God and His Son Jesus Christ be praised, the accursed usurper and traitors and rebels in Kherson shall soon receive some of the punishment they deserve; even though death in battle is a quicker end than they deserve, I trust the Lord Almighty to make their eternal fate correspondingly more painful as recompense for His mercy in this transient world.
Yesterday, one of the courier ships I attached to Mauros's force returned to the imperial city with word that he had overthrown the Kentenaresion Gate of Kherson by means of a ram. And today I have the report from another that the Gate of Syagros is also down. Soon, I expect, the fleet will return with word of a town extinguished and with the persons of Bardanes and Helias, upon which I shall wreak my vengeance.
And now Theophylaktos comes with word that yet another courier is arrived in the imperial city. Strange to think how Kherson must now be days destroyed, even if word of its overfall reaches me only at this instance. I can, I think, afford to be generous to the messenger bringing me the news. And all the complaints I had over my treatment of Mauros are now shown up as the vaporous maunderings they were from the beginning. Put the fear of God and the Emperor in him and he performed well enough.
Treason! Treachery! Deceit! Cheating! Lies! Trickery! Cowardice! That pox-ridden pile on the arse of humanity, Ibouzeros Gliabanos, has sent an army to Kherson to keep my men from punishing the place as it deserves. How are my soldiers to oppose Kherson and the barbarous Khazars at the same time?
I should have killed him. I should have castrated him. I should have slit his tongue. I should have slit his nose. I should have blinded him. Come to the Queen of Cities again, Ibouzeros Gliabanos. Come. I shall coax you with honeyed words once the rebellion is put down. Come. You will like it so well, you will never want to leave. You will never leave- not in one piece.