Free Web NovelChapter 728: Giovanni’s Charge
"Cavalry!" he called; his gaze steeled with purpose. "Apart from the scouts, split into three forces. The first hunt down any sign of the rebels in this region. I want no one left to slip away into the shadows."
"Aye, Your Majesty!" the officers responded in unison.
"The second force—clear the roads from here to Vlore. I want the reinforcements from Albanon escorted safely through these lands. No more surprises, no more delays."
"Aye, Your Majesty!"
"And finally," he continued, his voice growing sharper, "I want this atrocity recorded in full detail. The ashes, the ruins, the murdered innocents. Use our influence. Make sure the world knows what has happened here. And most importantly..." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "I want the Pope to know."
The officers saluted once more, swiftly dispersing to carry out their emperor’s command.
And then, Leo turned to the one man he trusted above all others—his elder brother, Giovanni. frёeωebɳovel.com
"What advice can you offer me, my brother?" he asked, his voice quieter now, seeking not just counsel, but wisdom.
Giovanni met his gaze, his expression one of grim determination. Without a word, he dismounted, spreading a map across the back of his black warhorse.
"The fortresses of Vidin and Nova Montana are under siege," he began, his voice steady despite the rage burning beneath his words. "These strongholds are vital. If they fall, the rebels will have full control over this region, allowing them to entrench themselves further.
"The terrain to the north is treacherous—dense forests, mountain passes, narrow valleys. Our troops cannot manoeuvre freely, and we have little intelligence on what lies ahead. We could be walking into an ambush, into a death trap."
He clenched his fist, his knuckles whitening. "We must not engage them blindly. We secure our allies first, then force the enemy into one decisive battle—a place of our choosing, on our terms."
He looked up at his younger brother, awaiting his verdict.
The emperor nodded; his face resolute. Then, in a gesture that silenced the surrounding officers, he unfastened the heavy purple cloak from his shoulders, its embroidered Chi-Rho and double-headed eagle glistening in the waning sunlight.
"You are my elder brother," Leo said solemnly, holding the cloak in his hands. "You are the more seasoned warrior, the sharper mind in battle. I entrust this to you. I entrust this war to you."
He stepped forward, draping the imperial cloak over Giovanni’s shoulders. "I grant you full authority—command this army as you see fit. Your word is law. Every man here will heed your command..." His voice lowered, unwavering. "Including me." freёwebnoѵel.com
Giovanni hesitated only a moment, swallowing hard as the weight of responsibility settled upon him. Then, with a firm nod, he saluted his emperor.
"Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
There was no time to dwell. Without another word, he swung himself atop his horse, raising the emperor’s flag high in the air as he spurred forward.
"All Varangians and remaining cavalry—ride with me!"
The thunder of hooves filled the broken land, the emperor’s banner cutting through the wind like a spear of vengeance. The soldiers followed without hesitation, their loyalty unquestionable, their resolve unshaken.
"Remember! Do not engage, wait until my reinforcements arrive!"
"Aye! Your Majesty!"
It took little time for Giovanni and his troops to locate the main rebel force. They were still there, entrenched around the fortress of Vidin, their siege dragging into its second month.
"General," Giovanni’s lieutenant pointed his whip toward the enemy encampment in the distance. "The rebels have made significant progress in their siege. If we delay any further, I fear—"
But Giovanni did not seem troubled in the slightest. Instead, a knowing smirk played at his lips. "Look closely, my friend," he said, his voice calm and assured. "This fortress was fortified under General Julian’s orders, designed to withstand an extended siege. He foresaw this—knew that even after we reclaimed Bulgaria, battles would still be waged upon these lands. And as always, he was right."
Before the lieutenant could respond, a scout rode in at full gallop, dust swirling behind him. "General!" the scout called out, breathless from his haste. "The enemy has set up their encampment along the lower Danube, surrounding the fortress of Vidin! They are attempting to divert the river—to flood the stronghold! If they succeed, the garrison won’t last much longer!"
