BOOK SEVEN. The Last Knight-Errant
The Reign of Ostromír Rychnovský, Kráľ of Veľká Morava
Alright, folks. This is it. Last book of this AAR.
Explicit
hat-tip / finger-wag to
@filcat for both the title and parts of the content of this chapter.
ONE
Bohemian Rhapsody
4 April 1388 – 18 April 1391
I.
4 April 1388 – 27 September 1389
Kráľ Ostromír sank down in his chair in his study and gave a long sigh of exhaustion. He still wore the mourning colours for his father, but there wasn’t really time or space to mourn him. Two very urgent matters required his attention.
The first matter was the rebellion that Drahomír was facing in Hradec and Přemkov. Normally, it would have been considered gauche for Ostromír, who was suzerain in Moravia Proper, to take any interest in matters which affected one of his vassals in their own domain. But this seemed to be of a different nature. The expansions to the mines at Čáslav wrought by Radomír, though they had been done to enrich and adorn the realm, had instead created a surging wave of inflation. All manner of goods, even basic goods like grain, meat and cheese, were now nearly double in price what they had been. And the hardest-struck by that inflation had been the Bohemian peasantry and burghers living in the north.
The popular anger against the rising prices had been mostly directed against Drahomír and his taxation policies, and the local nobility and gentry had been compelled, in this case, to take up arms against Drahomír in pursuit of a lighter tax load. But the anger of the peasantry was not so easily assuaged. The rebellion had sprawled over into Silesia; such that the town of Brassel was now up in arms against the
Vojvoda. This fact alone made it a matter which touched on the King’s interests.
And then there was the matter of Teodotii in the east.
Teodotii was Ostromír’s first cousin once removed on his mother’s side. But he had always been a bit aloof from attending court at Olomouc, and this troubled Ostromír. After all, Teodotii was now the most influential
knieža in the east, and his contacts with the Russians over the border as well as his notable diplomatic skills made him that much more perilous. If Drahomír and Teodotii joined their forces against Ostromír in rebellion, the result could be devastating to the whole Moravian realm.
Ostromír therefore found himself poring over documents at his study, in an attempt to figure out how best to drive a wedge between them.
Then, all of a sudden, there was someone in the doorway.
Ostromír looked up. ‘Oh, it’s you, Blahomíra. Come in, come in.’
‘Is anything the matter, liege?’ asked the
hraběnka.
Ostromír smoothed his face over. ‘Nothing of much importance. What brings you to Olomouc?’
‘Well, it’s about Kalju. I was hoping you would let him go.’
Ostromír leaned back in his chair. ‘He was taken in arms during Ctislava’s rebellion. Why should I?’
‘Please, sire. He’s just a poor boy, from a poor family.’
Ostromír snorted. The Mikulčických were very many things, but they were far from
poor. If Blahomíra wanted to see
poor, she could go to Hradec and see how the peasants haggled for bread at market, with these prices. His voice was derisive as he answered her. ‘Easy come, easy go, is it? One day you’re riding a little high, and the next you’re sunk a little low.’
‘But will you let him go?’
‘In God’s name,
no! I will
not let him go. No—no—no—no—
no—
no—
no!’
Blahomíra shrank at this unexpected outburst, but she was not entirely deterred. Indeed, she took on something of a sympathetic look. ‘Sire, are you well? You look a little… strained.’
Ostromír rubbed his eyes with his palms. ‘Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just caught in a landslide here.’
A shrewd look came over Blahomíra’s face. The woman wasn’t exactly subtle, was she?
‘Troubles in the west, eh? Well, I’m sure that even a king could use some assistance in these matters. Favour for a favour, what say?’
‘And what sort of favour are you offering?’ asked the king.
‘Pecuniary assistance,’ said Blahomíra bluntly. ‘I’m sure that keeping the other vassals sweet doesn’t come cheaply. I could help ease that expense a bit… in exchange for Kalju.’
Ostromír sighed. She was right about that, of course. And under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have thought twice about releasing a prisoner for ransom. Ahhh, well. Let her have Kalju back. He was just taking up space under house arrest, anyway.
‘Alright. I shall send out Kalju to you.’
Blahomíra bowed low in gratitude. ‘Your Majesty is wise and forgiving.’
Assistance was forthcoming from other quarters as well. He soon got some helpful pointers on how to deal with Teodotii from the one person he should have asked in the first place.
