On July 20, Intelligence Director Gwen was granted an audience with the king and delivered an important report.
After Michael III killed his co-emperor Bardas, he appointed his favored courtier Basil to inherit the title.
Nils remained commander of the Varangian Guard and had even been granted an honorary title that was rather difficult to pronounce.
"Bearer of the Imperial Sword? Looks like Nils is doing quite well. When Rurik expelled him back then, he unintentionally did him a favor."
At that very moment, in Constantinople, Nils faced a critical decision.
He looked up at the drifting white clouds while the voice of a eunuch echoed in his ears.
"My lord, stop hesitating. Basil has always treated you as his closest brother. He promises you will be richly rewarded once this succeeds."
"Give me a little more time to think."
Nils's mind was in turmoil.
He had only just survived last year's political upheaval, and now another coup was unfolding. Worse still, he could not avoid involvement—Basil had invited him into his faction to launch a conspiracy against Emperor Michael III.
By Odin, Roman coups happened far too often.
First, Michael III used Bardas to eliminate the Empress Dowager and the powerful minister Theoktistos.
Last year, Michael III used Basil to remove Bardas.
Now, barely a year later, Michael III and Basil distrusted each other, and Constantinople once again stood on the brink of bloody internal conflict.
"Very well. I agree."
Nils had no real choice.
If he refused, he likely would not leave the palace alive.
"Congratulations on choosing the winning side," the eunuch said, leading him out of the palace and toward the Varangian Guard barracks.
At sunset, most soldiers were eating or bathing.
When the order for emergency assembly sounded, they rushed to the parade ground.
"Men," Nils announced, "I have received an imperial decree. Remnants of Bardas's faction are plotting rebellion. The Emperor—Michael III—orders us to arrest the following individuals. Anyone who resists is to be killed."
Hearing this, junior officers and soldiers were delighted.
The previous year, when they had purged Bardas's supporters, they had made a fortune in loot. Now it seemed there were still remnants left in the city—another chance to get rich.
However, the paymaster Titus and two veteran centurions exchanged uneasy looks.
All the targets listed were close confidants of Michael III.
The emperor would never issue such an order.
There was only one plausible explanation:
The decree had been forged by the co-emperor Basil.
Titus was about to speak when he caught the cold, warning stare of the eunuch delivering the order.
He fell silent.
Time passed.
Two thousand soldiers waited on the parade ground for attack orders.
The summer night was hot and windless. Sweat soaked through their linen tunics. From somewhere nearby, sharp screams occasionally echoed in the darkness.
Around eight in the evening, another eunuch arrived with Basil's latest command:
Act immediately.
Nils wiped sweat from his forehead and led the troops out of the barracks.
They marched along the streets toward the Forum of Theodosius. Nearby residents sensed danger and quickly shut their doors and windows, extinguishing their lamps.
By coincidence, another armed force appeared on the western side of the square.
Under dim moonlight, the two groups confronted each other.
After half a minute of tense silence, someone from the other side shouted:
"Are you rebels?"
Nils replied at once:
"No. The Varangian Guard has always been loyal to the Emperor. Who do you serve?"
"The same. We serve the Emperor."
Mindful of their soldiers' morale, both commanders claimed loyalty to the emperor and insisted they had been ordered to suppress rebels.
After several more minutes of standoff, two figures stepped forward from the opposing side.
Seeing this, Nils and the eunuch Batitas approached them.
Standing beneath the shadow of marble columns, the parties cautiously tested one another until they confirmed they were both aligned with Basil.
"Our task is to secure the Forum of Theodosius, the Forum of Constantine, and Hagia Sophia. What is yours?" the other commander asked.
"To purge the residences of Bardas's supporters," Nils answered.
"You're lucky to get such a profitable assignment."
"Don't worry," Nils replied patiently.
"Basil will not forget your service."
Moments later, the force on the western side opened their ranks, allowing the Varangian Guard to pass.
"According to the plan," Nils ordered,
"the First, Second, Third, and Fourth Centuries proceed to—"
He divided the 2,000 soldiers into three groups and dispatched them to their targets.
He personally led 800 trusted men westward along the main avenue.
Soon they encountered another unidentified armed force.
The eunuch delivering orders climbed onto a nearby wagon to get a better view. After recognizing the leader's face, he screamed:
"Kill him!"
At the command, the front ranks of Varangian warriors instinctively swung their massive axes into the enemy formation.
The enemy's mail and lamellar armor could not withstand the crushing blows. Within five minutes, their line collapsed.
Survivors fled into narrow alleys.
The Varangians did not pursue.
Instead, they leaned against bloodstained walls, gasping for breath, wrapping wounds with strips of linen.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, Batitas carefully examined the body of the fallen leader. He removed a ruby ring from the man's right hand and explained to Nils:
"This is a token of authority—not spoils. I'm not trying to steal your loot."
Nils waved the matter off.
After a brief rest, they moved on to the first mansion.
The front gate was too sturdy to break, even with two-handed axes. Nils led his men around to the rear entrance and ordered them to climb over the walls into the courtyard, where they eliminated the remaining resistance inside the luxurious estate.
After catching his breath, Batitas urged him:
"Don't delay. The fighting isn't over. The enemy may counterattack at any moment."
"I know," Nils replied.
He assigned one company to tend the wounded and guard prisoners and valuables, then marched on to the next target.
They fought through the entire night.
By dawn, the eastern horizon glowed pale, and Constantinople greeted a new day in fear.
Through careful planning and decisive action, Basil had eliminated Michael III's faction in a single night and seized control of the city the world coveted.
At noon, he summoned the city's elites to Hagia Sophia.
Before the assembled crowd, he and his wife Eudokia received the Patriarch's blessing and formally proclaimed the deposition of Michael III.
When Basil placed the crown upon his head, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
People whispered about the new emperor's past, questioning his legitimacy.
Everyone knew his origins.
Basil had been born into a peasant family in the mountains of Macedonia. As a child, he had been captured and taken to Bulgaria. At age twenty-four, he escaped and returned to the Eastern Roman Empire, where he worked as a stablehand for a nobleman.
Later, he gained the favor of a noblewoman.
Eventually, he caught the attention of Emperor Michael III and rose to become a trusted courtier.
Standing at the edge of the church, Nils reflected on his new master's life.
He felt deeply shaken.
"After fifty-three long years, rising from a mountain peasant to the supreme ruler of the Eastern Roman Empire…"
He paused, staring at the crowned emperor.
"Has he truly been blessed by the gods?"
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