Leontii has the opportunity to go to the front and annex this Hlynov. That will announce his arrival to all the Rus.
The Duchy of Pskov 1066 –
- Thread starter kingmbutu
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Ahh the need for Sons. I agree with Chief Ragusa, time for Leontii to make his mark in style!
You just blew my mind. I just started playing the same country last night. I thought he started as a Count? A lot of pagans that need to see the light of God. I'm looking forward making them see that light, in the form of everything being burnt to the ground.
Nice AAR by the way.
Nice AAR by the way.
“Leontii, my prince, you have not yet become your own man.” Lady Maddalena’s words cut as bitterly as the sharp wind that through the courtyard on that clear December day. “You fight battles that do not belong to you, merely because you have inherited them. It does not honor your father, nor does it show concern for your people to wage war incessantly for no gain.”
The snow crunched under Leontii’s booted feet as her shifted back and forth and pulled his bearskin cloak closer around him. Standing there swaying back and forth, he looked more pupil than prince compared to Maddelena’s ramrod straight stance.
The cold did not seem to affect Maddalena at all. Perhaps her Italian blood kept her warmer than he. At least it seemed that way. Leontii could not complain however. It would have been unbecoming a prince. Besides, he is the one who insisted on meeting out of doors. A walk through the frost bitten garden with his aunt was good cover for seeking her advice. He did not want anyone to get the idea that he was ruled by a woman.
“Maddy.” It was a name that only a child would use, or close family. Even Demian had only rarely referred to his sister that way, preferring instead the more formal, ‘dear sister.’ “Maddy, all that I have been trained for is war. How can I ever be a man of peace?” It was a sincere question. There was no pretense with Leontii.
“My prince,” Maddalena’s decorum never slipped. Although she was wiser and older than he, she knew better than to slip into undue familiarity, Such a slip now could cost her later. “Your marshal, the pagan, insults your name. The constant warring makes him feel more deserving of power and prestige. The men who fight grow weary of never seeing their wives and children. There is no increase in treasure nor in learning. The land and the people need rest. Lord Prince, your people will never fight for you, until they know that you care for them.”
Lady Maddalena was right. Leontii shifted again in his boots, the crunching snow sounding out the patterns of his thoughts. He stopped abruptly and drew himself up to his full stature. “Chancellor Lady Maddalena of Pskov, draw up the documents. We will have peace with these western pagans. Our land will see rest.” Maddalena bowed slightly; “Yes, my Lord.”
The snow crunched under Leontii’s booted feet as her shifted back and forth and pulled his bearskin cloak closer around him. Standing there swaying back and forth, he looked more pupil than prince compared to Maddelena’s ramrod straight stance.
The cold did not seem to affect Maddalena at all. Perhaps her Italian blood kept her warmer than he. At least it seemed that way. Leontii could not complain however. It would have been unbecoming a prince. Besides, he is the one who insisted on meeting out of doors. A walk through the frost bitten garden with his aunt was good cover for seeking her advice. He did not want anyone to get the idea that he was ruled by a woman.
“Maddy.” It was a name that only a child would use, or close family. Even Demian had only rarely referred to his sister that way, preferring instead the more formal, ‘dear sister.’ “Maddy, all that I have been trained for is war. How can I ever be a man of peace?” It was a sincere question. There was no pretense with Leontii.
“My prince,” Maddalena’s decorum never slipped. Although she was wiser and older than he, she knew better than to slip into undue familiarity, Such a slip now could cost her later. “Your marshal, the pagan, insults your name. The constant warring makes him feel more deserving of power and prestige. The men who fight grow weary of never seeing their wives and children. There is no increase in treasure nor in learning. The land and the people need rest. Lord Prince, your people will never fight for you, until they know that you care for them.”
Lady Maddalena was right. Leontii shifted again in his boots, the crunching snow sounding out the patterns of his thoughts. He stopped abruptly and drew himself up to his full stature. “Chancellor Lady Maddalena of Pskov, draw up the documents. We will have peace with these western pagans. Our land will see rest.” Maddalena bowed slightly; “Yes, my Lord.”
