The coming months saw vast improvements in the efficiency of Swedish tax systems, mostly in the southern regions (as the new methods required outlays of cash which the Duke could not afford to pay). The fact that half of this new revenue still went straight to Copenhagen was not lost on His Grace, and he sought the proper excuse to terminate this one-sided agreement; none of Sweden’s neighbors were threatening enough to warrant paying such a high price for safety. Besides, he reasoned, the army that he could field with the additional income would more than protect Sweden against any potential aggressor.
He found his opportunity in a war that sprouted in the snowy wastes of Russia. The Grand Dukes of Muscovy had forged an alliance with the other small states surrounding Novgorod, and were pursuing a campaign in the eastern regions. Novgorod’s small army was being soundly thrashed by the Muscovite generals, and the Duke leapt at the chance to claim the vast, unpopulated expanses of Kola and Karelia, and the province of Kexholm, which shared both culture and religion with his own government, and not with the Russians. A rider delivered the declaration of war to the capital, finding a city in panic and disarray as Muscovite and Suzdalite armies gained ground daily. Three detachments of 1,000 infantrymen each crossed the border on January 6, 1421, and siezed the three undefended towns without a fight. They returned to their command post in Savolaks to await the end of the harsh Russian winter, so that they might begin a siege of the Novgorodian capital. As the snows melted away into spring, the eighteen-some odd thousand-man army marched on Novgorod, settling in for a siege in early April. They would not claim victory for almost a year, and only three thousand would return home. The Muscovites, ever eager to conquer their old rivals, and seemingly uncaring of casualties, sent wave after wave of reinforcements to be directed by Swedish commanders. The city fell in early January of 1422, the tears of the Russian peasants melting through the fresh snow as the few ragtag Swedish survivors led their informal allies through the streets of the city on their way to seize the leader of the battered nation.
The Duke agreed to travel to Novgorod for the treaty signing, as it was a fair neutral ground between Moscow and Stockholm. Between them the two nations controlled all of Novgorod save for Pskov’s conquest of Ingermannland, but there was no formal alliance between the nations, and as such the treaty had to be negotiated “seperately”. The Duke saw to it that his goals were achieved by keeping them modest, and held conference with the Muscovite king before he went to the peace table.
“I am prepared to accept peace with Novgorod in exchange for the territories of Kola and Karelia, and the city of Kexholm. Swedish nationals will resettle the two territories and Kexholm will be under Catholic rule, saving you the necessity of appeasing the locals in their religious beliefs. You can take whatever you want from the rest, but I understand that Pskov has already agreed to surrender Ingermannland in exchange for a few chests of gold.” He proposed a rational deal in a calm, collected manner, and got back a response in kind.
“Da. Muscovy will claim the rest of their lands. It has been a pleasure, Your Grace.” With that curt exchange, the deal was done, and the treaty put in writing later that day. What Muscovy was not informed of was that the profitable city-state would now tithe to the Duke of Sweden, and no one else. Sweden’s position was greatly strengthened.
Over the course of the war, Denmark had moved into Mecklemburg and Bremen, annexing the small German principalities and absorbing them into the Danish empire. As they prepared to do the same to Oldenburg, the Duke saw his chance; he refused to honor the Union, and broke the economic treaty along with the military one. Unrest grew substantially, but there were no significant splinter groups, and no rebellions arose. The Duke made preparations for his coronation as King of Sweden, and a few hundred miles away, word reached the city of Oslo that the Union was dissolved.
The Norwegian Duke, a man by the name of Norgesvenn, shook his head solemnly at the news. Tensions had been high these last few years, and the end had finally come. Their larger neighbor would certainly look to Norwegian lands for expansion if he did not act quickly, and so act he did.
Norgesvenn walked out onto the balcony of his statehouse, overlooking the public square, and read the Swedish proclamation. The crowd exploded, but he raised his arms in a gesture of silencing. He had something important to say.
“The Swedes are fools!” He declared at the top of his lungs. “We shall do the opposite!”
In the back of the crowd, a Swedish agent shook his head slowly and turned to leave the area. “Game over…” he muttered to himself as a smirk crossed his face underneath a large hood.
Denmark inherited the lands of Norway that month, and just a week before he would become King, the Duke died peacefully in his sleep. At least, that was what the diplomats and populace were told. In reality I saw his heart give way in the middle of one of his little trysts with farm girls plucked from the countryside; the girl was executed to keep her quiet. Sometimes I can’t help but question the morality of the events transpiring inside me, but what’s a castle to do? A man calling himself only the National Regent stepped from the shadows of the court, rising to power after having just returned from his mission in Oslo. The same signature that was on the final report to the Duke was on the orders to begin colonizing the vast untouched regions of Lappland, Kola, and Karelia; the remaining Russians in the latter two were quickly absorbed into the growing Swedish population, and the Orthodox practitioners far outnumbered by the Catholics. In 1427 the three towns would become cities, and a year later the entirety of Sweden would be in possession of the new, improved tax collection systems and agents, greatly increasing revenue to the Regent’s government.
The Regent was constantly on the lookout for a King, but only one of the same line that had previously ruled Sweden, before the Union began. His searches met with little success, but he kept them up diligently and hopefully, making his sole mission in life the restoration of the legitimate Swedish crown.
Ten years to the day after the old Duke had set his sights on the eastern reaches of the realm, those lands were in the posession of Sweden, and she was poised to strike at any enemy who could challenger her, allied with Muscovy, Poland, and Lithuania. Together they formed a quadruple powerhouse in the East, and safeguarded each other through their own mere existence.
But dark times awaited the Regent. His right to sleep under my roof was about to be challenged.
