Hehe you're always so quick to respond. I really do appreciate it blklizard
and yes Ramnulf is making some moves and as for Louis...watch this space my friend
A Dream of Aquitaine (An Old Gods AAR)
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Hehe you're always so quick to respond. I really do appreciate it blklizard
and yes Ramnulf is making some moves and as for Louis...watch this space my friend
Hehe you're always so quick to respond. I really do appreciate it blklizard
and yes Ramnulf is making some moves and as for Louis...watch this space my friend
Sometimes I think I hang out in the forums too much
. Just needed a brief break from writing and your AAR came up. I'm going to assume that the next update is due a month from now?
Sometimes I think I hang out in the forums too much
I might surprise you there my friend. Am going to try and get it out in the next couple of weeks
Why do I have a sneaking Surspision that this is a war against West Francia. Still very good chapter my friend. Our Characters are doing well it seems.
P.S Also thanks for the Fan of the Week Nomonation.
EDIT: Correction War with the Germans,
Still very good chapter my friend. Our Characters are doing well it seems. P.S Also thanks for the Fan of the Week Nomonation.
EDIT: Correction War with the Germans,
Y
War with the Germans? What us? Never! <coughs! Splutters!>
It's all about getting back West Francia for the kingdom and expanding my demesnes for me. Let's see how we get on shall we lol?
And you're very welcome Saxon
Why do I have a sneaking Surspision that this is a war against West Francia.
P.S Also thanks for the Fan of the Week Nomonation.
EDIT: Correction War with the Germans,
War with the Germans? What us? Never! <coughs! Splutters!>
It's all about getting back West Francia for the kingdom and expanding my demesnes for me. Let's see how we get on shall we lol?
And you're very welcome Saxon
Chapter 5
Ramnulf II’s Story: Conquest
It is August in the year of our lord 885: I am the Count of Nantes-another title to add to my many. I won this territory from the pagan Norse by conquest and have fulfilled a vow I made many years ago to my father that I would avenge him. Is that the end of my ambition you may well wonder dear chronicle? I think not! My avaricious appetite espies the rest of what was heretofore the Kingdom of Brittany and it wants more…
Vengeance is mine!
And we are once more the Kingdom of West Francia: my lord, King Louis, has prevailed over the Germans-just as I said he would.
My wife is pregnant with our third child. Our love remains undimmed.
My brother has become my most steadfast supporter and right arm-he is now the Count of Poitiers and Lord Marshal of the Duchy of Aquitaine. He has won me many victories over Breton, Gascon and pagan.
My younger sons Henri and Aldebert thrive-the elder, Henri has been sent to the household of my true friend Geoffrey of Thouars to be schooled in the ways of the world-mayhap he will also learn something of cunning whilst there. My ‘other son’ I have elevated to be my Chancellor and in that position he thrives-he will not succeed me, though-for certes.
My lands are now subject to elective succession law-it has turned many heads amongst my peers. I care not! I will protect with all my life the inheritances that I myself have been bequeathed.
And I have added the rich county of Bordeaux to my demesnes…but not its neighbour Agen that I also coveted-it was almost the cause of an irreparable split between my sovereign and myself.
But, as usual, I run away with myself. You will forgive me: it has been many years since I last picked up a quill and invested your pages with my memories-so much has happened. I will not bore you with detail, however, but instead focus on the three paramount events of the turbulent decade that has just passed, namely:
how I increased my demesnes.
The succession law changes and
the war with the Germans.
I started my own war against the Gascons in Bordeaux with a murder. It was a necessary one-at least that was what Geoffrey had advised me with some urgency.
‘You have a viper in your nest my lord’ he had said, his usually amiable face looking grim, ‘and it is none other than the boy Count of Angoulême. He-or his Council plot against you-would foster new rebellions in the Duchies...’
My mouth had tightened grimly-it would seem that my admonishments two years past had fallen on deaf ears. ‘And what would you have me do about this milksop Geoffrey?’
Thouars crossed the Solar in which we were sitting drinking some warmed mulled wine and put a proprietary hand on my shoulder, ‘the lad must be done away with Ramnulf…’
‘A murder? The boy has passed but fourteen summers.’
‘I would call it a judicious killing for the weal of the Duchy my lord-none will trace it back to you-my agents will see to that.’
I hesitated…was this what we had come to? It seemed so.
‘Make it happen my lord of Thouars-make it happen.’ My shoulders slumped but deep down I knew that it must be so: we were about to embark on a succession of wars with the newly appointed Lord Marshal of Aquitaine to return Bordeaux and Agen to our vassalage-I could not afford to be watching my back at the same time. These were not plans that I particularly wanted to share with my lady wife but I had a feeling that her head would win over her heart in the matter-as usual I was not wrong. The young Count was dead within the month under the most suspicious of circumstances-he was succeeded by his little brother, Roubaud, a stripling of only eight years and a lad much more compliant and less hostile to his liege lord. This was really a message for his implacable mother, the Dowager Countess Regelinda: if I could get to her eldest son then I would similarly not hesitate to strike down her one remaining boy, leaving her only a daughter and the County of Angoulême forfeit to me.
There had been some last ditched attempts to stop this war-my enemy, Duke Gartzia, had just been appointed by De Jouillat, the Marshal of Aquitaine and Master of the Horse. War between high lords of the realm would not do the Regent had spluttered to me. For my own part, I challenged him to produce any edict or law that forbade me to return what was rightfully mine to my dominion-he could not and the King remained steadfastly neutral. So in February of the year 878 news reached us that our army had marched under Mayor Liop and Gauzbert, boosted by the levies of our ally, Count Bernard III of Toulouse, my sister Adelaide’s puissant brother by law. It numbered over thirteen hundred spears. At the same time another of our allies: Count Foucher of Foix, my sister’s husband and Toulouse’s younger brother, led a smaller force of several hundred and drove into Armagnac. Of our third ally, my uncle of Limousin there was an undertaking to join us but no actual fighting men as yet.
Aye-I have some powerful friends
The next month our forces were joined in Armagnac and, numbering over two thousand, they engaged seven hundred of the enemy at a place called Lectoure, utterly shattering them. I remember awaiting every missive with dread anticipation such that my mood changed-I could not sleep and found myself lashing out at servants and even my lady wife. Even the tidings of victory could not seem to lift my mood nor the untimely death of Bishop Aubry-ever the warrior- of an infected wound whilst besieging one of Bordeaux’s citadels.
Leave me alone!
I appointed Bishop Jaspert of Saint Savin to his place on the Council-he was much more my man and would not oppose me as Aubry had. Our Pope, Nicholas, also died that summer-Honorius II succeeded to the Papal see. For my part I cared not a whit-all that mattered was how my armies fared against the Duke of Gascogne.
To war!
Crushed!
As the Christ Mass approached of that year I took it upon myself to spend that holiday period with Count Geoffrey in Thouars itself. I travelled, for once, with my whole family-it had been a difficult year, what with my mood and I was intent on making amends with Ximena-the two young boys would provide us a lightness and gaiety that had been missing in my life for some months. At our arrival at their well provisioned manor in the County Capitol Ximena was made welcome immediately by Geoffrey’s wife, Countess Eustachie, a plump, bright and bustling young woman who had already at twenty five, sired five children with her lord: four boys and a girl. The boys, two of whom were twins, soon took our two children into their charges, my wife busied herself with Eustachie, leaving me to catch up with my friend. For his part he was surprised that I had been so low of mood lately, ‘you are one of the foremost lords in the realm, second only after your ally Bernard of Toulouse and you have twice his revenues-why so glum my friend?’ He had said clapping me on the shoulder and ushering me towards the great hall where we were greeted by servants carrying large goblets of wine.
