Russia - A Winter's Tale

“Ivan, so good to see you again.” Vasily nodded as the dukes and nobles of the Russian Alliance entered the room. “Fedor, always a pleasure… you, servants, bring
us some bread and wine – my brothers from Tver and Ryazan are hungry from their long journey, and will be hungrier still from these discussions!”
“Where is the Duke of Pskov?” Ivan, duke of the city of Tver, demanded. “We cannot discuss our plans until we know what the situation is like there!”
”He could not make it.” A younger man walked in. “My father is… not well. The doctors say he will not live out the year. He sent me, his son, to speak on his behalf.”
”Gentlemen, Prince Aleksandr of Pskov.” Vasily gestured for the prince to sit down. “He will inform us of the situation in Novgorod.”
Pskov was something of an outsider in the Russian Alliance. Though allied with Muscowy, it continued to pay tribute to the merchant princes of Moscow’s arch-rival, Novgorod. Its princes had for years played both sides against each other, but under the rule of the current ruler, Fedor – not to be confused with Duke Fedor of Ryazan – Pskov had been slowly cutting its ties to Novgorod, and moving closer to Moscow. His son, Vasily knew, was likely to continue this policy.
“Thank you.” Aleksandr nodded. “Gentlemen, Novgorod will not likely survive much longer. Livonian armies have routed their cavalry twice already in Ingermanland, and the Teutonic army has yet to arrive. The Grandmasters of the two Knightly orders have indicated they wish only to take back Ingermanland itself, but until the merchant princes surrender and give that region to the Livonians, they’re quite happy to do as much damage to Novgorod as possible. Regardless of the outcome of this war, Novgorod will be devastated for some time to come.”
”Leaving it open to other enemies.” Vasily nodded. “The Swedes would be happy to take advantage of their weakness – so would Poland-Lithuania.”
“Aye.” Aleksandr said. “By the time this is over, Novgorod’s territories will have been divided between every power in the region.”
”What can we do?” Fedor of Ryazan asked. “I have no desire to see the Swedes expand in our direction – or any of the other Catholic kingdoms. But the Novgorods are too proud to accept our help – and even if they weren’t, I’m not going to send my men out to fight the Teutons and Livonians on behalf of the merchants.”
“I do not intend to help the Novgorod.” Aleksandr smiled slightly. “I intend to take advantage of them. If we don’t want Sweden to seize their territories – then the only real option we have is to take them for ourselves!”
The other Russian dukes stared at Aleksandr, shocked. Finally, one spoke.
“This is madness.” Ivan of Tver said. “Novgorod are our enemies, our competitors, yes – but they are still Russian! They have not attacked us – I will not be party to a war with them!”
”Nor will I.” Fedor of Ryazan rose. “Aleksandr, I pray to god your father recovers – I dread to think what will happen if one such as you would take the throne of Pskov!”
The two Dukes rose from the table and left.
“You still haven’t said anything.” Aleksandr finally spoke again.
“I think… it is an interesting plan.” Vasily finally said. “You are right – the only way we can ensure Novgorod remains out of foreign hands is to take it for ourselves… and if, as you say, Novgorod’s armies have already been scattered by the Livonians and Teutons, there is little risk for our own armies.”
”What of Ivan and Fedor?” Aleksandr asked, gesturing out the door where the two dukes had left. “I think… My lord duke, unifying the Russian people is a dream of all of us, and if some blood must be spilled now to do it, so be it – but not if it will split the alliance.”
”They’ll come around – I’ll talk to them privately.” Vasily said. “In the end, they’ll see the logic of this course of action… but it will take time. Prepare your armies – you have convinced me. I will speak to Ivan and Fedor, convince them to join our war. Hold off the declaration of war until we are all in agreement, though – I want the world to see that we Russians act united, even when attacking another Russian state – actually, especially because we’re attacking another Russian state. We can’t make it look like Russia is falling into anarchy.”
“I understand.” Aleksandr nodded. “I… I am glad, in a way if there is a delay. My father-“
”You want your last days with him to be during peace?” Vasily nodded. “I understand. My father… he died while I was out, leading a division of horsemen in the north against Ugric raiders. I always regretted not being there for him…”
Vasily sighed. “I will speak to Ivan and Fedor later this week. You may leave at any time – go back home, and care for your father. It will probably be easier for me to convince them alone anyway.”
”Thank you.” Aleksandr said. “I… if it is alright, I will leave tonight.”
”Tell your father he has been a good friend to Muscowy these years – a loyal ally. The Lord shall reward him for the good that he has done in his life – and that I will miss him.”
”Thank you.” The young prince nodded. “I shall…”

* * *

More than six months later, the preparations were complete. The Livonians and their allies were still besieging the city of Narva, leaving the rest of Novgorod open to the Russians.
“Prince Aleksandr informs me his army, three thousand strong, is already marching on Novgorod itself.” Vasily said, as he and his generals studied maps of Russia. “They’ll cut off the city’s supply lines, stop any Novgorod troops reinforcing the city – but they don’t have enough men to begin a proper siege…
General Patrikeev, your army will march north to Novgorod, and take control of the siege from the Pskov army. I want the city in our hands before winter – once we control the capital, we effectively control the entire republic; we can dictate whatever terms we want…
However, just to ensure Prince Simeon understands the totality of his defeat, I want the northern regions secured as well… they’re sparsely populated, little fortifications. No point sending a full army – and probably counterproductive.”
”Aye.” General Yuri Patrikeev nodded. “Any army would starve up there. A small force – two thousand men or less – would be enough to control the entire area – some of those regions are even less populated than Vladimir.
I’ll get my fastest cavalry units to cover that area. Major Kostov’s horse brigade can take care of any resistance we face up there, and his men are the fastest in the army. We can certainly spare them – the army is more than large enough to handle Novgorod’s city defences, especially with Pskov and the other Dukes helping us.”
“Very good.” Vasily smiled. “I want you to leave Moscow within the week – the sooner the better. I know I can depend on you, Yuri.”
”By this time next year, we’ll have peace with Novgorod.” Patrikeev grinned.
“Excellent.” Vasily said. “Good luck, to you and your men. The Lord bless you all…”

* * *
The siege of Novgorod was difficult more from a logistical point of view than a tactical view. The outlying farms and towns were already occupied by Pskov forces when Patrikeev’s army arrived, and the slow business of besieging Novgorod’s city walls began. Occasionally a small force of Novgorod irregulars would try to break the siege, but they were quickly dealt with by the overwhelming Muscowy army.
The real problem Patrikeev had to deal with was supplying his army. Novgorod was rich, but its farmlands could not supply thousands of enemy soldiers for months on end, and the situation was made worse when an additional five thousand infantry from Tver and Ryazan arrived to aid the siege, their dukes having been convinced by Vasily of the wisdom of the war. Patrikeev soon realised his master’s orders to take the city by winter were not an idle wish – but a necessity. If his army was still camped outside the city when the snows came, thousands would die of exposure or starvation.
In frustration, he doubled his efforts, ordering sappers to tunnel under the walls, catapult teams to bombard the city fortifications, looking for weakness, scouts and spys to see if there were any secret entrances, or if any of the city guard could be bribed into opening the gates…
In the north, Major Kostov and his light cavalry had met with stunning successes, occupying dozens of villages across the northlands, venturing as far as Kola, on the Norwegian border, before heading south again, to spread chaos through the province of Olonets.
Finally, the siege of Novgorod saw results. A plague had broken out in the city, reducing the strength of the city’s defenders, even as the Muscowy catapult teams began making meaningful dents in the city walls…