‘Mama?’ Ostromír asked.
‘Why didn’t you let me know earlier that you weren’t getting on well with Teodotii?’ asked Katarína. ‘I could have interceded for you with him. But it’s too late now—anything I would say to him on your behalf would be heard as suspect.’
‘Is there anything
I can do?’
‘Something you
should have been doing since you were a little boy!’ Katarína snapped. ‘You ought to have attended to your lessons in Russian! Your father at least applied himself to the subject, and did so quite well. All of your old readers are still here,’ she said, placing several thin bound volumes on the desk in front of her son. ‘You might want to crack them open, and soon.’
Ostromír did so. ‘Thank you, Mother.’
‘Another thing, son,’ she told him. ‘Teodotii and his wife were expecting another child. Perhaps she’s already given birth, in which case you can send him your congratulations and well-wishes… in his own tongue. Might be a nice gesture.’
Indeed, when Ostromír did pay a visit to Siget and offered his congratulations to Teodotii Koceľuk and Jároslava Rogvolodovná on the birth of their third child, he was able to manage, mostly, in passible conversational Russian.
‘
Vďaku vas,
Hospoď,’ answered Teodotii, grinning from ear to ear. ‘She’s just been churched. You know, our Sbyslava might be our fairest one yet. Dark hair, fair skin—easy on the eyes. We’ll have to see to it she doesn’t get too vain. You’ll stay for a while, won’t you?’
In fact, Ostromír hadn’t been expecting such a gesture. ‘Well, I hadn’t—’
Teodotii cut him off by calling back into the hall. ‘
Jás! We’re having a guest! Bring out the good stuff!’
‘
Already?’ came a voice from inside the house. ‘I barely just get back on my feet after my uncleanliness, and you want me to play the hostess for one of your
drinking buddies?’
‘By God, woman!’ Teodotii shouted. ‘This is a special occasion. Get out the
really good stuff!’
Ostromír didn’t have time to interject before a woman showed up on the threshold. The one thing that struck Ostromír upon seeing her was that he was seeing a younger doppelgänger of his own mother. Her long red hair was only partially tamed by the kerchief she’d bound it with, and her eyes were the same deep brown. It stood to reason, however: Jároslava Rogvolodovná belonged to the same Koceľuk kin that Katarína and her own husband Teodosii did; a family resemblance was to be expected.
But the similarities ended there. Jároslava had thick, dark brows and somewhat sunken cheeks, which were offset by a deep, heavy jawline and a somewhat too-wide mouth. Her neck was thickly tendoned and her shoulders somewhat over-muscular. Clearly not a woman for every man’s tastes—but then, Jároslava did seem to have a kind of stubborn raw-boned grace that compensated for the starkness of her features. She had come out of the house with her apron billowing around her, armed for bear and ready for a quarrel.
But then Jároslava got a look at the king, dropped a hurried courtesy and a hushed ‘
Hospoď’, and then rounded on her husband with a somewhat modified complaint.
‘Why didn’t you
tell me it was the King, Feďa?’ she glared at her husband, though the corner of her too-wide mouth was twitching upward. ‘Rather important detail, that. Slipped your pea-brain, did it?’
‘Hold it, Jás! I
did say it was a
special occasion,’ the
Knieža griped good-naturedly. ‘And I told you before I
don’t appreciate you taking that tone with me, wench!’
Ostromír suppressed a chuckle. The bickering between these two was clearly a long-standing battle, and one undertaken for the sport and pleasure of it rather than out of any real enmity. Actually, watching how the two of them went into the hall together, it was clear that Teodotii and Jároslava were truly close—not merely the traditional cousin-spouses betrothed from a young age, but also lovers. Ostromír couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of the two of them. He and Imma were never that close—and not for his lack of trying, either.
Teodotii bade Ostromír take the seat of honour in the hall, while Jároslava served him a beverage. The smell was cool and familiar—it was damson wine, and that of a very fine quality. Each region of Moravia had its own version of the stuff; it had been
a traditional drink in Moravia Proper as far back as the reign of
Slovoľubec.
Teodotii raised his glass. ‘
Za dóvguju vlasť,’ he gave the loyal toast to the king.
As soon as Ostromír’s lips touched the beverage, he found that the draught was both smoother and stronger than what he was used to. It went across his lips easily enough, but it burned his throat as it went down. Jároslava refilled the king’s glass as soon as it was empty.