‘I know not Geoffrey-all should be well yet all I do is worry’ I said my voice betraying my frustration, ‘I am hoping that a yuletide spent with you and your family will lighten my mood. I have…I have also been praying to God earnestly to aid me in my ventures...’
I remember the look of astonishment on his face, ‘Jesu it must be bad if you do pray to the almighty for his assistance Ramnulf!’ He had then, as was his wont, laughed uproariously and led me to his private study. When we were alone he turned to me a huge smile upon his features, ‘mayhap this news will brighten your day your grace.’
I was intrigued, ‘do tell my lord of Thouars-do tell.’
‘Well it seems that your Chancellor has been right busy up north and has through study of their ancient laws and by use of some trickery managed to produce a claim for your right to overlordship of the county of Nantes!’
I was dumbfounded. ‘How?’
‘Never mind the how my old friend-it is the “whether” that you should be more concerned with-it will cost you: there are an army of lawyers that must be paid off if this is to stand.’
My answer was instantaneous: ‘I care not the cost Geoffrey-this is the county that still harbours my father’s killer as its Chief. I would pension my very soul to get at them.’
This is only the start Breton scum!
‘Well it will not cost as much as that-more like one hundred and fifty gold crown-our coffers can afford it Alphonso tells me.’
Now it was my turn to beam and arm in arm we returned to the main Hall laughing and giggling like schoolboys of half our age: it seemed my dreams of expansion were coming to fruition.
Early in the New Year of the year of our Lord 879, Bordeaux fell to my forces and my Liege at last became a man, though to me he was, of course, at sixteen, still a boy. He remained somewhat shy, a kind lad with an eye for food and drink but conviction in his God and a knack for the peddling of secrets. This latter was something that he had learned both from me and his erstwhile master, De Jouillat, whose fall from grace was as swift as it was spectacular, though not unexpected, for what further use had the King for the man who had kept him on such a tight leash throughout all these years?
But as surely as a storm follows the brightest of summer’s days did a quarrel arise between Louis and myself over the limits of his authority. I had been summonsed to an audience with the King in the Spring of 879-I thought that we would, as usual, pass the time alone, making our plans together-the young ruler and his most true ally and friend. I was surprised therefore when I was called to the audience chamber with many a courtier and most of the council present.
Louis looked grim-an ill omen of what was to come. ‘My Lord of Aquitaine you will be aware that our Council, of which you are an integral part, did pass a law only this month that gave me greater authority to wield in the execution of the King’s law and the King’s justice no?’
Meh!
I remembered the law-had abstained-was not interested in the King’s prerogatives-only my own. ‘I do my Lord King.’ I had responded smoothly, completely unaware of the thunderbolt that was about to strike.
‘Then you will also recall that in the provisions of that law was an undertaking from all my lords to not war upon each other…’
Hmmmm...
All I remember hearing, at that point, was the drumming of the rain upon the roof of the palace. To me it felt as if old time itself had stood still.
‘You are at war with another of my Councillors, the Duke of Gascogne, are you not sir?’
I remember I could feel my face reddening, ‘I only seek to return what is mine to my demesnes Sire-I seem to recall in times past that I had your full backing for such an undertaking-had-‘
The young man before me cut me off with a peremptory wave of his hand, ‘that was before I came of age my lord and before this law was passed!’
I stared as if surveying a new man before me-where was the simpering boy that I had patiently tutored? Mayhap I had done my work too well for of him there was none here. And then his features softened, looked upon me more kindly: ‘Ramnulf of Aquitaine I would not rob you of what is yours but the war must be ended-you understand? New laws and new ways must perforce be abided by-how else can I stamp my authority on the realm?’
I remember stiffly kneeling in the age-old gesture of obeisance ‘as you wish my king.’ I had then risen and stalked from the hall, the whispers and pointed looks of the court accompanying me like the furies from days of antiquity.
I'm going to cry!
And so the war had ended with Bordeaux accepting me as their new lord but Agen being retained by Gartzia-I was not happy and it was many months before I would treat with the King as a friend again. It was finally my long-suffering wife who admonished me to stop acting the child and speak to the lad. It was a difficult meeting that summer of 879 but I had accepted with as good a grace as I could why the boy had found the need to effect this show of strength with the second lord of his realm.
‘It served as a lesson to all Ramnulf-my barons would heed that if I could set strictures to you, my friend, that I would not hesitate to do so to others not as mindful of my weal-can you not see that?’
I had grudgingly nodded grumbling that at least he could have given me some warning.
‘But then all would have seen it for the mummer’s farce it would have been, my lord’ the lad said smiling.
I smiled back-it would seem that for the sake of our friendship we would forgive each other and moreover the lad was right though I was too proud to admit it to him then. The rest of our time that heady afternoon in August was taken up with me telling him how it was my intention to take Brittany county by county and build a power base for his realm (and me of course) in that benighted land that had always held itself aloof from the affairs of the Franks, its folk a wild and unruly peoples.
He had been enraptured by my plans…
I had also warned him of my intent to change the Ducal succession laws in Poitou and Aquitaine to an elective one. My sovereign had listened intently, had not gainsaid me and had finally given me leave to make these changes: if I was content then so would be, he had opined simply-and that was that.
We changed the laws in November of 880-a momentous occasion though not so for my namesake son, Ramnulf who was immediately disinherited in favour of my brother Gauzbert. The laws said that I could carry a vote for each of my titles and since I held no fewer than four I easily outvoted those of my vassals-also four. As it was there was no need for concern-they were all fully behind my choice as Geoffrey had assured me they would be.
‘Remember my friend-keep your vassals on your side with kindness, generosity and whatever inducements you may and you will be assured that they will vote with you.’
They were heady days.
They were to become headier still for in January 881 the old King Ludwig, the German, bequeathed West Francia to his infant son, Herbert. Mayhap the old man knew that he was about to meet his maker for he died not three weeks later. We immediately, of course, met in Council with some of us urging an immediate strike, others caution. The more cautious elements looked to prevail upon the king and so we waited. Meantime the lords of West Francia, now ruled by a baby, rose in revolt that summer-it seemed, after all, that the wiser course had been to wait. All was set to preparedness and on the seventeenth of January 882, at last, King Louis of Aquitaine declared war to win back his kingdom.
Give me back my lands you German scweinhund!
That snow bound day all the principle magnates of the realm had gathered at Bellac; Bernard of Toulouse was there, swaggering as only the most powerful baron in the kingdom could. I flanked him-we had been friends ever since he had come into my family through my sister. Boudewijn of Flanders still languished in close captivity in the city-the instigator of one too many plots to unsettle the realm. Then there was my old uncle-now utterly dependable and talking in low tones to the Duke of Auvergne and the Prince Bishop Vivarais my old nemesis Gartzia who, as Marshal, was responsible for ordinances and commissions of array.
We all bowed low as the young King entered.
The Young King in Audience
‘Sit my Lords-sit. Gartzia-all is prepared?’
The Duke of Gascogne nodded smoothly. ‘Indeed all is prepared my lord king-we have summonsed, for the moment, only the levies from our crown lands-our estimation that we will not need to use those of our vassals since so many of the enemy are already tied down fighting West Frankish rebels.’
The king inclined his head in assent. ‘It is well done-I will take command of my army on the morrow...’
At this there was pandemonium-none had expected that the King, an untried lad of only nineteen summers, should personally lead his men into battle. Mine was the loudest shouting in opposition until the King waved a hand for silence, ‘think you, my lords, that the sovereign would sit behind his walls whilst others fight his battles for him? No! I will take command of my troops tomorrow. Of course on matters of strategy I will defer to older, wiser heads but a King’s place is at the head of his armies not cowering behind them.’