* * *

The city looked as good as could be expected for a city that had been under siege for almost a year. A group of merchants dressed in what had once been fine clothing wandered the streets, ducking away as the Russian cavalry entered the city centre.
Dismounting from his horse, General Patrikeev nodded in satisfaction as he glanced around the city. The plague that had ensured the Russian capture of the city had died down, and he had little fear of catching it himself, and the people of Novgorod now so demoralised, he was not concerned about the remaining city guard threatening him.
”Tear down the Republic ensign!” He shouted, gesturing at the flag still flying over the city square. “Raise the Muskowy banner, and alongside it, the flags of our valiant allies, Pskov, Tver, and Ryazan. Then surround the palace, and bring me Prince Simeon. We have things to discuss with him…”
He shivered as his men ran to carry out his orders. It was growing cold – winter was upon the city. It seemed they had captured the city just in time.
Finally, two of his officers came back, dragging a young Novgorod noble with them.
“This is Prince Simeon?” Patrikeev asked.
”No.” The Novgorod man said. “I am his son, Eufimei.”
“Where is your father?” The Russian general demanded.
“Trapped in Ingernmanland.” Eufimei spat. “He was trapped there when the Livonians surrounded the city. I have had to rule in his place since then…”
“Of all the luck…” Patrikeev sighed. “Get me a messenger, I need to inform the duke of this…”
”Why did you do this?” Eufimei demanded, gesturing at the Russian army around him. “How could you dare attack a fellow Russian prince?”
”Because your father failed to defend the Russian people!” Patrikeev said. “If we had done nothing, Novgorod would have become a Scandinavian and Lithuanian playground! At least the people of Novgorod will now be under Russian rule still!”
”Hah!” Eufimei laughed harshly. “You think it’s that easy? Our people will never accept Muscowy rule, not so long as your only right to our lands is through conquest – you’re no worse than the Mongols-“
”Take ‘Prince’ Eufimei away.” Patrikeev hissed. “I have no desire to listen to him any longer – and get me a messenger!”

* * *

”Hmm.” Vasily considered the message from Novgorod. “Well, it’s good that the city has fallen – but that the Prince is missing… that is not so good… the Novgorod will only barely tolerate our rule at best – we need the legitimacy given by their ruler officially ceding the territories to us if we are to make proper use of them, without dealing with constant rebellions… I doubt the Livonians will let us march into their siege and see if we can find the Prince… we’ll have to wait until that situation resolves…”
“What if the Livonians kill Prince Simeon?” Vasily the younger asked. “Or if he dies in the siege?”
”Then, the situation gets a lot easier.” Duke Vasily laughed. “Then, this Prince Eufimei becomes ruler of Novgorod – and will likely give us what we want, since he’s now our captive…
Now, how did things go in Vologda?”
”I finally convinced the local baron to accept your new tax code.” The younger Vasily said. “But he was most… disagreeable. I don’t know why you tolerate him and some of the other nobles.”
”I tolerate them because some of their families have been in their current positions for centuries, and replacing them would lead to civil war.” Vasily said. “I do not like many of them – but few are truly incompetent, and many of them handle a great many minor details I would rather not personally worry about. They are the backbone of any true nation, Vasily. We concern ourselves with warfare and alliances and the greater laws – they handle the actual taxation, the recruiting of soldiers, the distribution of food, all the little details that allow us to engage in great wars and things… Whenever I am angry at the nobles, I remember just how important they are to Muscowy – and how much work they do…
In fact, to give you some perspective, I think it is time you took another lesson in administration. The Baron of Tula is a good friend of mine. I think you should pay him a visit, and take on his duties for a month or so. I think you’ll find it… enlightening.”
He smiled slightly, seeing the expression in his son’s eyes.
“Vasily, you’re a good son, and I’m sure someday you’ll be a good duke of Muscowy. But I want you to be a great duke, one who can continue my work, and unite all the Russias together. I want you to learn all the lessons of rulership – and to see things from all perspectives – not just as a Duke, but as a person, a Russian the same as all the people you will rule over…”
“I understand, father.” The younger Vasily nodded. “And I’ve learned important things thanks to your lessons. But I-“
A rapping on the door interrupted the prince.
“Enter.” Duke Vasily said.
“Good day, noble duke.” A messenger entered, bowing. “I come on behalf of his lordship, the Duke of Tver.”
”Excellent!” Vasily grinned. “Does Ivan bring new news from the Novgorod war?”
”I – no sir.” The messenger shook his head. “I suggest you read this for yourself.”
”Very well.” Vasily took a sheet of parchment, reading through it, his expression growing more shocked, before he hurled it to the ground.
”What is it, father?”
”Those triple-damned treacherous backstabbing dogs!” Vasily bellowed. “I’ll see them all perish for this! Damn them! Damn them all!”
”Father?” The younger Vasily asked again.
“Lithuania and Poland have declared war against us!” Duke Vasily shouted.

NEXT: Russia on the defensive; the alliance falls!

Count Dmitri cursed to himself as he read the message one of his allies in the Lithuanian court had sent him. He’d known this day was coming – he just hadn’t expected it to come so quickly. Poland-Lithuania and Muscowy had been competing for control of the Russian territories for decades – twice before, they’d almost come to blows. He had married the daughter of a Lithuanian noble after the last crisis, in an attempt to heal the rift between the two nations. Now, despite that, Lithuanian armies were marching the Russian cities.
Now it was no longer safe for he and his family to remain in Lithuania.

“Jiera.” He called out to his wife. “Pack your things – and quickly.”
”What is it, husband?” The Lithuanian woman asked.

“I just received a warning from the royal court… Grand Duke Didysis has found an obscure claim to the lands of Tver – he’s issued a declaration of war… Muscowy will defend their ally; I do not think it is safe for either of us, or the children to remain in Lithuania any more.”

“Where will we go?” Jiera asked, a look of panic filling her eyes. She’d never left her homeland before – to flee now, without warning, during winter and war obviously terrified her.

“We cannot go to Poland – we must go to my home, to Moscow. My uncle the Duke will look after us.”

”But if the Grand Duke is invading Russia – then heading there-“

”Aye, we’ll be heading into a warzone. But I do not think it is any safer for me to stay here; a Russian nobleman will have few friends in the coming months.”
He paused, seeing the fear in his wife’s eyes.

“You do not have to come with me.” He said. “You could go back to your father’s estate-“

”No.” Jiera shook her head. “Whatever happens, I will stay with you, husband.”

”Good.” Dmitri nodded. “It will be nice to see Moscow again – I just wish it were under better circumstances. But either way – it would not be the same without you by my side…
Now, go – pack your bags. I want to have left by nightfall. I’ll tell the children, and organise a coach for us…”

* * *

“This war has come at the worst possible time.” General Yuri Patrikeev grumbled, as he looked through maps of Lithuania. “Do our scouts have any reports on the size of the Lithuanian armies?”

”Unknown, sir.” A younger officer said. “A few thousand men, scattered across the border – but a much larger force is rumoured to be marching north from the capital – along with the main Polish force.”

“Alright, that buys us some time – they’ll have trouble making much progress in this snow.
General Iwanovo.” He turned to the commander of the Pskovian armies. “I understand your troops will be marching south, to Welikia?”

“Yes.” Iwanovo nodded. “If we can capture the northern Lithuanian territories quickly, we can force them to accept peace – perhaps even reclaim some of the Russian lands still under their domination.”

”Perhaps.” Patrikeev nodded. “In that case, my forces will march back to Moscow, then south to seize the province of Kursk. We can meet up again at Smolensk.”

”My armies can begin a siege of that area, General.” Commander Kirov of the Tver armies spoke up. “If we all succeed, we can combined our forces, head south, and reach the Lithuanian capital by the end of the year!”

”A good plan.” Patrikeev nodded. “And what will the army of Ryazan do?”

”I am afraid I have already received orders to return home.” The Ryazan commander replied. “Lithuanian armies have already crossed the border into Ryazan – we must drive them off before Duke Fedor will risk returning to the offensive.”

“I understand.” Patrikeev said. “Hopefully, once you’ve defeated the Lithuanians at home, you can assist us in seizing Kursk.
We’ll leave Novgorod tomorrow morning, leaving only a small garrison to hold the city – and to ensure Prince Eufimei remains where he is.”

* * *

Snow covered the road as Count Dmitri and his family made their way north to Moscow. Three times, they had to stop as their servants cleared the road. They avoided the major towns, stopping only at small villages to buy food.

“What news did you get?” Dmitri asked, as one of his servants returned to the coach, bringing bread and meat back from a small village. “How goes the war?”

”Not good, my lord.” The servant replied. “The innkeeper said a Lithuanian army passed through here, not three nights before – they’re heading north; rumour has it, they’re preparing to engage General Patrikeev’s armies in Kursk, then continue north to besiege Moscow itself!”

”They’re heading the same direction we are…” Dmitri muttered. “At least we know the Muscovite army is fairly near too. If we’re lucky, we’ll run into them, and we should be safe the rest of the way to Moscow.”

