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University of Strathclyde Lecture Theatre 1B

Glasgow

March 16th 2014

Professor Harry Stirling


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‘So why “The Blessed”? What on earth would prompt chroniclers to attach such an epithet to this particular King in the autumn years of his reign?’ The Professor paused, as he did, for effect-his eyes cast upwards behind his old-fashioned horned rimmed glasses. An old man with wispy thinning grey hair-he was what you might imagine of an old eccentric. His ability to enthuse and inspire his young charges in the histories that he taught them, however, was total.

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‘Come on!’ He suddenly rapped making the students jump, then smile to themselves. ‘When he died in August 1149 he was 57-not a bad old age. Was it this? Or his twenty five year reign-one of the longest in Scots history? But he left a Kingdom still unquiet, heresies growing in Wales and the Isles and Dyfed and Thomond controlled by other realms-“blessed”! Really?’

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A hand went up tentatively:

‘Lauren-you’re one of my brighter ones-yes?’

The girl was pretty, petite with bright red hair,’ I think it was probably less to do with his achievements as King and more to do with his family?’ She offered.

‘Go on…’

‘Well nine kids is going some even by the standards of that age wouldn’t you say Professor? Five sons and four daughters. Maybe he, more than any other Scottish King, really could be credited with building a dynasty..’

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‘Some would call so many sons a curse rather than a blessing Lauren-the rest of you are far too QUIET! Come on! Let’s hear you. Yes Ewan-what say you?’

A plump, thin faced lad piped up ‘Let’s talk about my namesake Professor. Let’s be honest any of Laurence’s three eldest sons had the ability to contest the throne at the time of his death but isn’t it interesting that after a decade and more of the King supporting his eldest son, Robert, he suddenly swung in behind his own Lords to promote his second born’s claim-and this not long before he died. In that he was truly blessed!’

This last caused a ripple of mirth from the students-the lively to and fro was one of the main reasons that these lectures were so much fun.

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Harry Stirling smiled also, ‘It is very true that his sudden change of heart was opportune in the extreme-many have surmised that had the King not switched and nominated his much more able second son, Ewan, that civil war on his death would have been inevitable. And as you should all know it was not that Prince Robert was not able-it was just his younger sibling was much more able!’

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He was striding around the lectern area, commanding his space like an actor, ‘what do the records tell us-you sir! Ahmed!’

‘Umm…’

‘Start at the Marianus Scotus boy! Start at the Marianus Scotus!’

The pretty young Asian youth reached for his iPad and connected to the relevant section:

‘…if of this slight by his father the King there was any effect Duke Robert of Albany showed none of it. At the old King’s passing he respectfully mourned with his siblings then without wroth accepted the decision of the Electors of Scotland, Ireland and Wales to anoint his brother Ewan, Earl of Ross as King of the three Kingdoms…’ A pause then ‘I have to say that if that was me robbed of my inheritance I don’t think I would have taken it lying down!’

‘But it wasn’t a matter of inheritance was it now ‘Med!’ interjected the student sat next to him ‘that was the beauty of Elective succession!’

‘Ok-agreed Kate but I can’t think that Albany would have been pleased as he had been groomed for this all his life’ Stirling countered-but as you say ‘Med-no mention in Marianus Scotus of any ill will and indeed the reign of King Ewan points to a brother loyal in the extreme…throughout his reign.’

The Professor surveyed his students with a downturned smile ’you are all way off the mark! What reason might a King be called blessed? Laurence was no saint-he had lovers, sired at least one bastard-did he promote the church-think?’

‘Was it persuading his Marshall to renounce the Waldensian heresy Harry?’ Shouted Lauren boldly.

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‘Aha! You are getting closer-much closer lass! That’s not quite it but almost.’

Hands now shot up all over the theatre

‘Ryan! Tell us!’ The professor was enjoying himself-his students too.