It was a stunning piece of bravado but we acquiesced as all were fast realising that the new man, that our liege had become, was made of very stern stuff indeed.
For my part, I set to preparing my own levies for the invasion of Brittany and by the early summer we were, once more, ready. Our forces set off, this time under my brother’s command, the newly appointed Count of Poitiers-a title I had been proud to bequeath him and he had been moved to accept. With Bishop Aubry gone, there was no battle commander more able within my lands and so he had assumed command of our army and marched north with just under fifteen hundred lances-there to engage and do battle with the heathens that called themselves the Northmen.
I lost my trusty Chancellor, Valeran of Bergerac that summer too-a grievous blow after he had done so much to advance my prospects.
He has done much to advance the prospects of my Duchies-God rest him!
It did, however, present me with an opportunity to reconcile my disaffected eldest son to my good graces. Of all the men in my demesnes he was as able a diplomat as any so I summonsed him to Saintes and invested him with the title of Chancellor of the Duchy of Aquitaine. It was a signal honour and one that he seemed utterly grateful for. Mayhap I have neglected him all these years, I had thought as he held me in an awkward embrace at the news. I had seen, in the corner of my eye, Geoffrey of Thouars looking on approvingly and that was when I had reckoned on making the right choice.
At the end of the year stunning tidings reached us at Bellac: the young king had won! We were once again the united realm of West Francia-the infant son of Ludwig was now merely the Duke of Valois and Count of Amiens and whilst the war continued against Ludwig’s successor in East Francia, Karlmann, for some pockets of land that held firm for him, the main brunt of the fighting was over.
All hail the King of the West Franks!
I remember bursting with pride at our protégé’s achievements and boasting to my wife, ‘think-if he can achieve all of this at only twenty-just imagine what we can encompass in the years to come!’
‘Bring those boots back to terra firma my lord’ she had replied laughing, ‘East Francia remains strong and its King, the old fox, Karlmann, as wily as ever. They call him “the wise” see you-he will not be so easy to defeat methinks.’
I had demurred but still-what a prodigy we had on our hands!
The war in Nantes continued for three more years-a time during which my son, the Chancellor lost his wife in childbirth and Louis defeated more recalcitrant lords-a time in which the troubling Norse raids increased with attacks in Mersan and Bruges. It was a time during which my wife fell pregnant again-God be praised and in which finally a letter arrived from my brother-it was the seventh of August 885:
To my esteemed and well beloved brother, Count of Nantes and Duke of Aquitaine
At last final victory! I have flushed the last of the Northmen from their hiding places and put the whole of the County under your dominion. It has not been easy for not only are the Norse a vicious and unruly lot but the Bretons that they rule are almost equally so-it has been three years of hard fighting.
I have pensioned off Condottiere Guifré-the Catalans are hardy fighters and their additions were much looked for and most well appreciated. He has said that he is at your service whenever you shall need him again.
I will, by your leave, remain in Nantes awhile as there is sedition and ferment in the air. I can use my office as Lord Marshal to suppress any incipient revolts that may arise.
It has been good to effect a part of the debt I owe you, both as my brother and as my sworn lord.
I am, as always, at your command
Gauzbert
I clutched the letter to my chest, tears of triumph falling freely. I was Count of Nantes. It was a start-but it would not be the end-of that I was very certain…
Ramnulf II’s Story: Conquest
It is August in the year of our lord 885: I am the Count of Nantes-another title to add to my many. I won this territory from the pagan Norse by conquest and have fulfilled a vow I made many years ago to my father that I would avenge him. Is that the end of my ambition you may well wonder dear chronicle? I think not! My avaricious appetite espies the rest of what was heretofore the Kingdom of Brittany and it wants more…
Vengeance is mine!
And we are once more the Kingdom of West Francia: my lord, King Louis, has prevailed over the Germans-just as I said he would.
My wife is pregnant with our third child. Our love remains undimmed.
My brother has become my most steadfast supporter and right arm-he is now the Count of Poitiers and Lord Marshal of the Duchy of Aquitaine. He has won me many victories over Breton, Gascon and pagan.
My younger sons Henri and Aldebert thrive-the elder, Henri has been sent to the household of my true friend Geoffrey of Thouars to be schooled in the ways of the world-mayhap he will also learn something of cunning whilst there. My ‘other son’ I have elevated to be my Chancellor and in that position he thrives-he will not succeed me, though-for certes.
My lands are now subject to elective succession law-it has turned many heads amongst my peers. I care not! I will protect with all my life the inheritances that I myself have been bequeathed.
And I have added the rich county of Bordeaux to my demesnes…but not its neighbour Agen that I also coveted-it was almost the cause of an irreparable split between my sovereign and myself.
But, as usual, I run away with myself. You will forgive me: it has been many years since I last picked up a quill and invested your pages with my memories-so much has happened. I will not bore you with detail, however, but instead focus on the three paramount events of the turbulent decade that has just passed, namely:
how I increased my demesnes.
The succession law changes and
the war with the Germans.
I started my own war against the Gascons in Bordeaux with a murder. It was a necessary one-at least that was what Geoffrey had advised me with some urgency.
‘You have a viper in your nest my lord’ he had said, his usually amiable face looking grim, ‘and it is none other than the boy Count of Angoulême. He-or his Council plot against you-would foster new rebellions in the Duchies...’
My mouth had tightened grimly-it would seem that my admonishments two years past had fallen on deaf ears. ‘And what would you have me do about this milksop Geoffrey?’
Thouars crossed the Solar in which we were sitting drinking some warmed mulled wine and put a proprietary hand on my shoulder, ‘the lad must be done away with Ramnulf…’
‘A murder? The boy has passed but fourteen summers.’
‘I would call it a judicious killing for the weal of the Duchy my lord-none will trace it back to you-my agents will see to that.’
I hesitated…was this what we had come to? It seemed so.
‘Make it happen my lord of Thouars-make it happen.’ My shoulders slumped but deep down I knew that it must be so: we were about to embark on a succession of wars with the newly appointed Lord Marshal of Aquitaine to return Bordeaux and Agen to our vassalage-I could not afford to be watching my back at the same time. These were not plans that I particularly wanted to share with my lady wife but I had a feeling that her head would win over her heart in the matter-as usual I was not wrong. The young Count was dead within the month under the most suspicious of circumstances-he was succeeded by his little brother, Roubaud, a stripling of only eight years and a lad much more compliant and less hostile to his liege lord. This was really a message for his implacable mother, the Dowager Countess Regelinda: if I could get to her eldest son then I would similarly not hesitate to strike down her one remaining boy, leaving her only a daughter and the County of Angoulême forfeit to me.
There had been some last ditched attempts to stop this war-my enemy, Duke Gartzia, had just been appointed by De Jouillat, the Marshal of Aquitaine and Master of the Horse. War between high lords of the realm would not do the Regent had spluttered to me. For my own part, I challenged him to produce any edict or law that forbade me to return what was rightfully mine to my dominion-he could not and the King remained steadfastly neutral. So in February of the year 878 news reached us that our army had marched under Mayor Liop and Gauzbert, boosted by the levies of our ally, Count Bernard III of Toulouse, my sister Adelaide’s puissant brother by law. It numbered over thirteen hundred spears. At the same time another of our allies: Count Foucher of Foix, my sister’s husband and Toulouse’s younger brother, led a smaller force of several hundred and drove into Armagnac. Of our third ally, my uncle of Limousin there was an undertaking to join us but no actual fighting men as yet.
