Chapter 1 Born in the Purple Room
Isaac woke up on the big soft bed.
Looking around, there are ancient relief paintings carved on the walls, and furniture placed in different styles, some with obvious Gothic colors, and some exquisite objects from the East.
Compared with the ancient luxury of the room, the decorations look much lonely. The cabinet where the amethyst pendant should be placed is inlaid with dull glass, a marble statue is placed on the silver base, and the gold inlaid on the bronze mirror is unknown. It is missing and it is unknown who stole it.
Isaac threw himself at the mirror and looked at his new self.
The young man in the mirror is about ten years old, with a pale face and regular features, brown eyes shining with melancholy, a straight nose in the middle, a slightly tilted mouth, a little bit proud, and slightly messy brown-black curly hair. Cover half of your nice eyebrows.
Looking at the handsome face in the mirror and the unusual decorations around him, Isaac smiled with satisfaction.
Under such conditions, this great opportunity to travel through was not wasted.
Didn’t this sense of substitution come all at once?
Boom, boom, boom!
"Come in!" Isaac was a little surprised to speak a language he had never heard before.
The heavy wooden door slowly opened, and a man in attendant uniform walked in and bowed.
"Your Highness, I am glad to see you awake. Your uncle, the great Basilius, is very worried about you. If you are in good health, please put on your clothes and come with me."
I really cherish words like gold!
After saying that, he bowed again.
"etc!"
The attendant stopped.
Brother, I haven’t understood the situation yet, why should I give you more tips!
What’s the best way to ask a question? Will there be any flaws?
Ahem——
"who I am?"
do not care! Since he is a prince, he has the power to do whatever he wants, so it is not beautiful to be mysterious.
The attendant was stunned for a moment.
"You are Isaac Palaiologus, your uncle, Ioannis the Great, Emperor of Rome and the Romans, your father the Despot of Mystilis and all Morea."
Isaac's expression changed drastically.
Sent!
He traveled to the late Byzantine Empire. His uncle Ioannis was the penultimate emperor of Byzantium, and his father was the famous Constantine XI in history.
No, Constantine XI had no heirs. Could it be the influence of his own time travel?
A servant hurried over and said, "Your Highness, Steward, Your Majesty has finished the mass at Hagia Sophia and is now meeting with the envoy from Rome. He ordered me to call you."
"An envoy from Rome?" The steward frowned, "Are they discussing the United Church again?"
The servant looked at the steward's face carefully and said, "No, it seems to be about the Crusaders in the North."
"Your Majesty seems very happy."
After thinking for a while, he added another sentence.
Half an hour later, Isaac was fully dressed and got on the carriage heading to the Grand Palace.
Along the way, the carriage passed through most of the city of Constantinople, which also gave Isaac a deeper understanding of this dying empire.
At this time, Constantinople had long lost its reputation as the "King of Cities, Mother of Ten Thousand Cities" and now resembled a large rural market. On the outskirts of the city, more than a dozen villages line up along the city wall. When passing one of them, the plainly dressed peasants knelt down and saluted the carriage with family crests in fear, muttering something in their mouths. Farmers and citizens were in a hurry along the way; there were even fewer craftsmen and local businessmen. The most prosperous districts are home to Latin merchants from Italy and Turkic expatriates from Anatolia. The flag of San Marco in Venice is flying high, shining exceptionally in the sun, stinging every Byzantine. heart of.
The draft horses panted heavily, and the carriages passed through Theodosius Square and Constantine Square one after another. Some ancient statues stood beside the square - the marble and copper bodies were still there, but the gold, silver, pearls and jade inlaid on them were unknown. Whereabouts. In the catastrophe more than two hundred years ago, the entire empire's wealth accumulated over hundreds of years was looted. Although the warriors of the Lascaris family finally regained the capital, the pain continues to this day, leaving the entire empire Devastated.
"Here we are," the steward said shortly.
The carriage stopped in front of the Grand Palace, next to the famous statue of Justinian. The barren grassland not far away was obviously the former royal racecourse. In the distance, the spire of Hagia Sophia was faintly visible.
This is the residence of the emperor, the center of Rome, the capital of the entire empire, and the center of the world.
Once upon a time, the racecourse was filled with strong and proud knights in armor, and the square was filled with Roman soldiers who shocked the world!
Once upon a time, food from Egypt, porcelain from the far East, amber from the Baltic Sea, precious wood from the Black Sea coast, and slaves from North Africa gathered here.
Once upon a time, orders that could change the world were issued from here. Teams of healthy and powerful city militiamen gathered here. The leaders of each military region summoned well-trained cavalry and archers. The emperor would wear a purple robe and ride on the cavalry. The horse is covered in purple horse clothing, and the Roman eagle emblem on the armor is shining.
The Patriarch and monks of Hagia Sophia would pray for the victory of the empire, wealthy merchants would donate food, weapons, and slaves, and citizens would shout "Victory" and throw wreaths at the troops as they walked through the streets.
The victorious army would throw the captured flags and treasures at the statue of Justinian, which was increasingly decorated with gold.
Now, the Grand Palace is in a semi-abandoned state. The emperor does not have so many guests to entertain, nor does he have so many gold coins to maintain the huge palace complex.
The racecourse gradually disappeared, the gold on the statue of Justinian was robbed, leaving ugly scars, and the bells of Hagia Sophia in the distance seemed to convey a sense of sadness.
This is the last Byzantium, the last Rome.
Isaac gathered his thoughts, bowed deeply to Justinian, and walked slowly up to the temple.
The old eunuch in the palace led Isaac to the meeting hall, and bursts of hearty laughter came from the meeting hall.
Push the door open and enter.