The thin red haired lad now himself grinning broadly first read from his own tablet ‘It says here in A History of Scotland that in the years 1141 to 1143 Laurence put down at least two large rebellions inspired by the same Waldensian heresy-one in Gwent and one on the Isle of Man and it was after these that he became known as “Blessed”’

With a whoop and a fist pump the lecturer raised his baton pointing it towards the triumphant Ryan-‘Got it lad! Consider yourself granted a free miss of any one of my remaining lectures! Yes it was holy church that saw Waldensian principles gaining purchase all over Wales and the Isle of Man but also saw Laurence zealously putting down the revolts-both of over six thousand…’

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‘And let’s not forget Professor what Marianus Scotus tells us of his rescue by one of his courtiers, Duncan, from what is described as a great bear! That was in 1142 I believe.’

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‘You have the right of it son. If you put together his achievements in beating off two major wars of independence, those of Myfanwy and Malmure plus his prodigious achievements in siring nine children over two wives (and a mistress), his recapture of the remainder of Wales and his putting down of the heretical rebellions-if you put all these together along with the incident with the bear then you have indeed a King who, by those standards, was blessed indeed!’

He stopped to catch his breath-was no longer young though these lectures made him feel so.

‘But what does this really tell us of his character?’ Asked another of the girls: bespectacled Anne, also a Psychology Major and always interested in the personality behind the history.

‘Good question Anne-well you tell me.’

Anne was shy and didn’t really like to be put on the spot but she did rise to the occasion when called upon, ‘well we know that he genuinely loved his children/ My view is that robbing his eldest of what he must have considered his birthright would genuinely have pained him. He died not long after making that switch-how do we know that the tragedy of that wasn’t what finished him off-there was no long illness was there? Or immediate signal he was on his way out-not sure I would have been able to live with the hurt looks that Albany would inevitably have directed towards him…’

‘Brilliant Anne!’ The professor himself was now chuckling. I have here some text from an old manuscript. Many say that it was a contemporary courtier Alan Mac Crinic who wrote. He says: though the old king was much minded to turn his attentions to expansion, maybe into Brittany , maybe to take De Jure lands such as Devon from the still warring English, the last months of his life were wholly granted to keeping the peace between his sons Albany and Ross. Many in the court opined that it was these great efforts that exhausted him to the expiration of his life…

‘So there it is boys and girls! A king who came to the throne with the promise to his own father that he would reunite the Kingdoms, did that but I am pretty sure that he would have wanted to do more-maybe conquer Celtic Brittany or encroach into England. Hamstrung as he was by lack of funds to muster the necessary forces for this he ended up being a wholly inward looking King…maybe his second born son, the new King Ewan I would change things-watch this space.’

And with that the lecturer threw up the last slide:

King Laurence I’s Achievements:

• Reigned 25 years
• 9 Children (4 legitimate sons)
• 2 Wives (Queens Forflissa and Alienor)
• Regained the Kingdom of Wales including Devon and Cornwall for Scotland (1124)
• Held the 3 Kingdoms together for 25 years despite 2 major wars of Independence in Wales and Ireland
• (Belatedly) threw his weight behind the election of his ‘best’ son, Ewan of Ross (later King Ewan I)
• Put down 2 major Waldensian rebellions (Gwent 1141 and Man 1142)
• Developed 1st Scots Standing Army of 2000 troops including 100 Heavy Cavalry & Schiltroms

And on down side:

• Too inward looking
• No conquest of foreign lands
• Joined Pope Hilarius II’s Crusade to free Jerusalem 1126 but didn’t send any troops
• No major Town, University or castle building within his Demesne as most funds used on fighting his internal wars
Lost counties, through inheritance, of Thomond in Ireland, Dyfed in Wales and Devon in England by time of death in 1149. His son Ewan I quickly regained Thomond and Dyfed


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The known World c1149
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Sometimes not losing is winning. He did well.
 
Sometimes not losing is winning. He did well.

Thanks Idhrendur. I'm hoping Ewan's reign will be a bit more adventurous...part of problem is the lack of troops Scotland/Ireland/Wales can muster: at best 12k which means I have to rely on mercs and money to generate armies capable of doing things like assaulting castles, crusading etc. just not sure how to overcome that obstacle...
 
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a good reign consolidation is the harder part of empire building.