”You don’t think the Lithuanians will succeed in breaking the siege of Kursk, then?” The servant asked.

“I doubt it – Duke Didysis is overconfident; and General Patrikeev is a tactical genius. The Muscovite army will have little difficulty dealing with the small raiding armies Lithuania is sending now…
Of course, that doesn’t help us much. We still have to avoid them, and make it to Russian controlled territory…”

”My lord!” The coach driver shouted. “Two horsemen are approaching – Lithuanian light cavalry!”

”Scout units from the army…” Dmitri cursed. “Alright, keep moving – we’ll try and bluff our way past them, but be prepared for trouble.”

The coach lurched forward, the Lithuanian scouts moving closer. Dmitri pulled up the hood on his coat, reaching for his crossbow as they approached. Finally, one of the scouts moved ahead of the coach, gesturing for it to stop.

“Identify yourself.” The Lithuanian demanded.

“I am… Janka Dowgird.” Dmitri quickly made up a name, trying to hide his Russian accent. “A merchant – we’re heading to… to Belarus; trying to get away from this bloody war, yes?”

”We need to search this carriage.” The Lithuanian said. “Please step out so we can-“

“Remove your hood.” The other scout suddenly demanded, staring oddly at Dmitri. “Now!”

As Dmitri exposed his head, the scout nodded in satisfaction.

”I thought so.” He said. “Count Dmitri – the nephew of the Duke of Moscow… fled his estate a few days after war was declared – looks like we netted a bigger fish here than we thought.
You are ordered to accompany us back to our camp, where you’ll be escorted back to Lithuan-“

”Drive!” Dmitri shouted to his driver, pulling out the crossbow, and firing at the scout, killing him instantly. The other quickly drew his sword stabbing widely as the coach drove off. Dmitri smiled grimly as he readied another bolt in his bow, leaning out the window to get a shot at the other scout. But as he readied his aim, the other scout drew his spear, hurling it at the exposed count.

The spear hit its target, embedding itself in Dmitri’s chest, and he dropped his bow to the ground, nearly falling out of the coach. His wife, shocked, barely succeeded in grabbing him, keeping him inside.

He coughed, choking up blood. The spear had cut deep, and Dmitri knew he would not survive long.

“Dimitrov… Ilya…” He murmured, turning to his two terrified children. “I… I am sorry for all this… I love you both…”

”Father!” Dimitrov, his son shouted, holding back tears. Though young, he knew his father was dying. “Please… don’t go…”

”I have no choice… Look after your sister… and your mother…” He coughed again, turning to his wife. “I’m… sorry Jiera. You shouldn’t have had to come with me…”

“Dimitri.” She cried, cradling his body in her lap. “I… how can I continue without you?”

”Keep heading to Moscow.” He said. “My uncle will look after you and the children… tell him what happened…
I can feel I am dying… the Lord willing, we will meet again some day in the next world… I will be waiting for you, my love…”

He choked, coughing again as his vision faded.
Jiera broke down as she heard her husband’s breathing stop. She barely noticed the coach stop, and the driver open the door. Seeing the body of the count, he quickly realised the situation.

“My lady…” he said. “The other scout has fled – we must have scared him off. What should we do now?”

Looking up, Jiera finally spoke.
”Continue to Moscow – use your judgment to avoid the Lithuanian armys… I won’t return home, not now they’ve killed my husband. I want to go to Moscow, and bury him there in his homeland…”

* * *

General Patrikeev sighed. The Lithuanians had been driven off again – their light cavalry no match for the massed ranks of Russian pikemen and heavy knights. But the constant raids were slowly wearing them down. Food was becoming a problem, and disease was spreading through the army of Muscowy. If the war was not ended quickly, Patrikeev had little hope for victory.

“Ivan, Olup – organise another scout party, to search for any farms or storehouses.” He gestured to two of his lieutenants. “We’re running low on supplies.”

”Sir, what’s that?” One of the officers gestured across the plain outside Kursk.

“Looks like a coach – a messenger?” Patrikeev wondered. “Let’s go have a look…”

The Russian general, along with three of his lieutenants walked out to meet the coach carrying the family of Count Dmitri, as it headed towards the Muscovite camp.

“Identify yourself.” Patrikeev shouted.

The coach pulled to a stop, and Jiera stepped out, unsteady, and still in mourning for her husband.

”I am Countess Jiera… my husband was Count Dmitri…” She said. “The nephew of your Duke Vasily.” She said. “My two children are with me – we seek to travel to Moscow…”

“Where is the Count?” Patrikeev asked, fearing the worst.

“He was killed… not two days ago… by a Lithuanian scout.” She said finally. “Please… let us travel to Moscow, so I can bury my husband.”

”I would not dare tell you or your children to turn back now.” Patrikeev said, sympathising with the Lithuanian noblewoman. “If what you say is true, you are no friend of the Lithuanian armies – and we would be more than happy to shelter the wife of the Duke’s nephew…
Guards – fetch the Countess and her children food, and bring them fresh horses…
Do not worry, my lady. I will assign two of my horsemen to escort you to Moscow…
And the Lithuanian armies will pay for this treachery.”

* * *

OOC: Thanks, everyone for the support.
jwolf – Oh yea. Scared the hell out of me when I got that declaration of war – next post I’ll go into more detail on how the Lithuanian war turned out – fortunately, for most of the war they wasted a lot of time throwing small armies at my main force; even so, if it wasn’t for Yuri Patrikeev as a leader, I’d have probably lost my main army, and in my current financial situation, I’m not in much of a state to build a new one… Even as it was, I lost a lot of troops.
I’m just glad I’m still a small country and can quickly recover stability – breaking the RM with Lithuania combined with a Death of a Noble random event two days later didn’t do my stability a world of good – though I think I got a nice story out of it…
coz1 – This any better? Didn’t notice how crammed together it all was, sorry…
And to anyone reading – anyone got a link to a site with details on how the Russian nobility was organised at the time? Right now I’m throwing feudal terms around at random, and while I’m not aiming for perfect accuracy, it is bugging me somewhat…

“That’s it!” He shouted at a group of archers. “The Lithuanians can’t keep this up forever – and as long as they’re here, General Patrikeev doesn’t need to worry about them!”

The archers looked up at him skeptically. Vasily understood their concerns, but he had to keep morale up somehow. The war was not going well. Despite early victories, the Russian armies had been forces back dozens of times. The small infantry forces that had harassed the Russian forces months before were just a diversion – finally, the main Polish and Lithuanian armies had arrived from the south, many larger than the forces the Russian principalities could muster. The last report he’d gotten from Patrikeev said his army had been forced to abandon the siege of Kursk, after heavy Lithuanian and Polish counter-attacks. That had been three months ago – since then, he’d had no further word. A Lithuanian army had marched north, sieging Moscow itself, cutting off all communications with the outside world.

Each day, Vasily marched across the battlements of the city walls, shouting his defiance at the Lithuanian armies, but he knew that unless Patrikeev could reform his army and drive off the Lithuanian besiegers, sooner or later, Moscow would fall.

* * *

Patrikeev shivered. Another winter was settling in across the plains of Lithuania, another year was ending. Little had been achieved; five times, his army had attempted to begin sieges of Lithuanian cities, each time, Lithuanian or Polish cavalry had driven them off. Thousands of men had died, either in battle, or of exposure to the elements. Thousands more had deserted. His army, once one of the largest in the region, was now but a shadow of its former self.

The news he’d received was not good. Pskov had fallen to the enemy, and Prince Aleksandr had been killed in the fighting. The Lithuanians had proclaimed the city part of their kingdom, and while the scattered remnants of the city militia continued to oppose the Lithuanian occupiers, Patrikeev knew they had little chance of reclaiming the city.

He finished off the last of his bowl of thin soup, glad to have at least some food tonight. He smiled gratefully at the peasant who had given it to him – many of the people here in the north of Lithuania were Russians, and had done whatever they could to help the Muscovite army survive the winter.

“General.” His aide spoke. “A small army of horsemen has arrived from the north – they claim to be Russians. Their leader wishes to speak to you.”

