Last King of Kings-Chapter 4: Heraclius, Emperor of Romans

Heraclius, Emperor of the Romans was lying in his palace gardens in Constantinople, indulging himself in pleasure and relaxation, when he got the news of a new Sassanian Shahanshah being crowned. Reports said it is the grandson of his former rival Khosrow II., eight-year-old Yazdegerd III. He didn't let this moment to waste. He gathered his trusted advisors, both military and administrative, and held a discussion with them in private.

"This is a great opportunity, my Basileus! We should plan our attacks immediately!"

"Yes, I agree with magister militum Philippicus! This is a chance to defeat the persians once and for all! Do you remember how they even sieged our capital, Holy City of Constantinople few years ago?"

Voices both of agreement and disagreement with the former statements grew louder and louder. People shouting at each other with angry faces, one would think this is a tavern and these people didn't agree on what kind of cheese is better.

"Gentlemen, please, calm down. This is not how distinguished men such as yourself should be behaving. I didn't want to ask you of your opinions but inform you of mine."

This sudden interruption from the side of the Basileus stunned most of men present. They all looked in the direction of their Basileus, some hoping he can calm the situation down, some with disdain.

"I am not hoping to attack the Persians. Not now, when the empire is weak and her enemies sharpen their teeth, hoping to carve her land as their own."

Some men were relieved, some were outraged. Philippicus, a veteran of Roman-Persian conflict disagreed once again.

"But Basileus, what if the Persians attack? That could lead to another bloody war. We should ensure this doesn't happen by doing a pre-emptive strike and not giving them any chance!"

"With a child sitting on their throne? With their empire in shambles? No, my dear magister militum. They are in the same situation as we are. Weakened empire, unruly nobles and unhappy citizens. And now, when there are reports of Khazars preparing for another raids, reports of Arabs and that new religion of theirs uniting Arabia under its banner, no, my magister militum. This in not a time we attack our long-time rival. This is not a time of conquest. This is a time of survival, for both our empire and theirs."

Philippicus was stunned, same as any other man in the room. Some were perplexed and some nodded in agreement with their Basileus.

"I agree with you, my Basileus." suddenly, a man with a slightly darker skin started to talk. "I too am concerned about these Arabs. Reports say that they pledge to conquer and purge other religions, as theirs is the true one. But what do you plan to do?" finished the man. It was Jabalah ibn al-Aiham, king of Ghassanids, leader of the Arab Christians. He was a valiant general who fought against the Persians. The answer to his question didn't interest only him – every man in the room waited patiently for how will Basileus answer.

"You have every right to know this answer, king Jabalah. And I will answer you. I plan to send envoys to the young Shah, envoys bringing gifts and an offer. Offer of mutual cooperation."

Jabalah smiled and nodded in agreement whilst Philippicus and Nicetas, who expressed his support for Philippicus' idea of pre-emptive attack frowned. Nicetas still held a grudge against Persians, when he wasn't able to stop them from conquering Egypt, and he held that grudge even when Romans retook the Egypt back. He wasn't finished with them and wanted a revenge, but now, his plans were torn apart.

"This is my final decision. I won't let your shattered pride to get in a way of this. This is our best chance to hold our empire together, whether you like it or not, magister militum."

Heraclius has obviously noticed the outraged expression Philippicus wore, so he made sure he knows that it won't get him anywhere. After that, he dismissed the meeting, only Jabalah with Bonus, a close associate of Heraclius and his long-time friend remaining inside.

"My Basileus, was it necessary for you to insult magister militum so much? I worry that he will turn against you someday. He isn't a man to take this kind of insult lightly." said worryingly Bonus. Jabalah stood there silent, only listening.

"It was more than necessary. He still thinks that Romans are the invincible ones, even though our fame is long time gone. He still thinks we can go head on head with the Persians, even though our empire is weakened and in danger. This was necessary to bring him back to reality. Don't worry, I know him for a long time now. He will realize his mistakes sooner or later."

Bonus, evidently content with his Basileus' answer bowed and left the room. Jabalah stood there quietly for a while, maintaining eye contact with the Basileus. Then he sighed.

"I will have the envoys ready and sent from Syria, my Basileus."

Heraclius just nodded and both of them left the room, each one in a different direction.

Before Jabalah left Constantinople, he sent a letter beforehand, informing his subordinates to start the preparations for the envoy. When he wanted to leave, he was suddenly interrupted.

"King Jabalah, may I have a word with you?" a familiar voice could be heard behind him. It was Philippicus with Nicetas. He turned around and nodded, without saying a word. They led him back into the palace, quietly and suspiciously. But Jabalah brought his personal guards with him, so he was partially safe. Then they entered a room that could only be described as living quarters. There were two sofas and one armchair, both coated with silk. Between the two sofas were jugs of wine, four cups and plates filled with fruit of all kind. They sat down on a sofa, leaving Jabalah standing.

"My good sir, king Jabalah, sit down with us. I invite you." said Philippicus with a sweet voice. Nicetas immediately started gnawing on the grapes and chugging down the wine, as if to prove it isn't poisoned. Not that Jabalah suspected it. He reluctantly sat down and when he noticed the four cups, he felt a bit strange.

"Now we wait for our last guest. He should be showing up soon." said Philippicus in a relaxed tone. Jabalah had enough.

"What do you want from me, magister militum? Because I don't believe this to be just a friendly feast."

He sounded serious and angry, but that was to cover for his nervousness. Philuppicus looked at him a bit puzzled, put down the cup of wine he was holding and changed into a carefree expression.

"You think too deep into this, my friend. This is nothing but for our own pleasure. After all, we all deserve it, and I thought you too will be pleased with this stress reliever, before you go back to Syria."

Jabalah wasn't convinced but decided to let the issue go. After a while, the last guest arrived. It was one of the men who also participated on the meeting held by Basileus. His name was Vahan, a commander of Armenian descent, former magister militum per Orientem, or army marshal of the Orient. When he entered the room, he was quickly greeted by Philippicus and Nicotas. Jabalah also greeted him for decency's sake, but not as intensively as former mentioned. Vahan sat down, talked a bit with the three men, ate the fruit and drank the wine. After a while, when food was scarce and jugs lacked wine, Philippicus clapped his hands and maids and servants started to pour to the room, taking empty jugs and plates and putting down plates filled with food and jugs filled with wine. Jabalah could see where this will go, when lightly clothed girls started to come inside. He excused himself and quickly left, never looking back.