© 1980

It was early morning, and the mists, like shredded gray gauze, hung over the still waters of the Golden Horn. The city of Constantine slept, unaware that its emperor was dead.

A lone figure-unchallenged by the guards-left the Imperial Palace and made his way across the vast, green park behind the Senate. The man who walked so purposefully toward the Mangana Palace was John Cantacuzene, for the last thirteen years the actual ruler of the crumbling Byzantine Empire. Behind John was Andronicus III, already lying in his funeral bier.

Charming Andronicus had been inadvertently responsible for the murder of his younger brother and the subsequent early death of his own father. He had been forced to overthrow his furious grandfather, Andronicus II. The old man had sworn to kill him. In becoming emperor, Andronicus had been fully aided by his very good friend, John Cantacuzene one of Byzantium’s most brilliant minds.

But Andronicus III, once he had gained his heart’s desire, found that he preferred hunting, festivals, and beautiful women to the burdens of state. Those dull matters he left to his trusted friend, Chancellor John Cantacuzene. The chancellor worked hard. The government ran smoothly. The emperor’s every desire was gratified.

The emperor’s mother, Xenia-Marie, and his wife, Anna of Savoy, distrusted John Cantacuzene. They knew the chancellor was ambitious. Andronicus, however, refused to dismiss the friend who had served him so well.

But now Andronicus was dead, and his heir was barely eleven years old. The royal family had triumphed over John Cantacuzene by obtaining a deathbed signature from Andronicus appointing the Empress Anna sole regent for the boy emperor. There would be civil war. John Cantacuzene did not intend for the child’s vengeful Italian mother and her priests to rule the empire.