The Duchy of Pskov 1066 –

[kingmbutu]

The harshness of Vsevolod’s purge left the court both cowed and tamed. His vengeance spent, he to appointed his sister-in-law, Demian’s wife, to the position of Spy Mistress. She was a clever woman and well connected in the court. Her marriage to his brother kept her reliable. It was a good choice. Shortly after her appointment though, she died while giving birth. The former duchess, Domazhir’s second wife Ambrosia, took her place. Her years of blending into the background would serve her stepson well. Around the same time Sophie gave birth to another boy. Vsevolod’s succession seemed secure.

Demian was devastated by the death of his wife. He had loved her deeply and intently. The family from which she had come had lost their lands in wars with pagans, so there was no financial gain that Demian could look forward to. No, his love had been of the purest sort and his grief for his lost wife was as deep and profound as his love had been. Although his grief was great, he knew that he had to remarry. Although he was not eligible to inherit the throne, his sons would be. Besides, a new wife might help him to forget.

Initially, Vsevolod did nothing on the international front. The lands of Pskov were small and relatively poor. The men who could be called up to fight were inadequate for anything other than a limited defense of the homeland. The finances of the realm, though well managed, were low. He focused therefore on diplomacy and secured an alliance with the Principality of Galich.

In the meantime, his brother Simeon died, which was expected, leaving only Vsevolod’s sons and the sons of his sisters as heirs to the throne. The search for a new bride for Demian took two years and many false starts before a Greek woman from Napoli came to court.

Finally Vsevolod had enough men and finances to begin the expansion of the realm and to keep his promise to Demian. War against Savolaks was declared and Kajanborg joined in.

Kajanaborg was quickly subdued, and as a gift, was given to Demian as a bishopric. Vsevolod had kept his promise.

 

[kingmbutu]

Not the best post, but it keeps the story moving eh?

 

[stnylan]

Indeed. Sometimes it's best just to keep things ticking over (but no not feel obliged to if other stuff is more important). Pskov is slowly becoming more important by the sounds of things.

 

[kingmbutu]

News traveled slowly in those days, so it came as a surprise that Vseslava, the sister of his lord Duke Vsevolod had died in child birth. She had given birth to four children, three boys and one girl, and died while in labor with the fifth. A gift was sent as condolence for the loss, but also to shore up the relationship. Vsevolod did not grieve much. He was not much concerned about the welfare of his sisters, but only about his own well being.

His other sister, Maria, was in contrast, in excellent health, and by the time she was 29 had given birth to 9 children of whom six survived. Vsevolod’s younger sister was married off to the steward of the realm and named chancellor of Pskov. There were two other sisters, who had yet to be married.

Miloslav, the courtier who had been tutor and friend to Domazhir I, continued his long and productive life. He was sixty seven years old and so was expected to die at any time, but neither his energy nor confidence flagged. As a gift to him and recognition of his true life’s passion, he was given the position of chaplain and relieved of the chancellorship. At least Vsevolod thought that he was acting in recognition of Miloslav’s work. In actual fact, Miloslav had maneuvered well enough to make the decision an inevitable one. He could finally devote himself fully to the study of Holy Scripture and to prayer as had been his lifelong desire. He did not live long to enjoy it, however.

 

[stnylan]

Is that because of simple old age, or does someone decide to take it upon themselves to hasten his end?

 

[kingmbutu]

Is that because of simple old age, or does someone decide to take it upon themselves to hasten his end?

Well at his age one can never be sure....
Stay tuned after these messages

 

[kingmbutu]

Miloslav’s death was in no way suspicious. He was quite old and was found by his manservant dead in his bed, apparently having expired in the night. Vsevolod grieved for him, and suspected nothing. Any enemies the old man had were long gone from the court or from life itself. And it was in fact true that he had no enemies. But he did have competitors, one of whom arranged for small portions of poison to be introduced into his nightly drink. And so it was that his death, timely and unsuspicious as it was, cleared away a final obstacle for influence on the throne.

The invisible hand that facilitated Miloslav’s transition from death to life worked silently but energetically. The court of Lord Duke Vsevolod of Pskov was not a particularly exciting place in those days, at least to an outside observer. Vsevolod himself was not an austere man, but he was not given much to entertainment either. There was little obvious intrigue or political maneuvering. Vsevolod kept a tight lid on such things and there was no hope that anyone could influence him at all, other than his brother Demian. It was in 1098, ten years into his reign that Demian came to visit.