‘No breaks between rounds,’ she grinned.
‘That’s
my line, Jás,’ Teodotii growled. ‘As if I need a woman to help me toast.’
‘You need
someone to help you to bed after your bout is done, you lightweight,’ Jároslava teased him.
Now it was Ostromír’s turn to offer a toast. He could already feel his ears growing hot and red from the strong liquor. ‘
Za vašej dïvkej,’ he said. ‘
Naj oná stanet silnoj i dobrodoj; naj eï radosti dóvgimi, i eï trapenii kurtymi.’
Teodotii whistled and let out a laugh. ‘Do you hear that, Jás? Our
Kráľ can toast like an old tippler! So many fine and high-minded well-wishes for our baby girl.’
‘Should hardly be surprising. Giving toasts is the better half of a king’s job,’ Jároslava rebutted. But her voice sounded amused and delighted. ‘By the way,
Kráľ—what was in that great heavy sealed scroll you brought in with you?’
‘That?’ Ostromír slapped one of his thighs. ‘That—I brought as insurance. I didn’t have any idea what kind of reception I’d meet here, so I thought I’d bring Feďa a little gift, as congratulations on your lovely newborn.’
Ostromír reached over, unsealed the scroll and unfurled it for
Knieža and
Kňažná both to examine. It had been written in both Moravian and Russian, and it specified an entirely new and more prestigious set of rights and obligations for the Koceľuk’s chief honour. In effect—although Teodotii was allowed to keep the title of
Knieža, he was being given all of the rights and honours which the Silesian
Vojvoda had enjoyed for centuries.
‘Are you absolutely certain,
Hospoď?’ Teodotii asked, with a sudden seriousness. ‘These terms are far more than generous.’
‘Not at all,’ said the
Kráľ in earnest. ‘Your grandmother’s support meant a great deal to my father. And if either he or she had lived longer, I’m sure these same terms would have been presented to her. I see no reason why it shouldn’t continue that way between us.’
Teodotii lifted his glass at that. ‘
Za tovarišstvo!’
And he and the king drained that glass, and plenty more that evening.
In that way, Ostromír secured the loyalty of Teodotii Koceľuk. At least he hoped so. Between the personal visit and the gift of a new
vojvod’s contract, he hoped that Podkarpatská would be gruntled enough to remain faithful in the event of an open rebellion.
And open rebellion was sadly looking ever more likely. What little Ostromír could do to contain the peasant and townsfolk uprising in the Bohemian north, he had done; but Drahomír was still breathing smoke in the
Zhromaždenie. Evidently, Drahomír felt addressing the complaints from his own people about the high prices to be beneath his dignity, and he was beginning to call for tax relief from the Crown to redress the balance. Here he was stepping very firmly out of line.
Ostromír resorted to a measure he had hoped he would not have to contemplate. He approached his eldest daughter, Milomíra. Though she had a tendency to put on airs, she also had a degree of patience and goodwill that her father hoped would stand him in good stead.
‘Milomíra,’ Ostromír told her, ‘it lies in your power to help this family. If I ask you to, would you do it?’
Milomíra looked flattered. That was good. But she was still cautious. ‘As long as it is within the bounds of reason and modesty, Father. But I trust you wouldn’t have me step outside those.’
‘I would not,’ Ostromír told her, ‘though the proposition I have for you may sound a little strange. Would you consent to taking the hand of a boy
considerably younger than you are?’
Milomíra’s eyes narrowed. ‘
How much younger? As much younger as you are from Mama?’
‘More.’
‘
How much more?’
Ostromír sucked in a breath. ‘He is one year old.’
Milomíra pursed her lips in displeasure. ‘This alliance had better be a strong one.’
‘He is the half-brother of the Despot of Thessaly.’
‘Half-brother to a Despot?’ Milomíra crossed her arms and considered. ‘Well. Not a bad catch. As long as the Despot is aware that there wouldn’t be much chance of his brother getting children by me. By the time he is eighteen, I’ll
still be twice his years and more.’
‘He is aware.’
Milomíra gave a half-nod of her head, reluctantly. ‘Be it then as you will, Father. I will obey.’
Her assent had come not a moment too soon. The
zbrojnoši of Bohemia had already been raised around the vanes, and Drahomír was at their head. The rebellion of the Bohemian nobles against the king, followed quickly on the heels of the rebellion of the Bohemian peasants against the nobles.
So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye?