The House of Iron: The Fall of Men
“Pain is nature’s way of teaching us to welcome death.”-Demetrios III Sideros
Beginning in 1638, Demetrios III Sideros starts trying to be less involved in regular governance of the Empire (an effort that meets with very limited success) , principally due to worsening health. Because Odysseus doesn’t have the right mentality, much of Demetrios’ work is delegated to the Empress Jahzara and Lady Athena. Despite her frequency at earlier Imperial cabinet meetings, Athena still has a difficult time. She may have demonstrated great intelligence and wisdom, but she is a young woman, and few are more stubborn than old men refusing to take a young woman seriously. In extremis, she can call upon her father for support, and he always backs her play, but that does nothing for her own authority and is a tool that can only be used as long as Demetrios is alive.
The situation improves for her in the third quarter of 1638 when the refurbishing of a new office and study for her is completed. It is done up very similarly to the Emperor’s personal office and study, a deliberate choice to put those summoned there into the proper mood. But it is not identical and the most noticeable difference from Demetrios’ study is the large painting on the wall behind her desk, the one any petitioner would face while addressing her.
Timoclea Killing her Rapist [OTL painting by Elisabetta Sirani]
en.wikipedia.org
The painting is from the story of Timoclea, a woman who appears in Plutarch’s life of Alexander the Great. A resident of Thebes, she was raped by a captain in Alexander’s army after the city fell. When he finished, the captain demanded to know where Timoclea’s valuables were, to which she answered that they were hidden at the bottom of the well. [1] When he got to the well, she threw him in and then dropped stones on him till he died. When brought before Alexander, he pardoned her.
It is a special commission by Athena. Although Timoclea’s skin is substantially whitened (for historical accuracy), otherwise Timoclea bears a startling resemblance to Athena. As for the Thracian captain she is throwing into the well, he looks a great deal like former Logothete of the Drome Andronikos Sarantenos, a reminder of what happens to troublesome officials who cross the Sideroi.
The artist is a Sicilian woman, Anna Albanese, who moved to Constantinople just before the outbreak of the war; there’s a much bigger market for her studio productions in the Queen of Cities than in Bari. A more personal reason is that Anna was raped by a student of her father (also an artist) in 1628. Taking her rapist to court, the trial soon became more about her, raking over her character to see what she’d done to “entice her assailant”. The obscene and ridiculous practice of blaming the victim of rape rather than the perpetrator for the act is sadly very commonplace. Even though she ended up winning the case (although the rapist’s penalty was insultingly mild) Anna naturally wanted to be somewhere else, hence the move to Constantinople.
While Anna is painting for Athena, Demetrios is writing. Another reason for his lessening involvement in governance, aside from ill health, is that he is hard at work on what many historians consider his magnum opus,
The History of the War of the Roman Succession. Curiously, he does not call it ‘the Great Latin War’ even though that is a term he coined. The most commonly accepted reason among scholars is that the history doesn’t just cover the war and fighting between Theodor and his allies against Demetrios, but also connected conflicts. These include the Ducal War in Lombardy, the diplomatic maneuvers in the Mediterranean and the fighting in the East between Spain and Rhomania, the Ravens’ Rebellion, and the Third Rhine War, although his coverage of many of these is cut short because he dies before the events he is describing conclude. However some biographers argue that another reason is at play.
It is not the only thing he is writing, although the history is the main task. Another work is
A New and Ancient World, which is not published during his lifetime and when it is it is done under a pseudonym. Many question whether Demetrios finished the text before he died as it is not clear that the ending was meant to be the end of the story, or just the first part. Historians are unsure of what to make of it. A Roman Emperor writes the tale of a Roman expedition to the moon. There the expedition, through pride, arrogance, and greed ends up awakening a far greater power that would’ve happily stayed slumbering and unaware of Rhomania’s existence until the expedition’s aggrandizements had awakened it. The book ends with the tattered remnants of the expedition fleeing back to Earth while the power marshals all its forces for an attack on Rhomania itself.
Despite the pseudonym, scholars are certain that Demetrios III Sideros is the author of
A New and Ancient World. There are more questions regarding
Sancho Panza of Seville, or, the Silver Elephant. It is a play that comes out in late 1638, about a Spanish merchant. Traveling the world, he becomes staggeringly wealthy, but then in a series of mishaps and disasters, mostly in events out of his control or doing, he sees everyone around him and himself lose practically everything save the small silver elephant pendant around his neck, a symbol of wisdom and memory. Losing his mind, he eventually commits suicide. It seems unlikely that Demetrios wrote the whole play, but a number of scholars think he may have penned the final speech of Sancho Panza.
* * *
Empress Theater, Constantinople, March 18, 1639:
Demetrios took another sip of opium-laced wine, settling back into his seat. The recently-added cushioning felt good on his bony frame; food scraping, ripping, gnawing, clawing through his ulcerated weeping-mucus-and-blood intestines was something he preferred to avoid nowadays.
‘Juan the Black’ entered back onto the stage. Juan was a Spanish actor, one of the most popular on the Constantinople stage, particularly with the ladies. ‘The Black’ came from his thick and naturally curly black hair, reportedly an inheritance from an Arabic mother. Juan strode to the center of the stage, brandishing a dagger in his right hand. He was wearing the elephant pendant over his blue jacket, although Demetrios could tell the jacket was draped a little more loosely on Juan’s body. That was to make room for the bladder filled with pig’s blood underneath it.
Juan cleared his throat.
“I have seen many amazing things, things wondrous to behold,
In my days across the Earth.