 

[kingmbutu]

Demian of Pskov

Arriving in the dead of winter, at the beginning of the year, Demian’s visit was somewhat surprising. It coincided with the birth of a child reputed to be his Lord Duke Vsevolod’s by a rather young court maiden. No one dared to speak of the issue, but it seemed that Vsevolod’s increasingly lustful behavior might have somehow called forth the arrival of his holy brother from the north.

Such talk was, of course, ridiculous. But the coincidence was striking, and the bastard child was the first subject of conversation once Demian and Vsevolod were alone. Demian spoke to him bluntly and directly; he was the only one who dared do so since everyone else feared Vsevolod’s reckless vengeful spirit.

“Dear brother,” Demian began, “It is good to see you. It has been far too long.” Vsevolod did not answer his brother. His eyes, normally fierce and defiant, were gloomily fixated on his mug of vodka. “Yes, dear brother,” Demian continued, “it has been too long.” Demian took a draught of beer, belched loudly and continued while still gazing down in his cup. “I have heard that a child has been born to a young girl in your house. Is this true?”

Vsevolod glared at his brother, “You know damn well it is true Demian. Why do you taunt me with these questions?” He laid his head back on his chair, and sighed heavily. “Demian, you know how these young girls are.”

“Do I?” Demian answered sharply. “Do I know how these young girls? Is their cup so full of sin that your lips must be the ones to drain that sin lest it spill on the sacred halls of the House of Pskov.” He was nearly yelling now. “Is that how these young girls are Vsevolod?” He brought his fist down hard on the arm of the chair; the sound of it echoed through the spacious chamber, startling Vsevolod. “Brother,” Vsevolod answered timidly; his eyes barely meeting his brother’s, “you forget that I am the Lord Duke of the House of Pskov.” His words were bold, but his voice trembled a bit. The man who was so often a lion to others was a newborn kitten in his brothers company.

“Yes my Lord, you are Lord Duke of the House of Pskov, as was our father before you.” Demian’s voice was calmer now; steady. “Yes,” Demian smiled now, and placed his mug on the table beside him. “Yes, our dear father, Lord Duke Domazhir, whose indiscretions resulted in the birth of a son, and the death of a woman. And though our father treated me as a true son, the scar, the stain of my birth haunts me now. And the woman who gave me life; well I suppose, my Lord Duke,” Demian spoke with bitter irony, “I suppose she was just one of those young girls, and Vsevolod, you know how those young girls are.”

Vsevolod was trembling now, his face fixed on the cold stone floor. His face was flushed red with shame. Suddenly and recklessly, he threw himself at his brother’s feet, the mug of vodka clattering to the ground. “Demian! Have mercy on you foolish and wicked brother. I beg your forgiveness.” Tears streaked Vsevolod’s face and dropped like burning raindrops to the floor below. Demian gently placed his hand on his brother’s head, his voice soothing and calm. He snatched his hair forcefully and turned Vsevolod’s face upwards towards him. “Vow to me that you will never dishonor any maiden or the honorable name of the House of Pskov in this way.” His tone was gentle, but his eyes were fierce. “Yes brother,” Vsevolod whispered, blinking away tears, “you have my word.”

 

[stnylan]

A very powerful scene. I like the way it builds, and how Vsevolod then breaks. I wonder of Vsevolod is even capable of keeping that promise.

 

[kingmbutu]

A very powerful scene. I like the way it builds, and how Vsevolod then breaks. I wonder of Vsevolod is even capable of keeping that promise.

I think he fears his brother, even though he is the one with all the power.

 

[kingmbutu]

Look for an update soon

 

[kingmbutu]

1098 saw both of the remaining daughters of Domazhir married off; one to Onega, and the other to Tmutarakan. They were good matches, as good as could be obtained for women whose children would stand low on the rung of inheritance, which was the primary consideration. Demian returned to his own lands, after convincing his younger brother the change the succession laws. While rewarding the strongest child with the inheritance ensured that the best warrior sat on the throne, it also encouraged far too much intrigue. Besides, the best warrior was not always the best ruler, as Demian himself knew, and might leave the inheritance in the hands of a child.

None of these arguments held much sway with Vsevolod however, He mainly changed the law because his brother advised him too. As gruff as he appeared to others, Vsevolod was a weak man who relied on Demian. Demian, who knew himself to be the real power behind the throne of Pskov, was far too circumspect to flaunt his power and influence publicly.

The next years passed uneventfully, but the need to increase the security and size of Pskov was pressing. In 1100, a visiting noble joined the court and was given the task of assassinating the heir to Polotsk. His death would leave the line of inheritance to be passed through a female. It would take no small amount of diplomacy to secure the daughters hand in marriage to Zinovii, Vsevolod’s heir, but it was worth the risk. Vsevolod would not be known for the subtlety of his foreign policy.

The heir to Polotsk was found strangled in a barn and the poorly hidden evidence pointed directly to the house of Pskov. Vsevolod’s bastard son was soon found poisoned in his crib. It was a small price to pay, Vsevolod thought, to secure lands for his lineage. Immediately efforts were put in place to improve the relationship. In two years, Zinovii would come of age, and he needed to marry this daughter of Rurik. In the meantime, Vsevolod’s increasingly stressed and harried wife gave birth to his fifth legitimate child, Simeon.

On other diplomatic fronts, Vsevolod’s brother in law, Maria’s husband, ascended to the throne of Moskva. The alliance between the two houses was reconfirmed. Maria’s fertility had been a boon to the house of Moskva and even at the time of her ascension was pregnant with her twelfth child. Her eldest daughter, Feodosia, had married into the Rurikovich clan as well by joining the same court as her aunt, Maria’s younger sister Elizaveta. As it stood, the aunt and the niece were married to brothers, making them in-laws as well. Elizaveta and Feodosia were not far apart in years, or in upbringing. Together they greatly influenced court life in the far away County of Tmutarakan.

As for Maria, she was proud of her progeny, and although only two of the four sons she had birthed had survived early childhood, she took it as a point of pride that she was pregnant at the same time as her daughter. The love and affection, as well as the consideration of her position which had been denied to her by her father Domazhir was more than compensated for in her relationship with the now Duke of Moskva. Despite her father’s disdain for her, her children would be the progenitors of a dynastic line as well as any of her brothers.

Maria, the fertile daughter of Domazhir I - Duchess of Moskva

 

[stnylan]

Polotsk would be a very nice title to inherit. Hopefully it will be worth the hassle. Demian is interesting, but I wonder if he might not yet trip up, somewhere along the line.

 

[kingmbutu]

Polotsk would be a very nice title to inherit. Hopefully it will be worth the hassle. Demian is interesting, but I wonder if he might not yet trip up, somewhere along the line.

We'll see. Vsevolod isn't exactly a daring and innovative monarch, so this may end up being his only real accomplishment other than being a very very mean man

As for Demian... he's a clever chap. We'll see what becomes of him.

 

[kingmbutu]

Pskov is slowly becoming more important by the sounds of things.

Very slowly

 

[kingmbutu]

Sophie - the ongoing of stress of being married to Vsevolod and managing her illness finally caused her to crack. Vsevolod had no pity on her. She had done her duty of providing healthy heirs for the House of Pskov and he therefore had her locked in her room. He saw her only when lust compelled him and his vow to Demian restrained him from seeking fulfillment in other ways. Her life was miserable. She was often alone and more often horribly abused. She prayed for death, but death would not come.

After visiting his wife’s chamber and spending himself on her prone, chained and naked body, Vsevolod marched north. His target was the Lappish marshes of Kemi. Her allies, Kola and Hlynov, marched to war in support. This campaign was Vsevolod’s hope for glory after the foray into diplomacy which had cost the life of his bastard son.

The pagans of Kola were quickly subdued but at the cost of Vsevolod being wounded severely. The wound should have resulted in his return to Pskov, but he refused to do so. Earning glory for his name and for his lineage was more important, and led to a serious infection. Vsevolod was now both wounded and ill. His recklessness was a danger to himself and to his dynasty, but he was too unconcerned to care.

Back in Pskov, Sophie became ill as did Ambrosia, Domazhir’s widow, both of them with pneumonia. Sophie prayed more. Sickness was all that seemed to define her life.

As Vsevolod grew weaker, his son Zinovii, came of age and took over from Ambrosia the duties of spy master. He was not yet married, but his father’s illness and aggravating wound made it much more likely that he would ascend the throne quickly. There was progress being made in securing a marriage to the heiress of Polotsk, but nothing as yet had been settled. He completed his education and became fanatic in his devotion to his religious duties.

