Time for a real update...
Homelands
Chapter Seventeen: Shores of Destiny
Part 4
Prelude:
In 1180 the Finnish revolt left thousands dead in Prussia's most often forgotten territory. Southern Finland was first settled by the Prussians in 1124 during the reign of Eadbert. The region soon proved to be an economic flop but within 60 years thing were turning around. Even so it remained out of the mind of the Prussian nobility, ruled by a few poor souls whose job it was to prevent the expansion of Sweden. The Finns were practically slaves to the Prussian nobility there, worked into desolation by the counts who acted without input from Memelbuhr. During the spring of 1179 a plague swept through Finland from the north. In Ziemelængrád, the capital of Prussian Finland, the Prussians locked themselves in, refusing to give supplies to the beleaguered pagans. After a year of starvation and mistreatment the Finns began a series of revolts and battles aided by their pagan counterparts. In March of 1180 the tribes of the north moved in to help their countrymen, making a provincial issue a national one. The Prussian Guard infamous for the putting down of Catholic rebellions were called into action. Part monk and part soldier they wore only black and were the ultimate solution to religious rebellions. With Sviendorog as their commander they sailed north to relieve Ziemelængrád and retake the region.
The ethnic make up of Prussian Finland: in pink are Finns; in red are Prussians; in blue are Ingrians.
June 4th, 1180
Sviendorog did not like working with the Prussian Guard. Many of the common soldiers had taken a vow of silence, so the camp remained eerily quiet. Their commander wore only monk robes, even in battle. He spoke very little, only when he had to. Even then they would be cryptic or just grunts. The commander was an old man, older than Gunvald, obviously well seasoned from wars as far back as the reign of Eadbert. Outside the city was under siege, many times Sviendorog had conducted sieges from the outside, but he was never the besieged.
A member of the Prussian Guard, usually referred to as a "Guardsman".
"You think we can hold that many peasants out?"
"I am certain of it," the commander said in a calm, chilling tone. "These peasants have never fought against the nameless and faceless Prussian Guard."
"Few have, how do you remain in shape?"
"We have our ways. We take pride in doing the work of God and King." His voice always sent chills down Sviendorog's spine and the prince turned to move just slightly farther away from the commander. Only a man as evil as King Eadbert could concoct the idea of the Prussian Guard. None had names, referring to each only as "brother" or "commander" depending on rank. In battle all their helmets were the exact same, they truly became faceless. But what made them truly terrifying was their willingness to kill anyone deemed to be an enemy. The prince excused himself from the room and headed to his own bunk. It was a frightening thought, the coming carnage would be something real for him.
June 5th, 1180
Sviendorog was in the town center sampling fruits in the market. Even with the siege outside the people of Ziemelængrád tried to go on living their lives. Under shortly after the second mass the church bells began ringing an alarm. The assault was here. Sviendorog put the fruit down and ran toward the city walls. He was joined by an increasing number of soldiers and militia men. At the main gate soldiers put in two more bars behind the wooden doors and helped prop them with their own strength. Sviendorog followed the Prussian Guard onto the walls. Their commanders shouted prayers instead of orders, but as the ladders from below were thrown up against the ramparts they drew their swords and positioned their shields. Their commander turned to the prince and from under the helmet said, "We need a kill, don't just maim them."
And with that the first heads began poking over with spears and other weapons. Down the line the Guard waited for one man to get to the top before pushing his ladder away from the wall, watching him fall backwards with it. Sviendorog slashed at a lightly armored pagan soldier. The soldier screamed in pain as blood poured from a gaping wound on his chest. The defenders pushed him over the wall, clearing space for more defenders. In one part of the wall the defenders were not Guards, rather local soldiers, and they were quickly losing ground to the incoming attackers. The Prince grabbed two Guards and pointed out the faltering line. They followed him over to the militiamen and began their deadly attack into the growing number of pagans.
Never before had Sviendorog seen battle so personally. Even when he did fight in the past it had always been from horseback. Here the fight was up close a personal. Too much for Sviendorog's tastes. He thought as he removed his sword from its sheath inside a man's side that this would eventually have to come to an end. As attackers died they were thrown off. Prussian bodies still littered the walls. Eventually below a crash could be heard as the gate finally broke apart. Prussian Guards ran down to help hold back what could only be described as a mob. Sviendorog too turned to head down there, when he felt a clawing at his feet. He turned to see a soldier gasping on the ground.
"T'was an honor to serve by me lordship's side." Sviendorog smiled under his armored helmet but nodded and gave him a salute which was meekly returned. He headed down with the Guards and joined in the growing fray. The Guards formed a perfect line, shield to shield to three lines deep. The second and third row used spears to attack over the first and knock down enemies. If a Guard would die he would quickly be replaced and a hole never seemed to form.
As the day wore on the ladders were all broken, the gate was blocked with wagons and rubble, and the pagans were forced to route north and out of Prussian territory. Sviendorog was glad that the horrible day was over, and that he could march out against foes on ground he was more comfortable with.
"I am afraid you father has removed you from command, my lord." The Guard commander said."It has nothing to do with your service or loyalty. He say's your attention is direly required in Marienscír. I shall take over here."
Panic flooded over his body, Marienscír? Was it under attack? Rebellion? Heresy? Was Meinekinus safe just miles outside of it?
"Move quickly young Leofricson."
June 8th, 1180
Sviendorog arrived to a Marienscír bathed in flowers and colorful streamers. The cathedral wrung joyous songs from its towers and even the old grey castle in its center was cheerful. It looked nothing like the Marienscír he remembered. His father waited for him at the harbor with his personal body guard. Valikaila and Meinekinus were there waiting as well.
"Where is Bozislava?" Sviendorog asked, slightly perplexed.
"The bride-to-be is getting ready for her big day tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Father..." Sviendorog held his anger back, but his fist clenched.
Gunvald stepped closer to his son and whispered, "The sooner Valikaila and Bozislava can produce a male heir, the sooner a Leofricson will sit on the throne of Bohemia. We have no time to lose. The King of Bohemia could die tomorrow in his state, and if he does his uncle will inherit the realm, if Bozislava has a son there is nothing he can do to take it from us!"
"You called me back from Finland for this?"