The Walls of Byzantium (69 page)

Later, when the fire had gone out and the rain stopped, Luke and Omar sat on the walls of the monastery and waited for a new day to begin. Luke’s sword was leaning against his thigh. There was a single star left in the sky.

‘Kervan Kiran,’ Luke said, looking up. ‘Plethon’s star.’

Omar turned to him. He wore a clean white shirt and there were bandages around his head. His beard was curled and yellow at the edges and he smelt of herbs. He looked much older. ‘Have you decided what you are going to do?’

Luke remembered a conversation with this man not long ago.

‘
I was left a sword to take me to a treasure
.’

‘
Or to remind you that you’re a Varangian prince
.’

He said softly, ‘the sword had Mistra written on its blade, Omar. It was a message.’

The old man nodded. Just then, the sun crested the horizon with a suddenness that made both of them look out over the steppe. There was nothing there. But above, above in a sky still flecked with scattered rainclouds, there was another world, a giant, golden sea with islands in it and, thought Luke, a longship sailing towards them. He narrowed his eyes and stared. Siward. Miklagard.

Miklagard
.

He looked down at the sword hilt resting on his thigh. Siward’s sword. The dragon head was alive, its eyes glowing. It was looking up at him.

Suddenly he knew.

They’ve found the treasure
.

He turned to Omar. ‘Plethon’s found the treasure,’ he said. ‘I go to Tamerlane.’

HISTORICAL NOTE

The
Mistra Chronicles
take place in the late-fourteenth and early-fifteenth centuries and are set against a time of colliding empires. The empires were the Ottoman, Byzantine, Venetian and Timurid.

At the end of the fourteenth century, Europe was recovering from the Black Death, a plague that, in the 1360s, had killed one in three of its population. Yet among the city states of Northern Italy, there shone the new light of the early Renaissance, a light which expressed itself through ideas and art and was fostered by trade and exploration. It was the light that would lead, ultimately, to the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century.

In the east, a Turkish tribe from the Anatolian steppe, the Ottoman, had, by the time of this chronicle, conquered most of its neighbouring beyliks, much of what was left of the Byzantine Empire and crossed over to Europe. Sultan Bayezid came to the throne when his father Murad was murdered by a Serbian knight after the Battle of Kosovo in 1389, the battle at which the Ottomans first confronted Christian knights and defeated them. Bayezid then boasted that he’d sweep through Europe, that he’d water his horses at Saint Peter’s in Rome. He was
Yilderim
(‘Thunderbolt’), the Sword of Islam, and, after his
victory at Kosovo, it seemed that he might succeed. The Ottoman Empire was on the march westwards and it threatened to extinguish the new light of progress in Europe.

But to conquer Europe, Bayezid first had to conquer the Byzantine Empire and, in particular, the city of Constantinople. The Gates of Byzantium were the gates into Europe.

The Byzantine Empire was the eastern half and successor to the Roman Empire. It had split away from Rome in the fifth century after the barbarian invasions had overrun the western part. Its capital was Constantinople, built by the Emperor Constantine in the fourth century AD and still one of the greatest cities on earth, with huge walls that had only once been breached. At one time, the Byzantine Empire had held sway over much of Eastern Europe and the Middle East. But by the late-fourteenth century all that was left of the Empire was Constantinople and the little Despotate of Mistra. Constantinople was a city of empty palaces and ploughed fields, its population shrunk from a million to just fifty thousand. (Incidentally, no one called anyone or anything ‘Byzantine’ until the sixteenth century. At the time of this book, they would have called themselves
rhomaioi
, which is Greek for Roman. The ‘Byzantines’ very much saw themselves as the continuation of the Roman Empire.)

The Despotate of Mistra covered most of the area that is now the Greek Peloponnese and, for it, this was a period of prosperity and cultural flowering. Its twin cities of Mistra and Monemvasia became rich and their citizens built beautiful churches and palaces. Mistra had been built in the twelfth century close to the site of ancient Sparta while Monemvasia had, for centuries, been an important trading port between Europe and Constantinople, famous for its sweet wine, Malvasie
(or Malmsey in English). In these last decades of the Byzantine Empire, much of the artistic and cultural activity moved from Constantinople to Mistra and many important thinkers, such as Georgius Gemistus Plethon, came to live there.

