The Alexandriad: A Personal History of the Times of King Alexander I the Conquerer

LordTempest · Nov 29, 2012

The Alexandriad: A Personal History of the Times of King Alexander I the Conqueror

Table of Contents:

Introduction:

Prologue: A Tale of Two Empires

Prologue: A Tale of Two Brothers

Book One: The Invasion of England

Book Two: The Norman Rebellion

Book Three: The English War of Independence

Book Four: The Reconquest of Wales

Book Five: The Liberation of Lothian

Book Six: The Smallpox Plague of 1131

Book Seven: In Sickness and In Hibernia

Book Eight: The Conquest of Hibernia (Part One)

Book Nine: The Conquest of Hibernia (Part Two)

Book Ten: The Conquest of Hibernia (Part Three)

LordTempest · Nov 29, 2012

Time in its irresistible and ceaseless flow carries along on its flood all created things, and drowns them in the depths of obscurity, no matter if they be quite unworthy of mention, or most noteworthy and important, and thus, as the tragedian (Sophocles in his play, Ajax) says, "he brings from the darkness all things to the birth, and all things born envelops in the night.”

But the tale of history forms a very strong bulwark against the stream of time, and to some extent checks its irresistible flow, and, of all things done in it, as many as history has taken over, it secures and binds together, and does not allow them to slip away into the abyss of oblivion.
I, Anna, daughter of the Emperor Alexios and the Empress Eirene, born and bred in the purple, am not wholly ignorant of literature having studied the works of Aristotle and the dialogues of Plato since childhood. Nor am I wholly without knowledge in the subjects of rhetoric, mathematics and the sciences – or without experience with the Greek or the various Pretannike languages. I do not wish to boast of my own ability - for that is a sin – but I feel that it is not boasting to state what by nature and my own zeal for knowledge and learning have given me, nor for what gifts Almighty God has granted to me from up high – from both the time of my birth and thereafter.

Our esteemed author and heroine Anna Kommene, Princess of Byzantium, at around the age of fifteen – about a year before her marriage to Alexander.

I intend in this writing of mine to recount the deeds done by my husband Alexandros, so they should certainly not be lost in silence, or swept away, as it were, onto the flood of time and into the sea of obscurity. Unfortunately there is little I know of my husbands exploits from before the time of our marriage, and so I fear that there is little I can recount from before his ascension to the throne.

I approach this daunting task not with the intention of flaunting my own skill as an author but with the desire that a subject as significant as my great husband shall not be consigned to obscurity by future generations. For even the greatest of men, if their works and deeds not preserved in written words and handed down to remembrance, become extinguished in the obscurity of silence.

Although I fear that the tongues of suspicion may wag and the whisperers of detraction may whisper that my work is mere self-glorification, I must begin my account on an autobiographical note, for without an explanation of how my betrothal to my dear Alexandros came to be I feel I cannot continue with my tale...

Mr. Capiatlist · Nov 29, 2012

Color me intrigued.

Adams · Nov 30, 2012

A Tanzhang AAR. I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

ve3609 · Nov 30, 2012

an AAR based on the Alexiad? Im in

LordTempest · Nov 30, 2012

Thank you all for the comments! I hope you'll all stay on board for the duration of the AAR.

Mr. Capiatlist: Welcome, it's an honour! I certainly hope you'll continue to find the AAR intriguing.

Adams: Welcome! It's nice to hear I have something of a reputation over here in AARland. (I hope it's positive...)

Ve3609: Welcome aboard! I must say at this point that it is only loosely based on the Alexiad. It would be pretty limiting from a writers POV (and probably boring from a readers' POV too) to strictly emulate an existing text or strictly conform to another' style. I hope however that I manage to do the Alexiad and more importantly, the real Anna Kommene some justice while at the same time making her a character all my own; it's a fine balance.

LordTempest · Nov 30, 2012

The Emperor Alexios - who was also my father - had been of great service to the (Byzantine) Roman Empire both before and after he ascended to the throne. Compared to his lesser contemporaries, he showed a remarkable bravery and was a great lover of danger. In his fourteenth year he was determined to join the arduous campaign the then Emperor, Diogenes was conducting against the hated Persians (Seljuq Turks.) from the east. He once publicly declared his animosity against the saracen barbarians, and declared that should he ever should come to blows with them, he would make his sword drunk with their blood. Of such a warlike temperament was the boy.