Thanks Van. Think I'm going to do some crusading. Economy seems to be doing well so I'm also going to keep an eye on goings on in Brittany and start to fabricate some claims there too. I've been keeping an eye on the endless internecine strife in England but I'm wary of launching in there because of the size of the armies they can muster. Will probably have a nibble at Devon though which is De Jure part of Duchy of Cornwall

Think things are going to get exciting after many years of consolidation. Watch this space ;)
 
Thanks Van. Think I'm going to do some crusading. Economy seems to be doing well so I'm also going to keep an eye on goings on in Brittany and start to fabricate some claims there too. I've been keeping an eye on the endless internecine strife in England but I'm wary of launching in there because of the size of the armies they can muster. Will probably have a nibble at Devon though which is De Jure part of Duchy of Cornwall

Think things are going to get exciting after many years of consolidation. Watch this space ;)

No worries brosef, do what you need to do...

you going to take this into eu4?
 
No worries brosef, do what you need to do...

you going to take this into eu4?

Plenty of CK gameplay to go yet but I don't think so. I used to love EU but the games are very different in tone and feel and I'm not sure I want to purchase it now I've become acquainted with CK's delights :D

Ps: the crusade went well hehehe
 
Nice job with Laurence! Also: Laurence and Lauren? ;) Nice format for this update.
 
Nice job with Laurence! Also: Laurence and Lauren? ;) Nice format for this update.

Thanks GUG-always good to know that you're still reading this-yes re the Lauren and Laurence haha-though that was purely accidental lol-think I just had Laurence on my mind haha

Just wait until you see what his successor does-have the day off Monday so think I will post 1 or 2 updates
 
Gardens of Royal Palace of Scone, Gowrie

18th June 1161


The two high-born lords walked arm in arm through the sun dappled gardens of the royal palace, several guards clad in royal livery followed at a respectful pace behind indicating that both were of princely blood. On closer inspection it could be seen that these were brothers so similar in looks were they-not identical but strong family features: slender yet wiry physique, a strong aquiline nose but it was the piercing slate grey eyes that were the hallmark of Mac Ailpins through the ages that were most striking. And yet in one of the brothers-for such they must be-they were kind where in the other’s they were of a harder hue. One who was dressed royally was wearing a dark blue tunic, trimmed in gold-a mantle in Scots saffron hung loosely from his shoulders. The other seemed more martial, wearing a mail shirt underneath his own mantle and over it a tunic emblazoned with the Red Hand of Ulster denoting the Duchy of that great Irish province.

Still from the 1961 film 'Ewan the Great'
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The one who wore a simple gold circlet finished with double knot up and down at the front was laughing, though without much humour. ‘By God Tom-if I hear any more of this Waldensian nonsense I will scream-why have I spent years with my Chaplains, barons and clergy trying to root it out only for it to appear at the heart of my family-Rob’s second son Lachlan you say?’

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‘I fear so brother-and of course he holds the Lordship of the Isles so we must be careful. His youngest Henry is similarly hostile towards you but luckily holds neither lands nor titles. Robert would be turning in his grave-may God Assoil him-‘

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‘Rob may well have brought them up to feel that way Tom-though he may never have complained that I was elected in his stead, for certes he can’t have been pleased about it! You were closer to him than I-did he ever say anything to you?’

Prince Thomas, Duke of Ulster, Marshall of Scotland and Earl of Caithness paused awhile, shook his head and then continued on his way with his brother, the King. Only three years separated them but they were very close and always had been from earliest childhood. Now at forty-one and forty-four respectively it was time, perhaps, to be more reflective about the vagaries of family ties and the dynasty that they were both continuing to grow.

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‘And what of your own son Sire?’ Thomas asked carefully-it was no secret at court that Dugald, Ewan’s only son to his first wife, Anderquina of Castile, had not exactly turned out as he might have wanted.

If he was troubled speaking about his rather feckless eldest it did not show. ‘Dugald is probably in the best place for him right now-far away from these realms in Lower Lorraine. He seems happy-has fathered three children and is mentoring his eldest son, the current Duke of Lorraine-though what the nobles there make of his marrying a lowborn commoner after his wife’s death is anyone’s guess…’

‘He is probably taking after his esteemed father Ewan.’ Tom responded smiling gently-it was a jape which had it come from anyone else would have aroused the famous Mac Ailpin anger: Ewan had lost his first wife, Anderquina, very young almost twenty years previously-she had bequeathed him Dugald-a child so pale and anaemic in all respects that it had not been a hard decision for it to be let known that his brother would succeed him at this stage. His second wife, a Scots noblewoman, Grouch Mac Malmure, House of the ancient Earls of Atholl, had provided but one daughter, Ælflæd, and then herself passed of pneumonia only three years previously-he was now on his second Spanish and third wife overall: Tegridia of Castile. His uxoriousness aroused whispers in some quarters but what was a king to do? He needed to be married and besides marriages brought useful dynastic and political alliances-they weren’t a possibility they were imperative.

