The sound of the horse’s hooves pounding against the dirt path matched the pound of blood in Velnias’ ears. His deep red cape flew behind him as he took a glace back to see the three horsemen in brown cloaks rounded the corner he had passed moments ago. Refocusing on the path ahead of him he pushed his horse on harder trusting the beast to navigate the tangled roots that sometimes crossed the path. The men behind him were slowly falling back caution getting the better part of them as he vaulted over a large log that had fallen over the path. The sunlight blasted him as he burst out of the forest with a loud cry, thundering down the path through the fields toward Jurbarkas. He realized he was smiling broadly as the lowborn made way for him, nothing felt as good as feeling a horse gallop under one’s self.
He was brushing his horse down when the gates opened letting the three men in, they looked as tired as their horses did. One of them, Jovirdas, leaped off his horse and stormed toward him. “What were you thinking? You could have, should have, died during that mad dash through the forest. Or worse bandits could have come, you know there are always some even this close to Jurbarkas.” He shouted, his hood flying off his head as the man raged at his chief.
Velnias tried to fit his face to the seriousness of the situation, he successfully stifled a laugh but he failed with a broad grin. “Oh, you are just mad because your horses did not have a hope to keep up. We were going down paths that I know by heart and there are no bandits this close to the hall. Besides, the Veles are looking out for us most right now, entering our houses.”
“I don’t care. You can not keep doing this. That is it, I have had it.” He yelled, ripping off the patch on his cloak and storming out. Velnias looked at the patch for a moment, already mud had turned the stag brown instead of black and the red was muddled as well. He let Jovirdas go; the man was vassal and had to be at least listened to, if not followed.
“Neophytos, may you go into the afterlife and live without your illness. May you join my family’s Veles and advise them as you advised my father in life.” Bubilas ended his speech as the Greek was slowly lowered into the ground. The traditional fire alter was lit near his head as the other grievers started a traditional song. He slowly walked over to his father, “26 is such a young age to die. Why did he die?”
Velnias looked at his newly adult son, “Well for one he was from the south and not used to our cold north. For two, he was a eunuch. Eunuchs are frail of health. Look at it this way; he died when the world was being reborn making him a vele of rebirth. But enough of that, you did wonderfully. Your study under Jaunule was very successful. You know the ways of the faith better than almost everyone in my realm.”
“Yes, I suppose I did, and I do. Thank you for letting me lead this funeral. Neophytos was a good man. He even followed our faith.” Bublias smiled as he looked at his father, Velnias the Magnanimous they had started to call him.
“No. I will not fire her. Now that Neophytos is dead, there is no one left who is half as good at the shadowy arts as she.” Velnias raged at the woman a few feet away. This was asinine of her to even ask. Ragana may be his wife who had bore him three sons and a daughter, but she had no business stepping into the affairs of the realm. Not only that but she had loudly complained about his spymaster in the past so even if he did agree with her everyone would assume she had just pushed him into it.
“Why should you not? You don’t need anyone good at the ‘shadowy arts’ as you call them. You are just fine at them yourself. Or are you just doing this to spite me? Was I not good enough to only give you four children? Four children that have almost made it to adulthood I might add.” Ragana yelled back. She would stand her ground against her husband even though she knew she would lose this fight.
Their fight would last long into the night and the servants would, one by one, quietly leave the hall to let them continue. While Velnias was known for being kind to people he was not always such to his wife, but then again she was not known for always giving the best of requests.
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872 was a quiet year for Velnais. His heir would reach issue and days later a Eunuch he had been given from Greece would die of illness. According to Arelis the Prussian, 872 was when he became known as the Magnanimous. Though oddly right after Arelis mentions this for the first time he tells the story of a fight Velnias had with his wife over an unnamed woman who was Velnias’ spymaster. Arelis seems to attempt both to make Velnias larger than life while putting in reminders that he was just a man.
-Traidenis Liudason, A History of Medieval Lithuania
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