the Rus, to the court of Vladimir, Prince of Kiev, for the raising of further Varangian regiments. The wars against the Bulgarians, the Saracen, the German, the Frank, and other enemies of Rome had cut into the armies. The Prince of Kiev acquised, and spread word that the Emperor was in needed of warriors. Many Varangians from the Land of Scania and the Rus came to be employed. 

In this period, news came from the West of unrest spreading throughout Italy, albeit directed at the enemies of Rome. With the King of the Germans locked as a guest of the Emperor, the Germans and the Franks became divided among those that sought to rule in his stead. Their regent, Matilda, faced significant rebellion among Otto's subjects, many were kinsmen to the King. 

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His finger tapped on his table, the spy had finished his report, and was looking upon him waiting for orders. Basil bid him to leave, and the man did so. His office had seen others come and go, but now only him and his Caesar remained. He looked like he was ready to say something. 

"Speak your mind," the Emperor commanded. 

"I think we should contact whoever the Italians crown as King, and recognize him as such," his Caesar suggested quickly. 

The Kingdom of Italy consisted of what was the North of Italy. Mediolanum and Ravenna were there, the old capitols of the West. And from what his own spies and officials could say, provided significant taxes towards the Frankish Kings. 

"You do not want to intervene?" Basil asked, his question rhetorical. 

Caesar shook his head. "We are already planning to seize Sicily, uncle. We will not have enough men for that. We can choose Sicily or the North."

​Basil rubbed his beard, eyes pooling at his desk. "And what would you choose?" 

"Sicily," Constantine answered quickly. "It is closer, and easier to defend." 

"Is that all?" Basil asked. 

Constantine elaborated. "Assuming we take over the North, we will have the entire ancient homeland to protect. We will have to deal with unruly Italians who are anxious for liberty, and vengeful Germans in the North who will not allow their taxes to be free of them. The Empire now is rich and powerful, yes, but resources can be stretched. We maintain our current plans, and simply support whoever the Italians choose will be less expensive than fielding even more soldiers." 

​Basil grunted his approval. 

That was sensible, at least. But...

"Do we know who they are?" Basil asked. "What if they accept our money, and choose to side with whoever wins in the German power struggle?" 

Constantine thought about it. "I think whoever wins will not command respect, in the short term at least. For one, their chief is still alive, with many more members of the court in our custody. The rebels are fools for rising, and they shall be an usurper for as long as Otto lives." 

"Or they will declare him a loser, and crown themselves anyway," Basil felt. "No man will simply stay to wait." 

"Some have loyalty, you know," Constantine replied. 

"They are loyal to power," Basil snorted. "Powerful men are loyal to that and what they want." He turned outside. "Even now, I know that men under us plot and scheme, just waiting for the opportunity to remove us from grace." 

"Some men are loyal, uncle," Constantine replied. "Loyal to something bigger than themselves, only if we can allow them to live while they do that." 

"There is not a lot of them, otherwise this would be a better life," Basil replied. "Now, let us talk what to do, this philosophizing bores me." 

Constantine cracked a smile, before a glare from the Emperor wiped it away. "Well, it is ultimately up to you, sire. As the Exarch of Italy, I must humbly beg that we remain within our plans. It would be better for the defense of the homeland if we have a buffer-zone to absorb damage, and letting it be someone else's problem. If the Germans breach, we will already have mustered our armies to defend Rome." 

Basil did think about it. He found his nephew's arguments sufficient. "We are not going North," the Emperor decided. "It will be too far for us to protect anyway."

​His uncle later dismissed him.

Constantine had been recalled to the capital far quicker than he expected. He had thought he could enjoy his vacation a bit more, and...other activities, but the duties of state would not rest. He felt he was peering through a looking glass, having little time for anything else but ruling and administration. This was one of the main reasons he wasn't so quick in becoming Emperor. It was a rough and thankless job that would stretch him to the limits. 

Really, no wonder his father decided to dump the whole business to his uncle. While short-sighted by most standards, what his father did was a very brave thing, to admit that they were useless, and to let other qualified people take up the mantle of state. 

He shook his head. He was going to be busy with far too many things today. The methods in Moesia were to be spread, and he already had instructed for the reproduction of manuscripts to make it easier and digestible for anyone in the Empire to read. And of course, there was another thing...

His path found him in a courtyard, a bevy of men standing at attention. They were a diverse class of men, some tall, others short, others a little bit too tall. They were fair-haired, hale, and hearty. Bright chainmail clittered over thick coats, and their spectacled helmets were hanging loosely from their belts, heavy Dane Axes resting against their shoulders.  

A new bodyguard for Caesar. Or rather, bodyguards. Miroslav's death had left a notable weakness in his own personal security, and considering that he was rising up, he was going to need someone that was absolutely loyal and capable to protect him. He had asked for a list of men who served with distinction before the walls of Rome. 

He got them. 

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Mikkelgard. 

It is the one place under heaven where a man could enter a poor farmer, and leave richer than their own kings. So of course, he saw an opportunity to make his mark. He stood at attention when he entered. He was tall, back ramrod straight, and his eyes were like the Emperor's, a blue that seemed to pierce one's soul when they looked at him. 

This was Caesar, the Purple-born. One day, he would be the Master of the World's Desire. 

​They were all told of course, that they would be paid well, and that two would be chosen. But that did not mean he was going to fail in his duty. He had his pride as a man and a warrior to measure up. Young, compared to the other men in his line, but that did not mean his bravery was any less. 

"You all know who I am," Constantine began, his voice calling them to listen. "And you were all told about your duties, I presume?" 

"Yes, Caesar," the Varangians replied, his voice adding in. He cursed himself from sounding a little weak. He was not going to fail his captain, not when he had risked much to get him to this position. He could do this, he hyped himself. He got it. 

Constantine began walking down the line, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes swept over each man, inspecting them with the precision of a craftsman examining his tools. He stopped before some, asking questions about their origins, their training, their families. Others he passed without so much as a glance. 

He felt his nerves crack as Constantine went closer and closer.

And he finally did. 

Do it proper, he told himself. 

"You're very tall," Constantine remarked, looking up at him. 

"My parents were productive," he joked. 

His stomach collapsed. His future here was over. 

Constantine however, smiled. "I can see that," he returned. 

​Was Caesar joking with him?

"Tell me, Varangian," Constantine clicked his tongue. "What makes you think you are qualified to be my man?" 

The joking voice was gone, replaced with a deep seriousness that reminded him of the Emperor. 

"I made you smile," the Varangian pointed out. 

Constantine raised an eyebrow. 

"And I am good. Very good. You tell me to break knees, and I will," the Varangian continued, his voice finding strength. "I will destroy your enemies, I will make them regret living. And I will do that with a smile." 

"With a smile?" Constantine asked again. 

​He smiled, out of nervousness. "Yes, Caesar," 

"I have errands to run today, and plenty more in the future," Constantine said. "This will be plenty dangerous." 

​Oh, what was he, a little maiden? 

"You will not know danger," the Varangian declared. "Or my name is not Thorkell of Denmark." 

Caesar laughed, reaching up, and patting the Norseman on the cheek. "Somehow, I do not doubt your vow, Thorkell." 

The giant of a man smiled. 

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A/N: It is a little too early to have a certain Norwegian Viking be our dude bro. But there is another fella who exists and can very much kick-ass. 

As for the 200K talents, I had gotten that figure from Psellus himself in the Chronographia. He did not lost down other sources of money, but he did say the treasury of defeated rulers and rebels. Considering Bulgaria had never exhausted itself fighting Rome here, the empire has access to the Bulgarian Empire's money.