Where is the revelling in conquering a foe? Peace? Caring for the peasants. Are you sure this is Russia? Leontii has not even had a bridal contest - try before you buy - to find himself a wife. I am seriously thinking that he is not of the line of Rurik.
stnylan : He is a learner indeed. Time will tell if his learning posture pays off
Chief Ragusa : He isn't in the line of Rurik and would be offended at the idea. He is of the House of Pskov, a proud descendant of Domazhir I; and he has a wife already... and two daughters, which is a problem but not an insoluble one
Chief Ragusa : He isn't in the line of Rurik and would be offended at the idea. He is of the House of Pskov, a proud descendant of Domazhir I; and he has a wife already... and two daughters, which is a problem but not an insoluble one
Congatulations to Leontii on his two daughters. Here's hoping he has a son soon. He's obviously keen on establishing his own dynasty and that of his city-state. Maddy's advice is good. He needs to invest in the the basic resources of his Duchy.
Early the next year, 1125, couriers bearing the seal of Pskov and letters signed by Lady Maddalena were dispatched to the courts of the western pagans. Leontii sought peace; he needed to consolidate his gains. Besides the men were tired from constant warring and the land itself needed rest.
For the pagans, the price for such peace was a large sum of gold. They could not know, nor did they know the reasons for the change in Leontii’s position; Maddalena had seen to that. She had also worked hard to make the offer of peace much more conditional than it really was in order to extract an even higher payment. In any event the gambit worked, and soon after the marshal, himself a pagan, rode back into the courts of Pskov.
It was late in the evening when Leontii and Evgeniia made their entrance into the dining hall of the Pskovian citadel. Leontii attempts to smile and show good humor only accentuated his ugliness, especially next to his wife, Princess Evgeniia, who was radiant despite the fact that she was now a mother.
Their entry brought the boisterous noise of the gathered nobles, servants and knights to hushed whisperings. The music, which had always been playing, could now be heard, and as the Prince & Princess strode towards their seats, each person bowed low to the ground. And when they were seated, each of them rose again, in order of their rank in the duchy.
This was a new protocol, introduced by the princess, and it was designed to remind each of the courtiers exactly how close, or far, they were from influencing the throne, Lady Maddalena was, of course, the first to rise, because she was a child of Domazhir I as well as chancellor of the realm, even though she held no titles.
Down the line they went until the entire court was standing in silence, waiting for the Prince Leontii to signal a resumption of the meal with a toast.
And then it happened.
Leontii raised his goblet. “Gentlemen of Pskov, our God had seen fit to grant us victory against the unbelieving pagans that have for too long held our brothers in captivity. And he has this day also given us peace…” Just then the marshal, who had clearly had more to drink than was wise, stood.
His standing was itself a breach of protocol, and very disrespectful, but then he spoke, slurring his speech. “God had nothing to do with it. The spirit that is … that is in me.” He staggered a bit, but regained himself quickly. “Lord Prince, if I may humbly ask a reward appropriate to my deed… if you could see fit to…” His words degenerated into inarticulate mumbles, and the marshal collapsed in a heap.
When he woke, he was far outside the citadel, dumped unceremoniously in a pit outside. His drunken rant had cost him his position and his home.
For the pagans, the price for such peace was a large sum of gold. They could not know, nor did they know the reasons for the change in Leontii’s position; Maddalena had seen to that. She had also worked hard to make the offer of peace much more conditional than it really was in order to extract an even higher payment. In any event the gambit worked, and soon after the marshal, himself a pagan, rode back into the courts of Pskov.
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It was late in the evening when Leontii and Evgeniia made their entrance into the dining hall of the Pskovian citadel. Leontii attempts to smile and show good humor only accentuated his ugliness, especially next to his wife, Princess Evgeniia, who was radiant despite the fact that she was now a mother.
Their entry brought the boisterous noise of the gathered nobles, servants and knights to hushed whisperings. The music, which had always been playing, could now be heard, and as the Prince & Princess strode towards their seats, each person bowed low to the ground. And when they were seated, each of them rose again, in order of their rank in the duchy.
This was a new protocol, introduced by the princess, and it was designed to remind each of the courtiers exactly how close, or far, they were from influencing the throne, Lady Maddalena was, of course, the first to rise, because she was a child of Domazhir I as well as chancellor of the realm, even though she held no titles.
