Vignette: The Last Roman Falls
Et unam, sanctam, cathólicam et apostólicam Ecclésiam.
Confíteor unum baptísma in remissiónem peccatórum.
Et expécto resurrectiónem mortuórum,
Et vitam ventúri sǽculi. Amen.[1]
Confíteor unum baptísma in remissiónem peccatórum.
Et expécto resurrectiónem mortuórum,
Et vitam ventúri sǽculi. Amen.[1]
We believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.
We acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins.
We look for the resurrection of the dead,
And the life of the world to come. Amen.[2]
We acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins.
We look for the resurrection of the dead,
And the life of the world to come. Amen.[2]
Even the constant chants of prayer could not drown out the loud sounds of battle from outside, but nonetheless Bishop Adrian and his flock continued, seeking divine assistance that the priest was increasingly aware would not come.
Only a few hours at most, and then it will all end. He had little hope for mercy, and certainly not after hearing about the fates of Rome and Venice. It was ultimately well earned, the old Bishop grudgingly conceded, the consequences of unchristian behavior of the Latins in Dyrrachium, Corinth and Salonica finally coming home to roost. Yet the savagery of the Empire knew no bounds, and Saracen boots marched in Italy for the first time five hundred years, alongside the forces of the so called Emperor of Romans. The stories of terror had moved all the way North, of burning fields and dead farmers as the Empire moved ruthlessly on, seeking to destroy more than to conquer. Famine had hit their city long before the soldiers fattened on Egyptian grain had even showed up, and resistance was poor. Their Dux lay dead in some ditch before the Theodosian walls, and the regency council was spectacularly ineffective in managing affairs of the city, only getting their act together once it became clear that the Imperial juggernaut would not spare this outpost.
Heretics and Apostates, led by the Eastern Devil himself. There would be no victory for the faithful in this world, but he would not let his flock surrender their faith, the only thing that guaranteed them a spot in His Eternal Empire, far beyond the reach of the self-styled Theokrator. There would be no glorious last stand, merely the faithful affirming their creed as the Ancient world came to an end.
Et unam, sanctam, cathólicam et apostólicam Ecclésiam.
Confíteor unum baptísma in remissiónem peccatórum.
Et expécto resurrectiónem mortuórum,
Et vitam ventúri sǽculi. Amen.
Confíteor unum baptísma in remissiónem peccatórum.
Et expécto resurrectiónem mortuórum,
Et vitam ventúri sǽculi. Amen.
Some of the men were shaking, and most of the women were openly weeping as the concert of battle raged on. Only the children continued to sing unflinchingly, the pure of heart who Christ loves above all.
The doors of the Church were flung open with ease, for he would not have had barricaded the entry to a House of God---even if it meant letting the enemy come in and accelerating the inevitable. Et expécto resurrectiónem mortuórum .
Yet no volley of arrows came and no sword spilled blood onto the floor. The heretics and apostates stood in silence as the Bishop concluded the declaration of the creed, shocked at the fact that they had been able to finish without being murdered. He looked at the invaders more closely and noticed that the man in the lead was clad in the black robes of the Greek priests.
“Father,” he began in broken Greek. “I thank you for allowing us to finish the affirmation. There is no need to hold your men back and we are not afraid, for Christ will be the final arbiter of all souls.”
The Greek priest did not reply at first, but started to stroll down the aisle to the front, surrounded by a dozen men. Only as he drew closer did the Bishop notice the clearly Eastern features on the man’s face and his purple boots.
“There will be no blood spilled here by by men today, unless provoked”, spoke John Callinicus in perfect, if accented Latin. “We are here to do God’s work, after all.”
After all the butchering you have done, you want me to believe this is God’s work?
“As proof, I offer victuals for the unfortunate Christian souls who have not had proper sustenance for long”, he gestured, pointing at the dozen men in carrying large casks in.
Whatever hope the Bishop had at controlling his flock evaporated immediately as the people broke into loud cheers, forgetting their faith and surrendering their dignity to the apostates and heretics.
“Do not be tempted by the Devil! Remember the resoluteness of Christ in the face of offers made by the Prince of Darkness. Your suffering is nowhere close to his, and it is through his Grace that we will be saved, not by that of the Greek Emperor!”, bellowed the Bishop.
“Et unam, sanctam, cathólicam et apostólicam Ecclésiam. Confíteor unum baptísma in remissiónem peccatórum” replied John Callinicus. “We are all Christians and belong to the same Church. Surely you are not accusing the most Orthodox Catholic Church of the Romans of heresy? Christ taught us to aid the poor and defenseless, not spit on them in the manner in which you are acting.”
“You dare say that after your actions in Rome!”
“I dare, for as Emperor it was my duty to stop the corrupt officers pretending to serve the Throne of St. Peter from destroying Christendom. Surely a man of your wisdom could see how the Bishop of Rome and his cohorts conducted themselves in the manner of priests of the Temple than the Apostles they claim descent from.”
Callinicus had hit a nerve. He did his research well, knowing how much I opposed the direction our Church was taking. “It does not mean that you have not sinned!”
“Have you never sinned Father? Would you claim that your perfection allows you to cast the first stone? Christ died so that we sinners can all be redeemed.”
Callinicus moved even closer, “I do not deny I have sinned, but I did so to save the Church. Sometimes before the new can grow, the old must be put to rest. It is done now, and the Church must rebuild, through the efforts of people like us who should not let such petty things divide us.”
Was this the same speech he fed to the Copts to secure their assistance? He could not ponder upon it for too long, as Callinicus turned to face the masses and with a loudness of voice that he could not have expected from so small a frame, spoke: “We all have sinned in some manner or the other. But the road ahead is clear: Domine Iesu Christe, Fili Dei, miserere mei, peccatoris.(Lord Jesus Christ, God’s son, have mercy on me, a sinner.)”
The Bishop had not expected this, and after too long a pause, replied back: “Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ, Υἱὲ τοῦ Θεοῦ, ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλόν[3]”
For the first time, the Greek Emperor smiled. “We have an understanding then?”
“Yes, Basileus.”
“Would you be willing to join for a meal to discuss the best way we can work together to serve God?”
That would be perfect. “Of course, your Grace. But my flock---”
“More food will be provided so that they can rest well. My men shall oversee their distribution and care for needs. I will send for medics if needs be.”
That would certainly be what they want, more than my presence anyways.
“As you wish, Basileus”, he said before heading towards the Emperor, who had already turned around and was leaving. It was not the noblest thing to do, but he hoped that Christ would have mercy on him, a sinner.
“I would like to learn about your intention regarding the Saracens,”, he whispered as he drew near the Emperor.
“Unfortunate allies of convenience. With the Church united however, we will cast them to the ocean itself. My ancestor Basil had shown the true might United Christendom is capable of, and I hope we can finally correct the error of Heraclius and build an Eternal, Christian Empire, not one too different from what my illustrious predecessor had ruled”, the Emperor said, gesturing backwards as they both drew close to the door.
The Bishop turned around to follow the gesture, and cast his eyes upon the familiar faces of long dead women and men, preserved by art long beyond their time. With a last longing look at the building he would perhaps never see again, he left his Church and stepped outside with the Emperor.
The priests and the accompanying Imperial bodyguards walked for quite some distance in silence before the Bishop asked his next question. “What exactly will God’s work constitute?”
The Emperor smiled, and a pit of unease formed at the Bishop’s stomach. He was not sure if it was the light or merely the slit-like features on John’s face that made it seem more menacing than benevolent.
“ I am glad you asked. Some of it I already begun in Rome, but there will be a great demonstration soon, which is why I asked you to step outside.”
“It is almost time anyways Ibrahim, what is taking them so long?”, John noted irritably, turning to a guard who apologetically shook his head. The suspense however did not last too long as a deafening boom hit their eardrums from behind. The Bishop turned around in shock, only to see a smoldering wreck in place his his Church.
“This is God’s work, Bishop Adrian. Did you like the demonstration?”
“Those inside---”
“I would not worry too much about the Orphans I left inside to organize that little show, that is what they were trained to do since they were weaned.”
He had stepped outside with one objective only, but John had played him to his ruin. How many of those casks even had food?
Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ, Υἱὲ τοῦ Θεοῦ, ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλόν, he thought, as he steeled himself. He had hoped for time, to get close to the man and then apply poison in a manner to minimize chances of retribution. But there was no way he could serve this man in any manner, not after this. I sin in your name, Christ, he thought, as he reached inside his robes for the dagger.
He however had not even been able to hold the handle when he felt arms restraining him and cold steel against his neck, taking away his last chance of revenge. To his credit, John almost looked disappointed.
“I had such high hopes for you, after hearing how much you protested the latest fiasco organized by Rome. It however seems like your treasonous Latin blood won over in the end. Pity.”
The Bishop tried to lunge at the smug man but only felt cold steel sinking into his throat. His captor released him as he collapsed onto the ground, bleeding.
“Why?” he gasped, as his lifeblood faded.
“To put the old to rest before the new could grow. All traces of that Latin bastard must be purged from memory before the True Eternal Empire can prosper. Rome must die for Byzantion to win, Bishop. It is as simple as that.”
And with that John Callinicus and his retinue turned away, walking away from the dying man lying in front of the smoldering ruins of The Church of San Vitale, and into the burning remains of what was left of Ravenna.
.jpg)
And so ends the legacy of the Last Latin Emperor of the Romans.
Notes:
[1] Final lines of Nicene creed in Latin
[2] English translation
[3] Greek version of the Jesus prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, God’s son, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Last edited:
