Byzantium: Torment. Treachery. Temptation by S.J. Martin

Author:S.J. Martin [Martin, S.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Moonstorm Books
Published: 2023-12-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

March 1100 - Constantinople

The only information Otto Altasparta had on the Blachernae Palace came from his uncles, who had gushed over the splendours they saw during their visit. His Uncle Guibert had told him it was built on the slopes of a hill, and he said that the silver and gold throne room was awe-inspiring. He was not sure what to expect, but he knew that Alexios Komnenos preferred it to his main residence because it was smaller, more compact and gave him more privacy than the Great Palace in the centre of Constantinople, which was more of a busy administrative centre. It was also more isolated in the top northwestern corner of the city. He had been told there was a cohort of the Varangian guards in residence, who had a fearsome reputation, but apparently, there were only about twenty of them. He did not doubt that when his hundreds of armed men attacked, they could overwhelm and kill them.

However, when he and Fumagalli had finally trudged up what seemed an endless hill, he was shocked by what met his eyes. It was not just one palace; this was an enormous palace complex laid out in front of him that stretched across the face of the hill. It had high walls with great towers and gatehouses, and on the eastern side there was row after row of immense tall and wide stone-built terraces, thirty or forty feet high, planted with flowering bushes and fruit trees. There was no way anyone could access the palace complex from the east, not without long scaling ladders. Behind the Blachernae Palace rose steep, high cliffs; it looked impregnable.

He shook his head at Fumagalli in frustration; he noticed a very large and prosperous inn at the bottom of the slope, obviously used by the many visitors to the Blachernae Palace. He dropped down to sit on the edge of a stone trough in the spring sunshine.

‘Impressive, isn’t it,’ commented the innkeeper, coming out to enquire if they wanted refreshments. They agreed, ordered drinks, and he waved them to a sturdy bench under the inn windows, which still gave them a good view up the hill on the western side of the palace.

‘There are two large gates in that stretch of wall,’ commented Fumagalli, in a whisper, as the portly innkeeper returned.

‘Are they the main entrances to the Blachernae Palace?’ asked Otto, innocently.

‘Yes, the first you can see is the main gate, which remains closed most of the time; you can see the fierce Varangian guards standing outside. Further up the hill are the stables, trades entrance and the Varangian barracks. That entrance is always busy, with carts coming and going at all hours, keeping us awake rumbling over the cobbles.’

‘I hear that on the far side, there are a few postern gates; rumour has it that the Emperor uses one to escape privately into the countryside, as the royal hunting grounds are nearby. Is that true?’ asked Otto, but he could see from

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