 

[kingmbutu]

Following the fall of Kemi bad news came to the camp. As Vsevolod sat outside of his tent with his leading men planning his next strategic move, in the distance clods of earth began to fly up from the hooves of rapidly approaching horse. Vsevolod watched his approach and when he dismounted, the courier almost fell to the ground. Vsevolod drew his sword, “What is the news?” The horseman could barely catch his breath, “My Lord...” he began, bowing low. Vsevolod put his foot on the back of the man’s neck forcing his face into the mud. “I don’t have time for your pleasantries. If you value your life, you will speak truly and quickly.”

His chest heaving, the hapless messenger spoke into the ground, “It is war my Lord. The pagans of Tavasts and Karelia are marching against Pskov.” Vsevolod took his foot off the messenger’s neck. “Is this true?” “Yes, my lord.” Vsevolod screamed into the air, hoisted his sword high in the air and brought it down directly into the neck of the messenger, pinning his twitching body to the ground. He turned and limped into his tent. This was a disaster.

The siege continued, and Kemi fell, freeing the attrition plagued army of Pskov to travel south to attack Karelia. As his armies marched, his desire for vengeance was tempered with the advice of his brother Demian. He was no match for the might of Karelia and Tavasts and so pleas for peace were made. The pagans of Yatviags had also joined the war, and peace was bought at a high price in gold.

In the meantime, Zinovii married the daughter of the house of Polotsk, Evpraxia Rurikovch. The intrigues of previous years were forgotten. The couple met only days before their wedding and the attraction was instantaneous. Their wedding night was full of passion and intensity. Zinovii could not have been more pleased.

 

[stnylan]

So Vsevold survives - barely - to fight another day. And it looks at least like his son is different in some important aspects.

 

[kingmbutu]

So Vsevold survives - barely - to fight another day. And it looks at least like his son is different in some important aspects.

Vsevolod is a tough guy, and mean, but so weak minded. His son at least cares for his wife in ways that would leave Vsevolod breathless

 

[kingmbutu]

Demian’s bishopric was the center of conflict. His poor province poorly defended and cold was besieged on every side by the pagans. Vsevolod was no strategist, and certainly no diplomat. His own illness prevented him from doing anything of substance to help. It seemed that at any moment, the Bishopric of Kajanaborg, Vsevolod’s gift to his brother would fall. Back in Pskov, lying flat on his back, Vsevolod begged forgiveness of his sins, and pleaded with God for mercy for his brother.

His prayers went unanswered. His brother and family arrived in the court of Pskov; refugees from the land he had once ruled. Vsevolod wept bitterly, vowing vengeance and loudly renouncing the promises he had made to God. Demian took it in stride however. The kingdom of heaven, he reminded his brother, was its own reward. Demian became Chaplain for the court; Vsevolod having dismissed the ancient and ineffective previous patriarch.

Demian’s daily visits to Vsevolod were the only bright spot in his Lord Duke’s otherwise tortured existence. Far to the north, his son and heir continued an ineffective siege against the pagans of Tavasts, with little hope of winning. From the south he heard news that his sister, Maria, had died while in labor with her thirteenth child. His own body was continually racked with pain.

“Dear brother,” Demian spoke gently while placing his hands on Vsevolod’s brow, “calm yourself.” Vsevolod sighed, almost shuddering, and pouted. His voice took on a whining tone. “Demian, why has this misfortune come upon me? I went forward to fight the enemies of God, and yet they prevail against me. The lands we once held are lost, and our armies barely fight. There is no gold in the treasury…”

Demian interrupted him, “Calm yourself brother.” He said it with more force this time. Vsevolod sighed again. “The path that you walk is the one that had been made for you, but you have not made it easy for yourself. The wife God gave you, and who gave herself to you and who provided sons to carry on your name lies chained in her rooms, kept company only by the haunting whispers of her mind. Your sons, healthy and strong, do not know the loving touch of their father, but only fear him. Your servants cower and lose their voice when you approach. You have ruled these people not as the hand of God, but as his scourge. God did not send you forth to battle these pagans, nor did I ask you to grant me any lands. You went forth for the sake of your own pride, and now the people suffer for it, as do you my lord.” Vsevolod sighed again. If anyone else had spoken to him in this way, their tongues would have been cut from their head and fed to them. Vsevolod merely listened. He was his brother’s liege, but he was not his lord.