The result of the Battle of Zages quickly reached the court in Tbilisi that afternoon, and King Alexander of Georgia, upon hearing the news, slumped in his throne.
"It's all over," Alexander I thought, collapsing.
The elite of Kartli and the Monaspa Legion were completely annihilated, and other regions had either defected or were unable to provide support. He could almost envision the tragic scene when Tbilisi would fall.
After a while, King Alexander, looking as if he had aged 10 years in an instant, sat blankly on his throne, weakly waving his hand to dismiss his attendants and officials. "Everyone except David and Sar, please withdraw for now. Let me be in peace."
While the Georgian royal family in the Tbilisi court mourned the kingdom's impending fate, Crown Prince Vakhtang of Georgia, who had been escorted to Mtskheta, was properly settled.
After he was securely confined by the enemy in a well-furnished room with no defects, the Crown Prince could finally close his eyes and ponder what he should do next.
Should he escape? Setting aside whether he could successfully escape, even if he did manage to flee back to Tbilisi, it would probably just be creating conditions for his next capture.
Should he choose to surrender? No matter what, he was, after all, the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Georgia, unlike his inexperienced younger brother. Not to mention, he fully understood the consequences of him, as Crown Prince, choosing to cooperate with the enemy. Even though Georgia was undoubtedly doomed to fail, Vakhtang still did not want to lose even the last vestiges of this ancient kingdom when it fell.
What about suicide? No, no, no, he had only been newly married for a few years, and had no children. Wouldn't dying like this be even more pathetic?
Ultimately, Vakhtang could only continue to sit gloomily on the bed in his room, temporarily setting these thoughts aside. "Aside from all that, the Bosporus Romans' arrangements are truly quite proper," Vakhtang said casually, patting the bedsheet woven from silk, half-helplessly and half-sincerely praising his enemies.
Just as he was about to end his unlucky day and lie down to sleep, the servant guarding him outside the door gently knocked, asking, "Prince Vakhtang, an important person requests to see you. What are your thoughts?"
Is it the Bosphorus Caesar? Vakhtang sat up from the bed, stroked his chin for a moment, then indicated that he had no objection. Otherwise, what objection could he possibly have in front of Caesar Manuel?
Soon the door opened and the visitor stepped in. To Vakhtang's surprise, the visitor was not Caesar Manuel, the enemy he had met on the battlefield, but his younger brother, Prince Dimitrios of Imereti, who had defected early.
"Brother, it's been a while, ah… ah haha…" Seeing his captive elder brother's surprised and disgusted expression, Dimitrios awkwardly laughed and greeted him, trying to ease the tension between them.
In response, Vakhtang just let out a gloomy snort and remained silent, indicating that he had nothing to say to his brother, this useless person who had groveled before the Romans.
Although Dimitrios had anticipated his elder brother's reaction, he was still quite ashamed and annoyed. His young and tender face immediately flushed red, his dark brown pupils widened, and he looked as if he was about to speak.
For a moment, Prince Dimitrios even considered trying to frame his arrogant elder brother to make him suffer a bit. But remembering that Manuel was not the kind of upright monarch who would readily believe one-sided stories, and that he and Vakhtang were, after all, brothers, he ultimately swallowed his anger and conveyed the message that the Bosphorus Caesar had asked him to deliver.
"Brother, in any case, Caesar has sent me here to convey something to you." Because he was angered by his elder brother, Dimitrios was even a little incoherent.
"Oh?" Hearing that it was the Bosphorus Caesar's intention, Vakhtang immediately perked up.
"Speak."
Upon hearing this, Dimitrios paused, then directly revealed the conditions Manuel had asked him to convey:
"Caesar's intention is that he hopes you, Brother, will govern Kartli for him after Tbilisi changes hands. And before that, Caesar will absolutely not make things difficult for you."
That evening, Manuel, stationed in Zages, received the message from Dimitrios on behalf of his brother,
"My elder brother has agreed."
Receiving this reply, a faint smile appeared on Manuel's face: it seemed Dimitrios understood the necessity of not concealing information from him, and he wouldn't have to go back and forth, wasting effort.
After subtly gaining leverage over Vakhtang Bagration, Manuel, apart from sending a message for his subordinates in Mtskheta to discuss the details with the Georgian Crown Prince, primarily focused his energy on how to quickly conquer the city of Tbilisi.
Although the Tbilisi court, currently beset by internal and external difficulties, was certainly no match for him, if he were to slowly advance into Tbilisi, the Black Sheep Turkmen might already have annexed Kakheti and encroached upon Kartli.
"I absolutely cannot let such a large part of the achievements I worked so hard for be stolen!" Manuel thought to himself.
It was clear that a swift victory was needed. In that case, he would, as before, bring out his beloved artillery. To give these Caucasus mountaineers a small shock from the age of firearms, even though they had, in fact, already received one…
Since the main city of Tbilisi, located in the river valley, had no natural defenses after the fall of Zages, the Bosporus Army, which had suffered only double-digit casualties in the previous battle, successfully surrounded Tbilisi on the morning of the third day after the battle, cutting off communication between the Georgian capital and the surrounding areas.
Alexander I, inside the city, was momentarily grief-stricken, believing that a fierce Bosporus assault was imminent.
However, to the confusion of the Tbilisi court, the Romans did not order an attack for the next five days, but instead leisurely maintained the siege without attacking, at most constructing a few catapults to hurl stones at the Tbilisi city walls.
This delighted the city's populace, and some officials even believed that the previous Battle of Zages had actually blunted the Bosporus's momentum, dealing a significant blow to their enemies' morale.
Only Alexander I, who was considered a seasoned veteran, clearly realized that Tbilisi was actually in a dead end, and that the other side simply did not want to launch an active assault.
But their actions puzzled even him; why were the enemies so reluctant to storm the city walls? To reduce unnecessary casualties? Yet, as far as he knew, when Mtskheta fell, the Romans had directly conscripted a group of marginalized individuals to attack the city; how could they be merciful now?
Fortunately, his questions were soon answered.
Because on the morning of the seventh day of the siege, Alexander, who had gone to inspect the city walls early, clearly saw several cannons lined up in the enemy's position below…