Down the line they went until the entire court was standing in silence, waiting for the Prince Leontii to signal a resumption of the meal with a toast.
And then it happened.
Leontii raised his goblet. “Gentlemen of Pskov, our God had seen fit to grant us victory against the unbelieving pagans that have for too long held our brothers in captivity. And he has this day also given us peace…” Just then the marshal, who had clearly had more to drink than was wise, stood.
His standing was itself a breach of protocol, and very disrespectful, but then he spoke, slurring his speech. “God had nothing to do with it. The spirit that is … that is in me.” He staggered a bit, but regained himself quickly. “Lord Prince, if I may humbly ask a reward appropriate to my deed… if you could see fit to…” His words degenerated into inarticulate mumbles, and the marshal collapsed in a heap.
When he woke, he was far outside the citadel, dumped unceremoniously in a pit outside. His drunken rant had cost him his position and his home.
He should count himself lucky. In earlier days he would be hung up on a gibbet for such a breach of etiquette.
Wow, kingbutu! I liked the last two posts! The discussion between prince and aunt/chancellor was well written, and the marshal's drunken spiel about deserving an award was priceless 
Well done!
Well done!
That's one way to be rid of a pagan marshal. He is lucky he is still alive, though it was Christmas and kiilling a pagan might have stirred the other pagans out of their recent peace.
Leontii can start making the Duchy over in his own image. he could be his own icon and sell them throughout the Duchy so that he is known to every peasant.
Leontii can start making the Duchy over in his own image. he could be his own icon and sell them throughout the Duchy so that he is known to every peasant.
stnylan : He should count himself lucky that Leontii is merciful. I shuder to think what his father would have done, much less Vsevolod, his grandfather.
CatKnight :Thanks for your kind words. Writing about a drunken speil is much more difficult than giving one.
Chief Ragusa : Yes, Leontii is definitely beginning to stamp his image on the realm
Stay tuned; there is more after these messages from our sponsor
CatKnight :Thanks for your kind words. Writing about a drunken speil is much more difficult than giving one.
Chief Ragusa : Yes, Leontii is definitely beginning to stamp his image on the realm
Stay tuned; there is more after these messages from our sponsor
Leontii was increasingly concerned about his lineage. His wife had not yet borne any male children and his uncle Rogvolod, the Count of Kemi, stood next in line for the inheritance. What an irony, given that Rogvolod had worked so hard during the reign of Zinovii to influence the throne, that he no longer had much interest in it. His exile to the far north had cooled his ambitions for leadership of the realm.
In any event there was little danger that the line of the house of Pskov would die off; even the Prince of Moskva held a distant claim on the throne, but Leontii wanted an heir, a son of his own and Evgeniia had not provided one. Consultation with the spymaster – Domazhir, became more frequent.
In the meantime, his sister, Daria came of age, but was moody and depressive. As Leontii’s sister, Daria was of little use within the court. She was not particularly well suited to any official role, and her personality generally depressed everyone she came in contact with. Leontii dreaded every encounter with her, and saw to it that she was married off as quickly as possible.
She married her maternal cousin Matfei of Novgorod of the house of Polotsk, thus further strengthening the dynastic ties between the two houses. No one was sad to see her go, and she herself seemed as happy as she had ever been when she was unceremoniously packed up and sent far away from Pskov, never to return. Maddalena did not even bother to see her off; Daria did not seem to care.
The years rolled rapidly by as the people of Pskov became accustomed once again to peace. Heeding the advice of his aunt, Prince Leontii built libraries to facilitate learning, training grounds for armies, and huge quarries to improve the economy. The finances of the realm improved rapidly under his administration and that of his steward. Leontii had removed his wife from the post, believing that her work at such “manly” endeavors might be the cause of her failure to give birth to a son. A gifted pagan noble, a refugee from one of the conquered lands, assumed her place instead.
The lands of Pskov were quite extensive, and the power and prestige of the House of Pskov was rising rapidly. The pagan chiefs that surrounded Pskov were anxious to exact revenge and reclaim land, but none of them were strong enough to press an attack forward on their own. These years of Leontii’s reign were prosperous and secure.
Despite the peace that prevailed, Prince Leontii himself daily practiced the art of war. He was a zealously devoted to it as his father Zinovii, had been to the holy church. Every morning, from dawn until midmorning, he drilled himself, practiced his sword technique, and occasionally wrestled. Every evening, when he was spared the tedium of official functions and state dinners, he spent in study of military strategy. It was most ironic that the ruler of Pskov most passionate about war reigned during a time of relative peace. It was necessary; this he knew. But he did not care for it.
In 1128, his opportunity came. The Kievan branch of the Rurikovich family split with the death of the ancient Sviatoslav Rurikovich separating the lands of Novgorod from those of Kiev. An alliance was secured with one of the minor branches of the family – the Count of Vologda. Leontii saw in the dynastic confusion an opportunity to try his own hand at war, though he was wise enough not to attack any of the Rurikovich lands. Though divided, they were still a formidable foe.
In any event there was little danger that the line of the house of Pskov would die off; even the Prince of Moskva held a distant claim on the throne, but Leontii wanted an heir, a son of his own and Evgeniia had not provided one. Consultation with the spymaster – Domazhir, became more frequent.
In the meantime, his sister, Daria came of age, but was moody and depressive. As Leontii’s sister, Daria was of little use within the court. She was not particularly well suited to any official role, and her personality generally depressed everyone she came in contact with. Leontii dreaded every encounter with her, and saw to it that she was married off as quickly as possible.
She married her maternal cousin Matfei of Novgorod of the house of Polotsk, thus further strengthening the dynastic ties between the two houses. No one was sad to see her go, and she herself seemed as happy as she had ever been when she was unceremoniously packed up and sent far away from Pskov, never to return. Maddalena did not even bother to see her off; Daria did not seem to care.
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The years rolled rapidly by as the people of Pskov became accustomed once again to peace. Heeding the advice of his aunt, Prince Leontii built libraries to facilitate learning, training grounds for armies, and huge quarries to improve the economy. The finances of the realm improved rapidly under his administration and that of his steward. Leontii had removed his wife from the post, believing that her work at such “manly” endeavors might be the cause of her failure to give birth to a son. A gifted pagan noble, a refugee from one of the conquered lands, assumed her place instead.
The lands of Pskov were quite extensive, and the power and prestige of the House of Pskov was rising rapidly. The pagan chiefs that surrounded Pskov were anxious to exact revenge and reclaim land, but none of them were strong enough to press an attack forward on their own. These years of Leontii’s reign were prosperous and secure.
Despite the peace that prevailed, Prince Leontii himself daily practiced the art of war. He was a zealously devoted to it as his father Zinovii, had been to the holy church. Every morning, from dawn until midmorning, he drilled himself, practiced his sword technique, and occasionally wrestled. Every evening, when he was spared the tedium of official functions and state dinners, he spent in study of military strategy. It was most ironic that the ruler of Pskov most passionate about war reigned during a time of relative peace. It was necessary; this he knew. But he did not care for it.
In 1128, his opportunity came. The Kievan branch of the Rurikovich family split with the death of the ancient Sviatoslav Rurikovich separating the lands of Novgorod from those of Kiev. An alliance was secured with one of the minor branches of the family – the Count of Vologda. Leontii saw in the dynastic confusion an opportunity to try his own hand at war, though he was wise enough not to attack any of the Rurikovich lands. Though divided, they were still a formidable foe.
Velikiye Luki lay immediately to the south of Pskov. Decades earlier during another dynastic struggle, it had briefly been ruled by a prince who pledged loyalty to the House of Pskov. In the intervening years, the lands had changed hands several times, and were now part of the Principality of Beloozero, whose armies had been exhausted by war.
They were now isolated, with no allies except their vassal who was no real threat, and Moskva, which was tied to Pskov by both an alliance and blood. There was little threat that they would intervene in a conflict against their own family. The ruler of Moskva was his cousin after all. Prince Leontii took his chances, called up his armies and marched south.