A humble Englishman, two generous priests, three abstemious Greeks,
Things that would fill you with awe.
But do you know what I have not seen, in all my travels,
In all the nations and peoples of the Earth?
Justice to the poor, mercy to the widow and orphan,
And compassion to the sick.
These things I have not seen, in all the world.
I have heard many words to these effects, and yet no deeds.
Justice and compassion must be bought in gold.
If one lack the means, the pleas are met with the club.
The priest and the king speak of justice, and yet there is none.
And so I wonder, why is that?
Perhaps God and Satan are just beings we conjured in our minds,
To absolve us of our sins.
God to forgive and Satan to blame.
Perhaps heaven and hell are also just vapors of our brains,
Formed to condone the lack of righteousness on Earth.
Perhaps there is a God, and we are just the dreams and scribbles of a madman,
Created to entertain a twisted audience who delight in our sorrows and find our torments good cheer.”
A pause.
“I will not speak any longer, for I know you do not listen. Because I am mad, and therefore I must be wrong. That is all that need to be said to prove that I am at fault.
Well, I am mad. This I do not deny. So I know the face of madness, and that is what I see. Madness is a world that applauds justice and then beats those crying out for it. Madness is a world that preaches compassion and spits on the widow and orphan. Madness is a world that talks of God and yet worships the devil.
Do with this knowledge what you will. Ignore it, face it, pretend it is not so. I do not care. But as for me, I have had enough of capering for this cruelty called entertainment.”
He hefted the dagger high above his head. “I bid full scorn on this demented world, and call myself glad to be quit of it!” Juan plunged the dagger into the bladder hidden under his jacket, the blood spraying across the stage. He staggered to his knees, and then fell as the curtain drew closed.
* * *
Some scholars have questioned Demetrios’ authorship of the speech, partly because of its criticism of rulers, and what could be construed as condemnation of himself. Most of his executions were during the war period, but his most famous and cruel ones date from the post-war period. And the evidence of the most famous one is still on display in Constantinople to this day.
Empress Jahzara wrote that she very rarely saw her husband truly enraged, but on those few occasions “who I saw there frightened me. I saw the depths of which he was truly capable if he so desired, and I thank a merciful God that Demetrios Sideros lacked ambition.” Perhaps Demetrios was aware of and critical of this tendency; some historians argue that the viciousness of the latter executions may be because of his ill health and bodily pain. Others disagree on the grounds that the self-criticism is unfair, as many to this day argue that the executions were justified and actually a highly beneficial precedent for Roman society. But Demetrios would not have known that, and many of the execution-supporters admit the actual form was excessive.
In 2007, the librarian at the Monastery of St Ioannes of the Turks in Ikonion discovered a manuscript journal dating back to the 1640s in the archives. The owner had bequeathed all his possessions to the monastery in exchange for a stipend and support for the remainder of his life (a common way to secure support in one’s old age). This was as part of a historical study of the monastery and he avidly began reading, but some was in cypher. After diligent effort and help from a friend at the Imperial Cryptography Section, the code was broken.
No one could’ve predicted what the text said.
The encoded sections were from the late 1630s and detailed the author’s study of a substance he called Thessalian milk (why is never explained). According to the text, if the substance was heated or if vitriol (hydrochloric acid) was added to it, “poisonous vapors” were produced. The author admitted he couldn’t figure out a delivery system for these poisonous vapors that wouldn’t have massive backfire risks on the launchers. However “as a method for disposing of obstinate Ishmaelites these vapors would be most useful. The Ishmaelites could be herded into chambers, locked inside, and exposed to the poisonous vapors until all succumbed. Then the bodies could be removed and buried. Another advantage of this method is that valuable materials such as clothing, gold teeth, fat, and hair could be salvaged from the corpses which might be damaged by other disposal methods and put to productive use.”
As soon as this bombshell was published, chemists set to work and quickly divined the process. Thessalian milk is sodium hypochlorite, used as a liquid bleach for centuries, originally developed for use in the textile industry, but not as early as the 1630s. But when heated to 35 C or when hydrochloric acid is added, it produces chlorine gas.
Historians and archivists across Rhomania immediately began scouring the sources to try and find the end of the story. In 2011, the archivists who manage the original manuscripts of Demetrios III found the answer in some of his notes. When informed of the proposal, he reacted promptly, killing the project and buying the silence of everyone involved. The journal-writer had retired from his studies with a large donative, which in the early 1640s he lost in some bad business ventures and hence his bequeathing of the remainder of his possessions to the monastery.
The whole tale explains a curious remark in Demetrios III’s journal that no biographer had been able to explain until that time. “I was presented with a great evil, the likes of which even my most cruel impulses could not imagine. I hope, I pray, to a merciful God that I have succeeded in silencing it. I know it shall come forth eventually, for now I know such an evil is possible, and the mind of man is twisted and cruel. If it can be done, it will be done. But I pray, let this cup of evil come from another people’s hand, and let this monstrous crime be added to another’s account. Let it not be said that the Roman people brought this forth.”
His prayer was granted. Sodium hypochlorite would be developed by Roman chemists later in the 1600s, but no one then would think to develop it into a poison gas chamber as a tool for ‘social ordering’. That dubious honor would fall to another.
Thank a merciful God that Demetrios III Sideros lacked ambition.
[1] The city had been besieged, so naturally the residents had taken to hiding their wealth to hopefully keep them from being stolen by the victorious soldiers. This is a common practice and why sacks of cities see soldiers torturing residents. The soldiers are trying to find the hiding places.