Patrikeev nodded, leaving his tent to meet them. He raised an eyebrow as he saw them; their uniforms were crude, even by the standards of the Muscowy army – as if they’d been designed by someone who had seen Russian uniforms in the past, and was trying to reconstruct their design from memory.

“Hail, general Patrikeev.” Their leader dismounted to greet him. “We come bringing news from Moscow.”

”You are not from Moscow.” Patrikeev said, recognising their accents. “Where are you from?”

”We…” The horseman commander paused. “We come from the lands of the Golden Horde. My companions and I fled to Muscowy when the Khans of the Horde began oppressing the Russians still under their rule further. We hoped to convince the Duke of Moscow to help us liberate our fellow Rus from the Mongols – but when we arrived, we found Moscow threatened as well.
General, a Lithuanian army has marched on Moscow! Already, the outer walls have been breached – if they remain a few months longer, Moscow will fall as well!”

”How many men are under your command?” Patrikeev demanded, instantly considering his options.

”Over four thousand, General.” The horseman replied. “Entire towns fled the Horde with us. We gladly place them under your command, so we can fight for the Russian people!”

”That gives us more than ten thousand cavalry combined…” Patrikeev nodded. “Very well. Organise your men. We march tomorrow for Moscow, to lift the siege!”

* * *

Major Zabrzezinski, commander of the third Polish army, warmed his hands by the fire. The siege was going well – his sappers said they could break through the inner Moscow walls very soon – perhaps only a few weeks. At worst, they said, Moscow would be in Polish-Lithuanian hands by New Years Day. He looked forward to that – once Moscow had fallen, the Russian Alliance would collapse, and he could leave this frozen land.

He heard a shout outside his tent, and left to investigate. Probably another squabble between the Polish and Lithuanian troops, he thought to himself. Despite their alliance, Poland and Lithuania had many differences – and it was well known the Polish king longed to see the two countries united, regardless of the wishes of the Lithuanian court. This, combined with the tension of the long siege of Moscow, lead to frequent brawls between the Lithuanian and Polish troops.

“Alright, everyone just calm down, what’s the- Good Lord!” Zabrzezinski stared. A dozen horsemen were riding through the camp, cutting down Polish troops where they stood. Tents went up in flames, as a volley of arrows were fired at the besieging forces.

”Ambush!” Zabrzezinski shouted, realising what was happening immediately. “You, sound the alarm, wake all troops. The Russians are attacking-“

A Russian sword cut the Polish general off, as the light cavalry, trained in the harsh steppes of the Golden Horde, continued to spread chaos through their enemy’s ranks.

“Excellent.” Patrikeev grinned, as he watched the Lithuanian and Polish infantry flee in a panic – right towards the main Russian force. “Archers, ready your bows, then once they’re softened up, cavalry and axemen, take the remainder out. Those easterners may not have the equipment we use, but they’re doing a wonderful job of driving the Poles into our lines!”

Trying to reform into battle lines, the Polish and Lithuanian force was caught between the light horsemen from the south, the hundreds of crossbowmen and axemen who emerged from the forests in the west, while from the east, the heavy cavalry of the Russian army charged forth to cut off their only means of escape, Patrikeev leading the assault. Trapped between the Russian armies and the walls of Moscow itself, which only a few hours before the invaders had been confidently besieging, the Poles and Lithuanians didn’t stand a chance. Cut down in their hundreds, less than a tenth of their army escaped Moscow that night.

* * *

”General! Yuri!” Duke Vasily grinned, embracing the Russian commander. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down!”

Patrikeev nodded, thinking to himself how much older the Duke looked. The siege of Moscow had been a great strain on him, as was the news that Pskov had fallen to the Lithuanians.

“Glad to see you’re alright.” He said. “Our allies, though, do not do so well.”

Vasily sighed. “I suspected at much. I’ve already heard of the fall of Pskov – what of Tver and Ryazan?”

”We found reports in the remains of the Polish commander’s camp – letters from the front lines elsewhere.” Patrikeev said. “Tver is making some progress in Welikia – the Poles had orders to lift the sieges there once Moscow fell. With their army now scattered, we’ve probably bought time for Duke Ivan.”

”And Ryazan?” Vasily asked, fearing the worst.

“Lithuanian armies took the city on the 19th. Duke Fedor and his family are missing – its rumoured they escaped the city, but the Lithuanians seem convinced he’s dead. They annexed the city the next day.”

”Curses.” Vasily said. “We cannot continue this war, Yuri – at best, we’re maintaining a stalemate here. Soon, the Poles will raise another army, and take Tver as well – and we cannot stand against them by ourselves – the Duchy is bankrupt, the peasants near revolt as new taxes are raised and every able bodied man is conscripted into the defence of the realm.”

”Tver took many Lithuanians hostage at Welikia.” Patrikeev said. “The Polish general had orders to ensure their release if possible – two Counts were captured there.”

”We should kill them like they killed poor Dmitri!” Vasily spat, still furious over the death of his nephew, more than a year ago. “But I see your point – with the captives, perhaps we can negotiate a ransom, and an end to this war… while we still have a chance.”

* * *

The Lithuanian emissary was barely civil as he entered the Muscowy court, a month later. Sneering at the Russian delegates, he marched towards Vasily as if the Russian lord was but a minor vassal.

“The agreement is simple. Sixty four thousand ducats for the safe return of all Lithuanians and Poles held captive by Muscowy and Tver. Poland and Lithuania will, in return, pledge peace with the Russian duchys.” The emissary said. “We also demand that Muscowy accept Pskov and Ryazan as eternally part of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, and will not support any attempts to undermine our rule.”

Vasily sighed. He had expected as much from the Lithuanians, and while his blood burned to know that Muscowy’s allies remained under Lithuanian rule, there was little he could do for them.

”We accept the reality of Lithuania’s rule of those cities.” He said, weighing his words carefully. “However, we do not accept Lithuania as having any valid claim to those or any other Russian territories.
Despite this, as long as this treaty endures, we shall not intervene in Pskov or Ryazan.”

”Good.” The Lithuanian smiled thinly. “Sign here.”

Swallowing his pride, Vasily signed the document, before handing it to Ivan of Tver to ratify the treaty.

“Excellent.” The Lithuanian smiled, taking back the document. “I’m sure the lords Didysis and Wladyslaw will be most happy with your cooperation.”

Without another word, the Lithuanian turned and left the Moscow court.

“We did well to even get some payment.” Ivan, duke of Tver sighed. “I expected them to demand return of the hostages as a condition of peace.”

”True.” Vasily sighed. “At least we are not the only ones to be forced into such a treaty today… my son should have arrived in Novgorod by now – he has instructions to ensure the withdrawal of our troops from the city itself – in exchange, Prince Eufimei will cede Olonets, Arkhangelsk, and the northern Ugric lands to Muscowy. I would have demanded all of Novgorod – but we do not have the strength right now to absorb the city itself.”

”Take Novgorod itself?” Ivan asked, surprised. “My friend-“

”I know – for all the trouble the merchant princes caused us in the past, I never had any desire to destroy them completely. But times change, Ivan. This war showed that – the Russian duchies cannot survive isolated as we are. Pskov and Ryazan fell because of their isolation – so to will Tver, Muscowy and Novgorod if we do not unite. Novgorod has no choice – one way or the other, it must join us as part of a unified whole.”

”You speak of a unified Russian confederation? Ruled by one crown, from one city?” Ivan asked.

“Someday, yes.” Vasily laughed. “Do not worry, my old friend – I have no desire to take your crown from you. We are old men, you and I – and this damned war makes me feel older still. But someday, yes – I would see a single Kingdom of Russia, uniting all the Russian people as one. Someday, Novgorod will be part of it, regardless of what the merchant princes want.
Only with its wealth behind us, can we get vengeance on Lithuania, and free our allies in Pskov and Ryazan.”

”Perhaps.” Ivan nodded. “And you are right – we must do everything that is possible to free Pskov and Ryazan again. The price of Novgorod’s stubbornness is not one the Russian peoples can pay much longer…
But those are matters for another day. Come, let us celebrate our victory, such as it is, and talk of lesser matters than the fate of empires and the fall of nations…”

* * *

NEXT: Rebuilding, expansion – and revenge on Lithuania!