Aye-I have some powerful friends
The next month our forces were joined in Armagnac and, numbering over two thousand, they engaged seven hundred of the enemy at a place called Lectoure, utterly shattering them. I remember awaiting every missive with dread anticipation such that my mood changed-I could not sleep and found myself lashing out at servants and even my lady wife. Even the tidings of victory could not seem to lift my mood nor the untimely death of Bishop Aubry-ever the warrior- of an infected wound whilst besieging one of Bordeaux’s citadels.
Leave me alone!
I appointed Bishop Jaspert of Saint Savin to his place on the Council-he was much more my man and would not oppose me as Aubry had. Our Pope, Nicholas, also died that summer-Honorius II succeeded to the Papal see. For my part I cared not a whit-all that mattered was how my armies fared against the Duke of Gascogne.
To war!
Crushed!
As the Christ Mass approached of that year I took it upon myself to spend that holiday period with Count Geoffrey in Thouars itself. I travelled, for once, with my whole family-it had been a difficult year, what with my mood and I was intent on making amends with Ximena-the two young boys would provide us a lightness and gaiety that had been missing in my life for some months. At our arrival at their well provisioned manor in the County Capitol Ximena was made welcome immediately by Geoffrey’s wife, Countess Eustachie, a plump, bright and bustling young woman who had already at twenty five, sired five children with her lord: four boys and a girl. The boys, two of whom were twins, soon took our two children into their charges, my wife busied herself with Eustachie, leaving me to catch up with my friend. For his part he was surprised that I had been so low of mood lately, ‘you are one of the foremost lords in the realm, second only after your ally Bernard of Toulouse and you have twice his revenues-why so glum my friend?’ He had said clapping me on the shoulder and ushering me towards the great hall where we were greeted by servants carrying large goblets of wine.
‘I know not Geoffrey-all should be well yet all I do is worry’ I said my voice betraying my frustration, ‘I am hoping that a yuletide spent with you and your family will lighten my mood. I have…I have also been praying to God earnestly to aid me in my ventures...’
I remember the look of astonishment on his face, ‘Jesu it must be bad if you do pray to the almighty for his assistance Ramnulf!’ He had then, as was his wont, laughed uproariously and led me to his private study. When we were alone he turned to me a huge smile upon his features, ‘mayhap this news will brighten your day your grace.’
I was intrigued, ‘do tell my lord of Thouars-do tell.’
‘Well it seems that your Chancellor has been right busy up north and has through study of their ancient laws and by use of some trickery managed to produce a claim for your right to overlordship of the county of Nantes!’
I was dumbfounded. ‘How?’
‘Never mind the how my old friend-it is the “whether” that you should be more concerned with-it will cost you: there are an army of lawyers that must be paid off if this is to stand.’
My answer was instantaneous: ‘I care not the cost Geoffrey-this is the county that still harbours my father’s killer as its Chief. I would pension my very soul to get at them.’
This is only the start Breton scum!
‘Well it will not cost as much as that-more like one hundred and fifty gold crown-our coffers can afford it Alphonso tells me.’
Now it was my turn to beam and arm in arm we returned to the main Hall laughing and giggling like schoolboys of half our age: it seemed my dreams of expansion were coming to fruition.
Early in the New Year of the year of our Lord 879, Bordeaux fell to my forces and my Liege at last became a man, though to me he was, of course, at sixteen, still a boy. He remained somewhat shy, a kind lad with an eye for food and drink but conviction in his God and a knack for the peddling of secrets. This latter was something that he had learned both from me and his erstwhile master, De Jouillat, whose fall from grace was as swift as it was spectacular, though not unexpected, for what further use had the King for the man who had kept him on such a tight leash throughout all these years?
But as surely as a storm follows the brightest of summer’s days did a quarrel arise between Louis and myself over the limits of his authority. I had been summonsed to an audience with the King in the Spring of 879-I thought that we would, as usual, pass the time alone, making our plans together-the young ruler and his most true ally and friend. I was surprised therefore when I was called to the audience chamber with many a courtier and most of the council present.
Louis looked grim-an ill omen of what was to come. ‘My Lord of Aquitaine you will be aware that our Council, of which you are an integral part, did pass a law only this month that gave me greater authority to wield in the execution of the King’s law and the King’s justice no?’
Meh!
I remembered the law-had abstained-was not interested in the King’s prerogatives-only my own. ‘I do my Lord King.’ I had responded smoothly, completely unaware of the thunderbolt that was about to strike.
‘Then you will also recall that in the provisions of that law was an undertaking from all my lords to not war upon each other…’
Hmmmm...
All I remember hearing, at that point, was the drumming of the rain upon the roof of the palace. To me it felt as if old time itself had stood still.
‘You are at war with another of my Councillors, the Duke of Gascogne, are you not sir?’
I remember I could feel my face reddening, ‘I only seek to return what is mine to my demesnes Sire-I seem to recall in times past that I had your full backing for such an undertaking-had-‘
The young man before me cut me off with a peremptory wave of his hand, ‘that was before I came of age my lord and before this law was passed!’
I stared as if surveying a new man before me-where was the simpering boy that I had patiently tutored? Mayhap I had done my work too well for of him there was none here. And then his features softened, looked upon me more kindly: ‘Ramnulf of Aquitaine I would not rob you of what is yours but the war must be ended-you understand? New laws and new ways must perforce be abided by-how else can I stamp my authority on the realm?’
I remember stiffly kneeling in the age-old gesture of obeisance ‘as you wish my king.’ I had then risen and stalked from the hall, the whispers and pointed looks of the court accompanying me like the furies from days of antiquity.
I'm going to cry!
And so the war had ended with Bordeaux accepting me as their new lord but Agen being retained by Gartzia-I was not happy and it was many months before I would treat with the King as a friend again. It was finally my long-suffering wife who admonished me to stop acting the child and speak to the lad. It was a difficult meeting that summer of 879 but I had accepted with as good a grace as I could why the boy had found the need to effect this show of strength with the second lord of his realm.
‘It served as a lesson to all Ramnulf-my barons would heed that if I could set strictures to you, my friend, that I would not hesitate to do so to others not as mindful of my weal-can you not see that?’
I had grudgingly nodded grumbling that at least he could have given me some warning.
‘But then all would have seen it for the mummer’s farce it would have been, my lord’ the lad said smiling.
I smiled back-it would seem that for the sake of our friendship we would forgive each other and moreover the lad was right though I was too proud to admit it to him then. The rest of our time that heady afternoon in August was taken up with me telling him how it was my intention to take Brittany county by county and build a power base for his realm (and me of course) in that benighted land that had always held itself aloof from the affairs of the Franks, its folk a wild and unruly peoples.
He had been enraptured by my plans…
I had also warned him of my intent to change the Ducal succession laws in Poitou and Aquitaine to an elective one. My sovereign had listened intently, had not gainsaid me and had finally given me leave to make these changes: if I was content then so would be, he had opined simply-and that was that.
We changed the laws in November of 880-a momentous occasion though not so for my namesake son, Ramnulf who was immediately disinherited in favour of my brother Gauzbert. The laws said that I could carry a vote for each of my titles and since I held no fewer than four I easily outvoted those of my vassals-also four. As it was there was no need for concern-they were all fully behind my choice as Geoffrey had assured me they would be.
‘Remember my friend-keep your vassals on your side with kindness, generosity and whatever inducements you may and you will be assured that they will vote with you.’
They were heady days.