By this time, the Byzantine army was no match for the vast forces that the Ottomans had at their disposal. Bayezid’s father, Murad I, had introduced the
Devshirme
, by which Christian boys were forcibly taken from the conquered villages of Eastern Europe and sent to Anatolia to be trained to fight in the Ottoman army. The best of these became
janisarries
, its elite fighting force.

The Byzantines’ own elite force was mostly a memory. The Varangian Guard had once been one of the finest fighting units in the world, renowned for their fearlessness in battle and use of the double-sided axe, the
distralia
. Originally recruited from Scandinavian countries, the Varangians became a largely English force after the Norman invasion of 1066 when many Anglo-Saxons fled England to seek their fortune overseas. Siward was indeed a Prince of Wessex and had sailed with his followers to the mythical city of Miklagard in the late-eleventh century to become the first English Varangians. The Varangian treasure is pure invention, although it is true that the Varangians got first pick of the spoils when an enemy city was taken and were allowed to fill their helmets with gold from the treasury at the accession of a new Emperor. They had their own church in Constantinople, and the giant sword of St. Olaf hung above its altar

The Venetian Empire, was born out of the Byzantine Empire. In 1204, Venice had persuaded the Fourth Crusade to besiege Constantinople on its way to regain the Holy Land in order to repay, from the pillage, the money owed them
for the boats they’d had built to ferry the crusaders to Alexandria. When Constantinople fell, (the octogenarian, blind Doge Dandolo leading the way), Venice helped itself to a large part of the Byzantine Empire and, in particular, the coastal cities and islands of the Eastern Mediterranean that would protect its trade routes. Much of the treasure of Constantinople was carried off to Venice, including the majestic bronze horses now in St Mark’s Square.

By the end of the fourteenth century, Venice was pulling ahead of its fierce trade rivals, the Genoese. Real loathing between these two republics had come to a head in 1378 when they’d gone to war. In it a Genoese fleet had actually entered the Venetian lagoon and, briefly, taken the island of Choggia. But Venice had ultimately won the war and then busied itself with trying to prise as much territory and trade as it could away from Genoa.

Chios was one of the few Mediterranean islands controlled by the Genoese, most of their maritime empire having been established in the Black Sea. It was held under a long lease from the Byzantine Empire by a joint stock company that was the first of its kind and a forerunner to Britain’s East India Company. The Mahona had been formed in the mid-fourteenth century by twelve Genoese families under the collective name of Giustiniani in deference to the great Byzantine Emperor Justinian. Its purpose was to exploit the trade of alum, mined in neighbouring Phocea on the Turkish mainland, which was the valuable substance used to fix dye in clothing. Its other purpose was to trade mastic and it is entirely true that Chios produced a kind of mastic found nowhere else in the world and that it became more and more valuable as a breath freshener (particularly in the
harem
), a wound sealant, an embalmer,
a medicine and for many other uses. In India it was used to fill tooth cavities but there’s no evidence that it was used elsewhere for this purpose, although the explosion of sugar consumption in the fourteenth century would have made it very welcome. The indigenous Greeks who worked in the mastic groves in the south of Chios were indeed the victims of Turkish pirate attacks in which their children were taken away for slavery. It is also true that, some time during the fourteenth century, the Genoese began to build a series of extraordinary maze-like villages in the south of the island which were intended to protect their workforce from the Turks. These ‘Mastic Villages’ can still be visited today in Chios and are truly marvellous to behold. The kendos festival described in the book takes place every year on Chios.

The fourth empire was that of Tamerlane, or ‘Timur-thelame’ as he was called at that time. Tamerlane was a Mongol, a successor to Genghis Khan who had laid waste much of the east two centuries before. His successor, Tsubodai, had brought the hordes to the gates of Europe and might have gone further were it not for the death of the Mongol Khan Ogedai which forced him to return home. Like Genghis, Tamerlane managed to unite the Mongol hordes and shape them into a terrifying and unstoppable instrument of terror. By this time, Tamerlane had swept across much of Asia, destroying everything in his path. Whether he would come west to take on Bayezid and, by doing so, relieve the pressure on Europe or turn east was the question being asked by every Christian king.