Now my father's temperament and brilliance as a general are well known, and his mostly triumphal record against the Moslem pretenders (the Seljuk Sultanate of Rum) need not be recorded here, but what is lesser known and worth recording is my father's aptitude as a shrewd diplomat and his record as a peacemaker. There exist a number of small-minded and frankly, jealous, indviduals who dismiss my father as an iron-fisted brute; nothing more. Such men are clearly looters and oath-breakers of no piety and little virtue, and likely the spawn of lustful, gluttonous sloths and rather jilted four-legged mammals whom are reknowned across the known world for their treachery and decitfulness; I believe in these western parts of Christendom they are called “Normans.”

Alexios was both a man of war and a man of peace, and far-sighted in the art of diplomacy. This would be unbeknownst to most, but as his daughter I can reveal that these traits were self-evident in all who knew him. Alexios foresaw the great saracen threat to Christendom, and – while it was and remains for certain that the mighty and everlasting Roman Empire could repel any such Moslem invasion which dared to press its inpregnable borders on its own – had the magnamity and wisdom to propose an alliance with the Catholic kngdoms of the west, a bridge over the river of faith between the two rocks of Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity; which were originally of the same stone until split by the forceful hammer that was the Great Schism.

The greatest of the western kingdoms at the time was the Empire of the Franks, known inaccurately to the people of these lands as the Holy Roman Empire. (of course there can be only one Roman Empire, and that is the one ruled from Constantinople, in which I was born into.) The Franks are not a sensible people – even when compared to the weasel-lovers of Normandy or other such barbarians – and elect their rulers, rather than have them appointed in accordance with the laws of primogeniture. In practice, the sons of Frankish “Emperors” do inherit from their fathers but this is by no means guaranteed and the fortunes of the great Frankish families ebb and flow with a frequency which we who live in the more civilised kingdoms are unaccustomed to. As one might guess, this makes diplomatic marriages to Frankish nobles a risky prospect. To make matters worse, Konrad, the son of the reigning Frankish ruler at the time, was already married to a wrathful and most indecent Norman “woman.” named Constance. I hear that her mother was most exceptionally uncouth, indeed so shameful a woman was she that no record of her even exists in the Hauteville family geneaology. Suffice it to say, whereas I was born in the Purple chamber, Constance was likely conceived in a scarlet one.

My father therefore had to choose his suitors carefully. It was originally intended for my sister Maria (the future Queen of Georgia) to marry a Frankish noble, for I was bethrothed to a Macedonian noble named Nikephoros of the house of Bryennios. I remember very little of him, but he must not have had a strong constitution or have been able to hold his liquor, for he died after ingesting only half a glass of ale.

By what surely must be a case of divine providence – for there is clearly no other logical explanation – a letter from the Duke of Holland arrived at court a mere three hours after Nikephoros died proposing a bethrothal: Princess Anna Kommena to Duke Alexander of Holland. This was the first I'd heard of either Alexandros or Holland, but apparently Alexandros had quite the colourful past, of which I will divulge of what little I know later on.

Quite the colourful past indeed...

Despite being a relatively obscure Duke with few holdings and no claims at the time of our bethrothal, my father consented to the marriage rather qucikly. He must have been very taken with Alexandros, for he also sent a substantial dowry – paid almost a year in advance – of around 3000 gold pieces[1], and to be escorted personally by a large honour guard of barbarian mercenaries from the north. This struck me as odd at the time, why he insisted on using barbarian mercenaries hitherto unattached to the Empire instead of Roman soldiers or the even Varaginians, but soon it would all be made clear to me...

Notes:

[1] I'm not very fond of cheating and I hate to do it, but in order to get this AAR off the ground quickly I had to give myself 3000 gold and 500 piety at the start. If I didn't do that just once, I fear this would turn out to be a very dull and boring AAR indeed.

Mr. Capiatlist · Nov 30, 2012

Very interesting. A Dutch Emperor? This I want to see.

I don't blame you for cheating, either. When writing a story it is important to focus on the story and not let the little details get in the way.

ve3609 · Nov 30, 2012

a full scale invasion of England? excellent! reclaim Britannia for the Roman Empire

DisgruntledLemming · Dec 1, 2012

Hm... A little-bit-bloodier-than-the-OTL Glorious Revolution it'd seem... I'll watch intently.

