EMPIRE REWRITTEN [Isekai ? Alt-History ? Strategy]

Chapter 22: Storms on the Horizon

Theodore's jaw hardened. "So he's coalescing every form of leverage: money, armed strength, and the hearts of the people through these so-called 'printed bibles.'"

Andreas interjected, "Our sympathizers there are fading fast, my Despot. The promise of thriving trade and wealth has turned more heads than any sermon could. And after the failed sabotage attempt, Constantine has heightened security around his workshops. Our agents find it harder each day to gather news—let alone act."

Theodore rose from his seat, pacing the length of the chamber. "And the local clergy? Has not a single voice risen to condemn this blasphemy?"

"Some do," Andreas acknowledged. "A handful of anti-unionist bishops and monasteries have publicly denounced the Latin texts and the forthcoming Greek version. They deliver sermons warning the faithful. But their words vanish beneath the influence of the bishop in Glarentza—clearly under Constantine's favor—who preaches the merits of unification. He even lauds these new books."

Marcus added, "Despot, we also have word that Master Plethon is arranging to move permanently to Glarentza, ostensibly to prepare for the Emperor's visit. His influence will only fortify Constantine's position."

Theodore stopped pacing, anger and concern warring in his expression. "Plethon is a dangerous man—his radical doctrines imperil the pillars of our world. Aligned with Constantine, he could beguile Emperor and commoner alike. To think I once counted him among my own advisors..."

A heavy silence enveloped the chamber as Theodore returned to his seat. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin, eyes narrowing as his thoughts turned inward. The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound, its flames casting flickering shadows that danced across his brooding expression.

"Despot," Alexios ventured cautiously, "we must consider the possibility that Constantine's military buildup isn't only for the Ottomans."

Father Grigorios leaned in. "You fear he may eventually turn those pikes and cannons upon us?"

"It is more than a fear," Theodore admitted. "He has sent a letter suggesting we unite to protect the Hexamilion Wall, but to me, it smells like a ploy. Should we commit too many of our own forces, Mystras might stand unguarded."

Lord Demetrios, who had been silent until now, inclined his head. "What will you have us do, my Lord? The Ottoman threat is real, yet we cannot leave ourselves bare to a blade in the dark."

"We tread on treacherous ground," Theodore mused, his gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. "Bolster our defenses within Mystras. Summon loyal forces from the provinces, but quietly. If Constantine bears ill will, let him meet a fortress, not a helpless target."

Alexios nodded. "Shall we risk informing the Emperor of these troubling developments? He may not realize how thoroughly Constantine is entrenching himself."

Theodore gave a heavy sigh. "My elder brother has always favored Constantine. Any cautionary word from me might be dismissed as simple jealousy."

"Perhaps," Father Damianos ventured softly, "if we present our worries as devotion to the empire's welfare, emphasizing the perils of allowing such might to gather under a single banner..."

"You suggest appealing to the Emperor's sense of duty over brotherly love," Theodore said, eyes narrowed. "A cunning suggestion. Yet it is a fine line—one misstep, and he'll see my motives as suspect."

The chamber grew quiet once more. Theodore's mind churned with possibilities, each more troubling than the last.

"Despot," Father Grigorios began hesitantly, his fingers nervously twisting the beads of his komboskini, "permit me to speak plainly?"