I. 1. Getting Started
“I’m not sure you can do this.”
“Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”
Those are the two voices constantly arguing with each other in my head.
“Why shouldn’t I be able to do this?” I ask stupidly.
Because you are an independent count, the only one in the
de jure Duchy of Breizh, surrounded by the Duke of Breizh himself and his vassals, who are just waiting to smash you into the ground for your single, miserable holding. You have no army, no prestige, no allies, zero technology growth, and forty pieces of gold, which is about one month’s salary for a decent band of mercenaries you can’t afford to hire anyway.
All right, I do have an army. A small one. Fourteen hundred men. About one fifth the size of the army the Duke of Breizh has at his disposal. Very few lords have an army smaller than mine. Oh, down in the Canary Islands. Theirs is puny.
Seriously, I think danger is imminent. I know the Duke is just a hair’s breadth away from declaring war on me. I need allies fast, ones who would fight for my cause. Which means I need to get married to people rich and powerful.
“Not just you, but your two sons as well.” Yes, I have two sons, Eozen and Menguy. Don’t ask me who their mother was.
I look east. There’s William of Normandy, on the verge of invading England with his host of tens of thousands. But he has only one sister, she’s ugly, and anyway already married. The boy-King of France has no female relations.
Iberia? South of the Pyrenees, there are Infidels, four Christian kings, a couple of dukes. Three of the four Christian kings are brothers: Galicia, Leon, Castille. Not really sure they can stand each other. A couple of possible brides.
There’s also the king of Navarra. Two counties.
“Is that all? How come he’s a king?” “He is rich and powerful.” One possible bride interest.
I don’t just need allies though. I need
land. Unlanded nobles are not merely ridiculous, they are hounded off the face of the earth. I need to conquer more territory. That way, should worst come to worst, and Breizh deprive me of Broërec, I have somewhere to fall back on. Ideally, I should have allies who a) would defend me against Breton aggression,
and b) help me conquer new territory.
I think I’ve found just the man.
His Grace the Duke of sunny Salerno is independent, rich, powerful, and has two marriageable daughters, one of them very marriageable indeed. In addition, his domain sits right next to lovely, little, wealthy Amalfi, whose army is much smaller than mine... when you combine mine with Salerno’s. A letter is despatched to Italy.
Gaita di Salerno comes to Broërec to wed my younger son Menguy. The younger, because for Eozen, my first-born son and my heir, I look for someone a bit closer to home. Closer to Breton customs and tongue. All my fellow Bretons hate me. So I look north, across the Channel.
The Duke of Cornwall is Breton. So is the Earl of Norfolk! But they are vassals. No good for alliances. In Wales, however, there are independent Petty Kings. Like Gwynedd, for example, who has a very nice daughter going by the name of Denis (without a final 'e').
Eozen de Rohan and Denis, daughter of the Petty King of Powys in Wales, become man and wife.
Last but not least, my scheming self. I humbly ask for the hand of Mentzia Gartzez, thirty-six if she’s a day, but sister of the King of Navarra and of the Count of Najeera. Request granted. I even manage to collect from the party guests.
“Are we done with the mating game yet?” “Stop whining, this man has gone from nobody to a nobody with respectable allies!”
Not to mention the huge boost in prestige from marrying such noble ladies. But there’s time for a gesture of good will. The Earl of Norfolk was in search of a wife. For want of a sister, I offered him my most desirable courtier, Emma. He is, after all, a fellow Breton. Offer accepted.
*
Then, for the next ten years, I come to realise how
calm things can be at the Court of a minor noble. I also discover that mere Counts cannot research technology, so what is my Council to do all day?
At least the Spymaster can study tech in nicer provinces than Broërec. As for my Chancellor, I pack him off to Amalfi, which I desire.
Count Iocilin and sons are able to enjoy wedded bliss to their heart’s content, without being disturbed by the intrigues that plague nobler houses. The Count and his new wife soon produce a daughter whom they christen Maria. But rather than just eat, drink, and watch the heather bushes grow, we take note of the turmoil with which Grander Folk seem so concerned.
Between 1066 and 1071:
-- Matilda Duchess of Tuscany breaks away from the HRE ; I keep a wary eye on things because of my ally in Italy, praying no harm comes to him ; right after the weddings in Broërec, the Chancellor is sent to fabricate a claim on Amalfi ;
-- also in the HRE, the Duke of Flanders breaks away, becoming independent (but for how long?) ; oh, and Kaiser Ordulf sets up his own puppet pope ;
-- William the Bastard invades and conquers England ! The king of Norway has a jab at it too ; the two end up dividing the spoils: Norway gets pieces of Scotland and the Duchy of Cornwall (two counties) ; Normandy becomes part of the Kingdom of England. One curious consequence is that France is cut off from the Channel and the North Sea, for those coastal lands belong to Breizh, England, Flanders, and the HRE ;
-- Castille attacks the Infidel and succeeds in taking territory from them ;
-- still no attack from Breizh, but the Count of Kernev on Broërec’s west fabricates his own claim on my county.
I knew this was going to happen
At home, and despite his fifty-six years, Monsieur de Rohan learns stuff.
Between 1071 and 1076, things start to heat up.
William of Normandy goes to meet his Maker in 1071. I learn that the laws of succession in that realm have changed. England has become an elective monarchy. It’s going to be a bit trickier forging an alliance with England. The new king, for example, hails from the House of Godwin.