Giovanni’s eyes sharpened as he took in the sight before him. He had already noted the enemy’s numbers—vast, but woefully disorganised. There was no centralised command, no unified chain of authority. Their encampment sprawled like a patchwork quilt, with individual banners fluttering under different lords. Nobles commanded their own personal retinues, each faction moving independently, without any semblance of coordination.
A flaw. A fatal one.
Giovanni exhaled slowly, his mind already piecing together the perfect response.
He reached for the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it with a crisp ring of steel before raising it high.
"Men!" he roared. "Break into your designated regiments! We will encircle them from three sides—Varangians, with me! But hear me well: We do not engage! We do not clash! We drive them—herd them—toward Vidin!"
His cavalry bolted into action, hooves thundering as the wind carried his command across the ranks.
"Remember!" Giovanni called again. "You are not here to fight—you are shepherds, and they are the flock! Keep the pressure on them! Push them northward, straight into the fortress’s jaws! No engagements—only pursuit!"
Trumpets blared, signalers relaying his orders across the battlefield.
The Roman cavalry split, three columns fanning out like encroaching tides, sweeping down upon the rebel encampments in a wave of flashing steel and thunderous hooves.
Panic erupted almost instantly.
The rebels’ warning bells rang in desperation, but their fractured chain of command collapsed before it could even take hold. Men scrambled in different directions, each nobleman barking orders to his own troops—yet with no unified leadership, confusion reigned. Soldiers crashed into one another in the frenzy, their formations breaking, their lines collapsing under the weight of their own disorder.
What had begun as an ordinary siege was now unraveling into chaos.
But soon, the Romans found themselves facing an unexpected challenge—there was simply too little resistance ahead of them. The enemy formations were scattered in disarray, their commanders frantically rushing to reorganise their men into some semblance of a defensive line. Though their efforts were ultimately futile, the chaos posed an issue for the Romans, who had been given strict orders not to engage.
For a brief moment, confusion gripped the advancing cavalry.
Then, amidst the galloping hooves, one figure surged ahead—blade raised high, roaring above the thunderous charge.
It was none other than their commander, Giovanni Junior.
A towering figure, nearly two meters in height, he seemed to merge with the powerful Arabian steed beneath him—one of the finest the empire had to offer. Without hesitation, he tore into the enemy lines, his sword carving through flesh and steel alike. On either side of him, his Varangian riders followed, hacking through the scattered rebels, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction.
Seeing their commander charge so fearlessly, the Roman cavalry could not hold back any longer. With a deafening cry, they plunged into the fray, shattering what remained of the rebel formations. The battlefield erupted into chaos—screams of dying men, the moans of the wounded, severed limbs and lifeless corpses strewn across the blood-soaked earth.
For those rebels still lucky enough to be standing, there was only one choice left—run.
And run they did.
It started with one man bolting north. Then another. And another. Within seconds, the entire rebel force broke, fleeing in panic under the relentless pressure of the Roman cavalry.
"It’s the perfect time to cut them down, General!" a lieutenant urged. "They’re defenseless against our blades now!"
"Wait!" Giovanni bellowed, raising his sword high to halt the charge. "Listen to my orders! Have you all forgotten what I said? Maintain the pursuit—do not engage!"
Some officers nodded in understanding, while others hesitated, still eager to press the advantage. But this was an army, and orders were orders.
And so, a strange sight unfolded.
Ahead, the terrified rebels sprinted for their lives. Just behind them, thousands of Roman cavalry followed, hooves pounding in eerie unison, never quite closing the gap. And further still, in the distance, the emperor’s legions rushed to catch up, the banners of Constantinople fluttering in the wind.
Three armies. Three forces. All converging on a single target.
The besieged fortress of Vidin.
Along the way, there are countless men who fell, countless men who are tossed alongside the road, and countless who chose to kneel and surrender, but Giovanni, just like what his mentor Julian used to do, he simply exclaimed at them. "Move out of the way! My army has no time to take you as captive!"
And then, the cavalries continued riding, leaving the surrendered rebels looking at themselves, although soon they realised something, from the dust raised high above the ground, that there is another army approaching.