Images:

Muscowy at the start of the game:



Russia and Lithuania after the First Lithuanian War:



OOC: Hmm. Seems the Russian red colour doesn’t take being converted to jpg well. Maybe I should change it… nah, I’ll stick with the red.
Thanks again to everyone commenting – glad to see that my writing is coherent, entertaining, and doesn’t waste an entire update discussing a single royal marriage….
*glances at first post*
Well, two out of three, anyway.
Next post should be up tomorrow.

In the AGC campaign, a few countries are moved around - I assume for greater geographical accuracy. Ryazan is moved south to Vorones province - it's the orange in the first map. You'll notice in the second map, it's been annexed by Lithuania.
You'll also notice the Muskowy capital is in Tula province, not Moscow province; the city in Tula is now Moscow, I forget what the city in Moscow province is - confusing, no?

Vasily II wept as his father was laid to rest, his body placed along side those of all the other dukes of Muscowy.
It had been more than a year since the end of the Lithuanian war, and Muscowy was beginning to recover from the devastations. His father had regained much of his old cheerfulness, and had been quick to approve new reforms, even over the objection of the nobility and the church. Forcing changes through shear strength of will, none of the nobility had dared challenge him.

But in the end, old age had finally caught up with him. Two weeks ago, he’d collapsed during a state dinner to celebrate the wedding of a minor baron’s daughter with a Serbian prince. Since then, he’d drifted in and out of consciousness, finally expiring on the seventh of February.

All the nobility of Russia had come to mourn the death of Vasily. Ivan, the aging Duke of Tver had come to see his old friend buried, and Prince Theodore and his wife had come all the way from Constantinople to attend the funeral. Vasily II nodded briefly in greeting as they passed.

“My lord.” General Patrikeev said, his head bowed. “I mourn with you the loss of your father. Russia has lost a great man.”

”It has.” Vasily nodded. “I do not know if I can fill his shoes…”

“Few could.” The old General said, wondering himself if the young Vasily could take the place of the old Duke. “But there is no choice – you must take his place, and do what you think is right for Russia.”

”I guess.” Vasily muttered, sounding less than confident. “I hope so…

* * *

A feast had been organised after the funeral itself, and Vasily forced himself to smile as he met various dignitaries from across the Orthodox world. He embraced his sister Alexandra, and warmly shook hands with her Byzantine husband.

“Congratulations, to you, Theodore.” He smiled. “I hear the Empire has reclaimed part of Anatolia?”

”A small area, yes – but enough to drive back the Turks a little more.” Theodore nodded. “However… I would prefer not to discuss it right now…
I have a message from my royal father – I would deliver it to you… privately.”

”Then let us speak of it after these guests have left.” Vasily II said. “Have you met my wife, Helen of Theodoro? She-“

”My lord Duke.” General Patrikeev interrupted, standing out from the other guests in his shining armour. “A messenger has arrived with news from the east – I thought you should know.”

”Good news? Or bad?” Vasily asked.

”Perhaps good news.” Patrikeev said. “The Mongols go to war again – but against the Lithuanians.”

”Lithuania?” Vasily murmured. “I would not have expected that!”

”No, neither would I – but, it seems the Lithuanians are suffering from an internal crisis. The last Duke, after his victories in our last war, put a great deal of time and effort into trying to have the Duchy of Lithuania promoted to a Kingdom.” Patrikeev explained. “He failed, mainly due to Polish protests – and died soon after. Since then, Poland has been attempting to ensure their preferred candidate takes the throne, rather than the one backed by the Lithuanian nobles. It’s driven a wedge between the two countries, and a number of nobles are openly resisting the Polish interference…
It seems one of the Mongol Khans has noticed this instability, and has decided to expand his rule westward.”

“If Lithuania is nearing civil war – and threatened by the Mongols…” Vasily considered. “The time may have come to strike back!”

”Do not be so hasty, my Duke.” Patrikeev warned. “Our military is still weakened – and the nation is less than stable. The Patriarch of Moscow is still unhappy with your fathers choice to tolerate the Strigolniks – and many support him. Against your father, they would not act – but they may yet against you.”

”Surely they would not act against me during a time of war?” Vasily II demanded, shocked.

“My lord, perhaps you have not been as attentive to matters of court as you should have – but Muscovy is not so stable as it seems.” Patrikeev said. “The Duke of Suzdal plots to regain his city’s independence from Moscow, and it is rumoured the pagans of the north are arming themselves… Sire, I must advise against any military action abroad until the situation at home is stabilised.”

”Very well.” Vasily II nodded. “My father always welcomed your counsel, and I would be foolish to ignore it. But there will be a reckoning with Lithuania, someday…”

“My lord, I look forward to it.” Patrikeev grinned savagely. “If it were just me, I would ride against them tonight – but we cannot sacrifice Russia to do so. There is no rush…”

* * *

”Duke Vasily.” Theodore nodded in greeting after the feast was over. “My apologies – but the news I deliver, I do not wish to see spread to far.
You have heard, how the Imperial army has reclaimed Antalya from the infidel, and destroyed the Ghazi states.”

”Aye – aye, we heard the news a month ago.” Vasily II nodded, before turning sombre. “My father was overjoyed… it was just before he fell ill.”

”Then, it is good he died happy.” Theodore said. “I am somehow glad he will not hear the news I give you.
Vasily, we won the war against the Ghazi states only through surrendering to our other enemies! The infidel kings called on all the Turkic tribes to aid them in their war, and it was all we could do to stop the Ottoman Turks from using the war as an excuse to besiege Constantinople itself!”

“And what was their price?” Vasily asked, feeling sick.

“At first, we turned to the thrice-cursed Italians for aid…” Theodore sighed. “Venice agreed to send a fleet to defend us, if we would surrender to them the city of Thessalonica – but they betrayed us again, deserting as the Ottoman Turks reached Constantinople! Our only hope was to surrender to the Ottomans…
Vasily, this news cannot leave this room. Constantinople now pays tribute to the Ottomans… and my Imperial father is now treated as nothing but another of the infidel’s vassals!”

Vasily gasped in shock. He’d suspected the Empire had been weakened by its victory over the Turks – but he had no idea it was in as dire a position as his brother-in-law was claiming.

“We are making every effort to find new allies.” Theodore said. “But there is little hope for us. Our position in Anatolia is weak, and the Turkish sultan seems to have unlimited manpower. It is only a matter of time before he takes Constantinople for himself. If that happens… my father wants you to know that Moscow will be the last hope of the true faith. The west has fallen to the Italian schismatics – the east is falling to the infidel.

Vasily, very soon, the north will be our only hope. You must do all you can to ensure our civilization survives…”

Vasily felt like he’d been punched. The death of his father… and now to learn that the Empire was on the verge of collapse.

“No rush…” He muttered to himself, before turning to Theodore. “Theodore, find me General Patrikeev. I need to discuss things with him immediately.
Don’t worry – your secrets are safe with me. And I swear, I will do everything in my power to ensure Moscow can live up to the faith your father has put in us…”

* * *

”Patrikeev.” Vasily II barked. “What’s the status of the Novgorod military?”

”Nonexistent.” The general replied. “After their idiotic war with Sweden, they’ve lost all their territories – most of their generals deserted them after that humiliation. Why?”

”Novgorod’s the richest city in Russia.” Vasily said. “We need it, General. Once we control it, we’ll be wealthy enough to raise an army capable of taking back Pskov and Ryazan.”

”My lord Duke…” Patrikeev paused. “Do you not remember our earlier discussion-“

”I know, General.” Vasily sighed. “But I do not think we can delay any longer. My father always dreamed of a united Russia – and I have received information that makes that goal more important than ever before.
Novgorod is an easy target – in the last war, general, they held out less than eight months against you. If the nobles complain, we can placate them by promising them a share in the spoils of Novgorod.
General, I know this is a risk, but if Russia is to survive – if the Orthodox faith itself is to survive - we must dare greatly. Holding Novgorod and its wealth could be the difference between forging a Russian nation, and seeing the Russian people forever ground under the heel of oppressors.”

”If you feel it is unavoidable then, my lord Duke.” Patrikeev said. “I don’t know how the nobles will take this – but I can tell you – my men will be more than glad to teach the merchants a permanent lesson…”

* * *

Novgorod’s fall came just as quickly as it had before. Though the rulers of the city had sought to expand the city’s fortifications, most were still incomplete when General Patrikeev began his siege. The Novgorod army fled at the first sign of combat, escaping to the northern provinces that had once been part of the Novgorod Republic, now part of the Muscowy Grand Duchy. The fall of what had once been the greatest of the Russian states was inevitable.

