Part 9:
The Hammer of Poland
Poland attacked the
Samogitians in Zhmud in the summer of 1133 and it was clear that a stand had to be made. Christian Poland had expanded on the expense of the pagan Balts for decades, and were getting ever stronger. Even though the Poles were evenly matched with the Skilfing realm the fight had to be now. King Rörek sent out a
budkavle to order the local leidang to be mobilized, but the realm was weary. For years, lords had marched across the realm in rebellion or counter-insurgency and so many had died. The forces mobilized, for so said the
law of the ting in Uppsala:
Nu biuþer kunungar liþ och leþung utt, biuþær utt roþ ok reþ, þa skal næmpnæ hampn ok stampn ok styriman ok hasætæ allæ.
("Now the king requests limb and ledung, and rowing and tools, then you shall name harbour and stem and captain and all rowmen")
but the groups were small, and especially the finnish tribes sent only a few men as answer to the call.
Eidsivating, fall of 1133
The gathered norwegian farmers looked uneasy. Nobody had threatened them, to be sure, but a large number of armed men - "guards" - were about, some norwegian, some swedish, some danish. Everybody carried the hunted look fifteen years of marching armies, burned homesteads, destroyed crops and raped daughters gave a populace. Rumours were flying. The last years had seen three shifts of king, and the Skilfing armies were always just beyond the next wood. Now, they said, a smalltime Jarl from the borderlands had a claim to the throne.
The new lawman, Odd son of Eirik, stood up and ushered the gathering to silence.
"For many a year we have seen unrest and plague across these lands," he began. He stopped and looked uncertainly at a few well-dressed men standing near him. A tall, gaunt man carrying the mark of the Skilfings looked impatiently at him and made a gesture with his hand.
"...but now we are to have peace. No more will we have the never-ending wars betwixt Ynglings and Telemarkers. Now we will see a return to the tried ways of old." Lawman Odd swallowed. "We shall have as king Olaf of Dal!"
A short, stocky man with an enormous nose stepped forward in front of the crowd so that all could see. He smiled happily to the assembled Ting and seemed to beam with joy.
The peace in Norway freed up several regiments worth of troops which were highly needed in Poland. King Domawuj of the Piasts was evenly matched with the Swedish realm i troops, but the Poles were well centered near the border while the Skilfing levies had to march for hundreds of
landmil before even reaching the battlefield. King Rörek opted for a strategy where his forces avoided the main Polish armies and instead focused on subjugating the countryside and the local lords.
For the first time, the Russian vassals were mobilized in force, and for much of the war they carried the brunt of the fighting. During 1134, Rörek's forces slowly crept across Poland, defeating small detachments of
pospolite ruszenie along the way. Still, the resistance from the Piasts was hard and it was not until the forced recruitment of local Poles into the army the war finally turned in favor of king Rörek.
In the winter of 1134, most of Poland was in Skilfing hands.
Palanga in the lands of the Latgalians, spring of 1135
The old man stood up and groaned.
"I am getting to old for this," he thought. For precisely that reason, he had left active leadership of the main armies to Håkon.
"The boy is doing well," king Rörek thought to himself.
"He will make a fine king once I'm gone." Rörek knew that day could not be far off now. He wasn't sick and hadn't gone into childhood as some did... but it couldn't be long before Odin decided to bring him to his hall now. All his friends were gone and several of his younger siblings.
"Even some of my children," he thought, but quickly pushed that thought away. Dwelling on sorrow wouldn't do for a king fighting a war, even if he'd been sitting most of it out.
Rörek had been careful. He had taken command of his own troops from Uppland and kept the Polish forces from slipping past the main Skilfing armies. An invasion of the northern provinces wouldn't help against keeping the clan chiefs from rebelling. Most of the war had been an uneventful wait, interspersed with a few skrimishes and mopping up local polish garrisons in small forts in the countryside. Still, there had been certain
perks...
"I wonder if I can get a hold of that blonde Latgalian girl I saw serving last night." Rörek's age hadn't lessened his appetite for women. Then he heard the horns blow outside his house and men shouting. He grabbed his broadsword and quickly exited throught the door.
Nobody had a good explaination to how the Poles had gotten this far into the camp. Probably a combination of local traitors, lax routines after so long and just luck. When Rörek stepped out, two of the
Szlachta knights raiding the camp saw the well-dressed older man coming out of a house and immediately charged for him.
As they neared, years of battle experience allowed Rörek to duck the swing of the first rider and then bury his sword in the gut of the Pole.
The swing of the second rider he did not duck.