They were to become headier still for in January 881 the old King Ludwig, the German, bequeathed West Francia to his infant son, Herbert. Mayhap the old man knew that he was about to meet his maker for he died not three weeks later. We immediately, of course, met in Council with some of us urging an immediate strike, others caution. The more cautious elements looked to prevail upon the king and so we waited. Meantime the lords of West Francia, now ruled by a baby, rose in revolt that summer-it seemed, after all, that the wiser course had been to wait. All was set to preparedness and on the seventeenth of January 882, at last, King Louis of Aquitaine declared war to win back his kingdom.
Give me back my lands you German scweinhund!
That snow bound day all the principle magnates of the realm had gathered at Bellac; Bernard of Toulouse was there, swaggering as only the most powerful baron in the kingdom could. I flanked him-we had been friends ever since he had come into my family through my sister. Boudewijn of Flanders still languished in close captivity in the city-the instigator of one too many plots to unsettle the realm. Then there was my old uncle-now utterly dependable and talking in low tones to the Duke of Auvergne and the Prince Bishop Vivarais my old nemesis Gartzia who, as Marshal, was responsible for ordinances and commissions of array.
We all bowed low as the young King entered.
The Young King in Audience
‘Sit my Lords-sit. Gartzia-all is prepared?’
The Duke of Gascogne nodded smoothly. ‘Indeed all is prepared my lord king-we have summonsed, for the moment, only the levies from our crown lands-our estimation that we will not need to use those of our vassals since so many of the enemy are already tied down fighting West Frankish rebels.’
The king inclined his head in assent. ‘It is well done-I will take command of my army on the morrow...’
At this there was pandemonium-none had expected that the King, an untried lad of only nineteen summers, should personally lead his men into battle. Mine was the loudest shouting in opposition until the King waved a hand for silence, ‘think you, my lords, that the sovereign would sit behind his walls whilst others fight his battles for him? No! I will take command of my troops tomorrow. Of course on matters of strategy I will defer to older, wiser heads but a King’s place is at the head of his armies not cowering behind them.’
It was a stunning piece of bravado but we acquiesced as all were fast realising that the new man, that our liege had become, was made of very stern stuff indeed.
For my part, I set to preparing my own levies for the invasion of Brittany and by the early summer we were, once more, ready. Our forces set off, this time under my brother’s command, the newly appointed Count of Poitiers-a title I had been proud to bequeath him and he had been moved to accept. With Bishop Aubry gone, there was no battle commander more able within my lands and so he had assumed command of our army and marched north with just under fifteen hundred lances-there to engage and do battle with the heathens that called themselves the Northmen.
I lost my trusty Chancellor, Valeran of Bergerac that summer too-a grievous blow after he had done so much to advance my prospects.
He has done much to advance the prospects of my Duchies-God rest him!
It did, however, present me with an opportunity to reconcile my disaffected eldest son to my good graces. Of all the men in my demesnes he was as able a diplomat as any so I summonsed him to Saintes and invested him with the title of Chancellor of the Duchy of Aquitaine. It was a signal honour and one that he seemed utterly grateful for. Mayhap I have neglected him all these years, I had thought as he held me in an awkward embrace at the news. I had seen, in the corner of my eye, Geoffrey of Thouars looking on approvingly and that was when I had reckoned on making the right choice.
At the end of the year stunning tidings reached us at Bellac: the young king had won! We were once again the united realm of West Francia-the infant son of Ludwig was now merely the Duke of Valois and Count of Amiens and whilst the war continued against Ludwig’s successor in East Francia, Karlmann, for some pockets of land that held firm for him, the main brunt of the fighting was over.
All hail the King of the West Franks!
I remember bursting with pride at our protégé’s achievements and boasting to my wife, ‘think-if he can achieve all of this at only twenty-just imagine what we can encompass in the years to come!’
‘Bring those boots back to terra firma my lord’ she had replied laughing, ‘East Francia remains strong and its King, the old fox, Karlmann, as wily as ever. They call him “the wise” see you-he will not be so easy to defeat methinks.’
I had demurred but still-what a prodigy we had on our hands!
The war in Nantes continued for three more years-a time during which my son, the Chancellor lost his wife in childbirth and Louis defeated more recalcitrant lords-a time in which the troubling Norse raids increased with attacks in Mersan and Bruges. It was a time during which my wife fell pregnant again-God be praised and in which finally a letter arrived from my brother-it was the seventh of August 885:
To my esteemed and well beloved brother, Count of Nantes and Duke of Aquitaine
At last final victory! I have flushed the last of the Northmen from their hiding places and put the whole of the County under your dominion. It has not been easy for not only are the Norse a vicious and unruly lot but the Bretons that they rule are almost equally so-it has been three years of hard fighting.
I have pensioned off Condottiere Guifré-the Catalans are hardy fighters and their additions were much looked for and most well appreciated. He has said that he is at your service whenever you shall need him again.
I will, by your leave, remain in Nantes awhile as there is sedition and ferment in the air. I can use my office as Lord Marshal to suppress any incipient revolts that may arise.
It has been good to effect a part of the debt I owe you, both as my brother and as my sworn lord.
I am, as always, at your command
Gauzbert
I clutched the letter to my chest, tears of triumph falling freely. I was Count of Nantes. It was a start-but it would not be the end-of that I was very certain…
Very nice update! I hope the next one comes out this quickly . I'm starting to worry about a division between the main character and the king. He might have taught him too well as he feared. I wouldn't be surprised to see the king push the duke too far. After all, the recent victory might make him overconfident of his abilities.
. I'm starting to worry about a division between the main character and the king. He might have taught him too well as he feared. I wouldn't be surprised to see the king push the duke too far. After all, the recent victory might make him overconfident of his abilities.
Very nice update! I hope the next one comes out this quickly
As always, nice to have your thoughts blklizard. Should have next one out in next 2 weeks too...be prepared for a surprise
As always, nice to have your thoughts blklizard. Should have next one out in next 2 weeks too...be prepared for a surprise
I hope the surprise is a double update
.
I hope the surprise is a double update
Haha-cheeky
Will try and get it out this weekend cos I want to get back to playing the game haha-a lot happens in only a few short years-watch this space!
Ok so it feels as though I've only got Blklizard reading this. I know there'll be a few lurkers but what are people thinking of this AAR?
Is it too dense? What do you think of the style? My worry is always that when the feedback dries out people are no longer invested in it
Do let me know. All constructive feedback gratefully welcomed
Is it too dense? What do you think of the style? My worry is always that when the feedback dries out people are no longer invested in it
Do let me know. All constructive feedback gratefully welcomed
Hey, I don't lurk I have commented. this AAR is very good so far I like your style, and I don't mind the density. In terms of this chapter, well done for taking Nantes. Now let us see if Loius gives Aqautaine to one of his sons and back and forth civil wars will occur next generation due to brotherly fueding
this AAR is very good so far I like your style, and I don't mind the density. In terms of this chapter, well done for taking Nantes. Now let us see if Loius gives Aqautaine to one of his sons and back and forth civil wars will occur next generation due to brotherly fueding
Just talking from my experience. There are always lurkers in AARs. They are supporting your work but the lack of comments can be discouraging.
For some, your updates might be too dense causing them to shy away. Different people prefer different styles so it's hard to comment on your style (I prefer it though but I cannot say for others). My suggestion is that, when there isn't feedback, don't be discouraged and keep going. That's normally the toughest part about writing. You will eventually find a good reader's base (at least that's what I tell myself).
Just take my Langobards AAR as an example, I once had lots of people following and it was really fun replying to comments. Then, people moved on and, for a long time, I had no one. I thought about giving it up but, in the end, I didn't. I have one dedicated reader now but I feel content. One reason I blame for this was that I had a long interval where I stopped updating. Similarly, you had a long break that could have the same impact. Some people just moved on and, after a while, they lost interest in the AAR completely due to maybe new commitments (RL or other AARs). The biggest difference between us is that you are in a very popular forum section where getting new readers is very viable while I'm stuck in a dead and forgotten forum section. So, Don't Give Up! Sorry for the rant
. Just wanted to share my experience with you and others that may see this about how discouraging it can be without feedback.
Here is one of the "lurkers" o And no, I don't see your writing too dense or other problems about it. I like what you have done so far.
And I'm eager to see what will happen next in your AAR so keep it coming.
o And no, I don't see your writing too dense or other problems about it. I like what you have done so far. And I'm eager to see what will happen next in your AAR so keep it coming.
Saxon125: Thanks very much for your support-really means a lot and glad that you are liking the style so far
Blklizard: a thoughtful response for which thanks. I am going to have a look at your Langobards AAR hehe-now that you mention it lol. What I take from this is that even if I have no responses I should continue...I think I will keep those sage words in mind-thanks again
Mithradates: Thanks to you too sir-always nice to get a new 'lurker' identify himself
Thanks for the encouragement guys-I will slightly change the style for the next instalment for reasons that will become obvious
Blklizard: a thoughtful response for which thanks. I am going to have a look at your Langobards AAR hehe-now that you mention it lol. What I take from this is that even if I have no responses I should continue...I think I will keep those sage words in mind-thanks again
Mithradates: Thanks to you too sir-always nice to get a new 'lurker' identify himself
Thanks for the encouragement guys-I will slightly change the style for the next instalment for reasons that will become obvious
I think the lack of feedback is less disinterest and more like the silence in the theater during a movie. At least it is for me.
The idea of a AAR from the perspective of a vassal with an eye for actually staying as a vassal for any length of time is interesting and rare. The positive side of that is the drama seems much more compelling since you are one of many big fish in a very small pond and every petty power play seems so much more threatening and important. The negative side is that it doesn't have an episodic structure in the way a lot of AARs do, so someone just jumping in on the last Chapter will lose a lot of the flavor of the story. That's similar to being too dense, but not quite the same thing.
The idea of a AAR from the perspective of a vassal with an eye for actually staying as a vassal for any length of time is interesting and rare. The positive side of that is the drama seems much more compelling since you are one of many big fish in a very small pond and every petty power play seems so much more threatening and important. The negative side is that it doesn't have an episodic structure in the way a lot of AARs do, so someone just jumping in on the last Chapter will lose a lot of the flavor of the story. That's similar to being too dense, but not quite the same thing.
Thanks Warlord-you weigh up the pros and cons well. Hell I have to say that I am really enjoying writig the story so as others here have pointed out I shouldn't be discouraged by the lack of responses at all
Chapter 6
Gauzbert’s Story: A Vale of Tears
15th June 888
My brother is dead. It is a warm, sultry evening and a letter has reached me in Nantes, written in desperate and sorrowful hand by his beloved wife, Ximena:
Sob!
To my well trusted brother by law
This missive reaches you from the depths of my despair for you have lost a dearly loved brother and ally and I my love’s true soul. We know not the cause of his passing but he was hale and hearty when he retired with me to bed on the night of the 8th June-was his normal jolly and spirited self. On the morrow I could not rouse him from a torpor and by noon he breathed his last.
No words can describe the pain that has speared into my very heart-what kind of God would take my lord at the prime of his health? I have been searching for some sort of reason and meaning in this capricious act and can find none..
Forgive me my lord-I ramble on. I have not been myself since I lost that poor unborn child a year ago-this last tiding has broken my spirit. Without my Ramnulf I know not how I will go on-he was my life, my all.
Anyway the Duchies of Aquitaine and Poitou are now yours-you must hie yourself back to Saintonge with all haste as the affairs of your lands must be settled, your brother buried and dispositions arranged thereof.
For myself Gauzbert, I reside, now in a vale of tears-I wish you Godspeed and hope that you can aspire to be half the Duke that your brother was.
Your Sister by Law
Ximena, Dowager Duchess of Aquitaine
It is dread news and has struck me and my small band of retainers like a thunderbolt from the blue. Ramnulf had been in good health, by the mass! I had paced the room like a caged lion before letting my sorrow and rage explode as one, tipping the table over and smashing the frail wooden stool with my boot until it was matchwood and myself spent.
I will not deny I shed some tears that lonely night as I contemplated our brotherly lives together-was only grateful to the almighty that I had turned my back on foolish ways and been joyfully restored to his embrace.
His directive to me upon investing me with the County of Poitiers was to be the best that I could be, trust a little less, be a little less wroth and listen to the good advice of those who were nearest around me. Very well: that means my wife: Countess Belleassez-a woman lowborn but who had dared dream high and had married my Uncle Geraud of Limousin, had been widowed in the year 881 and had come into my orbit like a flaming comet five years later. I had imagined that I was an accomplished weaver of webs but when I met her I realised that, in comparison I was like a puling child. We were drawn to each other, loved each other with the passion of kindred spirits and were married soon after. If my brother and the lords of Aquitaine and Poitou were scandalised none did whisper it-all had assented in good grace and wished me well. So we were joined and now I need her good counsel more than ever I have needed anyone in my life…
Not a woman to be trifled with I assure you!
The other directive was this chronicle-the realisation of our father’s strange dream-well if this is to be the fulfilment of my blood vow to Ramnulf-so be it. I am not a man of many words but will essay to write of what I can.
The next morning I ordered my men at arms to prepare for the journey south. I sent letters to my seventeen-year-old son from my first marriage, Jourdain, now residing in my seat at Poitiers, to escort his young sister Ermessinde to Saintes-I would meet them there and take the reins of office. To my wife I sent this:
To my well beloved wife
Never have I needed your guiding counsel as much as this. I am presuming that before you read this letter you will have received the dread news of my brother’s passing. I do not envisage that there will be any problems with the succession but get you and our little one to Saintes with all haste. Travel with Jourdain if you can-I know that you esteem him not but he is my eldest boy-and yes I know that I have been over-indulgent with the lad but as things do stand at the moment he is the heir to my Duchies of Aquitaine and Poitou as well as the five Counties that are mine…a sobering thought.
We will discuss all but my thoughts are that I will invest my brother Ébles with the County of Nantes-let us see if he is capable of holding it and keeping it subdued. For you, my dearest I will want you on my Council to replace Geoffrey of Thouars-he will not be best pleased, I know, but I have other plans for him as you will see.
It was Ramnulf’s wish that I hold his Duchies for his son, Henri and not split the demesnes in the age-old way of the Franks. I intend to honour that vow I made to him. The lad is being tutored by the Eunuch paladin that the fat merchant who visited Saintes this last year past left behind as a gift-a man more skilled in the martial ways I have not encountered. I esteem he would be a good man to succeed me as Marshal of Aquitaine.
This guy's military stats are off the scale (22): how fortuitous!
As you know his half brother, Ramnulf, was married off to the Princess of Asturias early this year and I hope that he will be content with the conjoining to such an illustrious name-he seems a simple soul-I trust that you will watch him closely, however: I would not want him to become a lightning rod for disaffected lords and malcontents.
This Matrona is a spirited wench-mayhap she will keep young Ramnulf in check...
The rest of the Council will be those friends who have served us well in ordering the affairs of Poitiers. Chief of those will be Raymond de Loudon, our Steward-I was part of the change in laws that my brother introduced to add to the tax burden of the burghers of our towns. He had boasted to me only some weeks past that the Duchies coffers were well stocked with gold-mayhap to the sum of well over four hundred gold crowns. If this is so then we are blessed indeed!
Tarry not beloved and ride hard to join me at Saintes-the game is afoot and we will play it with all the desire we can muster for Aquitaine is a hard mistress and will not be gainsaid.
Your dearly beloved husband
Gauzbert, Dux
However we did not take the south road from Nantes, the old Roman one that led direct to Saintes, instead crossing the mighty Loire at Nantes and taking the much smaller track that led almost directly due east towards Thouars. We would go via the hamlet of Cholet, slightly south and east before taking the road leading from Bressuire on a heading north and east thereafter. I reckoned the journey to be just over seventy miles: if we took it in a combination of fast trot and steady gallop we should arrive before sundown.
We rode hard all through that sun dappled June day-only resting in shade when the sun was at its hottest. We finally arrived at Count Geoffrey’s manor of Thouars just as the church bells were ringing for Vespers-we had made good time. I only hoped the Count was at home and hadn’t already departed for Saintes-Ramnulf had been, after all, his true friend.
It was with a sigh of relief that Geoffrey’s Steward, Giselbert, came to greet us-if the Steward was here that would indicate that so was his Count-they rarely travelled apart those two.
‘Giselbert well met sir!’ I called to him as I dismounted, saddle sore, sweaty and covered in dust from the ride, ‘is your Lord master at home? I come at a time of grievous tidings for our lands.’
Taking my horses reins the kindly Giselbert ushered me inside, out of the sun that was still high in the sky and still searing. ‘My lord is making plans to travel to Saintes but he had an inkling that your route to Saintes might bring you this way so he tarried awhile. Please let my men show you to a room where you can freshen up, your grace-I trust that you will stay the night?’
I gratefully acquiesced, noting his use of the ducal ‘your grace’. I was bone weary from the long ride and would welcome the layover. My men did not object either for they were as discomfited as me. After a cool bath and a refreshing draught of watered wine I made my way to the main hall to seek out Geoffrey of Thouars. This meeting could swing in either one of two directions I thought apprehensively.
I found him there flanked by his portly Countess, Eustachie. He looked desperately sad. On seeing me, nonetheless he mustered a wan smile and knelt, taking my hand in a gesture of obeisance, ‘My Duke.’
I waved him up and embraced him-I owed the man a debt of eternal gratitude for it had been his intercession that had changed my brothers mind about me after my ill-starred rebellion.
‘There will be time enough for ceremony when we get to Saintes my lord. For now, walk with me.’ I gave an imperceptible nod of acknowledgement to his lady wife and we took a walk to his nearby study. Once there and with refreshing drinks in hand I got straight to the point, ‘you will not serve as my master of secrets Geoffrey. My good wife will take up that function.’
His face changed expression not a jot though I espied a clenching of his jaw.
‘…Instead I would make you my Chancellor-you are well versed in the affairs of our Duchies and the realm and I would fain use that knowledge.’
At this he looked away briefly but before he did I could see his eyes were moist.
‘You do me a signal honour Gauzbert-your brother would have been proud.’ And at that, all formality aside we embraced again. We talked late into the night, long after the tallow candles had guttered down and the torches had been lit: we talked of my plans for Ramnulf’s sons, for my many demesnes, how we could get close to the King who, even now was locked in war with his cousin, Karlmann of East Francia and how we would work, together, to carry forward my brother’s legacy. That night we laughed and we cried as we remembered and planned and forged a new friendship in the fires of our shared grief: the dream of Aquitaine, Ramnulf's dream, would live on…
Maybe now I am Duke I should get my beard trimmed?
Gauzbert’s Story: A Vale of Tears
15th June 888
My brother is dead. It is a warm, sultry evening and a letter has reached me in Nantes, written in desperate and sorrowful hand by his beloved wife, Ximena:
Sob!
To my well trusted brother by law
This missive reaches you from the depths of my despair for you have lost a dearly loved brother and ally and I my love’s true soul. We know not the cause of his passing but he was hale and hearty when he retired with me to bed on the night of the 8th June-was his normal jolly and spirited self. On the morrow I could not rouse him from a torpor and by noon he breathed his last.
No words can describe the pain that has speared into my very heart-what kind of God would take my lord at the prime of his health? I have been searching for some sort of reason and meaning in this capricious act and can find none..
Forgive me my lord-I ramble on. I have not been myself since I lost that poor unborn child a year ago-this last tiding has broken my spirit. Without my Ramnulf I know not how I will go on-he was my life, my all.
Anyway the Duchies of Aquitaine and Poitou are now yours-you must hie yourself back to Saintonge with all haste as the affairs of your lands must be settled, your brother buried and dispositions arranged thereof.
For myself Gauzbert, I reside, now in a vale of tears-I wish you Godspeed and hope that you can aspire to be half the Duke that your brother was.
Your Sister by Law
Ximena, Dowager Duchess of Aquitaine
It is dread news and has struck me and my small band of retainers like a thunderbolt from the blue. Ramnulf had been in good health, by the mass! I had paced the room like a caged lion before letting my sorrow and rage explode as one, tipping the table over and smashing the frail wooden stool with my boot until it was matchwood and myself spent.
I will not deny I shed some tears that lonely night as I contemplated our brotherly lives together-was only grateful to the almighty that I had turned my back on foolish ways and been joyfully restored to his embrace.
His directive to me upon investing me with the County of Poitiers was to be the best that I could be, trust a little less, be a little less wroth and listen to the good advice of those who were nearest around me. Very well: that means my wife: Countess Belleassez-a woman lowborn but who had dared dream high and had married my Uncle Geraud of Limousin, had been widowed in the year 881 and had come into my orbit like a flaming comet five years later. I had imagined that I was an accomplished weaver of webs but when I met her I realised that, in comparison I was like a puling child. We were drawn to each other, loved each other with the passion of kindred spirits and were married soon after. If my brother and the lords of Aquitaine and Poitou were scandalised none did whisper it-all had assented in good grace and wished me well. So we were joined and now I need her good counsel more than ever I have needed anyone in my life…
Not a woman to be trifled with I assure you!
The other directive was this chronicle-the realisation of our father’s strange dream-well if this is to be the fulfilment of my blood vow to Ramnulf-so be it. I am not a man of many words but will essay to write of what I can.
The next morning I ordered my men at arms to prepare for the journey south. I sent letters to my seventeen-year-old son from my first marriage, Jourdain, now residing in my seat at Poitiers, to escort his young sister Ermessinde to Saintes-I would meet them there and take the reins of office. To my wife I sent this:
To my well beloved wife
Never have I needed your guiding counsel as much as this. I am presuming that before you read this letter you will have received the dread news of my brother’s passing. I do not envisage that there will be any problems with the succession but get you and our little one to Saintes with all haste. Travel with Jourdain if you can-I know that you esteem him not but he is my eldest boy-and yes I know that I have been over-indulgent with the lad but as things do stand at the moment he is the heir to my Duchies of Aquitaine and Poitou as well as the five Counties that are mine…a sobering thought.
We will discuss all but my thoughts are that I will invest my brother Ébles with the County of Nantes-let us see if he is capable of holding it and keeping it subdued. For you, my dearest I will want you on my Council to replace Geoffrey of Thouars-he will not be best pleased, I know, but I have other plans for him as you will see.
It was Ramnulf’s wish that I hold his Duchies for his son, Henri and not split the demesnes in the age-old way of the Franks. I intend to honour that vow I made to him. The lad is being tutored by the Eunuch paladin that the fat merchant who visited Saintes this last year past left behind as a gift-a man more skilled in the martial ways I have not encountered. I esteem he would be a good man to succeed me as Marshal of Aquitaine.
This guy's military stats are off the scale (22): how fortuitous!
As you know his half brother, Ramnulf, was married off to the Princess of Asturias early this year and I hope that he will be content with the conjoining to such an illustrious name-he seems a simple soul-I trust that you will watch him closely, however: I would not want him to become a lightning rod for disaffected lords and malcontents.
This Matrona is a spirited wench-mayhap she will keep young Ramnulf in check...
The rest of the Council will be those friends who have served us well in ordering the affairs of Poitiers. Chief of those will be Raymond de Loudon, our Steward-I was part of the change in laws that my brother introduced to add to the tax burden of the burghers of our towns. He had boasted to me only some weeks past that the Duchies coffers were well stocked with gold-mayhap to the sum of well over four hundred gold crowns. If this is so then we are blessed indeed!
Tarry not beloved and ride hard to join me at Saintes-the game is afoot and we will play it with all the desire we can muster for Aquitaine is a hard mistress and will not be gainsaid.
Your dearly beloved husband
Gauzbert, Dux
However we did not take the south road from Nantes, the old Roman one that led direct to Saintes, instead crossing the mighty Loire at Nantes and taking the much smaller track that led almost directly due east towards Thouars. We would go via the hamlet of Cholet, slightly south and east before taking the road leading from Bressuire on a heading north and east thereafter. I reckoned the journey to be just over seventy miles: if we took it in a combination of fast trot and steady gallop we should arrive before sundown.
We rode hard all through that sun dappled June day-only resting in shade when the sun was at its hottest. We finally arrived at Count Geoffrey’s manor of Thouars just as the church bells were ringing for Vespers-we had made good time. I only hoped the Count was at home and hadn’t already departed for Saintes-Ramnulf had been, after all, his true friend.
It was with a sigh of relief that Geoffrey’s Steward, Giselbert, came to greet us-if the Steward was here that would indicate that so was his Count-they rarely travelled apart those two.
‘Giselbert well met sir!’ I called to him as I dismounted, saddle sore, sweaty and covered in dust from the ride, ‘is your Lord master at home? I come at a time of grievous tidings for our lands.’
Taking my horses reins the kindly Giselbert ushered me inside, out of the sun that was still high in the sky and still searing. ‘My lord is making plans to travel to Saintes but he had an inkling that your route to Saintes might bring you this way so he tarried awhile. Please let my men show you to a room where you can freshen up, your grace-I trust that you will stay the night?’
I gratefully acquiesced, noting his use of the ducal ‘your grace’. I was bone weary from the long ride and would welcome the layover. My men did not object either for they were as discomfited as me. After a cool bath and a refreshing draught of watered wine I made my way to the main hall to seek out Geoffrey of Thouars. This meeting could swing in either one of two directions I thought apprehensively.
I found him there flanked by his portly Countess, Eustachie. He looked desperately sad. On seeing me, nonetheless he mustered a wan smile and knelt, taking my hand in a gesture of obeisance, ‘My Duke.’
I waved him up and embraced him-I owed the man a debt of eternal gratitude for it had been his intercession that had changed my brothers mind about me after my ill-starred rebellion.
‘There will be time enough for ceremony when we get to Saintes my lord. For now, walk with me.’ I gave an imperceptible nod of acknowledgement to his lady wife and we took a walk to his nearby study. Once there and with refreshing drinks in hand I got straight to the point, ‘you will not serve as my master of secrets Geoffrey. My good wife will take up that function.’
His face changed expression not a jot though I espied a clenching of his jaw.
‘…Instead I would make you my Chancellor-you are well versed in the affairs of our Duchies and the realm and I would fain use that knowledge.’
At this he looked away briefly but before he did I could see his eyes were moist.
‘You do me a signal honour Gauzbert-your brother would have been proud.’ And at that, all formality aside we embraced again. We talked late into the night, long after the tallow candles had guttered down and the torches had been lit: we talked of my plans for Ramnulf’s sons, for my many demesnes, how we could get close to the King who, even now was locked in war with his cousin, Karlmann of East Francia and how we would work, together, to carry forward my brother’s legacy. That night we laughed and we cried as we remembered and planned and forged a new friendship in the fires of our shared grief: the dream of Aquitaine, Ramnulf's dream, would live on…
Maybe now I am Duke I should get my beard trimmed?
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First off, I approve of the use of the word 'poltroon'. Marking down for future reference.
You have had a superb few updates here, Asantahene! I fully approve, particularly that wonderful cliffhanger at the end of Chapter 3. The cliffhanger is still an art form I'm not particularly good at and one which I know better than to try too often, so I'm really appreciative to see it done judiciously and without being overblown. Before his end, it was very good to see our Ramnulf building new bridges with his young and vulnerable liege - have to wonder what he had brewing in that tricksy mind of his - as well as mending them with his brother. Very well-illustrated, these scenes in and around your court.
Chapter 5 seems a bit of a departure in tone, at least to start with. The first part comes off a lot more casual - even though it's still first-person narrative, it almost feels SOC or diary-esque, very different from the antiquarian usage you used in prior chapters. By the end of the chapter, though, your normal usage had come back and I couldn't help but keep reading to the end. And Chapter 6 - yeah, that came straight out of left field! Gauzbert seems to have done a good job at beginning to pick up the pieces. Couple of new characters to look forward to their contributions. It's all very well that your court seems to get along with each other fairly well - some friction of course, but they seem to take it in stride like good Frenchmen.
But yes, Gauzbert's whiskers could use a bit of a trim... or maybe let them grow out after that bleach-job...
Wonderful writing so far, Asantahene! Keep it up!
You have had a superb few updates here, Asantahene! I fully approve, particularly that wonderful cliffhanger at the end of Chapter 3. The cliffhanger is still an art form I'm not particularly good at and one which I know better than to try too often, so I'm really appreciative to see it done judiciously and without being overblown. Before his end, it was very good to see our Ramnulf building new bridges with his young and vulnerable liege - have to wonder what he had brewing in that tricksy mind of his - as well as mending them with his brother. Very well-illustrated, these scenes in and around your court.
Chapter 5 seems a bit of a departure in tone, at least to start with. The first part comes off a lot more casual - even though it's still first-person narrative, it almost feels SOC or diary-esque, very different from the antiquarian usage you used in prior chapters. By the end of the chapter, though, your normal usage had come back and I couldn't help but keep reading to the end. And Chapter 6 - yeah, that came straight out of left field! Gauzbert seems to have done a good job at beginning to pick up the pieces. Couple of new characters to look forward to their contributions. It's all very well that your court seems to get along with each other fairly well - some friction of course, but they seem to take it in stride like good Frenchmen.
But yes, Gauzbert's whiskers could use a bit of a trim... or maybe let them grow out after that bleach-job...
Wonderful writing so far, Asantahene! Keep it up!
First off, my apologies for not being around lately. I've had other things on my plate to deal with.
It's certainly sad to see Ramnulf go so suddenly like that, especially when it seemed he was right at the height of his power. Let's hope the prodigal brother-turned-duke Gauzbert can carry on his legacy and take Aquitaine to new heights as well!
(And yes, that beard has to go. It looks a bit like he ripped out a bit of carpet and glued it to his chin ).
It's certainly sad to see Ramnulf go so suddenly like that, especially when it seemed he was right at the height of his power. Let's hope the prodigal brother-turned-duke Gauzbert can carry on his legacy and take Aquitaine to new heights as well!
(And yes, that beard has to go. It looks a bit like he ripped out a bit of carpet and glued it to his chin
).