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‘Very funny brother-I have to say that I do miss Grouch-she was a lovely woman in all respects-you remember: kind, just, temperate-we were never really a love match but she kept me grounded. My new Spanish wife-well she does just fine too-she is young and eager if you know what I mean?’ This brought a wink and an eruption of very undignified braying on the part of both men who just for an instance forgot all the cares of state and were just boys again.

‘Anyways you’re a fine one to talk Tom!’ The king said between hearty guffaws, ‘we all know of your lustiness-you seem to take after our forbears in that respect!’

‘Aye touché brother’ Thomas responded wryly ‘let’s change the subject’ He did not wish to be reminded of his indiscretions and certainly not by his rather chaste older sibling.

After this moment of levity they moved on slowly, drinking in the late morning sun. Verdant Beech trees and flowing Willows had been planted in these parts of the expansive gardens-Thomas had always loved the palace at Scone, regretted that he got to spend so little time here amongst the environs of his earlier boyhood-before education in one of the Great Lords households beckoned: in his case Duke Adam of Munster his Uncle on his mother’s side. He had been schooled well; strictly but fairly by the mood-laden magnate. But Munster had never really been pleased with his lot as a mere Duke and in 1152, a mere three years after the accession of Thomas’s older brother, he stirred up half of Ireland to a rebellion that was ostensibly about lowering Ewan’s royal authority.

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The fact that at the time Ewan’s own mentor and Guardian, the Duke of Connacht was crushing a revolt in Shetland and that the Swedish Duke of Orkney had also raised his levies against the King was telling at the time. All the uprisings had been defeated in time, his uncle and fellow rebel, Kenneth of Ulster stripped of their Duchies, but it had taken almost four years and had damn near bankrupted the realms…still he had ended up with a Duchy for his own martial efforts in helping snuff out the fires of sedition in Ireland-he had ever been the King’s right hand since being appointed Scotland’s Lord Marshall. Meanwhile his uncle was now having to content himself with just being the Earl of Carrick…and Desmond...and Ormond. He was over-powerful but cowed for now.

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‘Brother you are off day-dreaming again!’ The King was saying ‘never mind-right glad I am that your sons are rather more amenable to my royal personage than Rob’s’ At this they both laughed again until Ewan broke in, more serious now, ‘You will need to show some presence in the Isles Tom-show Lachlan the error of his ways until I can get Bishop Gilpatrick away from trying and burning heretics in Teviotdale and up to the Isles. Accursed heresy-what does this Waldensian nonsense stand for anyway?’

‘They value poverty and deny purgatory amongst other things my Liege-madness!’

‘But sadly a madness that first seems to take root amongst the peasant masses always trying to better their lot Tom. In truth I can see some of the sense in their teachings..’

‘You can?’ Ulster stopped suddenly-shocked.

‘I can brother dearest-you know that I have dabbled with certain-ahem, mystical teachings. There is more to belief than the strict orthodoxy of Catholic canon you know.’

‘Then why stamp it out? Why not embrace it Ewan-though I must say that your words border on the heretical?’ Thomas said crossing himself without thinking.

‘You know well the answer to that Tom-it would not do to have the Holy Father on the other side would it? I have just approved a law in Wales giving the Holy See full authority for investiture of bishops as we have in Scotland and Ireland. No, I have enough troubles keeping my fractious barons in line without adding Pope Agapetus to the mix!’

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Thomas whistled quietly, ‘I see. Well your spymaster tells me that the realm is relatively quiescent-the only stirrings are coming mainly from our own family Ewan-nothing that we can’t handle though.’