Prince Eufimei kissed his wife as they parted. The fall of Novgorod was irreversible – the outer walls had fallen, much of the city garrison had defected to Muscowy and Tver. He knew the Muscovites had no intention of just stripping the Republic of its lands this time – Novgorod no longer had any lands to take. No, they intended to take the city for themselves, eliminate the merchant nobility that had ruled the city for centuries, and turn it over to their own nobles.

”I love you.” He whispered to his wife. “Remember, head east – there are Muscovite nobles sympathetic to our plight – in Sudzal, and the other duchies old Vasily stripped of their independence. They will protect you, and our son…

He knelt to kiss his infant son’s forehead. Someday, he should have been Prince of Novgorod, like his father, and his grandfather. Now, he would be raised by strangers, and inherit nothing…

“Come with us.” His wife whispered. “Please.”

”I cannot.” Eufimei said. “I would be recognised – you have better chances of escaping on your own than with me. As long a your son and you are safe, I will face whatever fate the Muscovites have for in store for me…
Tell our son of me, when he is old enough – tell him that Novgorod should be his, that he should always remember that..
Now go – quickly. The enemy will not be much longer.”

* * *

Vasily II walked confidently through the city of Novgorod, admiring the architecture, smiling as he saw the Muscowy banner flying over the palace at the centre of the city.
“There have been no problems, general?” He asked.

“Few.” Patrikeev replied. “A few minor complaints from merchants – but no rebellions, no uprisings. The people here were sick of Prince Eufimei’s idiotic policies – he signed the treaty giving your father control of almost half of Novgorod’s territories, and was later forced to surrender Ingermanland to the Livionian Knights. His declaration of war against Sweden three years ago was the last straw.”

”Indeed.” Vasily nodded. “I’ve never worked out what he thought that would accomplish.”

”Neither can anyone else.” Patrikeev laughed. “Apparently, he was under the mistaken impression the Kalmar Union was on the verge of collapse, and that the Danes and Norwegians wouldn’t answer Sweden’s call to arms – but even so, he stood no chance of defeating even Sweden on its own.”

”A fool.” Vasily said. “His execution should be a warning to all who sacrifice Russian lives in vain…
Which brings us to more recent news. The Golden Horde has seized Ryazan.”

”The Lithuanians?” Patrikeev asked.

“Are letting them keep it.” Vasily sighed. “Apparently, they’d rather the Mongols take a Russian city, than risk having them push further into Lithuania proper. Belarus and Chernigov are in flames already – they’re on the brink of civil war. Poland’s not willing to help them until the succession crisis is resolved in their favour. Right now, they’re lucky the Mongols aren’t willing to risk pushing further south – they could probably take a lot more territory if they did. I can understand why they’re doing it, but it makes my blood boil to see them throw Russians to the Mongols in order to save their own skin.”

”Sir, even with Lithuania in its current state, I cannot advise war with them now. Our armies still have yet to fully recover from the last war.” Patrikeev advised. “Civil war may be causing them problems now, but I am sure each faction would quickly put aside their differences against us.”

”Aye.” Vasily sighed. “And I’m having my own problems back home. The church is demanding I reverse my fathers reforms, while the nobility demands greater rights… you were right, when you warned me at my father’s funeral that the realm was not as stable as it could be. I’ve done my best to assuage their concerns, but things are still not perfect in the court.
No, we’ll bide our time. Let Lithuania burn itself out in internal struggle, while we build up our armies. When the time is right, we’ll strike back.”

”I look forward to it.” Patrikeev smiled. “I look forward to it indeed…”

* * *

OOC: Was going to cover the second Lithuania War tonight, but decided just to focus on the annexation of Novgorod. Will cover the Lithuanian war tomorrow.

First of January, 1431

“For eight long years, our fellow Russians have endured under the heel of the Lithuanians!” Vasily shouted from the walls of Moscow. Beneath him, more than ten thousand Muscovite soldiers stood, armed for war.

“The Duke of Lithuania has the blood of Russian nobility on his hands! The deaths of Duke Fedor, of Pskov, Count Dmitri – a member of his own court! And Duke Fedor III of Ryazan are on his hands! Many of you have lost family or loved ones in the last war against Poland-Lithuania!
Today, we avenge their deaths! Today, we march to war!”

Cheers filled the ranks of the soldiers, as Vasily donned his armour.

“My lord.” Patrikeev saluted, as they made their way down to join their troops. “I still feel you are taking a great risk, marching to war personally-“

”This entire war is a risk.” Vasily said. “I will not send my armies out to die and suffer alone – I will go with them, and share their pain.”

”Very well.” Patrikeev nodded. “What news from the Poles?”

”Our emissaries have had a great deal of luck.” Vasily smiled. “The Polish king apparently feels Lithuania’s current Duke deserves to be taken down, and has privately guaranteed he will not send troops against us – though, publicly, he will support Lithuania’s call for aid.”

“Surprising.” Patrikeev said.

“Aye – some political thing, I suppose.” Vasily nodded. “I can never make sense of the internal issues of the catholic kingdoms…
Ride safely, General. Your success or failure in the south will determine the fate of this war…”

* * *

The Russian strategy was simple, yet devastatingly effective against the divided Lithuanian armies. Many still recovering from the Mongol invasions of years past, or tied down with local revolts, they were no match for the massive army of knights and light horse archers as it made its way south with lightning speed. While the main Russian army, with Duke Vaisly at its head, began a siege of the northern cities, Patrikeev’s elite force headed directly for the capital of Vilnus itself.

“With his capital in ruins, the Duke of Lithuania will have no choice but to restore Pskov to Russian hands.” Patrikeev smiled to himself, as he oversaw the beginning of the siege. Vilnus was well fortified, but its supply lines had been cut, and the Russian army was well equipped for a long siege. Already, engineers were assembling great siege towers, and catapults and mangonels were armed, ready to batter down the city’s fortifications.

He laughed as he saw the first of the great boulders smash into the walls of Vilnus. In his many years as commander of the Muscowy army, he’d overseen many sieges, but few had been as satisfying as the taking of the Lithuanian capital.

* * *

Stefan, guard of the city of Pskov, wandered unenthusiastically through the streets of the city. He’d joined the guards five years ago, desperate for money, and hoping to continue the military tradition of his father and grandfather.

He now understood why his father had retired from the army after the fall of Pskov, and why he’d been so unenthusiastic about his son joining the guards. The Russians had arrived to liberate the city – and Stefan was expected to fight against them! He’d wanted to defend his family and neighbours, not to ensure their continued dominance by the Lithuanian heretics! But, for almost a year, that had been what he had been doing.

He sighed, as he heard the trumpets sound an alert – the Muscovites were making another attempt to break through the city walls. Grasping his halberd as he made his way to the walls, he wondered idly if there was some way to aid the Russians in freeing his city…

* * *

Duke Vasily II glanced at his meagre food in disgust. Some stale bread, a scrap of meat, some vegetables boiled until turning a uniform yellow colour. If this was what he was expected to eat, he shuddered to think what the rest of his army was surviving on.

He was beginning to regret his decision to personally lead the Muscovy army. Seiges, he’d learned, consisted of a great deal of standing outside in the cold, watching catapults and battering rams make futile attempts to breach the city walls, interrupted by the occasional terrifying night-time raids by Lithuanian patrols. He remembered the Lithuanian siege of Moscow, almost ten years before – now, he knew how much worse it was to be on the other side of the city walls.

”My lord.” One of his lieutenants saluted as he entered the duke’s tent. “One of the city guard wishes to meet with you.”

”A defector?” Vasily asked. “Has he been searched for weapons?”

”Aye, he’s unarmed. Shall I show him in?”

”Very well.” Vasily replied.

The Pskov guard entered the tent, escorted by two Muscovite soldiers.

“Duke Vasily.” He bowed. “Forgive me, but I have little time – I will be noticed as absent from my post soon. I am Stefan Klimov – and I wish to aid you in whatever way I can.”