Avindian · Dec 1, 2012

A very interesting idea for an AAR! And, of course, your AARs are always fantastic.

scholar · Dec 2, 2012

That really is quite the colorful past: An honest greedy cruel kinslaying zealot who is a brilliant tactician known for his patience and his base born birth.

LordTempest · Dec 2, 2012

Update time!

Mr. Capiatlist: I'm not sure that I want to become Emperor of that all-powerful grey monolith actually, I think it may have more fun to smash it into one thousand and one little pieces.

Nothing's for certain at this stage though, so perhaps Alexander will become Emperor but it isn't a goal I'll be actively working towards at this point in time.

ve3609: Which Roman Empire do you mean?

Prince of Savoy: Welcome aboard! Now that you mention the Glorious Revolution, in retrospect perhaps I should have made Alexander a heretic?

Avindian: Always nice to have you on board, and I'm glad you like the concept! It sure makes a change for the usual "Scandinavian Invasion" AARs, doesn't it?

Scholar: Welcome! I'm impressed you're actually fluent in "Traitenese", I still have to move the mouse over every now and then to see which trait is which.

o

LordTempest · Dec 2, 2012

The Duchy of Holland – before it was ruled by my husband Alexandros – was ruled by the ancestors of Gerulf (or Gerolf) of Friesland. Gerulf was a brave and ambitious soul, who repelled the Norse barbarians whom had settled in what we would later call the Duchies of Holland and Gelre. Little else is known of Gerulf, except that died twenty years before his time, possibly honourably on the field of battle; such a fate would certainly suit his temperament. Gerulf's successors – of whom almost all are called Dirk – are less worthy of mention. In fact, few are even notable – apart from being club-footed, slow-witted cretins if one counts that as notable. One exception is the daughter of Floris I (the seventh Duke of Holland), Bertha, who married into the Frankish Capet dynasty despite being both hunchbacked and a stuttering, illiterate fool.

The one Duke of Holland apart from Alexios that we need to concern ourselves with is Dirk V, son and successor to Floris I. He was an eccentric sort for a noble, who married a lady well below his station. Married eventually I should say, for neither monogamy nor pre-marital chastity were common amongst the well-to-do in Holland at that time; I trust this is no longer the case. Dirk would go on to have two sons: one born before his marriage; Alexandros, and one born after; Floris, a rather portly young child who was named after his grandfather. That was not the only bond that was shared between grandfather and grandson, for they both possessed deformed feet, and had to limp from place to place with the assistance of a cane.

Alexandros on the other hand, was in many ways the defining youth of his generation and a fine example of Christian manhood. He was healthy, fit and strong – though not exceptionally so; he was still above-average – and well-versed in the military classics, having memorised the campaigns of his illustrious namesake, Alexandros as well as Hannibal, Africanus, Antony, Caesar, Augustus, Claudius, (whom along with William of Normandy was of special interest to him for some reason.) Trajan and the other ancient masters of war at an early age. Unlike lesser men of war, he studied logistics and organisation with vigour and earned himself a solid understanding of these concepts before his fifteenth year, and was also competent in numbers and siege warfare. Alexandros also benefited from a deep, if not penetrating knowledge of religious matters and was a devout and pious man for the rest of his life. From the age of six onwards, he would make sure without fail to attend the nearest place of worship every Sunday morning and Wednesday evening, often taking myself along once we were married, and our children once they were born. Alexandros took a keen interest in the spiritual development of his subjects, and it was he who would ultimately introduced me to the Catholic faith.

Understandably though, such a boy was rarely shown the love and compassion from his parents that all children need – though their fathers may sometimes disagree. He could be cold, and at times was quite merciless in dealing with those who had wronged him, though by no means was he a sadist who delighted in such cruelty. His acumen in numbers made him wealthy, and his detractors may deride him as being guilty of avarice but in my mind such individuals are merely jealous of the wealth of Kings and their betters. He was never able to forgive his family for their lack of compassion towards him, nor for the way they treated him after the birth of Floris, whom they spoiled with food and luxuries. Anyone with an intellect surpassing that of a farmyard mule could see that Alexandros was the worthy and rightful heir to the Duchy, and anyone with a sense of justice surpassing that of Pontius Pilate could see that as the eldest, Alexandros had the right to inherit the Duchy of Holland once his father passed away, but the influential men at court: weak, foolish, self-serving and judgemental; dumb as well as blind, could not.

I will now divulge for the first time the tale of how Alexandros became Duke of Holland, taking care as my husband would want me to to tell the full truth as to what happened.

Dirk V of Holland died a natural death in the sixth month of the 1091st year after the birth of Christ, leaving his eldest son Alexandros in his thirteenth year (born in the ninth month of the year of our lord, 1077) and his youngest son in his seventh. By all the laws of nature and justices which govern the lives of all men, Alexandros would have been named Dirk's successor as the eldest son, but, blinded by the circumstances surrounding Alexandros' birth, Floris was installed as successor instead by the foolish courtiers who surrounded – nay suffocated – the late Duke.

Young Alexandros – whom unlike his sibling was old and intelligent enough to understand what a Duke actually was and did – was incensed, and understandably so. Unfortunately he had no legal basis to challenge the succession because those suffocating courtiers either tricked or forced the ailing Dirk to name Floris as his successor before his untimely death. When one looks at the situation from Alexandros' point of view, and taking care to weigh up all the facts mentioned earlier, one can understand why he took the course of action that he did. Alexandros, never one to shirk from an unpalatable task if it needed to be done, killed his younger brother in cold blood with three thrusts of his dagger. He did this in the middle of the day and in broad daylight, when the palace guards would be able to hear his brothers' screams. He was not craven enough to perpertrate such a crime at night, where he might've acted in secret. In any case, acting so deviously would have diminished his moral authority and Alexnadros had nothing to be ashamed of. When the guards rused into the late Floris' room and demanded to know what happened, Alexandros famously turned to them and bent down on one knee, offering his bloody dagger to the guards with both hands. His reply to the guards question is now legendary: “I cannot tell a lie, I did it for the sake of my honour and birthright.” The guards were so taken aback by the young man's sraightforward honesty that they did not arrest him. But let him go free.

Such an act of violence against a young child perpertrated by another young child shocked the court establishment, and there were calls to have the young Alexandros imprisoned or even beheaded. Fearful for the succession, the power-hungry courtiers quickly appointed his sister Mathilde as successor and hurried her to safety in Zeeland, where they hoped she would serve as a figurehead while they wielded power from behind the throne. Alexandros, whose genius and foresight was evident at a young age, anticipated this move, and had under his employ an assassin posing as one of the young girl's bodyguard. Alexandros was not without his scruples and would never have slain an innocent himself, but regrettably the situation called for it and so the order was given to poison Muthilde while she slept – it was the most merciful death one could be given.

The young Alexandros showed a great deal of remorse for the death of his sister, and spent much of his remaining years of youth in the service of the church as atonement for his sin. Henceforth he would light a candle for her every year on the anniversary of her death in the cathederal in Tholen, where in the cemetary nearby she is buried. He continued this tradition without fail well into his advanced years.

His devout Christian faith made him honest, at times brutally so – as was evident when he confessed to his role in the murders of Floris and Mathilde. He may have faced banishment or imprisonment, were it not for the fact that were Alexandros removed from the succession, the Duchy would, by the arcane laws of succession used in Holland before Alexandros' reforms, legally fall to the Capet King of the Franks. The false kaiser in Nassau would not have that, so he wisely backed Alexandros' legitimate claim to the Duchy in order to placate the western Franks. I shall never understand the fractal nature of Frankish politics, with all its internal plotting and scheming – such things never occurred in the stable Roman Empire I grew up in.

But I digress, and must return to telling the tale of Alexandros' invasion of England...

Stuyvesant · Dec 6, 2012

Equal parts Alexiad and Procopius' Secret History, it seems. The descriptions of the Normans were particularly <ahem> colorful.

Alexander/Alexandros certainly does things his own way and he makes no excuses for it (or rather, Anna does not. Well, no, that's not true. She makes excuses all the time. But she doesn't present them as excuses. If that makes any sense). I do wonder where we go from here - besides Britain, obviously - and whether there will be clear ties between Alexander and the Roman Empire. Perhaps some timely crusading to secure the southern flank of the Roman Empire?

morningSIDEr · Dec 6, 2012

Annoyed that I missed this until now! I'm a great fan of your work and this is proving as enjoyable a read as ever. I do have to feel for poor Alexandros, he's had a tough time of it. Clearly he was entirely justified in the violent murder of his brother and sister, he had no other choice the unlucky chap.

Along with his colourful past so too Anna's colourful, acerbic style which I'm enjoying, some choice insults thus far including 'weasel-lovers' and ' jilted four-legged mammals'. I am, of course, subscribed!

Omen · Dec 6, 2012

The most unreliable of narrators, but a fascinating story.

Viden · Dec 7, 2012

Suscribed!

LordTempest · Dec 9, 2012

Sorry for the delay everyone, last week was a bit of a rollercoaster - with a tad more downs than ups. I hope this update will prove worth the wait.

Stuyvesant: Welcome, it's great to have you on board! I did take a little inspiration from Procopius actually - one of my original story ideas was a Secret History of Harold Godwinson, who becomes a sort of Justinian-like figure once he repels the Normans and Vikings and goes on to unite Britain while indulging in all sorts of depravities along the way - but then I thought, Saxon England? pfft...

morningSIDEr: Better somewhat late then never as they say; it's always great to have you following! I'm actually surprised you latched on to the assassinations of Alexander's siblings but not Nikephoros - when I was writing that little paragraph on the betrothal I kept on saying to myself: "That's rather morningSIDEr-esque."

As for the weasel insults, that's based on a little story I heard at a Greek wedding once about weasels being a bad luck charm for brides around wedding time because in some parts of Greece weasels are believed to be possessed by the spirits of jilted brides, or something like that. Robert de Hauteville (of whom it must be said the real Anna Kommene had seemingly the utmost respect for.) was nicknamed "the weasel", the implication being that in Anna's mind at least he is in fact part-weasel, a link established from the result of some kind of "depravity" on his father's part. Anna seems to treat such liaisons between Normans and mammals of the Mustelidae family as commonplace, judging by some of her comments in this update...

Omen: Hmmm, I think that Anna Kommene may be the real reason why wives aren't allow to testify for or against their husbands in a court of law... Welcome aboard!

Viden: Hey, I remember you! The rabidly pro-Blanqui guy from Tommy's Rheinland AAR, right? Welcome aboard!

LordTempest · Dec 9, 2012

Like much of what I have already told, the initial invasion of England took place before my marriage to Alexandros, and so I must reiterate that much of what I state here I have no first hand experience of. Alexandros was perhaps unusual among husbands, for he did take me along during his campaigns and battles and therefore allowed me to experience more of war than perhaps a woman in good conscience should experience.

Once more, I digress.

Britain is a vast country, one which is populated by a diverse selection of peoples: Celts, Saxons, Normans – these are the main three. Any ruler of any part of Britain must take care to placate these ethnic groups by favouring the weaker one over the stronger two in order to foster divisions between these three, lest they unite together and topple the ruling minority regime. The Norman kings, in their vast and almost unparalleled ignorance, failed to do this, and like in the manner of a Pagan chiefdom they favoured their own kind at the expense of all others, condemning the Britons to a position of near-slavery and the Saxons to a subservience akin to that which enlightened Rome suffered towards the barbaric Visigoths shortly after the sacking of Rome. As one may assume, the Saxons and Britons who did not flee to the western outlands [Wales] resented this treatment and therefore were ample tensions for Alexandros to exploit. Saxon warriors and Briton men from the outlands and from across the channel flocked to the liberators' banner, and would form the bulk of soldiers in Alexandros' victorious army.[1]

It was however the Hollandmen who formed the vanguard, led onto the shores of the Cinque ports by Alexandros himself, clad in glistening chain-mail armour with sword in hand and shield by his side. He and around thirteen score and fifteen other of his fellow Hollanders played the crucial part of securing the docks for landing and burning the Norman boats at dock before they could embark and intercept the bulk of Alexandros' invasion fleet at sea. Curiously, the Normans didn't think of engaging the invading fleet at sea with their numerous cogs and longboats and galleys at all despite their superior numbers; it was as if the very concept of naval warfare was completely alien to them...

Norman armies flee in terror at the sight of Duke Alexander's vanguard.

