At the same time Manuel captured Erzincan, Gracião, a young nobleman from the Venetian Black Sea colony of Tana, had just learned the whereabouts of Bosporus Caesar Manuel, whom he had requested to see.
"So, Manuel is not in the city of Trabzon, but on the border. Is that right?" He tried to confirm this information, his expression not looking too good.
"That's right." Serenus, whom Manuel had left in Trabzon to handle foreign affairs, nodded in agreement, and Amiroutzes, who had been sent to assist him, echoed with vague words like "Yes, yes."
"Uh, actually, saying he's on the border isn't quite accurate. From what I know of Manuel, he's very likely already within the territory of the Aq Qoyunlu Dynasty." Seeing Gracião's slightly dazed expression, Serenus added another sentence.
"Huh?" The Venetian was completely dumbfounded.
It seems this Latin will have to wait in Trabzon for a long time, Amiroutzes thought to himself…
Meanwhile, on a pasture in Erzurum, Bagrat, a young Armenian slave, who had finally finished a day's labor and found a chance to rest, walked towards the thatched hut where the old Greek, John Anagnostes, lived, as usual, after ensuring the sheep would not run away.
Ever since that day he expressed to Anagnostes that he wanted to learn to read and write, Bagrat would seek out the old accountant to study language and script during his limited free time.
Fortunately, he was quite dedicated and diligent. In this short period, he not only learned to spell his native Armenian but also mastered 24 Greek letters. This speed even earned Anagnostes's appreciation. "To be honest, sometimes I even think how wonderful it would be if my child was as dedicated to studying theological rhetoric as you are." Anagnostes couldn't help but sigh on the night Bagrat mastered the Greek alphabet.
"Teacher's child?" Bagrat, who had recognized him as his teacher since that day, felt a little curious upon hearing this.
"Hmm," Speaking of his child, Anagnostes's head nodded a little stiffly, as if recalling some sad past events. "He was about your age. Our family was captured and sold into slavery together in Thessaloniki. I was eventually sold to Anatolia, my wife was sold to Bulgaria before me, and as for him… I, I don't know…" Speaking of his child, his head drooped sadly, and his words even became a little hesitant.
Seeing his teacher in this state, Bagrat did not continue to discuss this topic, so as not to upset him. For the next few days, they deliberately avoided these subjects.
Returning from his memories to reality, Bagrat had already arrived in front of Anagnostes's thatched hut. After making sure the annoying Kurdish overseer was not nearby, he cautiously knocked on the door.
After confirming everything was in order, Anagnostes welcomed Bagrat into the hut and then began today's lesson. As usual, during breaks in the lesson, they would chat about recent events as a diversion.
However, today, they did not notice that some of the things they discussed involved the future of this region.
"Have you heard?" During a break in class, Anagnostes stroked his long white beard, a hint of undetectable anticipation flashing in his eyes. "The White Sheep Bey attacked Trabzon and was driven back. Perhaps Saint Mary will take pity on us and let these Turkmen lose once in Erzurum as well."
But Bagrat quickly poured cold water on him. "Teacher, I think you shouldn't put your hopes on the Christians to the north. Although I have no impression, people around me who know about that place say their true combat power is very weak, and they even entrusted their defenses to those dog-cursed Turks…"
"But as far as I know, the ones who defeated the White Sheep Army this time were the Romans from the northern shore of the Black Sea, that is, the one who is contending with the Komnenos family of Trabzon for the title of Basileus." Anagnostes interrupted him.
"'Black Sea,' 'Trabzon,' 'Komnenos,' 'Basileus'? Sounds very impressive." Bagrat looked confused.
"Hmm, once you master some everyday greek, I'll explain these specialized terms to you." Anagnostes then realized that the Armenian in front of him was an illiterate who couldn't read a single word not long ago.
"Hmm, so it's the Romans from across the sea? But I always feel that Romans are equally bad at fighting." After roughly clarifying what his teacher had said, Bagrat scratched his head and came to this conclusion with a click of his tongue.
Thinking of all he was currently enduring, Anagnostes sighed with a bitter smile, "Perhaps. But I hope this time will be different."
And on the day after Erzincan was occupied by Bosporus, Manuel sat in a grand mansion within the city, listening to Badars's summary report of yesterday's battle in Erzincan.
"Reporting to Manuel, in yesterday's battle, by the grace of God and under your excellent command, nearly two thousand enemy soldiers were completely annihilated by our army's pincer attack. More than half of them were captured, and the rest were killed or wounded; according to the captives, all their commanders should have died on the spot. In contrast, our army's casualties did not exceed 500 men."
Manuel nodded with satisfaction, instructing him to deal with the captives as usual, and added as Badars was about to withdraw, "Oh, by the way. From now on, omit unnecessary flattery in battle reports. If it weren't for the enemy's extreme underestimation of us this time, it would probably have been a fierce battle." He was well aware of his own capabilities.
Badars repeatedly agreed and then withdrew. As he withdrew, his admiration for his lord, whom he had followed since childhood, grew even more. Having some understanding of military matters, he knew that no matter how much the enemy underestimated them, it was an army primarily composed of valiant Turkmen Ghazi. Regardless, being able to defeat them was already far beyond any Roman army of the past hundred years.
"As expected of Manuel, such prudence is a rare and excellent quality among monarchs!" As he withdrew, Badars couldn't help but exclaim in his heart.
Manuel frowned in confusion at the faint glimmer of surprise in his Commander of the Guard and confidential secretary's eyes as he left, then relaxed after a moment of thought. After all, he had more important things to do next.
About half an hour later, certain that the people he had summoned would arrive soon, Manuel rose from his seat and turned his back to the door. A moment later, after a military servant informed him of their arrival, he called out in as cheerful a tone as possible: "Let them in."