Historical Context

The 620s AD were the darkest days in the history of the Roman Empire. The western provinces had long been lost to the Germanic barbarians who had transformed former imperial holdings into arenas for ambitious warlords. On the Danube frontier, the Avar Khaganate had overrun the Balkans, sacking cities and defiling citizens all the way up to the walls of Constantinople. Macedonia, Hellas, Illyria, Moesia, Pannonia—once the heartlands of the empire, were all lost to the warriors of the steppe. In the east, where the fabled wealth of the Orient had once enabled a miraculous imperial resurgence under the reign of Justinianus Augustus, lands had been annexed by Iranshahr(Sassanid Persia): Rome’s greatest rival. Aegypt, the most fertile land in the civilised world, along with the Levant and Mesopotamia, which had for centuries served as the economic backbone of Rome, had all fallen to the heathens at the shahanshah(king of kings)’s command. Jerusalem, Aleksandreia, Antiocheia—the beating hearts of empire—had all become fortresses of the enemy. Cathedrals were torn down, the true cross itself lost to the Persians, and replaced with temples dedicated to the sacrilegious worship of fire. All that remained of the glorious Imperium Romanum were Italia, Thrace, and Anatolia—three fiercely contested, impoverished, and war-ravaged provinces—and one single tattered army that had known only defeat. All seemed lost. Rome, a civilisation which had for a millennium dominated the Mediterranean world, was on the precipice of collapse. The barbarians were both figuratively and literally, at the gates, and they outnumbered the remaining imperial forces ten to one. The fate of Romania seemed sealed in stone, and resistance was to be prove futile.

But the power of Rome was found not in its cities, forts, and legions, rather, it was from its people that the true might of Rome was derived. The Roman people proved undaunted in the face of armageddon, and valiantly stood their ground against a seemingly insurmountable foe. For eight years, the last remaining Roman army in existence campaigned deep in the heartlands of Iranshahr, bringing army after army to their heel. A single defeat would mean destruction, but the Roman legions were fearless and victorious, carving out a new fate for their nation in the blood and smoke of the battlefield. In such times of crisis, the influence of individuals grows exponentially, and the Roman triumph in 630 AD, which allowed them to regain the vast majority of their provinces, was owed in no small part to the reigning sovereign, Flavius Heraclius. An usurper who seized the throne with an army from Carthage, Heraclius led his men into battle even in times when hope was all but lost, and prevailed. Here is a poem dedicated to his iron-will and his love for his people, written from the emperor’s perspective as he delivers a rousing speech to his last remaining army before they set out on their eight-year quest to retake their home.

Poem

Gaunt, pale faces

Mouths agape with terror

Blunt, worn swords

Hands trembling in fear

Pained, grating groans

Hearts riven by despair

Sullied, broken standards

Men deep in prayer

Where now are the Roman legions of yore

Shields and panoplies

Their tents radiant with spoils galore

Where now are the conquering heroes of old

Togas and laurels

Their spirits undaunted, ever bold

Where now is the glorious empire of God

Cities and forts

Immovable amidst the onslaught

Gone, I say!

Buried beneath sand and earth

Their bones lain bare for the Lord

But in this scorched and barren desolation

One pillar yet remains

Ashen and burnt

It stands proud in the face of ruin

Within your veins course the blood of Christ

Upon your flesh

You bear Rome’s stigmata

They can take our cities

Lay low our banners and purloin our gold

But never shall they vanquish the dream that is Rome

Hold dear your blades

There will be no surrender

When the Flood came to Noah

He built not a grave but the ark

When Hannibal besieged Rome

Scipio led men not to peace but for war

And now, as the heathens desecrate our temples

Defile our daughters and make slaves our sons

What excuse do we have to shun our duty

To our nation and to the Lord?

We shall fight in the mountains

In the rivers, the valleys, and among the hills

And if the need arises

We shall turn the streets of Constantinople into battlegrounds

Into Persia we shall go

Our spirit ablaze with conviction

We shall find in the blood and smoke of battle

The deliverance of God’s kingdom

Day and night we shall seek in the sword’s shadow

The gates of paradise, the fields of Elysium

With steel and fire we shall recover

Our Lord’s true cross

Stolen from us by the godless Shahanshah

The church will be our bulwark

Our faith set in stone

New Rome shall be our haven

Her walls guarded by God

Our flesh is the aegis

Of Christ’s inviolable sanctum

Listen, to the wailing of children and womenfolk

Mark well the sorrowful tune

Soon, the Persians too will hear the psalm of our woes

Man by man, horse by horse

City by city, fort by fort

We shall drive out the heathens

And take back our home

Stare not in bewilderment as I say

For although I am Caesar Augustus

Vice-regent of God

I speak to you now as man

Born of the same Roman stock

Borders fray, men die

But such is the command of our Lord

Now, let us follow the path of Aleksandros

Swear the oath of Marius

Adhere to the creed of Caesar

Retrace the footsteps of Constantine

Embrace the zeal of Justinian

And prevail, as Christ

Languishing on the Holy Cross

Bleeding and suffering

But with triumph near at hand

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Artist Credit: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/qQWg9R