The docks of Dover – then as now the most important port in the region, if I recall correctly – were guarded by the harbourmaster: a Saxon man of great height and berth possessing the strength of ten men, with arms as thick as the trunks of large oak trees and a fearsome Varangian poleaxe as tall as three ordinary men which could fell a castle tower with one chop[2]. His name, like so many other names of men of low birth, was not recorded and was lost to the river of time but here he shall be immortalised forever in the pages of my history, his deeds saved from the depths of obscurity and put into the place of everlasting posterity.

The harbourmaster had within him the spirit of an untamed bull, and charged recklessly into the vanguard force, slaying men with a swipe of his mighty poleaxe with the ease one slices through cheese or butter. He slew two men, then four, then six, before coming to the mightiest foe he would ever face in his relatively short life: Alexandros. Not in the slightest intimidated by the harbourmaster's girth or fighting prowess, Alexandros met the challenge head on. Armed with only a sword and shield, he thrust forth at the harbourmaster with great speed. The harbourmaster swung his mighty poleaxe with all his might, with a force that could cut even a fully armoured man in half with ease. Alexandros saw his chance, and with the greatest poise and agility flung his shield right at the haft of his opponent's axe. Such a move was beyond daring; it was almost suicidal. If the timing was not right, or if Alexandros had moved an inch or two leftwards while performing the shield blow his head would surely have met the blade with disastrous results. But no, Alexandros was no ordinary man and his timing was perfect. His hand shattered and his cumbersome axe stopped in mid-swing, the harbourmaster was now paralysed, giving Alexandros the precious split seconds he needed to perform a mighty upward slash with his sword, cutting the mighty poleaxe in two and piercing even the thick armour of the Saxon. And with a mighty yell, the harbourmaster fell to earth with all the force of the mightiest tree having met the blade of a sturdy axe. Without the aid of their greatest warrior, the rest of the hybrid Saxon-Norman defence force scattered like hordes of tiny ants in the shadow of the footsteps of a great man... As indeed they were.

With the port of Dover secured, the landing forces (4400 men in all) lay siege to the County of Kent. The Normans meanwhile rallied their forces (about equal in size) in Essex under the inspired leadership of King William II the “Badger-pucker” (I feel that the mention of his true epithet would be much too shocking for my readers and certainly not the sort of thing a true lady of true virtue and noble birth such as myself should be mentioning in a history such as this. Even by Norman standards, I found his “exploits” a bit too much to take...) and marched with due haste to sally the besieged garrison at Dover castle. At around this time “Emperor” Heinrich decided to invade the heathen Pommeranians and sent a near constant stream of requests for Alexandros to join his invasion army as marshal. These requests were promptly denied, and possibly contributed to the tensions between Alexandros and the false “Emperor” in Nassau.

Alexander mobilises his “Byzantine” reserves to counter the Norman threat.

It was at around this time that I came of marriageable age, and our betrothal was completed. Marriage is a difficult time for any bride, but holding a wedding on the same afternoon as a castle assault while those damned Normans are firing arrows at the bridal party is especially trying...

...And the fact the celebrant was shot in the eye while he was performing the service and happened to spill his eye-blood all over my precious white wedding dress did not in any way ease my tensions...

...On the plus side though Bishop Damaes did help us win the Battle of Rochester. Rochester was perhaps the most decisive battle of the war, and also one of the very few engagements that Alexandros did not personally fight or lead troops in. I doubt there is a single bride in Christendom who would let her husband fight in such a dangerous battle on his honeymoon.

The Normans lost half of their army at Rochester, forcing the Norman forces to retreat towards Surrey. Damaes and Alexandros (who by this time was temporarily free of his marital obligations) lead 4000 Hollandmen, Britons and Saxons in pursuit while the rest of the army continued the siege assault which had been so rudely interrupted. Seizing personal control of his army, William marched his weary troops day and night in order to avoid the pursuing Hollanders, slipping silently into the fields of Sussex before regrouping in London following a long march through the South-east. It must be said that despite his questionable activities off the battlefield, on the battlefield King William was a well-liked and competent – if not entirely brilliant – commander of men.

Alexandros did not decide to pursue King William, instead he felt it best to lay siege to Surrey before venturing forth. He and I had.. other things on our minds.

Eager to trap the King in his castle, the Byzantine mercenaries breached through the thick walls of the stronghold in Dover in a daring assault. The men redoubled their efforts and within a fortnight the entire province of Kent was liberated under Hollander rule. William was no fool however, and quickly anticipated the march on London by withdrawing his forces to Bedford and then to Essex, circling round the daring Byzantines to besiege the Dutch garrisons in Kent. He correctly assumed that these barbarians would consider London too big a prize to let go, and leave him be.

Now it was the army in Surrey's turn to hurry. The Dutch garrison at Dover was in reality little more than a glorified drinking party with a few sharp weapons and enough ale to fill the Tiber three times over; it would not hold out for long. With such an inept garrison left in charge the pressure to relieve Dover was on, or at least it would be for a rasher general than Alexandros. He and the bishop stood firm in Surrey, bravely sacrificing the garrison in Dover to ensure that the lives of their comrades lost while besieging the fortress in County Lambeth. The fact that the garrison in Dover was entrusted to inebriated former supporters of the late Prince Floris was unlikely a major factor in the two's decision.

Once Lambeth was liberated, Alexandros and Bishop Damaes turned their attention to relieving Kent. They were unfortunately too late to save Dover, but thanks to the brave actions of the 1st Dover Drunkards and a wandering cete[3] King William's army was delayed sufficiently to suffer defeat at the second Battle of Rochester.

This time there would be no getting away. The seventeen-man Norman garrison didn't put up much of a fight and before long the retreating Normans were crushed in Essex at the Battle of Maldon.

I was not present at Alexandros' triumph, for I was great with child. But there was much rejoicing after the battle was concluded, and not just because of the victory...

Alexander the Conqueror and Anna's first child, Prince Alexander was named after his illustrious father.

Bishop Damaes presided over the Christening, which proved to be wonderful service which warmed the hearts of all those who attended. The High Almoner and Alexandros would go on to win a string of smashing victories against the Normans in the coming months before Bishop Damaes lost his leg to an infection caused by an arrow in a siege in Sussex and died of the resulting amputation. He was a great loss to all who knew him and is sorely missed even to this very day.

One of the ablest commanders of the war, Court Chaplain and High Almoner Bishop Damaes died half a lifetime too soon.

Life however, like time, marches on and the war continued to be fought. The Normans made a few attempts top turn the tide but even by this stage a Hollander victory was but a foregone conclusion. (well, not to the Normans of course...) By the time we secured most of what I believe are called the Home Counties, I was already great with child once more and our second son was born. We named him Frederik, because apparently all the great second-born Dutch Princes are called Frederik.

The war would continue for another year and a half, in which I was blessed by a daughter - whom we named Anna of course after myself. The family's finances were precariously thin by this point, and so around half of the mercenary troops had to be disbanded in order to keep the war going. Fortunately we did not need them. The Normans were struck a decisive blow when their King was savagely torn apart from limb to limb by the wife of one of his sexual conquests; hell hath no fury like a female badger scorned[4]. His replacement as King was none other than Radolf, Duke of Lancaster: a boy in his third year and barely old enough to pronounce his name correctly, let alone sign it. Five days after King William's death, the Normans sued for peace and Radolf was thrown into the royal dungeon. England belonged now to Alexandros.

Or to be a bit more precise, it belonged to the German Kaiser...

Notes:

[1] I actually hired the Victual Brothers in-game because they also come with ships, but I think the story works best with Bretons and Saxons forming the bulk of the mercenary army. Besides, I don't think the Victuals existed at this point in history, but I could be wrong on that.

[2] This is obviously some gross exaggeration on Anna's part.

[3] The collective noun for a group of badgers.

[4] King William was assassinated, but I have no idea which lord was responsible. I only found out when I reached 100% warscore five days later and saw Radolf's portrait at the diplomatic screen.

The Alexandriad: A Personal History of the Times of King Alexander I the Conquerer

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Sergeant

Lt. General

Starmtrooper for hire

Starmtrooper for hire

Mademoiselle Gothique (she/her/hers)

Lt. General

Colonel

People's Commissar of the Navy

Lt. General

Starmtrooper for hire

Starmtrooper for hire

Field Marshal

General

Colonel

Kurt's Best AAR Reader

Starmtrooper for hire

Starmtrooper for hire