The person in charge is a middle-aged man with half-white hair, a thin face, high cheekbones, and wrinkles around the eyes and forehead, which are signs of long-term stress.
At this time, there was a flush on the face, and the corners of the mouth were slightly raised, full of joy.
"Ah! Isaac, my child, I heard that you are feeling better, come and let me see!" Emperor Joannes VIII said happily.
"Let me introduce you to the envoy from Rome, the Archbishop of Foggal."
Isaac looked around and saw a smiling middle-aged man sitting on a chair nearby, wearing a white priest's robe and a Roman Catholic cross. Isaac bowed slightly.
"Your Majesty, my health is completely recovered. I am very happy to meet you and this distinguished guest. I wish you both a healthy body and a good mood."
Ioannis VIII waved his hand and motioned for Isaac to sit on the chair next to him.
"Your Majesty, what makes you so happy?"
"Bishop Fojal has brought us good news. The troops of Wladyslaw III, King of Poland and Hungary, have captured the Turkic border fortress and arrived in the Varna region. The Serbian Grand Duke and the troops from Bohemia The mercenary troops will join them under the leadership of Hunyadi, and their troops will be greater in quantity and quality than that boy Muhammad."
"Not only that, under the order of Pope Enren IV, the Venetian fleet has blocked the Dardanelles Strait, and Murad II, who has withdrawn from the Karaman front, will be stopped in Anatolia and unable to timely Support, this holy war has a great chance of winning." Bishop Foujar on the side also smiled and added, "The Pope's order" reads very seriously.
Ioannis VIII obviously heard the implication of Foujar's words, stood up and put his hand on his chest.
"May God always favor him - the great pope and jihadist." He lowered his head slowly, showing no emotion or anger.
Foujar also stood up with satisfaction and prayed for the Pope.
Isaac had no choice but to pretend to be pious, with thousands of horses racing in his heart, and sincerely greeted the Pope and the mother of Wladyslaw III.
After a while, you won’t be able to laugh anymore.
Opening the champagne at halftime is a recipe for death.
After seeing off the Pope's envoy, only the smiling uncle and miserable nephew were left in the empty hall.
Ioannis VIII was still immersed in the dream described by the envoy, fantasizing about taking this opportunity to regain the territory and recreate the achievements of Alexios the Great and Michael VIII.
Isaac already knew the outcome of the matter.
The Venetian fleet did blockade the Dardanelles, but their old enemy the Genoese let Murad II's army go - after receiving a large sum of money.
Murad II crossed the Bosporus, marched thousands of miles, and fought a decisive battle with the Crusaders in Varna.
The war situation was originally stable and improving, but the young Wladyslaw III didn't know what happened. He ignored Hunyadi's warning and led the Knight Guard to storm the Sudanese army's tent.
The knights once reached the Sultan's tent, and the golden and red flag of Murad II was already in sight.
At the critical moment, the Crusader general Wladyslaw III shouted to kill the enemy, rode his horse into the battle, and took the lead bravely - and then was stabbed under the horse by a soldier.
Suddenly, the whole army collapsed.
Wladyslaw, the joint king of Poland and Hungary, was killed on the spot, and the legendary general Hunyadi Janos only escaped with his life.
At this point, the Western Catholic world's large-scale military assistance to Constantinople came to an end. Ottoman's prestige resounded throughout Europe. The Latin countries had their backbones completely broken, and they did not dare to be enemies with Ottoman for a long time.
In the following hundreds of years, traditional Christian territories continued to be lost, and the Ottoman iron hooves plowed through the entire southeastern Europe, from the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire to the capital of the Holy Roman Empire.
But that’s all for another day.
"Isaac, you will be twelve years old soon, and you are not too young. If you can regain a few territories this time, I will appoint you as governor!" Ioannis VIII was obviously very interested.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I don't ask for a fiefdom. I just want the empire to last forever and your Majesty to be in good health."
Ioannis VIII curled his lips in displeasure.
"You really don't look like your father. If he were here, he would definitely start bargaining with me."
"By the way, your father is currently marching north on the Corinth Peninsula, echoing the Varna Crusaders. I heard that the progress is going very smoothly."
So saying, he handed a letter to Isaac.
The handwriting on the letter was straight and smooth, written in one breath, clearly written by a strong warrior.
After a few cursory glances, Isaac understood the current situation. Constantine's military operations in the peninsula were progressing smoothly, and he did not encounter any decent resistance. However, he was seriously short of food and ordnance, and asked for support from the capital.
In addition, Constantine also expressed his best wishes for the health of his brother and mother, and expressed his longing for Isaac, whom he had not seen for a long time.
"Your Majesty," Isaac raised his head.
"Leave it to me to transport military supplies this time. I also want to do my part in the empire's war."
Ioannis was obviously surprised and looked at his nephew carefully.
"You are only twelve years old, and your father is still relying on me to ride horses at this age..."
"But Mohammed next door became sultan at the age of twelve."
Isaac raised his head and looked into his uncle's gray-brown eyes.
In the evening, Isaac sat at the table, thinking about the news he had received today.
Time travel is a foregone conclusion, but it seems to be a dead end.
Varna's defeat was inevitable - Murad II might have crossed the strait by now.
Constantinople is like a mess at the moment. How happy it is now, how panicked it was when the news of the annihilation of the Crusaders came.
His uncle agreed to his request, and he could leave the capital and go to the vast world.
No, you must do something to save Byzantium and your own fate!
Thinking of this, Isaac wrote a few lines on the paper and handed it to the attendant outside.
"Andre, you immediately send someone to inquire about the situation of these people. When you come back, go directly to the south to find me."
Steward Andre, still as taciturn as in the morning, took the note and nodded.
(End of chapter)