‘Your loyalty is a great help Tom-as are that of the rest of the Council-after twelve years ruling it is truly affirming to have such firm support from all. That said I do sometimes wonder whether we could not do better than Mayor Walter of Perth-his efforts to extract tithes here in Gowrie seem to be coming to naught…’

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They had reached a shaded enclosure with some ornate benches-Ewan bade his brother sit and join him. They looked out over a small man-made lake fringed by gently rolling grassland, the lawns freshly cut in a perfect picture of a beautiful Scots summer.

‘I thought a bit of shade might do Tom given your propensity for wearing a mail shirt wherever you are-Gods wounds man-we have the Royal Guard!’ And a dig in the ribs followed this gentle mocking.

‘It is important to look the part Sire’ was Thomas’s rather stiff rejoinder.

‘I jest man I jest! Gods blood sir-you are ever and have always been my strong right hand! Now look you-we have more pressing matters to discuss. How many, think you, might you be able to muster with a full summons of all our vassals levies?’

Thomas was instantly intrigued, ‘well your recent law requiring all your lords to provide their full power has swelled the numbers. Whether they send them all is, of course, dependent on how much esteem they hold you in. At the moment you are very well respected brother-that tourney that you put on two years ago harmed you none so much. You also have your retinue, which numbers two thousand. Add to that those from your own demesne and we are talking maybe fifteen, sixteen thousand at a push.’

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Ewan’s face clouded momentarily, ‘Ah the great tournament…my one regret: that Ewan of Connacht didn’t live to see it-he would have been proud. I was always closest to him you know Tom-closer than Papa…’ The king looked away as painful memories came to mind.

Thomas, for his part, squeezed his brothers arm briefly, ‘I know it-and this business with his son-murdered not long after-awful!’

‘Truly-it would seem that some of the Irish nobles know nothing of keeping the King’s peace-I knew the lad well-there will be payment in full measure whether now or later that I do promise!’ Ewan spat fiercely-he had been outraged at the brazen murder of the young Duke of Connacht-only twenty years of age-done away with by Irish conspirators who even now were being hunted by his own spymaster’s network.

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They had traversed a full circuit and on the King’s behest were now headed back towards the main palace buildings-there were affairs of state to attend to-his secretary would, no doubt, be fretting at this lengthy absence. Off in the Palace’s cloisters they could already hear the church bells ringing sext-it was already noon.

The King had not explained why he suddenly wanted to know of the total levies of the Kingdom and just as Thomas was about to enquire they saw a group appear from the direction of the courtyard. From where they were Thomas, with his soldiers eye could just make out the cognizance of a white lion rampant against scarlet background on the tunic of the man who was hurrying towards them: the Duke of Leinster, Scotland’s Chancellor!

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‘Well met Radulf Dunbar!’ The King greeted him affably, ‘have you come to tell me of England’s continuing woes or your sterling efforts in getting the former rebel Magnus of Orkney to love me again?’

Bowing low the Duke, a stalwart of Ewan’s administration and excellent Chancellor gathered his breath before being raised up. He had a gleam in his eye

‘Sire I know you instructed me to look into whether we could advance any claims on English lands, the de jure claim that Tydy of Cornwall has on Devon notwithstanding. Sire my news is of much greater import.’

‘Out with it man!’ This from the ever-impatient Duke of Ulster. Unfazed, Radulf acknowledged the King’s brother with a nod, ‘News hotfoot from Italy my liege: The Pope has called for a crusade against the wicked Slavic pagans in Poland!’

Thomas was agape-a crusade so close to home-the thought was replete with possibility. He looked at his brother whose eyes were shining with religious zeal.

‘God has answered my prayers! Brother, this is why I was asking you about our levy size-it is my fervent wish to answer the Holy father’s call-we will to crusade my lords-DEUS VULT!’

And gripped with the spirit of the moment the two Dukes and all the guards were on their knees taking their cue from their King,

‘DEUS VULT!’ Came the cry from all their mouths as they looked up to heaven, ‘DEUS VULT!’

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After so many people found themselves in prison ,it is now time for some real enemies to be crushed :p
 
Deus Vult!
 
Deus Vult!
Yes indeed!