Into this mix came invention, the invention of cannon big enough to bring down the walls of Constantinople. Cannon had been around for a century at least but none were yet big enough to destroy walls of the size of Constantinople’s. There’s
no evidence that Venice built such cannon for the Turks, although its Arsenale certainly had a cannon foundry. The Arsenale was also beginning to mass-produce ships using assembly line methods never used before. They could well have been building ships for the Ottomans. Venice was a pragmatic republic, ready to profit by any means, as demonstrated by its behaviour in the Fourth Crusade.

The Walls of Byzantium
contains a cast of characters most of whom actually existed. The Laskaris family were indeed Protostators (sort of Prime Ministers) of Mistra. Their house can still be seen there today. The Mamonas family were Archons of Monemvasia. Theodore was the Despot of Mistra at this time and Bartolomea was his Despoena. These days, the title ‘Despot’ has rather negative conotations. In fact the Despots of Mistra were invariably good, cultured men, usually the brother or son of the Emperor in Constantinople, who ruled well and embellished their magnificent capital in the Peloponnese. Marchese Longo existed on Chios and was a leader of the Mahona at the time and he did have a palace at Sklavia, although the evidence for it there is difficult to find. Fiorenza is fictional.

Bayezid’s son Suleyman existed as did his brothers Mehmed and Musa and his grandmother, the Valide Sultan Gulcicek. The brothers’ rivalry was very real (Bayezid having murdered his own at the time of his accession), and ultimately would lead to an Ottoman civil war, the theme of the third book in the chronicles.

Yakub-Bey was chief of the
gazi
Germiyan tribe of central Anatolia and would have been a reluctant ally of Bayezid, in spite of the Sultan’s marriage to his sister Devlet Hatun. Yakub’s beylik had been overrun by Bayezid as recently as the 1380’s
and he himself had been imprisoned. The Karamanids were the Germiyans’ eastern neighbours and rivals and were yet to fall under the Ottoman yoke.

As to the events described, the city of Mistra was besieged by the Ottomans in the middle of 1390s but not taken. The Archon of Monemvasia had rebelled against the Despot some years beforehand so was quite likely not to have come to the city’s aid. The meeting at Serres took place in 1392 and the Emperor Manuel fled when he thought that his life was in danger. Prince Stefan of Serbia was also there as an Ottoman vassal and his sister, Olivera Despina, was one of Bayezid’s wives.

In Nicopolis was one of the most important battles in history. The crusade that led to the battle was largely financed by the wealthy Duke of Burgundy whose son, the Comte de Nevers, became its nominal leader. The Christian army was said to be huge, could ‘hold up the sky with its lances’. But it was also complacent and so certain of victory that jousting tournaments were held on the eve of battle. The battle that followed was as terrible and bloody as described, as was the aftermath when two thousand Christian Knights were slaughtered by Bayezid, many by his elderly ulema.

Nicopolis sent shock waves through Europe and, from that moment on, the Kings of Christendom truly feared that the Ottomans might overrun them. There were repeated efforts to raise another crusade to come to the aid of Constantinople which Bayezid put under more or less constant siege from 1394 onwards, blockading it with his new navy. But the big obstacle was the union between the western Church of Rome and the eastern Orthodox Church. Ridiculous liturgical differences, such as how the sign of the Cross should be made, had to be discussed and agreed on before the Churches could be united
and the Pope sanction another crusade. Plethon, as I say in the book, was an ardent proponent of Church union as a way to save the Empire and was to play an important part in the later Council of Florence at which it was agreed.

In the final scene of this first book, I describe ‘Greek fire’. There has been much debate as to how this Byzantine secret weapon was made and no one knows for sure. What
is
known is that Greek fire played a decisive part in the success of the Byzantine Empire from around the eighth century onwards and was so vital to state security that only the Emperor and a handful of others knew how it was created.

At the heart of The Mistra Chronicles are the twin cities of Mistra and Monemevasia in the Greek Peloponnese. I first saw Monemvasia at sunset from the deck of a sailing boat and it was love at first sight. I spent two days exploring the maze of its lower town and the ruins of the Goulas above. Then I went to Mistra and fell in love all over again. Both cities can be visited today. Mistra is about three hours from Athens airport and Monemvasia, which has been largely rebuilt as a Byzantine city, is an hour on from Mistra. Monemvasia has some good boutique hotels and a swim from the rocks outside the Portello (where Joseph met his fate) is compulsory.