In 1072, rebellion erupts in Breizh. The Count of Kerven vs his liege lord the Duke. Good news: normally, my fellow Bretons will be exhausting themselves in combat, leaving themselves vulnerable to attack and conquest. Should I aim for gaining Breton land ? Nothing seems to be happening with Amalfi. Do I pull the Chancellor out, fabricate a claim elsewhere ?
I decide to keep him in Amalfi.
Rebellion breaks out in France next. South of the Pyrenees, the king of Léon murders his brother, king of Galicia, taking that crown for his own. But the Infidel continues losing land to Castille and to the extraordinarily brave Duke of Barcelona. Incidentally, a king of Aragon does exist (single county start, poor soul...).
In 1075, the Breton Duke surrenders to Bardulf de Cornouaille, henceforth Bardulf the Usurper. The ex-Duke’s wife, daughter and illegitimate son flee to a neutral, friendly Court... mine! Ha! Aren’t you glad I wasn’t your vassal? Then in 1076, Aquitaine breaks away from France. Leading to this strange configuration: France has no more coastal territory west of the Pyrenees ! Those are shared between Aquitaine, Broërec, Breizh, England and the HRE.
A break finally comes in 1077. We have a claim on Amalfi.
At last, a second holding on the horizon
I declare war instantly on Amalfi. Trying not to swagger, I call my allies Gwynedd, Navarra, and Salerno to war. The last two honour their obligation. Gwynedd does not.
Our men are rounded up. My Marshal has been awaiting this moment, training, training, training. We have swollen from 1400 to 1600 soldiers and horse. We sail from Broërec late June.
As we approach the Cape of Tunis, I see a flotilla of the Infidel straight ahead. Whither are these wretched souls bound ? Amalfi ! Wouldn’t you know, Moslem Malta and Mazar, a tiny speck on the western edge of Sicily, have also claimed Amalfi, and they are sending not 1600 but 5600 fighting men.
“Cursed Infidels!”
This is painful. Am I going to face an army four times greater than mine? I fail to notice that Salerno is calling to us, they have already begun the siege of Amalfi. My ships sail on gloomily.
Which is when I somehow get a notification from home: Baldurf the Usurper claims Broërec -- I am at war with the Duke of Breizh.
We are at the coast of Latium. I do not give the order to disembark. I have to go defend the one piece of land I own. Such a shame, I so wanted Amalfi ! I guess I can always make another claim on it. We turn around to sail back home.
I do make another call to arms. Our ally’s home territory is under siege? Sorry, can’t help, say Salerno and Navarra. What is Navarra doing anyway ? I look: they’ve parked in Barcelona, where they’ve decided to fight Infidels. Cursed in-laws!
But Gwynedd will help this time. 2700 defenders are already gathering in Gwynedd.
We reach home in January 1078. Broërec is under siege, 3000 attackers. More than double the number of brave Broërecians. But we have attrition. Of the 1600 that left under the banner of Rohan to conquer Amalfi, only 1300 return. Breizh’s army is almost three-fourths as big again as ours. It’s the end. We disembark in Roazhon and begin to lay siege.
Where’s Gwynedd? They’re at home, waiting. Sitting there. Not moving. Stupid AI.
“Good tidings, Monsieur!”
“Really? What?”
“Amalfi is ours! Amalfi has surrendered to us!”
I can’t believe it. Salerno held the siege for us, and won! I am now Count of Broërec
and Grand Mayor of Amalfi.
“Grand Mayor? Ppfff!” “Prince
Mayor once the dust settles.”
I besiege Roazhon, the Duke besieges Broërec, Gwynedd sits on its backside. My home castle is occupied in August. Furthermore, I’m hopelessly in debt.
Only then does Gwynedd budge. Suddenly there are ships. They’re heading for Breizh ! They sail around Léon. They stop.... No. They’re not. Yes, they are. They’re going to disembark right in Broërec, smack in the midst of battle, when their morale will be close to nil. They’re going to be crushed.
With a cry of desperation, I lift the siege of Roazhon. To Broërec !
We get there after the battle has begun. Gwynedd has recovered a bit of morale, but their 2700 have shrunk somehow and are taking a beating. We arrive just in time. I’m down to 1200 men. It’s enough to tip the balance ! We’re winning... almost there... Yes ! Victory is ours !
I can’t believe it.
We chase the Duke around the Breton countryside, to Kernev, Léon, then back to Broërec. Another battle, another victory! And a third to get some stragglers.
We stay put, recovering, relieving my castle. Breizh has disappeared. But not for long. I find out they have boarded their own ships and taken off for Amalfi ! By February of 1079, they’re besieging my lovely Italian possession.
My home castle liberated, we return to laying siege Roazhon. The weeks fly by. Amalfi is close to collapse. I will not give up Amalfi ! But how do I save it ? I can’t sail there again, Gwynedd would certainly not follow.
Unless... is there any way I could make this war disappear ?
An edict is drawn up and published world-wide. I confer the title to Amalfi on Iocilin de Rohan, first-born son of my first-born son Eozen, almost nine years old (practically a man already).
It worked ! Change of sovereign,
casus belli invalid ! The siege of Amalfi is instantaneously aborted !
I’m still laying siege to the Duke of Breizh in Roazhon. End of September, 1079, we occupy Roazhon. Where is the Duke of Breizh ? Heading back our way.
Which is when my Divine Maker summons me to eternal rest.
Don’t give up ! You can do this ! I shout to my son and heir, hoping he can hear me.
Rule, Rohannia !
Please, God ?
But speaking of your first-born, how fareth thy small dynasty, you ask ? Stay tuned....