I have a great post to write about the actual Crusade itself

Mike the Knight: you are absolutely right-it is a real relief to turn from internal matters to external ones and all endorsed by the Holy Father: Deus Vult! :laugh:
 
22nd May 1162

Before the walls of the Polish City of Poznan

Scots Army


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‘’tis an ominous undertaking my liege.’ This from one of his Household

‘Aye tis true my King-you should not be in the van for this assault-we should stand off and come in on the 2nd wave.’ Opined Baron Morien of Errol. This paladin was one of the King’s staunchest friends and allies-had been with him through thick and thin and was no mean siege warrior. When he talked men listened.

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‘How many have they?’ Ewan asked his jaw set in a determined mien.

‘Maybe two thousand My Lord King’ one of his knights ventured, ‘possibly as little as fifteen hundred.’

Ewan assessed the personnel gathered in his pavilion. These were the brightest and best that Scotland, Ireland and Wales had to offer-like moths drawn to a flame they had followed their King on this great adventure-this crusade to rid Europe of the pagan scourge. Ewan felt a pang of pride-they had been drawn to him, his natural way with his courtiers and his barons had endeared the royal house to its nobility and also to the common man-this was a King who above all who had gone before was able to influence both commoner and baron, knight and soldier. Some had begun to already rank his esteem alongside that of the two greatest of Scottish Monarchs: Kenneth I and Bethoc the Great.

‘What says my Battle Commander?’ Ewan asked of the heavily moustachioed Cornish Noble, Duke Tydy-his most able general and leader of the Van

‘We have ten times their number my lord-why wait?’ Was the typically terse response from the stalwart. ‘The only question is where you will place yourself Sire…’

The challenge hung in the air for a moment. Whatever their overwhelming superiority in numbers all knew that the initial assault on the mighty walls would be costly indeed as the defenders would unleash upon the attackers burning oil, arrows, rocks and all manner of trials to make their approach expensive in the extreme. No-there were two options: siege them out for many months or assault and suffer the casualties.

‘We will be at the fore my Lord Duke-the king answered the challenge, ‘I may not be the most mettlesome of warriors but let no man say that this king lacks for courage.’ And with that the assembled soldiers burst into spontaneous cheers,

‘Mac Ailpin! Mac Ailpin!’

Two hours later as Ewan approached the walls under cover of a wall of shields he might well have rued his boldness especially when one of the knights in front had his head staved in by a massive boulder cast from above. Shields held aloft were enough to deflect some of the lighter rocks but when heavier ones were cast they invariably broke the limbs of the defenders below. As they inched forward if it wasn’t the rocks the peril became burning oil, tipped on top and then ignited with flaming arrows. But they had prepared well by donning flame retardant cotton and silk and dousing themselves liberally with water. It was nonetheless a frightening sight to see men falling off, aflame even if the flames did not scorch. They panicked, broke off from the main body and were then picked off by the defenders.

As Ewan huddled ever closer to Morien and his immediate household he began to question the wisdom of deciding to lead the van. This was, after all, where the worst horrors were being visited on the attackers by the desperate defenders-they knew that there would be no quarter given once the walls were scaled.

They reached the walls and then there was an interminable pause-actually only a minute or so whilst the ladders were brought up-and all this under a withering rain of lethal rock, fire and arrow. Ewan had trained many times for this but nothing could have prepared him for the carnage that was unfolding before his very eyes: there was something very random about where death’s feathery flight would strike next. One minute he had been grasping the arm of Hugh of Thomond, the next that young lordling had spun away with an arrow protruding from the exposed casing between neck and gorget, blood outing from the wound and a startled look on his youthful face.

Ewan could hear himself, as if from a great distance, shouting ‘Mac Ailpin! Mac Ailpin!’ Then he was being gripped by his great friend Morien and propelled to one of the ladders-already ahead of him several knights were ascending, shields aloft to protect their king. Ewan needed no second prompting-his mentor, Adam of Munster, had always told him he was brave and here was the embodiment of that. There was only one way forward and that was up.

Others had taken up the cry as they ascended until he was at the battlements-the soldier ahead slumped to one side, a pike protruding through his inadequate chain armour-Ewan brought his great long sword slicing down cutting a man’s arm off with a grunt. A parry to beat off a second defender and a thrust through a third man’s throat. Now he was over the parapet on firm ground. Behind him his men were swarming over the top, driven to an insane rush by the thought of the peril of their king,

‘To Mac Ailpin! To mac Ailpin!’ Was the cry from all around as the white tunics of the crusaders with their distinctive red cross gathered and grew to the point that it became a numbers game: there were far more attackers than defenders. The main point of attack had concentrated around the King of Scots and not been found wanting…

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Afterwards King Ewan I of Scotland accepted the surrender of Chief Jaroslaw of Poznan upon the condition that he and all of the remaining garrison and townsfolk immediately converted to the one true faith. Amazingly there was not one person who did not accede to this request. The king himself had been wounded in the thickest press of battle and as he was being tended a courier brought news,

‘My Liege-glad tidings from your wife, Queen Tegridia-she has borne you a son. She has bid you name him Kenneth!’

Ewan sat back in his settle-he was tired, bone tired. The assault had utterly exhausted him, unnerved him too-he had seen more horrors in one day that he would care to see in a lifetime. But God would be pleased-not to mention the Holy Father-the main town of the Crusade had been conquered and by none other than by a Scots army led by himself.

Turning back to the page he merely said ‘it is a royal name, fitting and most apt-send to my wife our congratulations and the news that I will soon rejoin her.’

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He had not long dismissed the courier when there came another knock on the door. Reluctantly Ewan bade the man enter-this time it was his kinsman Duncan, an able Battle Commander and Flank leader-he had been a vital and loyal part of his court since his accession.

‘Ahhh Duncan-what news my friend?’ The effort of even talking made his wound stretch and ache. He had been not been quite quick enough to properly evade an axe cut when he was fighting atop Poznan’s battlements. As well for him it had only been a partial blow he had thought ruefully-if he had caught it full then he had no doubt that he would be missing an arm.

‘My King we have news from the Holy Father’s army-they have engaged the main Polish power to our north and bested them. The crusade has swung decisively in our favour.’

Ewan was on his knees, compelling his friend to do likewise, ‘praise god!’

‘There is more my King…it would seem that though the Holy Father greatly esteems the aid that the Kingdom of Scotland has shown, there is news…erm…’

The uncertainty in his old friends eyes was unsettling, ‘what is it Duncan? Tell me sir!’

‘My Lord…the King of the Poles has submitted to the Holy Father-he has converted to the one true faith…’

Ewan let this news sink in-it effectively ended this holy war-christian could not crusade against Christian.

‘This whoreson Pole-was he in earnest?’ Ewan asked in a small voice-he knew the answer though.

‘All could see it was done merely to save his Kingdom my lord-it was ill done.’

‘I see…’ Ewan was up off his knees in a trice. He had come to Poland dreaming of expanding his hegemony to Europe-had provided the largest army by far to the cause and now this!

‘What are your orders sire?’

‘Orders?’ Ewan’s eyes were glazed, ‘our work here is done Duncan-I will to return to my Queen and to my realm. You have good leave to leave us.’

‘Sire.’

And with the exit of his friend the King sank back on his knees and wept…

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That is a disappointment. Maybe there will be new opportunities soon.
 
That is a disappointment. Maybe there will be new opportunities soon.

I was non-plussed then furious! I had already worked out which of my relatives was to be King of Poland hehehe
And yes maybe there will be more opportunities and maybe closer to home-watch this space...
 
Yeah over 5000 views! Something of a milestone. Hope you're all enjoying it guys. Please do leave me some feedback if so :laugh:
 
Yeah over 5000 views! Something of a milestone. Hope you're all enjoying it guys. Please do leave me some feedback if so :laugh:
I just started reading CK2 AARs a few days ago and found yours yesterday. I've now read through it in its entirety. I can tell you it's one my favourite AARs so far. The dialogue is fabulous and the events are wonderfully imagined. Thank you for taking the time to write this.
 
I just started reading CK2 AARs a few days ago and found yours yesterday. I've now read through it in its entirety. I can tell you it's one my favourite AARs so far. The dialogue is fabulous and the events are wonderfully imagined. Thank you for taking the time to write this.

That is such a wonderful compliment-thanks so much Pelican Sam! It really does make all the difference getting feedback. I have actually taken a quick look at yours and it looks excellent-think you should have stuck with it. Will read properly over the weekend-first look and I have to say I am very impressed. Also being ex military my interest is piqued-bravo!