“You would betray your people to me?” Vasily asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I would free my people!” Stefan said. “We are as Russian as you – my father served alongside the armies of Muscowy against the Lithuanians – Duke Fedor was the loyal ally of your father against Novgorod! The people of Pskov will welcome you – we have no love for the Lithuanians or their false church.”

”I understand.” Vasily nodded. “I believe you are honest – but I needed to hear you say those things yourself. We have risked much in this war, and cannot afford to fall prey to a Lithuanian ruse.
But, you speak with passion, and I believe you. What can you offer me?”

”There is a small side gate, near the south of the city.” Stefan explained. “It’s not on any of the maps you would have – the entire section of walls was rebuilt by the Lithuanians after the city fell to them. Three nights from now, I will be assigned to guard it. At midnight, I will unlock the gates – a small force could enter the city, kill the Lithuanian Count in the night.
By morning sire, all of Pskov would support you, and drive out the Lithuanians!”

“And end this siege with a minimal loss of life.” Vasily nodded. “Very good, Stefan of Pskov. If this goes as planned, you will be rewarded greatly for your assistance.”

”I ask for no reward.” Stefan replied. “My only hope is to see my city ruled by a Russian duke again.
Excuse me, my lord – I must leave now, before the others realise I am gone…”

* * *

The squad of Russian infantry marched silently through the side entrance. Two Lithuanians lay dead on the ground, stabbed in the back by Stefan before he unlocked the gate.

”This way.” He whispered. “We have only a little longer before the next shift begins-“

”Stefan!” A voice shouted out, as a pair of Pskov guards headed towards the gates. “Ivan and I want to swap shifts with you – I take the rest of tonight, if you’ll fill in for me-“

Stefan stared in terror, as the two new guards saw the Russian soldiers.

“What treachery is this?” One breathed, drawing his sword.

“Treachery only to the Duke of Lithuania!” One of the Russians stepped forward, throwing back his hood. “I am Vasily, son of Vasily, and Duke of Muscovy! I come to free this city from Lithuanian occupation!
Do you stand with your Lithuanian count – or with the people of Russia?”

”My lord!” One of the Pskovians bowed, nudging the other to do the same.

”You risk yourself unnecessarily.” One of the Muscovy soldiers whispered as they continued towards the city palace. “You need not have come on this mission personally - What if those guards had attacked?”

”I have faith in you to defend me.” Vasily replied. “And faith in the Russian people, not to stand in the way of their own liberation. Now let us move quickly – the Lithuanian count must be slain, and this city restored to Russian rule.”

* * *

By morning, the Lithuanian count was dead, his body displayed in front of the palace. Cheers erupted from the city, as Duke Vasily stepped out to greet them, and the Lithuanian banner was lowered from Pskov for the last time – the banners of Muscowy, and the old dukal flag of Pskov were raised in its place.

The small Lithuanian garrison made a token effort to fight off the Russians, but were overwhelmed, both by the enraged citizens of the now free city, and by the Muscowy forces, still surrounding the city, preventing their escape. Most, realising their position was hopeless, surrendered to Vasily.

As he joined the celebrations filling the city, a message reached Vasily. He read it, announcing it to the assembled crowds.

”Fellow Russians! I bring great news from the frontlines! The great general, Yuri Patrikeev, commander of the army of Muscowy, has once again ensured the victory of the Russian people! The city of Vilnus has fallen, and the Duke of Lithuania is now a captive of the Russian people!” He shouted, over the cheers of his armies. “Victory is now at hand!
Tonight, I ride south to meet with Duke Svitrigaila, and ensure he is forced to cede all Russian lands under his control to Muscowy and the Russian Alliance!”

As he made his way to the stables, Vasily laughed to himself. The war against Lithuania had been a gamble – but one that had paid off beyond his wildest expectations. Russian armies had seized much of northern Lithuania, and with Vilnus occupied by Muscowy, the Duke would have little choice but to cede all territories occupied to him. The war that had been intended to free only Pskov would end with the Russians of Kursk and Smolensk freed from Lithuanian occupation. Most importantly, Lithuania had been taught an important lesson, and Muscowy had proven itself an emerging power in the region.

Father would be proud of me, he thought to himself, satisfied, as he rode south to Vilnus.

NEXT: The Third Lithuanian War!

Images:

Muscowy after the Second Lithuanian War – Note the rebels besieging Belarus and holding Mozyr:



OOC: Well, that was a surprisingly good few years. About five seconds after I hit ‘declare war’, I wondered what on Earth I was thinking – but everything turned out great!
Still don’t know what was happening with Poland – they joined the war, but never sent an army to help Lithuania out; there were six thousand Polish troops standing in Volyn province while I was besieging the Lithuanian capital, never did a thing to stop me…

jwolf: Yea, I always feel kinda sorry for Novgorod; they’re the world’s whipping boy, eaten up every game by Muscowy, Lithuania, the Teutonic Order and Sweden – they never get a break…
Of course, after seeing Novgorod actually declare war on Sweden just weeks after I’d finished beating them up kinda made me lose a lot of my sympathy for them – it worked out good for me, let me take Novgorod in just one war after they lost their second province to Norway – but still, no idea what the AI was thinking there…

It had been almost three years since the end of the second Lithuanian war, and Muscowy was thriving. Pskov and the southern Russian cities had been integrated into the Grand Duchy without problems, though Lithuanian loyalists continued to ferment minor rebellions along the border. To the east, the once-powerful Golden Horde had collapsed, with rogue warlords declaring themselves independent Khans in Kazan and Crimea. Many in the Russian courts were calling on Vasily II to lead a campaign against the Mongols while they were divided, and the Duke was seriously considering the idea.

At home, Vasily’s wife Helen had borne him an heir, a healthy child named Ivan. Vasily spent his time concentrating on reforming Muscowy’s tax code, and gradually shifting centralising the growing Duchy. After a series of wars that had almost doubled the size of the country, the Russian state was settling in for a period of prolonged peace and stability.

* * *

Wladyslaw III, King of Poland, was not happy. The confusion over the succession of Lithuania had finally been resolved, and the new Duke of Lithuania recognised Poland as his overlord. With Lithuania as a vassal, Poland should have been well on its way to becoming the dominant power of Eastern Europe.

But Lithuania was a shadow of its former self. Its gains in the first Russian War had been lost to Muscowy and the Mongols, and its armies scattered by the cursed Russians. The capital was still recovering from its occupation by Russian troops, and much of its historical territories were under foreign rule.

“If my father had intervened against Muscowy in the last war, none of this would have happened.” Wladyslaw grumbled to himself. “Instead, our armies stood by and did nothing, while the damned schismatic Russians seized lands they had no right to claim… Now, thanks to that damned treaty, we’re forbidden to act against Muscowy for five years.”

He paused, considering the situation.

“Wait… Muscowy – we cannot attack Muscowy without violating the treaty. But Moscow’s ally Tver never signed the treaty – they never took part in the last war!”
He smiled slightly, a plan forming in his mind. Pulling out a map of Russia, he nodded in satisfaction. Gesturing to one of his aides, he spoke.
“Bring me my generals. We have war to plan. Ready a messenger to travel to the Duchy of Tver, and inform the Dukes of Lithuania that we expect them to be prepared for a new war with the Russians!”

* * *

”That explains the movement of Polish troops in Lithuania.” Vasily II said, as he read the message from Tver. “From Welikia, they’ll push north, and siege Tver itself.”

”The same tactics they used in the first Lithuanian war.” General Patrikeev commented. “Divide and conquer – go after the smaller states; easier to absorb, easier to garrison.”

”Very well.” Vasily rose. “Poland has declared war on a Russian dukedom, thus, they have declared war on Muscowy. General, prepare your armies to march west, and eliminiate the Polish army before it reaches Tver.”

”My lord.” An elderly Count spoke up. “We… we cannot declare war on Poland-Lithuania.”

”Cannot?” Vasily said coldly. “I am not accustomed to being told what I can or cannot do.”

“I… I mean no disrespect.” The Count said. “But… our treaty with Poland does not expire until December, in the year Fourteen Thirty-Seven. That is still almost two years from now. If we violate our oath-“

”And if we violate our oath of alliance with the Duke of Tver? What then, Count?” Vasily sneered. “Poland has found a loophole in the treaty, and I will not let them use that to seize another Russian duchy! General, we march to war – our oath to Russians far outweighs our treaties with the Latin Poles.
From this time forward, our treaty with Poland-Lithuania is meaningless; the Duchy of Muscowy is at war.”