Against expectations, and all good sense, Moskva honored their alliance and went to war. They did not fight against Pskov however. Maddalena’s personal diplomacy had secured a pledge from Modest. They fought Novgorod instead, which was even more foolish.
Novgorod was a large and prosperous duchy, albeit one in turmoil due to the recent dynastic challenges. Their vassal, Vologda, had joined with Pskov in the assault against Beloozero, mostly as a gesture of solidarity, because they two were related to the House of Pskov. Modest, Moskva’s inept ruler, marched against Vologda, which brought Novgorod into the conflict as well.
The ineptitude of Moskva’s ruler was evidenced not only in the courts of diplomacy, but also on the field of war. In the very first engagement of the war, Modest was killed as he foolishly charged directly into a barrage of arrows without a shield, nor any metal armor. He left his seven year old son an inheritance of an un-winnable war.
Despite the foolishness of war with Novgorod, the late prince of Moskva, Modest, had left a sizeable army and a decent marshal who continued the fight after his death. In an amazing stroke of luck, the armies of Moskva laid siege to Novgorod while her armies were elsewhere and Novgorod paid a large sum to lift the siege. The young new prince was freed from the burden of war.
They were now isolated, with no allies except their vassal who was no real threat, and Moskva, which was tied to Pskov by both an alliance and blood. There was little threat that they would intervene in a conflict against their own family. The ruler of Moskva was his cousin after all. Prince Leontii took his chances, called up his armies and marched south.
Against expectations, and all good sense, Moskva honored their alliance and went to war. They did not fight against Pskov however. Maddalena’s personal diplomacy had secured a pledge from Modest. They fought Novgorod instead, which was even more foolish.
Novgorod was a large and prosperous duchy, albeit one in turmoil due to the recent dynastic challenges. Their vassal, Vologda, had joined with Pskov in the assault against Beloozero, mostly as a gesture of solidarity, because they two were related to the House of Pskov. Modest, Moskva’s inept ruler, marched against Vologda, which brought Novgorod into the conflict as well.
The ineptitude of Moskva’s ruler was evidenced not only in the courts of diplomacy, but also on the field of war. In the very first engagement of the war, Modest was killed as he foolishly charged directly into a barrage of arrows without a shield, nor any metal armor. He left his seven year old son an inheritance of an un-winnable war.
Despite the foolishness of war with Novgorod, the late prince of Moskva, Modest, had left a sizeable army and a decent marshal who continued the fight after his death. In an amazing stroke of luck, the armies of Moskva laid siege to Novgorod while her armies were elsewhere and Novgorod paid a large sum to lift the siege. The young new prince was freed from the burden of war.
The wind blew fiercely against Leontii’s bare face as he surveyed his army spread out over the verdant landscape. Thousands of men had been gathered for the push against Makar, prince of Beloozero whose claim to Velikiye Luki were the cause of this present conflict. An alliance scured by Maddalena with the Price of Kiev had secured Pskov’s borders against attack on the flanks; Pskov was clearly a major force in Russian politics. Politics were far from Leontii’s mind that day however. This field of battle; this campaign of war, is what he had been made for. For the first time in his reign Leontii felt genuine joy.
“Lord Prince, the men are ready.” The deep baritone of Leontii’s aide interrupted his reveille. “Very well then,” Leontii answered. “Watch me!” And then, uncharacteristically, Leontii snapped the reins of his horse. “Yah!” he yelled and charged forward towards the opposing line, screaming the charge.
He knew that to personally engage in battle was not the wisest strategic move; as commander and prince, it was a risk to his dynasty. But the sheer joy of battle overcame him as his men joined the charge. As he dashed by them, many of them saw what few else had ever seen; Leontii was smiling.
“Lord Prince, the men are ready.” The deep baritone of Leontii’s aide interrupted his reveille. “Very well then,” Leontii answered. “Watch me!” And then, uncharacteristically, Leontii snapped the reins of his horse. “Yah!” he yelled and charged forward towards the opposing line, screaming the charge.
He knew that to personally engage in battle was not the wisest strategic move; as commander and prince, it was a risk to his dynasty. But the sheer joy of battle overcame him as his men joined the charge. As he dashed by them, many of them saw what few else had ever seen; Leontii was smiling.