The court messanger stepped forward, but Vasily waved him away.

”There is no reason to send a message to Poland informing them of our decision. The King of Poland knew well what my choice would be – he seeks to return Kursk and Smolensk to his rule.” Vasily said. “He will know we are at war when his armies meet with ours on the field of battle!”

* * *

The Russian army, again led by the aging but still formidable General Patrikeev, marched west. Word had been sent to Duke Boris, the new ruler of Tver, of the Polish army marching on his lands, and the Tver army moved south to join Patrikeev’s forces. It was on the plains of Welkia that the armies would meet, and the first battle of the Third Lithuanian war would be fought.

Patrikeev nodded in satisfaction, as he saw the arrayed lines of Muscowy knights, supported by men at arms and crossbowmen from Tver. Though there had already been a series of minor skirmishes with Polish scout forces, the Russians had yet to meet the Poles in open combat.

“Hail, General.” The commander of the army of Tver rode up to meet him. “I greet you in the name of my father, Duke Boris of Tver.”

”Ah, you must be his son, Mikhail.” Patrikeev nodded. “What news of the Polish army?”

”They are arraying for battle in the north, General Patrikeev.” Mikhail replied. “Equal numbers to our own force, though we have twice as many cavalry as they. A great number of catapults and other siege equipment is with them.”

“No doubt they intend to use it to breach the walls of Tver.” Patrikeev nodded. “But siege weapons will be of little use to them in a battle – catapults too inaccurate to use against soldiers, and too slow to reload. I shall direct a division of light cavalry to destroy their siege weapons – they will never make it to your father’s city.”

“Very good, General.” Mikhail nodded. “It is good that Muscowy remembers its obligations to its ally.”

”So long as Tver is Russian, Muscowy will always be prepared to defend it.” Patrikeev replied. “Now, let us prepare our armies for the battle!”

The battle of Welkia was the first in a series of long and bloody defeats for the Polish armies. Though adequately trained and equipped, the Polish infantry was no match for the Russian cavalry – many recruited from Pskov or Kursk, and eager to gain revenge for the Lithuanian occupation of their lands. Having lost much of his force, the Polish general eventually ordered a retreat, barely escaping the pursuing Russian horsemen.

Two days later, the Russians met the Poles in battle again, the Polish army now reinforced by Lithuanian infantry from Belarus. The result was less a battle than a slaughter; the untrained, poorly equipped Lithuanians proved more than a hindrance than help, blocking the retreat of Polish infantry as Russian crossbowmen rained bolts down on them. The Polish general was struck down early in the battle, causing the last scraps of discipline to abandon the scattered Polish troops. Of the fifteen thousand Polish and Lithuanian troops that took part in the battle, barely two thousand escaped.

The battle was not without casualties on the Russian side, however. Mikhail had fallen from his horse during the battle, trapped on the wrong side of a Polish formation. His body had been recovered after the battle, hacked to death by Polish infantry.

Patrikeev sighed as the broken body of the prince of Tver was brought to the Russian camp.

”Tell his father…” Patrikeev told one of the Tver officers assigned to take the body home to Tver. “Tell him his son died bravely against the enemies of Russia, and that Muscowy will mourn the death of the son of our great ally.”

The Tver army remained in Welkia, to besiege the capital of the province, and to guard Tver against any further Polish invasions. The army of Muscowy divided into three, two small forces heading south to besiege Belarus, Mozyr, the largest lead by Patrikeev headed once more to Vilnus to seize the Lithuanian capital.

As the Russians headed south, they passed through villages still loyal to the Orthodox faith, who ensured the army was well supplied in its journey. In one town, a young boy recognised Patrikeev, treating him as a long lost relative. Patrikeev realised he’d camped in the town three years before, during the last war – the boy’s father had lent him a new horse after his had fallen ill. Handing the boy a few gold coins for his family’s help, he sighed, hoping this would be the last time he would have to march through Lithuania.

* * *

Grandmaster Heinrich, lord of the Knights of the Livonian Order nodded as he read through the reports from the East.

“Lithuania and Muscowy are both threats to the Order.” He mused. “Lithuania envies our wealth, and seeks control of the Baltic. Muscowy seeks to seize all the territories of the Novgorod Republic, including those we took from them.”

”Aye.” An elderly knight nodded. “We lack the men to challenge either openly.”

”Then this new conflict could be exactly what we need.” Heinrich said. “Lithuania is weak; the Russians have once again scattered their armies. Polish reinforcements are still yet to arrive – in the confusion, we could easily occupy the Lithuanian towns along our border; they are ours by right.”

”Our involvement would decisively tip the balance of power towards the Russians, though.” The knight warned.

“Then the Russians will owe us a favour.” Heinrich said. “I feel Muscowy will win this war anyway – best we act quickly before the opportunity escapes us.
Lithuania has always been a worse neighbour than the Russians, after all.”

”Aye, that is true.” The knight nodded. Twice before, Lithuania had made war on the Livonian knights, and each time, the Livonians had been forced to pay great sums of money to the Lithuanians in exchange for peace. “Shall I order a declaration of war?”

”Let us first contact the Russians, and ensure they know of our plans.” Heinrich said. “I do not want any… confusion when our troops arrive.”

* * *

The arrival of the Livonian and Teutonic knights ended all hopes of a Polish victory. Livonian and Muscovite armies fighting together destroyed the main Polish army in mid-September, and soon after, Teutonic knights began a siege of Masovia. On New Year’s Day, 1437, Polish and Lithuanian emissaries arrived in Moscow to discuss terms of peace. Two weeks later, the Peace of Moscow was signed, ceding the province of Mozyr to Muscowy, and forcing Poland to pay massive tributes to Tver. The Livonian and Teutonic Knights had declined to sign the treaties, though it was expected they would make a separate settlement with the Poles soon.

“Lithuania is now split down the middle.” Patrikeev commented, viewing a map of the new borders. “The Ukraine is now separated from the capital by Muscowy.”

”Lithuania as a major power is effectively finished.” Vasily II said. “Poland… Poland we will still need to watch, perhaps more than ever. With Lithuania crippled, the Polish king will find it easier than ever to cement his control over it.”

“And what of the Livonians and Teutons?” Patrikeev asked. “Their grandmaster feels we owe them something for their assistance.”

”Never!” Vasily spat. “The Livonians and Teutons? Latin heretics, both of them – occupiers of Russian lands – Crusaders, of the same kind as those that betrayed Constantanople. No, Yuri, we owe them nothing.”

He stopped, calming himself.

”In any case, I wish to thank you for your service to the Russian people, and to my father and I. You have fought off the Lithuanians and Poles in three wars, and conquered against Novgorod.” Vasily said. “In thanks for your selfless service, you deserve reward.”

He handed the general a sheet of papers.

”Title deeds.” He explained. “I am granting you the title of Count of Kursk, and all the rights of a noble of Muscowy. It is only fitting that you who ensured those lands were restored to Russian rule should benefit from them.”

“I thank you.” Patrikeev said, overcome. “I.… you… thank you!”

”Now, if I may be frank.” Vasily continued. “General, this title and land is a reward you greatly deserve – but only if you can enjoy it. I do not mean to insult you – but you grow old, Yuri. You served my father all his reign, and have served me for many years. The time has come for you to retire from military.”

”My lord!” Patrikeev said, shocked. “Do you no longer want me?”

”I do not mean to insult you.” Vasily said. “But you should not be expected anymore to personally ride out to battle each time a new threat rises. I do not wish to loose you, Yuri – but I want you to know that I will understand if you choose to retire now.”

”I understand.” Patrikeev said. “And thank you. I shall consider your offer.”

”Remember, Yuri.” Vasily smiled. “Muscowy is at peace now – you are not abandoning your post in a time of war. Our enemies are, at least for the moment, beaten back – thanks largely to you. Russia is all but united; the Mongols are in chaos, Novgorod is destroyed. Lithuania is crippled, and even Poland will take years to recover from its current state. At least for now, the wars are over…”

* * *

Images:

A divided Lithuania after the Third Lithuanian War: