The Right Hand of the Karlings

[alscon]

Prologue - Nothing to see here

Welcome! You've made your way here, enjoyed the short stop at my torture chamber – wonderful place, isn't it – and now you are here. In the future centre of civilization! Oh, don't be overwhelmed. No need to be, actually. As for now...

Strassburg isn't exactly the City of the World's Desire. But just you wait! Give us a few centuries, and we'll be there.

Well, not as the capital of an empire, of course. We'll leave that in the hands of beloved Charlemagne's descendants. They are certainly perfectly suited for that. Can't imagine a reason why they wouldn't be. But every ruler is only as good as the advice whispered into his ears, isn't he? And this advice – it will come from us, from House Etichonen!

Speaking of which – I haven't introduced myself. I am Count Eberhard, from this proud dynasty. Even though I'm not it's head... we'll get to that later. Describing myself in two words? Well, obviously I am a 'genius visionary'! After all, I've already built countless things, including the torture chamber! It's a magnificent place, full of happy memories.

… don't listen to the slanderers who call me that.
(I'm a wrathful sadist, they say! Though they can't help but admire my architectural knowledge, at least.)
​

To achieve my goal, I will need to make good use of my resources. Gain strength within Lotharingia, build a strong base, then I can think further. Or at least my successors can. Because right now, the best way to strengthen the house would be for me... to die.

You see, my neighbour Liutfried of Sundgau is my heir. He'll probably have to continue my work. If he hasn't made a dumb mistake before! A 'treacherous absolver' – more slander, I'm sure!

...

...

...

… actually, there's a lot of work ahead. I'll talk to him, I'm sure he'll listen to my wonderful plan, perfectly suited to make us the foremost dynasty of the world.

And this here is my beloved liege.

… okay, 'beloved' is not the right word. It may be better if we stay out of each other's way. But he's a Karling and thus the rightful ruler! And as, for whatever obscure reason, everybody seems to hate me, we'll have to employ whatever measures necessary to keep him on his throne.

Kriemhild!

Yes, my liege?

Can you just... drop to a knee, first? Proper etiquette, my girl.

I can stretch people (though they don't like it), but not compress them. With my new spymaster, I've thought about it. Sometimes. Well, instead of compression I could always cut off her feet and part of her legs.

She wouldn't like it though. (And perhaps not survive, too.) Angering my spymaster – one of the few people who don't hate me, to boot – may not be a wise decision, though. Even if Liutfried would inherit my titles, I do like living. Most people do. She's competent enough, so I can live with her being taller than me.

She and Alois are literally the only ones with a positive opinion of me. Guess that being a 'treacherous villain' means you have a bad reputation.

I heard whispers that Lothaire's wife Teutberga is barren – is that true?

Considering that you hear it from me, my liege, I have no reason to doubt that...

Oh right. Anything else I need to know from court?

I haven't even returned snooping yet.

Silly me. If you think too much of the future, it starts being now. Don't you agree?

If you say so, my lord.

Either way. It would be safer for us if Lothaire had more children - one never knows how quickly the four of them can disappear! So find contacts in his court, and get rid of Teutberga for me.

Wha... the queen? I don't think you'll find many people willing to aid you, my liege.

Why not? She's just some stubborn pig. Doesn't even like her husband. Bet it's mutual, considering she's barren.

Don't you have no children too, my lord?

Different matter entirely! I never married!​

Suddenly, putting her on the stretcher becomes an appealing prospect after all.

Forgive me, Your Grace!

Very well.​

After all, I need her.

So, what's the problem?

My lord, well, how to put it... people can't understand your brilliance. Nobody wants to work with you. And besides... some are terrified of the queen.

Terrified? Ha! They should fear me!

They do, my lord. Just less than her.

Hm. Someone else then. Count Meginhard. He's with Liutfried in his silly little independence faction. Without him, Liutfried won't do anything dumb. Hopefully.”

As you wish, my liege.”

If he's a righteous antagonist, then it's surely also righteous to make him disappear, isn't it?​

Well, it doesn't look like I can do much for Lothaire right now. Save for maybe getting rid of one pest for him, though it will take time. Then again, loathe as I am to admit it, Kriemhild had a point.

Not hers, of course. I had no children for 52 years, I won't start getting any now! Not when my brilliant plan would be endangered by it! No, Liutfried will inherit my lands. Still, there are benefits to having a wife. Politically and... *ahem* domestically.

Well, I had my chancellor prepare a list of possible brides. And there are some great prospects available!

I mean, just look at Adriana! An enrapturing beauty, and a personality comparable to mine! An excellent match!

… if I was at least thirty years younger. And without my plan. Sweet Adriana, I am sorry. As an official reason, you are just some lowborn Vlach Orthodox, so our marriage will never take place. Also, it is rumoured she's a lesbian....


I could also go for a complementary personality. Judith would be perfect for that. Virtuous, smart... A perfect wife for any noble!

If she wasn't lowborn, that is. Oh, and I can't imagine coping with all that nagging when I go torture someone again. We'd hardly stand each other.


Well, if good matches aren't a good idea, then how about Elaiodora? Few people can listen to her lisping, she's incompetent, and she's a 'callous antagonist'!

Add to that that she's both a Greek Orthodox and lowborn, and she's not exactly wife material. Perhaps she could scare away petitioning peasants though...


Then again, I think I'll make another choice. Euphrosyne. Another lowborn Greek Orthodox, but what can I say? I like the exotic, and there aren't as many noblewomen available as I'd like. More importantly, she's sociable, knows her place, and is barren.

No chance for my plan to go wrong if I can't have any children.


And so, now that all is ready to go, it is time to put it into action. Centuries from now, people will talk about Count Eberhard, the man whose incredible vision made possible what they see today!






* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


So... with the release of CK III and my plans to take my Gothic beast-hunters to Stellaris on the shelf for now, I had an itch to write another AAR. The tone of it will be more light-hearted this time, as we'll see how Eberhard's plan is put into motion. As he said, my goal is to do whatever I can to always keep a Karling liege (I know - for many, that's evil in itself, so it's good that Eberhard's a treacherous villain), and be on his council whenever possible. He may become nothing but a powerless puppet, or he can cross my plans – who knows?

Either way, not having much knowledge of CK III at first will definitely help in making things more interesting at the start, though that may be counter-balanced a bit by being a CK II veteran. Besides, there are likely bugs which will perhaps interfere with the plans. So far, I haven't even unpaused yet.

What I can say with certainty is that I'm happy to have picked Eberhard (well-placed in the centre of Karling Europe) instead of an Irishman. For nostalgia's sake, I started CK III with the ua Cheinnselaig dynasty. And thanks to Tanistry, it turned into just the same glorious mess as my first CK II game, barely holding together the kingdom of Ireland. This time, I may not have gotten a Swedish idiot as king, but I have learned to avoid Tanistry like the plague for now. Hopefully the Etichonen are going to have some colourful characters in the course of this story. (For the Karlings, that's par of the course, so I have complete faith that they do not disappoint.)

While the intro is screenshot-heavy, the number in the actual chapters will likely be reduced in the future. Though I'll take it slow at first - for one so that Eberhard won't simply vanish having done nothing (which he'll likely do compared to his successors – at least I hope!), secondly to get used to CK III's way of things.

Like any other authAAR, comments are very much appreciated! Nothing better than some feedback to know if you are on the right path or should make some tweaks, write some boring stuff or have caused at least a small chuckle. Keeps an authAAr going too, so comment away on any AAR you follow!

 

[alscon]

Ch.1 – Expected Scandal​

Today is a great day. I got married. But that's just one of the reasons why it's a good day. Do I love Euphrosyne? Hah! Good joke. She may wish for many children, but I don't. Which is why I married her in the first place – and for the extra tax I could draw out of the peasantry.

Marriage does have plenty of advantages. Even if you don't intend to actually spend time with your wife. And can't even communicate.

Others would view that as complications, for me it's just another asset.

But no, there are different reasons. I found out that not everyone hates me! Alois and Kriemhild aren't just the exception, they are the rule! Nobility is overrated. Either that, or peasants are masochistic.

Also, have you noticed my nice helmet? Well, I'm wearing it because I am Lothaire's marshal. Impressive, isn't it?


…


…

That wretched king doesn't seem to think it is. “Vile vassal”. Well, I'm going to show him what a “vile vassal” is!

They say that Lothaire fired me because of Haesteinn of Montaigu's invasion. Said he needed someone he could trust with the defence of the realm, and not one who scares away the peasants.

What a failure of a pretext! The peasants love me! And even if I do scare them – better they are scared of me than of the vikings!

Lothaire reacted shocked, and didn't look back. I do believe he fears me now. For good reason, at least.

And my plan? Well, perhaps we can strengthen House Karling by culling the tree...

After all, that fool only has bastards. So King Louis of Italy stands to inherit. And he'll surely prove able to fend off some upstart raiders.

Even if he doesn't – Haesteinn doesn't target my lands, but rather Lotharingia, which Strassburg isn't a part of. Still, may Lothaire find his end quickly! I can't control a kingdom from behind the scenes if there is no longer one.

The plot advanced nicely. Though I do have to admit that my progress so far looks more like the work of a petty spurned lover instead of that of a vengeful murderer.

We've cut holes into his clothes. Lothaire hasn't been seen in public in any different way than seated for some time now, fearing critical clothing failure. I'm sure that's caused a few giggles at court.

We've spread rumours. The king's been exposed as plenty of unsavoury things. Satanist, cannibal, murderer, deviant, having strange fetishes, and never looking through a certain window of his castle. (Don't ask me, that last one seems to be very important.)

I don't know how true that is, but my utterly incompetent chancellor is definitely a cannibal. I was wondering where cut off body parts vanished to before I found out. One of my jailers blackmailed him – probably after he saw him licking a finger which wasn't his.

I always thought we fed it to the pigs. Not entirely wrong, my assumption.

Luckily, there's no need for a chancellor with actual skill.​

We've also gained a valuable ally. Queen Teutberga! Those terrified people may have been right to fear her after all. Then again, I am sure you can figure out why she joined my scheme.

Lothaire had taken a lover! A shocking affair!

...only it didn't surprise anyone, really. Those bastards didn't just materialize out of thin air. The queen was not amused, though. As soon as Waldrada was actually exposed, she joined my plot.

She may be a kindred soul after all. And I wanted to get rid of a potential ally! Though I still have to question her intellect. Did she really only notice after the birth of the fifth bastard that her husband had been unfaithful?

The only problem is that someone has been talking. Was it one of the rumours? Anyway, Lothaire knows someone's out to get him. Teutberga suggested another way in.

Which was just her way of saying that she'd like a quite hefty bribe. Woman, if you want new jewellery, ask your husband! What do you mean, you hate him? Well, he can't just neglect his queen publicly. He's busy fighting the vikings? As if! The fool just hides around in his castle, sitting around, leaving leadership in the field to people who aren't me!

He'd better be there, too. Haesteinn could do us all a favour and split his skull with an axe. It's not like the vikings haven't got all the momentum on their side, having crushed his army in Montbéliard (despite a clear numerical disadvantage) and in Veldenz. Utterly defeated him while he saw assassins in every shadow of his dark castle.

Unlike Lothaire, that got Liutfried killed. That could have been terrible news, he had no children. But no – it isn't the end of our dynasty. I could marry someone fertile after all. But I do like my current... uhhh... arrangement.

So it's good that his brother Hupold, another distant relative of mine and Count of Lille, inherited his lands. Even if he lacks strength of character, it's not a bad development. As long as he at least is getting an heir.

“My liege, I come bearing news.”

“Is that fool of a king finally dead?”

“No...” Kriemhild manages to look both disappointed and relieved at the same time.

“Then what is it?”

“He's declared himself head of house Cardaillac.”

“That doesn't make him less of a Karling.” I wonder what she wants to say.

“His new house motto is 'Love is Prosperity'.”

With that, I burst out laughing. What did the man want to do? Cuddle Haesteinn's army to death? Kiss the crops for them to grow? Hug stones for them to spontaneously form buildings? Convince the viking to go home after an impromptu orgy during which he leaves his wife at the invader's disposal?

The man's wife is complicit in a plot to murder him, for Heaven's sake! That motto is so deeply ironic, it's just...

'Love is Prosperity'.





It took a while for me to get a hold of myself. Kriemhild is still there.

“Anything else? Another good joke?”

“I... am afraid not.”

“That depends on your sense of humour. Out with it, girl.”

“Haesteinn stormed Nancy. Lothaire was taken prisoner, then surrendered.”

Not the punchline I expected. Still, I couldn't help but imagine him, sitting on his throne as if he's taken root, while the battle rages in the castle. Then, Haesteinn marching into the throne room, with Lothaire still seated. The viking pulling the resisting king away... only for him to reveal the king's holey clothes.

Ahhhh... to be a barbarian for once, just enjoying the sight of a 'civilized' king like that... wouldn't that be great? What wouldn't I give to have seen Lothaire's face in that moment, probably with Haesteinn and his men starting to laugh.

Still, uhhh, let's get back on track. He's still my liege after all, and just lost most of his lands. So, aren't we off to a good start? I wanted to protect House Karling, guide them to ever greater heights. And what happened?

The king fired me from the council. He decided that he prefers 'Cardaillac' to 'Karling'. He lost the majority of his kingdom to some viking warlord. And to top it all, I am plotting to murder him.

There's a lot of work ahead.

 

[alscon]

Ch.2 – Change of Plans​

You know how it is. You get stabbed in the right place (or places), then try to flee. But it drains your strength. You are noticed. And then, when you finally collapse from exhaustion, the vultures that are circling come down...

Well, I hope you don't know that feeling. Not personally. I don't. Caused it, sure. But well, long story short:

One Norseman never comes alone. Old saying. It took Hrörekr of Holland merely a few months to prepare. And then...

I could say that he invades, but no. He's devading. Is that even a word? It should be. Hrörekr is seeking his freedom from Lothaire.

I would have joined, if not for my plan. After all, the king is a useless fool with nothing but five bastards and a crushing defeat to his name.


'Love is Prosperity'.


...


...


I need to act.



Luckily, there are more descendants of Charlemagne who can take the helm of Lotharingia – even if they aren't named Lothaire (perhaps we could change the name then). Sadly, Charles the Bald of West Francia is busy in England and is in no state to help me enforce his claim.

But in every darkness, there's a light to shine the way. That's way I tell my involuntary guests in the torture chamber. It's true! With most of Lothaire's vassals deserting the man, he comes back grovelling at my door.

Isn't it great to read that letter? That painful admission of weakness? That recognition against every fibre of his being? What a treat.



I start acting as any decent steward would. Immediately abusing the office and embezzling from the treasury. What else is that office for?

Remember: Don't give people you don't trust access to the treasury.​

Unsurprisingly, Lothaire and most of his bastards are again captured in his capital, this time after resisting less than a year. He's also nearly run out of funds. I'm sure that's just a coincidence.

Either way, Holland, Guelders, Bern and Zutphen are free. Lothaire can count himself lucky that he's got a few vassals left. How long will that last, I wonder?

With my new, fully legitimate source of funds, I can reinforce my efforts to improve Strassburg. I also make perfectly clear to everyone that my word is law. It is MY domain!

…

…

Sadly, I can't extort the peasants even more than I do. Even these masochists can only take so much. I'd need a vassal of my own if I want to bleed him dry. Ugh. Well, then let's keep blackmailing people.



Speaking of which, Kriemhild is busy securing these opportunities. I do wonder if she's made any progress. And, speak of the devil, there she is!

“My lord, urgent news from Bar!”

“Have you uncovered something juicier this time?”

“That depends on your definition of 'juicy', my liege.”

I'm starting to rub off on her. Great. “Better than a penniless non-believer, at least.”

Lothaire already tried and failed to fend off one evil adventurer. He's likely to have more luck with this one.

“It certainly is.”

“Then out with it! Perhaps the Dauphin has an affair with the queen... I can already hear the gold filling my coffers!”

“Very different, Your Grace. It is about Lothaire.”

“Perfect! Is he dead yet?”

“A part of him.”

Have I changed her so much? “That's juicy, all right! Has Teutberga lost her patience and castrated him?”

Kriemhild is stunned for a moment, probably imagining the scene. That does suffice as an answer, both for my question and my thoughts about changing her.
“N-n-no... His crown.”

“His crown? Did she take his hair as a trophy?”

“It died figuratively. Lothaire is no longer your king, my lord.”​

That is something juicy. Turns out that a man who loses a whole lot of his kingdom while being holed up in his castle, worrying about holes, wholly unfaithful, with a holey treasury, is in quite the unholy mess.

Apparently I'm not the only one who has no respect at all for him. After the rebels effortlessly crushed him, we don't even need to raise our troops as his kingdom falls apart. Lotharingia is no more.

While that is mostly good, it brings a multitude of problems.


For one, my additional income is gone. A shame.


Secondly, I can no longer enjoy his squirming. I guess I could visit, but I don't think he'd give me a warm welcome (if he welcomes me at all).


Thirdly (and most importantly!): Where's my Karling liege?



I can at least change that last part. And while they say that you can't choose your family (and usually also your liege), now I can pick a liege! There are two candidates (three actually, but let's just forget about Bavaria. I mean, he doesn't even control Bavaria and will probably go the way of Lotharingia):

King Karlmann of East Francia.

And King Charles the Bald of West Francia.

East or West? Let's take a better look at our options.

Karlmann offers a culture close to mine. He's also my de jure liege, I suppose. He's also an excellent leader of men, completely unlike Lothaire. His personality is acceptable – a zealous ravener should be able to deal with vikings, at least – , and he even still bears the name of Karling! Overall, a good choice.

Charles? He's a stubborn theologian, fighting for his allies in England. Irrational quarreller sounds like something people may use to describe me (although I'm perfectly rational, thank you very much). He may have founded a cadet branch – Karling-Montereau – but at least it still has “Karling” in its name. (Either I haven't looked or I've forgotten – anyway, their motto can't be as ridiculous as “Love is Prosperity”!) His strength is comparable to Karlmann's. And of course, I've backed him for Lothaire's now vacant throne.

Looks like Karlmann may be the winning choice. But! My heir Hupold is Charles' vassal's vassal! If I were to swear fealty to Karlmann, then through Hupold's inheritance, my lands would fall to Charles anyway. So I did the right thing.

Yes, my liege, I think so too.

 

[alscon]

Ch.3 – Saving a Soul​

So, now I've got a new liege. Hopefully a better one. Can't really judge that yet, as he's currently touring Wales. Gives me more time to get used to my new situation, at least. And try to talk to my heir Hupold, convince him of continuing where I left off.

Hupold doesn't want to talk to me, though. Claims I'm responsible for Lothaire's downfall, (somehow) and that I try to bring down Charles next. Any attempt to explain that I can only claim very little responsibility (after all, a little embezzling is expected of a steward) falls on deaf ears.

At least my new chancellor Ferdinand found a man with whom I can talk. Doesn't live far, too – I just have to cross the Rhine and head south a bit. Guy looks like he's been in a few too many fights, but we've got shared interests.

A fellow friend of the rack. As he's quick to trust people, it must surely be because he enjoys it, like me!
​

Kriemhild asked me if we could call off the men sent after Lothaire. He's suffered enough, she said. Not enough, I answered. He's destroyed an entire kingdom from the top, left it to heathens and pseudo-Catholics! No, he deserves what's coming to him.

I've arranged a forged love letter from Waldrada, asking to meet her somewhere in the forest. Love is Prosperity, so Lothaire's sure to run towards her arms. Sadly, the only arms he'll find are ones holding clubs and bows. Enjoy, fool!

…

...

…

Turns out he's fast. And cowardly enough to have a retinue accompany him even to a very intimate occasion. Probably because it's hardly a secret any more. Still, I pity his poor guards, having to see that decadent fool fulfil his House's motto time and time again.

These men are apparently not traumatized enough (perhaps they even enjoy it!), and managed to capture my thugs. They immediately blurted out my name. Not that I care. Let Lothaire fear me until the end of his days! He deserves it!

Unlike Charles. He's just returned from Wales, and found his realm still intact. Which is more than Lothaire can claim. My good king also found a letter from yours truly. With Kriemhild's newest discovery. A truly great one – Hæsteinn's next plan!

The viking warlord eyes West Francia. But he estimates that Charles stands in his way. Turns out the king narrowly escaped some stray arrows in Wales – well, they weren't exactly stray arrows. Hæsteinn was responsible.

And as the viking didn't accept my offer (claiming Nancy was worth a try – if just to imagine Lothaire's expression as I take possession of his former castle), everyone knows that now. I'm sure Charles is grateful.

Hæsteinn, less so. So I'm improving Strassburg's fortifications.

The peasants are impressed. Perhaps they are imagining new ways of torture, as I hang people from these new walls. These masochists surely love that. I can't think of any other reason why they'd suddenly present me with a witch.

What a great present! The woman will serve me well. I needed a court physician – and they bring me a free one! As a bonus, whenever I can't be bothered to scare the peasants, I just need to send her on the walls with a huge pot and some unusual ingredients, instructing her to cackle villainously.

Unsurprisingly, bishop Radbot isn't amused. And complains even more than before. I gift him a wonderfully plush carpet in exchange. Somehow, he believes I have ulterior motives. Me? Never!

​

Kriemhild returns not much later. She always announces herself with a “thud” and some muffled curses. I know it was a good idea to put in an additional wooden beam on the ceiling before my personal quarters. So satisfying.

“My liege.”

“Is Radbot still not walking on the carpet?”

“He's trying to sell it.”

I answer with faked indignation. “He dares refuse a gift from his lord?”

“That can be an advantage.”

“I'm all ears.”

The years in my service are truly changing her for the better. Even if others would disagree. “One of my spies can buy it back – and pay him with some prepared coins.” She lifts a pouch.

Probably something Uta has prepared. I'm truly lucky to have subjects who know my tastes so well. “Go ahead. Anything new from Hæsteinn's court?”

“There's less going on there than a graveyard at noon.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean it quite literally. Hæsteinn's dead.”

He didn't get to enjoy his conquest too long, then. His two sons split the inheritance, so there may be a chance to strike there in the future. A righteous reconquest in the Karling name, of course.

I sent Kriemhild to East Francia next. So far, Karlmann's nobles were perfectly willing to pay to keep their secrets hidden. A win-win situation, really. (They may disagree, but who cares?)

With my coffers filling and my architects busy, after the peasantry it was the citizens' turn to send me a gift. I truly love my people, and they love me. Walram von Otakar makes for a perfect steward, replacing whatshisname. All that's left is Radbot, and I can be happy with my council.

Speaking of which – I've become even more popular amongst my subjects! Though admittedly, it wasn't entirely voluntary. While Charles (fairly successfully!) defends Christendom in Asturias, my efforts to help my local representative of Christendom to get closer to his employer advanced. One of Charles' men recently returned with some exotic friends, and one of these would be just perfect for Radbot.

Curiosity got the better of me though, and I opened the basket not far from the stall. Well... Strassburg's citizens won't forget the day their beloved lord entertained them with a snake on his head!

I assure you, I didn't look like that. Full of confidence instead, thank you very much.​

I love them, and they love me. Lothaire may have a point, though not the way he intends it.



That setback aside, my plans advance swimmingly. Hupold has set aside his concerns after seeing for himself that my people wouldn't want any other lord. While he's still very much Boudewijn's lackey, I think I am starting to influence him. At least I believe it is my good influence that made him finally conceive a child!

Before, he may have thought like me, that his death can only benefit his future plans. Strengthening Boudewijn at the Etichonen's expense! Such a stupid idea can only grow in a lapdog's head. I've got a lot of work ahead.

Yes, he's abandoned his heritage to please his lord, that coward. *sigh*​

Then again, I'm not getting any younger. It may be time to think of my soul's well-being. Torture, blackmail and murder may help me on Earth, but the priests insist that it is a sin. Perhaps they just want to avoid being murdered. That won't save you, Radbot.

Luckily, they offer a simple way out. No, not indulgences. I'm paying the church enough as is. If the cost of murdering a bishop counts. I mean a crusade! All you need for complete absolution is to bash in a few heathen heads! When Benedictus announced his plans, I immediately proclaimed my support. Not that my little heap of rabble can contribute much, but it does save my soul.

And where does the good pope want to send his crusade? To Lotharingia? After all, he claims that the time has become because the heathens threaten Christianity's heartlands. To Hungary, where the Waldensian heretics are running rampant? No and no.

I can only imagine Benedictus' way of thinking. Hæsteinn's spawn will be defeated sometime. Brittany has already enlisted Charles' help to drive them out of Montaigu, Lothaire's former kingdom will be in the right hands again soon enough. And Hungary? What's a Hungary?

So you may have guessed it already. Jerusalem it is!

But first things first. After the snake debacle, I've returned to the merchant. He provided me with a smaller being, and I could contain my curiosity this time. The people can only be entertained by their lord ever so often.

The spider did the deed. Radbot was dead, and the spider vanished in one of Uta's potions afterward. Radbot's successor?

A mad Slovien.

…

…

...

Time to leave for Jerusalem.

 

[alscon]

Ch.4 – Saving the People​

Before we're off, what does one need to crusade? Armour, weapon, helmet (finally I can wear that again!), right. But you're missing one very important part. Can you guess it?

If your answer is “hapless peasants”, then you're right! As my peasants are masochists, I'm sure I'll have around three hundred guys who will happily try to skewer Saracens with pitchforks and something resembling a spear in no time.

Or did you believe I'd take my guards with me? Ha! No, someone has to defend Strassburg. To that purpose, I've given instructions to my new witch Uta to a) not let bishop Zemislav get even close to my castle and b) keep preparing potions in plain view. Someone has to keep the peasants terrified if I'm not here, or they will start complaining.

My first volunteer isn't a peasant, though. I thought I knew a man who'd be perfect on crusade, and I'm right. Gottschalk! If you've forgotten all about him – I did, too. He's that kind of guy. A forgettable coward. As soon as I could give him the boot as Chancellor, the only times I saw him were when he's been staring at my torture chamber with a longing look.

That's why I remembered. And told him to come with me. I said “A crusade is like a buffet for you. All you can eat and more, far more!”

Gottschalk hasn't talked to me since. A few more knights to keep the rabble under control, and I'm off. We'll take a ship in Italy.

It's been an uneventful journey. But the arrival is a whole other matter. Just as we made landfall, my brave pitchfork-wielders and knights charge ahead. Leaving Gottschalk and me. I'm trying to get my stomach to deal with the fact that we're on land again – took me long enough to get used to the sea – and my cannibalistic knight tries his hardest to look busy doing anything but charging ahead.

The battle of Yaffa is over when I finally do arrive. To my surprise, the other lords congratulate me despite just being a latecomer and not even participating in the battle myself, my revolting stomach be thanked. Gottschalk ran off as soon as he heard the battle was over, probably to look for the tastiest parts, and another of my men comes to greet me.

Berthold von Aargau is bathed in blood. The other leaders of the crusade nod approvingly. They say that Berthold and his brutes wreaked immense havoc amongst the enemy, and the spirited charge of the Strassburgians carried the day. I think they may be selling themselves short to accommodate an old man, but it's nice being the centre of attention for once.

He's also wounded and killed six of the enemy's faris. All that while missing half the battle. Stay clear of Berthold, folks.​

My chancellor Ferdinand died, though. Well, no big loss.



Jerusalem is a nice city. Actually, nice is the wrong word. Holy. That's better. Even better is that it's MY city. At least for now. Thanks to Berthold's prowess, they left me in charge of the siege.

I celebrate by taking my prisoners either to the walls or the torture chamber. One of my new acquaintances tried to dissuade me by telling me her secret. Well, Simin... for once, I don't understand a word you say. What makes you think a proud Swabian can speak with an Arab?

Secondly, what do I care about infidel secrets? It's not like I can turn it to money or any other advantage. And thirdly... oh yes, thirdly. That's the best reason.

It's not like we all speak the same language from Iceland to the Pagan kingdom.​

We've marched around the Holy Land for another half year, before I decided to go home. It's too hot over there. That the Caliphal army had just caught up with us, separated from the rest of the crusaders because someone lingered too long around the battlefield, that's just a coincidence.

It is also a coincidence that said someone isn't on the ship with me right now. Yes, I ordered him to hold the line with all the rabble to leave an opening for me to leave. And I couldn't care less about his fate. But I'm sure he's fine.

Ahhh, back home. That I'm just accompanied by my loyal knights and none of the peasants can't come as a surprise. And anyone with a mind to complain just needed to look at Berthold and quickly thought better of it. That way, the cart laden with gold travels safe, too. Crusading really is great for both soul and treasury.

My loot... I mean, the goods which I so graciously saved from heathen hands... goes straight into pastoral lands. That's good for everyone. Feeds the peasants, thus honouring the sacrifice of their brave fellow masochists. It also fills my coffers and provides even more dispensable rabble. Win-win, as everything I ever do.

Then again, not everything is like before I left. There's a king of Lotharingia again. An upstart peasant, who calls himself Benoît Mercadier now, rose up against Jarl Ragnarr, cut off his arm and beat him up so badly that he died from the ordeal.

Sounds like a nice man. Either way, most of Lothaire's former heartland is back under Christian control, though sadly not a Karling's. But could anyone truly blame the peasant for not wanting Lothaire back on the throne? Nobody can. I'm sure he'll do a better job.

Speaking of which, the lords who rose up against Lothaire in the north didn't do much better alone. One viking after the other lands on their shores. I... am quite happy that I live so far inland that even the Norsemen don't venture on the Rhine here.

Talk of my wealth, both newly found and old, spreads rapidly. And so three people searching for a patron soon stood at my doorstep. I point at Uta, doing her usual ritual to scare the peasants. Then at Zemislav in the distance, doing... something... I don't even want to know... in front of the church. I don't even want to know. They understand quickly. I don't need anyone else.

A few weeks later, I'm in Paris. Kriemhild has discovered that I made the perfect choice swearing fealty to Charles, and I'm here to talk about that. Turns out we've got the same ideas concerning how to deal with annoying priests.

Don't look so shocked! You helped me off a bishop, too!​

Returning from the capital, I'm happy to say that Charles is a man you can really talk to. Between the curses and lamentations, I think he's happy to have such a capable vassal. Internal happiness. I can sense it. Sure, he didn't want to lower my taxes. But that's life, isn't it? Doesn't always give you what you want.

After my return, more good news arrived. Benedictus sent me... another cart laden with gold. The crusade was victorious! King Frotlaic At-Tafila reigns in Jerusalem now. I don't have a clue where they found that guy. Could at least have given him a European noble title first. And His Most Grateful Holiness thanked me for my great contribution.

Which can be summed up as arriving late for the great battle of Yaffa, leading the siege of Jerusalem and losing my peasants and cannibal in Tiberias.

Which is more than can be said of other people, at least.

In the same vein as before, the crusade's gold comes to benefit the people.

Those descriptions are just what I've been thinking.​

I believe I have done the best I could to strengthen Strassburg. Laid the foundations of what would become a great city. Yes, you know what's coming. I'm an old man. What did you expect? That I'd whip Charles and the other Karlings into... hmmm... ruling submission?... by myself? I know that it will take a while. I wouldn't put much faith in Hupold achieving it, either.

But he'll continue my agenda. His descendants will, too. And then, my great plan will come to fruition.

​

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And so, Eberhard's rule comes to an end. Has he laid the foundation for something great? We'll see with Hupold. And as I haven't continued more than a few months after his unfortunate demise, Hupold will be able to benefit from 1.1. Which is probably mostly important for Frotlaic, who may not turn Muslim.

 

[alscon]

Much work left to do. These Karlings can't be trusted muck things up by themselves. I trust his successor is up to the task.

One can never trust the Karling. As for Hupold, we'll see. He's a compassionate lackey, after all.

It's better to be feared than loved. Clearly, that's why you were given credit for the Crusade!

There are translators, of course, or there would be... if everybody wasn't so afraid of Eberhard.

Clearly. If he could go on another crusade, he'd just recruit a few bloodthirsty giants and be crowned king himself, probably.

Especially while he's enjoying himself in the torture chamber. No translators there if it's done for fun instead of information!


_________________________________________

Interlude 1: Hupold's Arrival​

Strassburg – no, excuse me, Strasbourg – surprised me. I came to inspect my inheritance. My old kin had died peacefully. I hear he's been a vicious man, but I've come to understand him. He's detailed his brilliant plan to me so often. Do I have a choice but to continue his work? Not really. Or he'd haunt me – my blood demands it.

Sure, him haunting the castle wouldn't be a problem – if I stayed in Lille. But Strasbourg – the city is rich. Very rich. Eberhard worked marvels there, even if his methods were... extreme. I won't return to Lille. I mean... The place is worth more than twice my three other holdings! I can't leave such wealth in the hands of a loyal follower while I live in a drafty old castle whose walls are slowly falling apart. Even if it means I live far from my liege.

​

The peasants like me, but less than the old man. I could blame my culture, but I truly wonder why? Did they like being semi-randomly abducted and tortured?

​

My good liege, Duke Boudewijn. He and old Eberhard would have understood each other. An exemplary man. People may say I follow in Eberhard's steps, but no. I follow Boudewijn's. Such a great man, an inspiring presence – he's made me embrace the same path. Turning away from my origins, embracing Charles' French culture.

(Both Boudewijn and Hupold probably went French because Flanders is, inexplicably, French. Also, Hupold truly is the vassal he deserves – a compassionate lackey for a content knave.
As an aside, he's intimidated by zero-dread-Hupold, so Eberhard's reputation must have made an impact.)​

I am also Boudewijn's marshal. Speaking of which, I've brought my own council with me to Strasbourg. But my spymaster is lacking skill. The old man told me his giant girl was quite capable. Like all others of his court, she was nowhere to be seen when I arrived. What could have caused that exodus? I sincerely hope it isn't me. Have I done something wrong?

She looks like a nice woman. Why did Eberhard employ her?​

Luckily, a giant can't hide very well, and I could convince Kriemhild to return in exchange for marriage. No, not me! The Lord knows I would never betray my marriage. People didn't understand when I married Elisabeth. Eberhard didn't, either. But what do they know? She's the wife for me. And she has given me a son! Raynaud, my beloved heir.

Spent your time hunting with Boudewijn, haven't you?​

I also hear that there's been a witch in town. She's vanished as well. Together with an entire village in the county of Colmar. Those two aren't related. I hope.

​

But before my reign in Strasbourg begins in earnest, here's a letter I found on Eberhard's desk. Addressed to “Boudewijn's lackey”. Must be me.

“Well, well. So you've survived me. Congratulations for doing what Liutfried couldn't. Now that you are the undisputed head of House Etichonen, it is time to grow a spine. To help you in dynastic politics, I've listed the houses of the men you need to pay attention to.

And by that, I don't mean licking their boots. Hm, makes me wonder if Lothaire has stopped fearing for his life and dignity... Anyway, I digress. All has been said about that failure's house. Take a lover, and I'll disinherit you! Yes, posthumously. The people in town can tell you that it's probably within my powers.”

Ummm... I... Not that there's anything to fear, but... the man already scared me in life...

“Let us take a look at my liege. Your liege's liege, I guess. A good man. Really. And unlike the failure, he's chosen an excellent motto for his branch – Vex not the Fox. Makes you think. He's not as stupidly blunt as Lothaire with his crazy ideals. The Karling-Montereaus aim for complicated schemes. Not to be sure of your victory. I like them. Really made the good choice in lieges.

As King Arnulf's main Karling house aims for honesty – and a connection to Lothaire's foolishness. I guess that makes them predictable – if they stay true to their motto. Always keep that in mind, Hupold. Stay true to our motto, Glory through Karlings, and you'll be fine.

Now, for what you need to expect, you lapdog – your liege has a somewhat skewed idea of an animal's main quality. “Cunning as the Horse” - I don't know about yours, but mine wasn't exactly known for its wit. Just take everything he says just like he says it, I guess.

The new guy, King Benoît – he's aiming to legitimize his rule, I believe. “Fidelity” - to what? Probably the kingdom, as he didn't aim to reinstate Lothaire (not that I blame him). He's dangerous, keep your eyes open.

I guess a good sign that you're suited to be a king is to be an evil paragon.​

As to Hæsteinn's spawn – no need to comment on that. Oh, right, it's you I'm writing to. So – let's just say that they could do with a lot more of what they seek. Don't negotiate.

I've said, or rather written, my piece. Keep my advice in mind, this one and all those before. And don't just hide beneath the Flandrian, act!”









*****************

As the late count has placed some emphasis on “Love is Prosperity”, it was time to take a look at the other houses, and the interlude served that purpose while also introducing the compassionate lackey, Count Hupold.

And with the Interlude done, Eberhard has fully said his piece. With him out of the picture, I'm going to aim for chapters covering a few more years. We'll see how well this goes .

 

[alscon]

Ch.5 – Hupold the Forgettable​

I set out to find the missing village immediately. Turns out that I... I... shouldn't have. That sight – it will stay with me for my whole life. Whatever happened there, I don't want to know. Was it the old man? No, Colmar has never been his domain. His courtiers' work, after their exodus? Is someone watching me in his stead? It's a terrifying thought.

I spent years reeling from that discovery. Years during which my wife bore me a second son, Herbert. During which Kriemhild told me that there are no secrets in Boudewijn's court (weird, I don't remember tasking her with that). During which I improved my other holdings, so that Strasbourg is not my only wealthy town. And during which Charles the Bald died, leaving his titles in the capable hands of his son Louis, the Stammerer. He's got the reputation to be a very scholarly man, who prefers not to pick any fights. I am sure West Francia will prosper under him.

In related good news, he hasn't got many sons, so partition won't hit his successor hard.​

My son and heir Raynaud though, he worries me. Always up to another prank. Escaping his mischief and freeing myself of the dark thoughts I still have from that abandoned village, I leave for a pilgrimage. I will see Rome.

Only that halfway, I am lost. Who said that all roads lead to Rome? They do not. After weeks of erring through the countryside, I finally found my way again – only to hear that Pope Benedictus, a man who was renowned for still behaving like a monk despite ascending to the seat of St.Peter, has only upheld a pious facade all these years. Instead, he holds decadent feasts.

I naturally condemn that act vocally, as expected of a good Christian. Suffice to say, I haven't been invited to any feasts while being in Rome. But the pilgrimage went very well despite these problems.

It ignited a spark of piety. I truly believe that. The good people of Brabant deserve the salvation of their souls, free from the tyranny of the heathen Norsemen. My good liege doesn't move against them himself, and neither does Louis. But they give me their blessing. I've entrusted Philippe with my men, and sent him to claim back the land for Christendom.

It has cost us a lot. But after four years, we've claimed Brabant. Most of it. Truly, it was not a war that will be remembered for its heroism. After my men marched into Brabant, Jarl Tyke's band attempted to lay siege to Strasbourg. Intimidated by its walls, they soon had to realize that they weren't enough to bring us to fall. Observing them from the castle, I believed Philippe would soon return.

I was wrong. He took Hainaut easily enough, but then King Benoît came. Claimed the county of Brabant as his, and attacked my army, currently laying siege. Philippe was forced to dodge Benoît for the whole duration of his conflict, until he called the county his own. And if that wasn't enough, other border counts attempted to claim Cambray as well.

Thus in my war to free Brabant from the heathens... My men spilled more Christian than heathen blood. Their only redemption may stem from converting the prisoners who were willing to, ransoming the others. The money will fall to good use in rebuilding the devastated region, especially the county of Cambray. In the end, there were more Counts fighting over that land than heathens defending it.

For example, the Count of Amiens. In related news, the whole region is Asatrú.​

But the worst was yet to come! The decadent Pope called for a Crusade to Lotharingia! I naturally joined. But then, my advisors... told me that all of my men's efforts in Brabant would be for naught if the war wouldn't end by the crusade's start. That couldn't be, could it? It was. So I did a difficult thing and withdrew my pledge to the crusade. Benedictus did the contrary of his name, and condemned me as impious, just as I had done to him before.

Thus, my war to free the poor souls of Brabant, waged in the rightful name of the Lord, saw my troops fighting more Christians than heathens, me withdrawing from the crusade, and declared impious. For doing the very thing the crusade wanted to achieve. The world isn't fair.

It is much better to just follow orders, and this is what I do since the conflict ended. The very same day we forced Tyke's surrender of the counties of Cambray, Hainaut and Antwerpen, my great liege decided to press a claim on Guines, having ended up in the hands of Queen Ermengarde of Italy through inheritance.

My claim. I pledged my assistance to my benevolent liege immediately, and am sadly forced to leave my men no respite as they join the Flemish army. Guines falls quickly, and my men head south to Ermengarde's capital, Turin...

Only for Boudewijn to deliver sad news in some minor tourney. I saw him brooding while we waited for the contestants. It turns out the reason was his failure to secure Guines for me – not because of our fault, but because of Louis claiming Italy as his own. We truly bond there.

Now, I have no influence on my men, who should be laying siege to Turin any time now. And it is not like I need to. Of course I will support King Louis. Not only because he is my liege, but also to preserve Karling rule over Italy – Queen Ermengarde has married some minor noble named Orso, and so the title would end up in Participazio hands! Luckily, my wise king saw the problem of his own and decided to act.

All I can offer is my support. What else can I do? I can't simply press my liege's claim on another kingdom on my own. Besides, isn't this what Eberhard planned? That we make ourselves indispensable to our Karling lords through loyal service? Perhaps he will reward me with a duchy of my own, as much as I'd dislike to leave Boudewijn's sovereignty.

Carolingian treachery in action.​

And focus on my domain. With my Steward Lothar's support, I am building quite a nice place here, enlisting master masons to work for me.

While Philippe leads my men against Italy – no doubt he will be surprised that it is the French, and not the Flemish banner to reinforce him! – I reinforce my bonds with Boudewijn, betrothing my daughter Mafalda to his grandson Karel. May our houses be united for a long while. In that vein, I am also sending Raynaud to the Flemish court to become Boudewijn's ward.

Thanks to him and my rule over Lille, I became French. I attempt to convince the local populace here in Alsace to adopt that culture as well. We are part of the West Francian kingdom, after all. While the people of Strasbourg eventually follow my lead, the peasants of Sundgau don't respond well to my convincing efforts. Perhaps they would need a more forceful attempt? In any case, it is not what I would do.

As I attempt to convince Count Hervé of Boulogne of our liege's benevolence, Philippe returns. With great spoils of war, though naturally (sadly) with less men. He recounts how he was captured by the Italians in Provence, holding the ground long enough for Louis' army to prevent the Italians from fleeing. My men seized multiple holdings, took important prisoners and ransomed them. Thanks to their support, Louis won this conflict fairly quickly, adding another crown to his titles.

My siege engineers deserve a lot of credit.​

I am proud of my troops' contribution. As another sign of my goodwill, I send Herbert to Louis to be his ward.

Little did I know that this would be my last contribution to a great rule. A few months later, overseeing yet another batch of construction projects, I felt myself growing weaker and weaker. Too weak. My time – it comes to an end. And that although Raynaud is not even a man grown yet! But – I know that Boudewijn teaches him well. Our house task will continue with him.

I just hope that he knows his place, just as I did. Everything else – it only brings trouble.

******************

And so, we've gone through Hupold's time as our dear protagonist count in one chapter. Why are psychos always so much easier to write?

That might be because Hupold's just that kind of guy. You may spend some time with him, but at most an hour later you've forgotten all about him. He just... existed. That he didn't lead his men himself didn't help.

Young Raynaud is hopefully different. He's not yet grown up, but described as a righteous atheist. And he's got his little bro to squabble with over the inheritance.

 

[alscon]

Ch.6 – Birthright​

First off, I noticed that Lothaire has no legitimate heir, has become a seducer and has seven bastards with Waldrada – who has married the thirty-three years younger King Ludwig IV of Germany. Love may be Prosperity, but that house will die out. I can hear Eberhard snickering.



I am now truly the new Count of Strasbourg, Cambray, Antwerpen and Sundgau. With my sixteenth birthday, my liege Boudewijn declares my education complete. I have been a good student. In his eyes, the model of chivalry – temperate and just, as well as a competent leader of men.

As I am scratching my dog behind his ears, taking place in my late father's quarters upon my return from Bruges, I must admit that he is wrong. Not completely, for the chivalric pursuits are truly mine. Save for an unwavering faith. Too often have I seen the church merely as a vessel of one's own ambitions, be it the priest's or the nobleman's, to trust in it.

Declaring people heretics, launching crusades – all that only to gorge oneself on the finest wine, paid by the tithes of the peasantry. This isn't justice. No man can tell me that he protects my soul if he is such a sinner himself. No, the church is dead to me. But not without its uses, I must admit. They can count on me playing my role in this world, but I won't believe them.

I need to take a pragmatic approach to ruling. My father feared making his own decisions, and was left disillusioned when he did. I will not walk his path. I shall build connections, strengthen my just rule and lead my men into battles. To expand my protective rule and work towards old Eberhard's dream.





As such, it shouldn't come as a surprise that my preferred weapon is the mace. Nothing says “smite injustice” like crushing it with a mace. I also won a betrothal to Péronelle, the daughter of Prince Carloman. A powerful landholder in his own right, this alliance will certainly prove useful to both of us.

I have been studying up on ancient conflicts, the Second Punic War in particular, as I sent my corrupt, incompetent bishop to Maastricht. In order to prepare my first war. Is it hypocrisy to stand for justice if I make use of such methods? No, it certainly isn't. Aggression can be justified – just as it is in my case. The Dutch are being overrun by the vikings. Duchess Gurli of Holland may descend from one, but these raiders know no pity. I have to step in, and place the peasantry under the protection of both me and King Louis.

I can't count on the Church as a whole. Pope Benedictus only cares for his personal glory. With the success of the crusade for Lotharingia, he believes central Europe pacified for the Catholic church. What immense stupidity. Apostolic heretics have taken over just on Cologne's opposite site of the Rhine, vikings have taken over most of the lowlands. And he wants to march on Jerusalem.

In the end, my hope for humanity isn't dead yet. Benedictus was forced to call off his crusade for lack of participants. While I lecture my men on honour, train aggressive tactics with Mayor Magnus and put mercenaries in their place to prepare for my war of protection – if that fool Guichard manages to convince enough people of my right to do so this century – the world shows the Pope that we aren't just tools of his narcissism.

It isn't like my close family does much to uphold that faith. I don't know what Herbert is up to in Lille, but Mafalda has already caused a scandal in Flanders by birthing a dead mayor's bastard. I may be Boudewijn's chancellor, but I can hardly defend such misbehaviour! All I can do is hope that my marriage will be a better one.

She even revealed it herself! Is she trying to make my life harder?​

Although I already sense that I will spend most of my life in the field. May it in my own endeavours, or in my king's. My preparations though, they fail. Twice now I have been unable to put Magnus' tactics into practice. And time ran out – I am marching my men to support the Stammerer's claim on East Francia.

Or will I? As I lay siege to Speyer, I am forced to rethink my plans. For once, Duke Boudewijn has died, his three duchies split among his sons. My poor brother lost two of his counties to accommodate the new dukes of Brabant and Alsace – which leaves Boudewijn II in charge of my home duchy. While only controlling Colmar personally. Which rightfully belongs to my family.

Secondly, that dunce Guichard finally convinced enough people in Maastricht that they are better off under a lord who can actually protect them. Although it costs me a lot to prove my goodwill, it is worth it. So, three options, each one worth consideration.

I stay in the Rhineland. The other opportunities won't run away, while King Louis is fairly old. It turns out I am not the only one thinking pragmatically. The remaining heathens in Cambray think me otherwise occupied and rise up as I am forced to retreat from Worms, as Louis' men didn't support my foray. I am of a mind to teach the peasants a lesson, and we annihilate them swiftly.

As the King's men yet again neglect to offer their support as I engage the East Francians, merely a day's march from their position in Freiburg, I've had enough. The old man can win his war on his own! Magnus got captured too, so I can also forget about practising aggressive tactics. Ugh...
My father may have had a point when he said not to take initiative.




But what kind of lord would I be if I thought like that? If one only waits for crimes to punish them instead of actively preventing them, one can't rightfully be called a lord, a protector of the common folk! Thus, when my father-in-law wrote, not to congratulate me on the birth of Aymar, but to ask for my support in his claim war, of course we marched west.

That's more like the experiences I want to make. After a few, unchallenged sieges, Carloman could enforce his demands, grateful for my assistance. Re-motivated, I joined Louis' army again, with special emphasis on preventing encounters with the enemy.

Not that it would take long. I am forced into a reaction. More than five years now I've been mostly campaigning, so I hardly ever saw Boudewijn II. And if everything goes according to plan, I will only have to see him once more. Karel of Flanders claims the duchy of Alsace. I can't let him. Colmar is part of my ancestral lands. I shall take it back, and also renege my bond of vassalage to the van Vlaanderens.

Right makes might, and they had no right to simply seize my house's lands just to appease my old guardian's second born. House Etichonen will only answer to the king. And then guide him, just as Eberhard planned.

​

Boudewijn is powerless to resist. He hardly has any men, and the local populace supports me, their rightful lord, as well. Before Karel's army even overcame the walls of Cambray in the north, he is forced to recognize that there no longer is a duchy he can claim as his own – something he can hear right out of the former duke's mouth.

Shortly after I can claim only to answer to Louis, he adds another crown to his titles. King of West Francia, Aquitaine, Italy and East Francia – there's a little hope he may be able to reunite Charlemagne's empire.

Only a little one though. Merely ten days after his confirmation as King of East Francia, Louis dies. Save for Italy, King Carloman, a competent administrator, succeeds to him. There's hope that he can continue where his father left off.

And my poor brother died of wounds taken in Karel's service. Robbed of his lands, robbed of his life – may he rest in peace.​

 

[alscon]

Ch.7 – Conquest​

My birthright claimed, Carloman offers me a position just like Eberhard imagined – I become his steward. Thankfully, that position comes with coverage for all kinds of expenses, as the royal treasury is quick to declare its full support of the steward's endeavours.

Others may call it “embezzling”, but no – what I am doing is entirely within the right of the law.

Besides, I am using this gold to pay for the expansion of the realm, as I send troops to protect Maastricht. Duchess Gurli can only muster a few dozen men, so I don't expect much in ways of resistance. The people should be happy to finally be protected from the vikings.

The Dutch are probably disappearing. In any case, they've already converted to their conquerors' faith.​

While things look like they are good, thankfully there's no faith in god left that can be shattered. I can already hear the priests: “He gives and He takes.”

My new ducal title feels hollowed out by Péronelle's death in Alphonse's birth. And my dog's death, too. Still, life has to go on.

And what do I get for my new ducal title, which should be the best part of what's happened to me lately? If your guess was “an invasion from Flanders”, then you're right! Karel decides that his war, declared on his now unlanded brother, was never invalidated. No need for another declaration of war.

That's one of the worst perceptions of law I've ever heard. Doesn't stop his armies from marching south, though. I am forced to react.

Newly single, I can't call upon Prince Carloman, but I am free to seal new marriage alliances. So I win a betrothal with the daughter of Duchess Regelinde of Anjou, Oneka, and betroth my heir Aymar to Duke Raimond of Toulouse's daughter Isabella. Both were eager to seal an alliance with another powerful duke, though with Regelinde preoccupied fighting in Neustria, I only call upon Raimond.



I plead my case for that unjust war-revival by Duke Karel, and King Carloman partly obliges. Claiming he can't take sides in a conflict between his vassals, he nonetheless transfers Count Gerold of Breisgau's vassalage to me. I could say that he's part of my Alsatian duchy anyway – and that he's nearly dead after being brutally mauled – but I prefer to take this as a good sign that Carloman respects justice.

Or is he simply bringing that dishonourable villain to justice?​

With my men already present in Maastricht, we could harass Flanders easily enough to prevent Karel from truly dedicating himself to marching on Alsace, though when he did, he could intercept the Toulousain reinforcements. They finally did arrive though, giving me the chance to defeat him and his allies in Antwerpen.

Interestingly enough, some Asturians fought on my side. A nice side effect from Karel reviving the war. These people have honour. The Flandrians couldn't recover from their defeat, and so I manage to force their surrender. Shortly after, Gurli abandons her futile effort to cling on to Maastricht, having been utterly unable to profit from my distraction.





I can, at last, enjoy peace for a while. Rebuild Maastricht to fulfil my promise of protection. The nearby viking lords aren't pleased, and so Jarl Ragnarr of Gelre sends me a magnificent carpet. That's suspicious. After all, I just prevented him from another easy conquest, or at least a raiding target. I better get rid of it.

The peace lasted mere five months. Then Carloman wants to enforce his reign over Italy, attacking his young half-brother. A war which looks fairly straight-forward, as King Gilles can hardly muster more than a few hundred men. Far closer is my vassal's conflict, as Countess Osterhild (unsurprisingly, Gerold didn't live long) tries to seize Zürich. She seems to have the upper hand. I join Carloman to finish the conflict faster.

You know what they say. No plan survives contact with the enemy. This time, I don't even need to speak of a battle plan. The political situation shifted drastically. Because Gilles' regent is a strategic and diplomatic mastermind. He betrothed the boy-king to the Dowager Empress of the Byzantine Empire. Falashina is 42 years old, and thus the chance for their marriage, should it ever come to fruition, to be blessed with children is minimal. But this betrothal brings the might of the east. Our armies had crossed the Alps basically unopposed, but things are about to get difficult.

The King may still have the upper hand, but the vultures are already circling. Prince Carloman, my former father-in-law, bides his time with a strong faction backing him. Boy-king Ludwig of Bavaria's regent doesn't have that patience and attacks for East Francia's crown. King Carloman's priorities shift to preservation of his titles, and thus he marches north to meet Ludwig's forces. I remain in Italy, at least for as long as the Byzantines haven't arrived.

Being in Italy – and not having given in to the Waldensian heresy, taking root in West Franconia – I used the opportunity to meet with the pope. Exchanging meaningless platitudes, I convince Urbanus that my lands, bordering the newly heretic Duke, are in dire need of funds. That is the use of the church, and it is a truly sad state of affairs. While Urbanus accepts my demands, he also tries to win me over to participate in the coming crusade for Jerusalem.

I am baffled by that line of thought, and must prove a lot of self-control to not be excommunicated. The church isn't just corrupt, it is also unimaginably stupid.

Vikings overrun the north, Slavs are strong in the east, Muslims threaten Asturias. And most importantly, the great Christian realms are at each others' throats. Who in his right mind sends his men to die in a desert for a futile, at best short-lived kingdom in such circumstances? Nobody, that's who! Save for Urbanus.

What happens next would convince most other men that what they are thinking is wrong. That the church is truly the divinely appointed guardian of mankind. Hmph. Lesser men, I say. More likely is that that immensely stupid fool with the mitre poisoned me for declining to join his idiotic venture east.

And that Adalbert then tried to prove his worth by taking on the Byzantines, only getting himself captured and my army battered in the process – a logical consequence of my illness, forcing me to return to Strasbourg. Has he been following my order of trying to win the conflict before the Byzantines arrive? I shall never know.

For now, all that's left is to recover, levy new troops, and then set out to the field again. Or am I forgetting something?

*thud*​

Who's that? And what was that sound? I don't need to question myself for long, as a woman enters my chambers. Who... oh, right.

I am a married man again. Duchess Regelinde of Anjou's daughter Oneka. I... didn't know she was that tall... There must be something about this place attracting giant women. She fell victim to that additional beam whose purpose I've never understood. Apparently, it is low enough for her to hit her head.

I've heard that Count Eberhard was a sadist, so he's likely responsible. Poor old Kriemhild must have suffered.

In any case, the Duchess and I have much to gain from the alliance, as we have more things in common than the first letter of our duchies. With Anjou and Toulouse on my side, I am allied to the most powerful lords in West Francia and Aquitaine.

But, as usual, just as things are looking up, with my recovery from that papal miscreant's poison, they are getting worse. Far worse. Together with Flanders and some other lords, my steadfast allies are attempting to place my former father-in-law of West Francia's throne. All that while King Carloman is fighting the Byzantines, Italians, Bavarians and the latter's newest allies, the Scots.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the peasantry in Antwerpen thinks once again that I am preoccupied by my wars and rise up.

It is enough to make a man snap. My commanders do. And, unable to calm them down, I decide to vent some frustration beating up my loyal men. And I must admit, it feels good.

While I could never imagine turning into such a person, I can at least understand the appeal of villainous sadism a bit now.

Gilles' regent's brilliant political manoeuvring brought Falashina to Issoudun and from there into my hands, as I've now taken the King of Italy's capital a third time. Not that it matters much, for he has married the daughter of a late Venetian Doge. Basileus Sergios' troops remain in Italy's defence. At the same time, news reach me from East Francia – most of the lords there rose up in a bid for independence. I just... I... ugh...

The Dowager Empress asks me what I shall do with her. I reply that I don't care. I don't care about anything any more. At all. It all crumbles to dust anyway. No matter what I do, what I may achieve, the next generation will tear it apart and periodically bleed out on the sands of the Holy Land anyway. Just... leave me alone for a while. Go! Away with you!

It took Raimond three years, then he forced Carloman to relinquish the crown of West Francia to... Carloman. My former father-in-law. I am forced to recall Péronelle – what could have been if she had survived? Well, logic dictates that things wouldn't have changed much, seeing as I'm engaged in King Carloman's wars anyway and thus couldn't rise up for her father's claim even if I wanted to. I do have that much honour.

The new King of West Francia declares himself to be from House Barrois. “Be Courageous”. Wise words, in these trying times.

I don't recall where I've lead my troops next. One siege is like the other. At some point, it just starts becoming routine. Gruesome war – just another day for me. And Louis was so close. So close to be able to call himself rightful successor of Charlemagne. As a distraction between sieges, I've begun to think of the next generation, those who can tear down everything I've done.

With Duke Raimond slain in battle against the Scots, who now have provided the Bavarians with the clear upper hand, I consider Aymar's betrothal null and void. Looking for further matches, I arrange some, only to break them shortly after because I reconsider the situation. Is that truly the man I've become? Just some warlord leading his men from siege to siege, acting on a whim? I can only hope my people do remember who I really am – or was, at least.

One of Aymar's matches was the sister of Duke Hereswind of Savoy, independent since Lotharingia crumbled under Hæsteinn's assault. I reconsider due to the man who provides the Holy Land's soil with fresh blood. Hereswind is a mere boy with vile manners. And for a just cause, the methods one does employ – they can be forgiven.

Once again, I make use of the corrupt church. Urbanus acknowledges my claim. Instead of wasting time and lives on a more and more futile effort in East Francia, I march to Savoy, sending word to Duchess Regelinde for assistance.

Hereswind hires Catalan mercenaries, but by now I am commanding war-hardened veterans, most of whom have accompanied me for eight years, ever since Carloman attacked Gilles. After taking Besançon, we crush the mercenaries, in Gray and Strasbourg. The road to the mountains is wide open.

Or is it? The old King Carloman died, leaving his eight-year-old son of the same name in loads of trouble. The Muslims have begun to see the weakness and attacked in Africa. But most importantly, the Bavarians and their decisive Scottish allies enforce their terms. East Francia's crown goes to King Ludwig IV.

And with it, my duchy. I can protest as much as I want. That those are my lands, my heartland. That besides Alsace, I only own three counties devastated by vikings. Which aren't part of Aquitaine either. That I hold true to my vassal's oath no matter my liege. That doesn't matter for the Bavarian. My duchy is seized in my absence.

Now I am truly just a vagrant warlord, unjustly robbed of his lands.

But I shall have my revenge. I will take my lands back. Even if this is the last thing I do.

 

[alscon]

Ch.8 – Valleys and Peaks​

My revenge starts with the man responsible. King Ludwig IV of Bavaria. Or the VI of East Francia. How you want to call him depends on your stance on regnal numbers.

He employs unjust methods. So I do as well. I would issue a challenge to single combat, but I doubt that plea would fall on anything but deaf ears and royal guards. No, I have to make use of something detestable. Unsavoury, even.

But as I said before – the end justifies the means. If the end is just. And it is! It truly is. I... I just have to... keep my cool. Stay myself. We will. Achieve. A just. Action.

As I lay siege to Moutiers, the king's regent is kind enough to remind me that I am actually not a mere vagrant warlord. With Alsace and thus most of my power lost, he assigns me as a vassal of Duke Karel of Brabant – yes, exactly, the same man who tried to seize my duchy before.

He may be in a similar predicament to me – having lost Flanders and only holding Hainaut in his name – but still, I am livid. I still command over 1.500 men, and am currently expanding the King's reach! The crumbling kingdom should not underestimate me. I will not forget that slight.

Before I plot my second revenge, my first and most important one nears its conclusion. King Ludwig is a hated man. I am clearly not the only one he has slighted with his tyranny. I thus feel confident enough to clear my conscience – or at least keep my knightly honour as much as I am able to. Through my agents on place, I announce that Ludwig will die within the year.

He is spooked. Almost discovers Countess Adalinda. Almost. Justice is carried out swiftly enough, as my hired executioners deal with him, fittingly as he travelled back from Alsace, where he just installed a few useless fools to replace me. I can only hope they don't do too much damage.

Ludwig's underage son, now King Ludwig VII of East Francia, succeeds him. One day, he will return my lands to their rightful ruler.

As Moutiers falls, Duke Hereswind's regent panics. He tries to bring in any kind of ally to evict me, and finds the fearsome Scots. But it is too late. The Scottish army, still battered from the long war for dead Ludwig's crown, is still days away from Hereswind's men as I engage them in Geneva, Angevin support nearby. The Scots turn around. The Savoyards are beaten - or to put it in other words: I become Savoyard.

The Pope may have given me the claim on the duchy, but I don't seize it for the church. I seize it for the people of Savoy. And for my revenge.

But for now – I can let my men rest awhile. Just as myself. Take in the sight of my new home. Hopefully not a permanent one. Not that Moutiers is a bad place. The town nests safely within the valley, and the surrounding Alps are a majestic sight. But the people of the mountains are a hardy sort, for good reason. There's no important trade route leading through here. There's not much arable land. There are no mines, only a fairly small quarry. Incomparable to the wealth of my lost home.

With the independence war against Carloman II ending, I am also almost officially at peace – I will definitely not send anyone else to Italy. How Aquitaine shall hold on to these disparate holdings in Bohemia with the Slavs next door is another question. Myself, I plan to be on good terms with at least one of my new neighbours, and settle on a betrothal of Aymar to a daughter of Duke Bérilon of Provence.

​

Before taking up arms again. For four months, I knew relative peace. Even completely, as King Gilles signed a white peace. Then, I had to honour Duchess Regelinde's call to arms. Where would my honour be if I didn't join my mother-in-law, key ally in reclaiming a ducal title? As I lead my veterans to Neustria, the Aquitain crown's authority crumbles even more, as half the vassals claim more liberties.

That conflict didn't last long, thankfully.​

Ever since Louis' death, the kingdoms of Europe are burning, and it doesn't stop. By myself, I cannot restore order everywhere. Carloman of West Francia puts more kindling to the fire, as he tries what destroyed his namesake's crowns – claiming Italy. But without his genius regent pawning him off as alliance material to the Byzantines – and himself married – Carloman succeeds within little more than a year.

A shame he's an old man himself, or he could dream of restoring the realm his brother Louis ruled.

As I slowly grow accustomed to – sadly –, it seems I cannot know long-standing peace. My siege veterans were highly useful in Neustria, but instead of returning home, I had to crush the peasantry in Brabant again. The Savoyards have been far more accepting. There's been a good reason why I felt like a nomadic warlord. Perhaps Savoy can be more than a secondary home.

The church, in the meantime, hasn't been twiddling its thumbs either. Another scandal involving the Pope – this time torture –, another outbreak of heresy – Waldensians –, another “legitimate” claim appearing out of nowhere. According to my bishop Clotaire, Lyon belongs to me. Never mind that my family never held land anywhere close to there before I seized Savoy, it is legitimately mine.

How can anyone take the church seriously like that? I told Clotaire of my intention to place Lyon under my protection, and thus also under Aquitaine's crown's – crumbling as it may be, I will do my best to strengthen it again. And the bishop brought me a claim.

Unsurprisingly, the Dauphin won't just hand the county over. It is true, Lyon belongs to his duchy. But I can dispute that claim. And if I've learned anything in the last decades, then it is that a disputed claim belongs solely to the strongest. Which is why I need to be the undisputed ruler of my lands, and which also is why I can challenge the Dauphinate.

Our armies meet in Villars. Guilhèm's ranks are bolstered by mercenaries, and he can thus count on almost twice my men. Still, I remain confident in my abilities and have faith in my men. And indeed, we carry the day. The cost could have been much higher, especially as my son Alphonse got wounded in the fighting.

That's probably the pinnacle of my military career.​

Not wishing to risk my men's lives more than necessary, I call upon Regelinde's assistance once again. This alliance truly is worth a lot for both sides. But as Guilhèm moves to relieve Lyon, the Angevin army is not yet here. Once again, I manage to hold him off, with Aymar taking a severe hit. This time though, the Angevins appear to cut off his retreat. It is a slaughter, and only a matter of time until I seize Lyon.

Carloman II's regents seem to grow weary of my efforts. The previous insult is not forgotten, and they add another one, rescinding my appointment as chancellor. Or perhaps it is the boy himself who is responsible. Putting me “in my place”, as he is defending my unruly lands in Antwerpen from yet another viking incursion as Jarl Ingjald invades. If he wasn't preoccupied with Muslims, that is.

I snap again as Lyon becomes my county. While we've sworn to serve the Karlings, we never specified which one. I proclaim to support West Francia's right to the Aquitain throne. Carloman II has shown himself unable to do anything right. And he's nearly of age, so youth is not an excuse. I name Alphonse as Count of Antwerpen and prepare to once again enforce a disputed right by might. This is the way of the world. It forced me to battle. And so battling I shall.

According to Clotaire, for the whole of Viennois as well. My campaign against Guilhèm has proven my worth. Recognition of the claim doesn't come cheap. Nothing ever does if the church is involved. *sigh* But it will be worth it.

And then, King Carloman – the old one in West Francia – died. His son, Charles, ascended the throne as the third of his name. Although he's gravely ill, his father's claim passed on to him. Interestingly, he is no longer King of Italy – the title is forfeit as the Italian lords no longer answer to the ever-changing Karling crowns, no longer wish to serve as a battlefield due to going to the weaker son.

I can only blame their lack of loyalty towards their rightful liege, not their sentiment per se.

Charles III has the great pox – looking at it positively, it might mean that he won't have many sons to divide the inheritance.​

Carloman starts seeing the threat I pose against him and wants to appease me with an appointment to his council – as spymaster. Does he know that I orchestrated Ludwig VI's demise? No, certainly not. It isn't an office for me, anyway. This reinforces my point of just being presented as a distraction. No, I rise up to claim the title for Charles.

Duke Antso, Regelinde's heir, joins me – as does Duke Guilhèm of Languedoc, a welcome surprise. According to my scouts, the crown of Aquitaine can't even muster 300 men. Victory should be assured – it is scandalous that Carloman chose to fight. Pointless deaths. Or does he have a plan like Gilles in mind?

No, none of that. Out of spite (I can't imagine another reason), he surrenders Antwerpen to Jarl Ingjald, then hides away at the head of his handful of men as peasants rise up, too.

I must truly thank Antso for prioritizing my war to oust Carloman instead of the own conflict he's embroiled in. Neustria, thirsting for revenge, seized the opportunity. Luckily, I will be able to repay my fellow Duke's faith in me, as the capture of the King's keep and sole daughter means his surrender.

With West Francia and Aquitaine reunited under one King, the future looks a little brighter. Charles, grateful for my support and recognizing my ability, names me Marshal and assures me that my family's titles are guaranteed to remain within our hands, no matter what shall happen.

Invigorated by my fealty, he vanquished the Great Pox!... As if. He must have a good physician.​

Now, I march to save Anjou. And hope that deposing Carloman saved Aquitaine – at least until the next succession.

 

[alscon]

Ch.9 – Triumphant Return?​

As Marshal, I am leaving my men in (hopefully) trustworthy hands this time. There is no necessity to show bravado like Adalbert did against the Byzantines, but Neustria and their Wessexian allies are not to be underestimated. I think I made myself perfectly clear in that regard.

What I didn't count on was the foolish crusade. It distracted both Anjou and Wessex, with both lords unable to truly decide on a focus. For some months, they were present in the region, then they left again only to return afterwards. I don't think they saw any battle in the Holy Land – but what it did was making my men face the Neustrians alone for quite some time.

It would be so much better for peace if Anjou held Maine and Neustria Évreux, but things weren't meant to be that way.​

Myself, I had to focus on another matter. Keeping the king's men strong. And then, Aymar, having recovered from his wound, tries to show me how much he has learned and challenges me.

With my trusty mace, I dispatched him and his flail quickly. But he's not bad. While I worry for his qualities as a ruler – making sound judgements – he looks like he'll be able to hold his own in a fight. And his choice of weapon distresses me.

Myself, the honest, straight mace to smite evildoers.

He picks up the flail, bypassing defences with a wicked ball while still appearing to carry on my legacy.

Perhaps I'm reading too much into this.

What I am sure to read correctly is Charles' decision to fire me as Marshal. A simple power grab from Barcelona, as Duke Riculfo is hardly competent in that matter. This time, I grumble for some time, but I at least understand the motive. The king likely had little choice. And we all make sacrifices to keep the inner peace.

Even if in my case, that means sending my men to fight a fellow vassal. Why is this world so full of hypocrisy?

At least, it only takes a year for Charles to place me on his council again. Replacing my brother-in-law and closest ally, Duke Antso of Anjou, as spymaster. Spymaster! What did I say about that in Carloman's time?

But I need to be close to the king to influence him. Sorry, Antso – at least my troops are bravely saving your grip on Évreux.

Am I becoming a master hypocrite?

As I am forced to take position against Pope Urbanus' relapse into his torturing ways (can't the man do one thing in secret – you'd expect him to learn after the first time!), I have enough. Can't people do anything right without me? My laws are clear, fair and just! Apply that, don't bother me! Leave me alone, just give me some time!

I slam the door to my quarters. Look out the window. Take in the beauty of the mountains, the only advantage of being driven out of Strasbourg. A peaceful, majestic sight. Perhaps I'll go for a hike. Just me and the mountain. Learning the hardships of a shepherd first hand may do me some good in understanding their point of view.

But mostly, I'll be alone. Just me and the mountain. No messenger, no supplicant. Doesn't that sound nice.

Having spent four years defending Antso – and succeeding – I am somewhat sorry to lead another campaign right after my men's return. But my claim on the Dauphinate, as legitimate as the corrupt church paints it to be, erodes the longer I do not pursue it. If not in their eyes, so at least in mine.

Having lost Lyon, Guilhèm is in no position to resist for long, and I can soon call myself Dauphin of Viennois, too. I can only hope that the man bears no grudge and acknowledges the justice and protection I bring to the Dauphinate. At least I am showing enough goodwill to let him keep his lands – more than just goodwill, I am respecting his lawful title. Which is more than could be said of a certain king.

Speaking of which – one of MY loyal titles broke free from Bavaria amidst the latest Waldensian outbreak in Bar (probably just a coincidence). Without the king's men behind her, “Countess” Audofleda will not usurp my title much longer.

My men, hardened enough not to expect anything else from me, don't grumble that much as we head north. Some have survived all the time, and are heading home even more than I do, for they come from the Sundgau. As I arrive, I see no army, just people hiding behind Montbéliard's walls.

They don't hide for long. Sundgau is mine again – a first step.

It doesn't matter that she's a child! I took back what is mine by right!​

A second step will have to wait. For now. I am training logistics with Mayor Benoît – hoping that it will go better than my aggressive lessons with Mayor Magnus back in the day. I do have much more experience and am a respected leader in war by now, so I am hopeful that it will work. Shall I take on a whole kingdom, then I a good supply system is important.

As are strong allies, and so I win over another Antso as ally – Antso IV of Gascogne, again one of the most powerful men of Charles' kingdom. My youngest son Amédée will get both the hand of his daughter Guillaumette as well as the county of Turin.

The Italians may have cast off Charles' crown, but that also leaves them exposed to their stronger neighbours – just like me. Count Bohemond can't resist, and I imagine the other counts know what fate awaits them; we Etichonen shall restore Karling rule in Italy.

All that while the King loses land in Iberia, having been captured in the defence of one of Barcelona's counties from the Hakamids. If Duke Riculfo wasn't such an incompetent Marshal, things may have gone better for both Charles and his Marshal – but I digress.

Trying to see things from Aymar's perspective in order to get a feeling for what my heir will do with my duchy, I set aside my mace for a moment to pick up a flail. Used to the straight swing of the mace, I misjudge the infernal weapon though, and it smashes against my knee.

Count Guilhèm watches the scene with a smug smile, while Aymar looks appropriately worried as he calls for the physician. The two men have become fast friends, and I don't know if I should be happy for them or concerned. After all, I don't think the count's set aside any thoughts of revenge, and I can't really judge Aymar, which is why I went to that trouble of swinging that thing in the first place...

I likely worry too much.

As a distraction, I try my hand at one of Benoît's exercises, only to fail miserably once again. How comes that I am a tested commander in the field, but unable to achieve anything in practice? No, that can't be right, that cannot!

I arrange another exercise to follow, trying to put old Magnus' lessons to the test and finally achieving a good result! So I bring out the horses, and stage a full charge.

I shouldn't have tempted fate. Why did I believe that something at which I repeatedly failed (admittedly a long time ago) would suddenly go well, with me having long-forgotten the actual exercise? And more importantly, the wound from the flail hindering my riding prowess?

It was a disaster, and I am lucky to be alive after falling from my steed at such speed.

And all that just as an opportunity opened for me to reclaim my home! The universe has a sick sense of humour. The Queen of Lotharingia is currently forcing Ludwig V of Bavaria to his knees, leaving Alsace open to reclaim. Or, as the duchy no longer exists, at least Strasbourg. I shall die at home, as my physician tells me I will hardly survive.

By sheer willpower I still live as we reach the walls of the town where I was born. Those well-built walls now prevent me from entering what is rightfully mine. I may not live to see my title restored, but I shall at least be entombed there. A small satisfaction.


You've toyed with me long enough, universe. I've abided by your rules, while trying to enforce my justice. At least I was just. Your rules – they only spell one word.


Chaos.

************************************
So the one thing Raynaud tried to master in his youth was the cause of his death. The poor man spent most of his life leading armies, only to be evicted from his home and then, just as he had a chance to return, be struck down by misery. A tragic figure, but also one with many strengths.

Aymar is a forgiving villain. Well, that may make for an interesting character.

 

[alscon]

Ch.10 – Best Friends Forever​

The fight is fairly short. The Alsatian peasantry is no longer accustomed to suffering, and welcomes the return of their rightful lord, which makes the situation of Ludwig's lackey untenable. Still, they put up some resistance, likely knowing the fate that awaits them for defiling my family's home.

The fighting didn't cause much damage, and the one it did cause was... useful. A missing blow showed that my father had ordered a wall built to hide a chamber in the castle – one full of most ingenious torture tools. As my men and allies proceed to the church in order to lay Father to rest, I remain there. Officially overwhelmed with a strange joyful grief.

Unofficially it's because I both want to stay away from that crowd and investigate this special room.

What am I holding in my right hand, behind my back? Well, wouldn't you like to know.​

Father left me another legacy, not just this conflict which I'm fairly certain to win. Bishop Clotaire brings me a claim on Novara. Nice. Didn't think the old man would touch a forgery with a ten-foot-pole.

“He merely wished to extend our lord Charles' protection to the Italians”, Clotaire assures me.

Yeah, right. Father, you sly fox. I'll miss you.



My young heir Raymond agrees. Somewhat. I do tire of all these questions though. It isn't easy telling a young child that his uncle has been murdered and the Dauphinate seized by the man his grandfather had seized the title from. I knew my friend would persevere in getting his title back. Still, poor Alphonse. Following Father into the grave so soon.

Would have been better if Guilhèm had made his move sooner, then I'd be the Dauphin! I'll have a word with him. What else are friends for?

Speaking of new titles – well, no. That's not right. An old title. Yes, that's better. Together with my allies, the troops crushed the Bavarians trying to retake Strasbourg, then went on to seize Speyer – and with it both the monarch and his son.

Showing my magnanimous side, I let him go in exchange for abandoning any pretention to my capital. Leaving the valley of Moutiers, the head of the Etichonen is back where it belongs, in the affluent centre of the Karling sphere of influence.

Still, we won't forget our loyal Savoyard subjects, who so readily accepted our rule. Moutiers shall be a rich trading town one day, fully capitalizing on the flow of trade through the mountains. Some day. Not in my day, but some day.

Oh, and we've also captured the former countess of Sundgau, who took refuge at Ludwig's court. A great opportunity for her to return the taxes that should never even have been paid to her in the first place, don't you think?

​

With my army nearly intact after taking on a whole kingdom, I think it is time to make use of Father's late gift, and move on to an easier target. The Prince-Bishop of Novara is just some cleric. Can't really defend himself against a powerful Duke, can he?

Uhhhhhh....

*cough**cough*

… well, one can't say the Church is poor. The bishop's mercenaries are not to be underestimated, and my men sorely lack Father's leadership. I may have to take the field myself.





But if I do, then it's to Novara. My brother-in-law Jaufré of Provence may face a rebellion, but I've got an uppity Prince-Bishop to deal with who had the audacity to not simply surrender his lands to the enforcer of King Charles' eastern border! (Nice title, now that I think of it. If people see me as “the King's Enforcer of the East”, then perhaps they'll stay away out of fear...)

Jaufré loses before I can even think about coming to his help (I wouldn't have). Instead, Clotaire has been busy to claim Cuneo for me. Useful. Once the bishop's dealt with, in any case.

Attacking Bavaria was easier. Thus I put a plan into motion to... accelerate the truce's end. Problem is, I don't have any chance to succeed if I don't schmooze over Ludwig's spymaster, Countess Magnatrude. Even more so as my... idea... has been discovered. I'll have to put up with the fornicating pig's company, it seems...

But only because I need the money to hire mercenaries myself. The Marchers of Wasconia swallow the rest of the treasury. (Diego will pay for that!)

Go on, march to victory at last! You've been expensive enough.​

As my men march on Diego's army, camped in Canavese's mountains, there are more ill news. Dauphin Guilhèm, that backstabbing bastard, sees an opportunity to claim Savoie! That rat!

“My dear friend, peace be with you. This is a declaration of war.”

Something's very wrong with him if he doesn't see the contradiction here. And I fully intent to profit from that. I send a letter to my kin in Lille asking for support, and send a man to spread information to Guilhèm. “Make him waste his time, undecided if he should march on Strasbourg, Lille or Moutiers”, I tell my guy.

He delivers, as Guilhèm's army is nowhere to be seen. Instead, news from Canavese arrive – my men lost the battle once again. But there's at least a silver lining – the deaths of the Counts of Aosta and Turin.

Aosta was annoying and is now in the hands of a toddler Countess. Hm. I wonder what would happen if something happened to her? Anything to stop having to pretend with that pig from Bavaria, even if it means I'll have to wait to move for Colmar. My men's dismal performance against Novara tells me there is much work ahead before I can even think of taking on Ludwig again, anyway.

And Turin – my dear half-brother Amédée had no heir of his own. A shame. So his title and wealth reverted to me, filling my coffers again, if only a little. I can't say it causes too much grief.

Still, the instructions sent to my men are crystal clear this time – they are to avoid engaging Diego's army, take Novara, and erase any trace in the county that shows that it has once been an episcopal seat.

The toddler Countess disappeared, but most disappointingly they unearthed her annoying mother to take over the county instead of their dearest liege. We both go out of each others way whenever we see each other, but I'll have to find another way to live with that thorny Franconian.

In far better news, Novara is finally mine! Diego tried to defend the episcopal seat himself while his undefeated mercenaries harried valley after valley, and fell into my army's hands. They did the only right thing: first off, extort more money by promising him freedom, then burn down anything closely related to the bishopric. How satisfying that blaze must have been. Throwing Diego's clerical garments into the fire, after all the trouble the man had caused!

And it isn't like the pope can complain. Novara simply becomes part of the Savoyard diocese. And besides, perhaps he's learned to keep out of worldly affairs for a while after the last torturing scandal. It is not like I've offered a deal to have Savoy's forces join the next crusade in exchange for Urbanus' silence. Banish the thought!

As an aside, pinning people makes one somewhat able to follow their actions – but only if you check them regularly. And it would be so very nice if the pin would at least go to the heir at death. I only noticed Gilles' death a few years later, as well as something else which will happen in the future and is very important. Message settings, how I miss thee.​

I grant Novara and Turin to my secondborn Guiges, then hope that my men deal with my good friend Guilhèm. He hasn't taken any of my lands yet, so I'm confident. Especially as he's avoided any confrontation so far, I'll likely escape another Novaran debacle in battle.

Hervé's men from Lille have been battered a few times, but my troops are unscathed. They seize Lyon, scare Guilhèm away from Savoie, and then proceed to occupy the rest of his lands. My old buddy then acknowledges his defeat.

No hard feelings, right?

Guilhèm, old friend, you've been doing your best to anger me with your fake claim. I defeated you. I also have a claim against you. A fully legitimate one, even. So hand it over.

No? Then have it your way.

He's just been defeated, so naturally he can't muster much in way of defence. More interesting in these times are thus the attacks of my direct neighbours, Lotharingia and Upper Burgundy. With Charles embroiled in Iberian conflict against the Muslims, the aptly-named Queen Stéphanie the Bully seized Vaucouleur without much resistance.

With Mercian help, Margot of Upper Burgundy tried to do the same. Unfortunately for her, Charles calls off the attack in Iberia on somewhat amiable terms (as much as that's possible in war), and focuses on her.

Just as I do. Taking a page out of the books of Stéphanie and Guilhèm, I see a chance to claim Viennois. So first insure her defeat by bolstering Charles' army, then overwhelm the Duchess. A good tactic.

It is strange that the Dauphinate of Viennois doesn't contain the county of Viennois, after all.

A drama in three acts. With a fourth – and fifth – to follow.​

The first part of the plan goes without a hitch. Margot and her Mercian friends are battered. But then, another opportunity arises.

Thanks to our constant support – and having done little else than wage war for the last few decades – House Etichonen is now known far and wide as a house of warriors. Thus some influential people from Provence appear at my court.

They offer their full support for my wife as Duchess of Provence, now that their lord is a mere toddler, foolishly engaged in a war against the Hakamids. A war which cost the boy's father his life and which may now lead to Gunhilde taking the ducal seat.

There's a lesson here – don't fight the Iberian Muslims. At least if you aren't completely sure that things are safe at home.

In any case, the willing traitors aren't as willing as they seem – first I have to take them hunting if they are to recognize Gunhilde's claim. She participates as well despite her pregnancy, falls from her horse, but thankfully nothing's broken.

“Why yes, what a spectacular hunt, my lord! Of course the Dauphine is the rightful Duchess of Provence!” Just what I needed to hear. My men march on Arles, seize it, and voilá! My dear wife is a duchess in her own right.

Combined with the alliances my chancellor forged with Anjou and Languedoc, nobody within the kingdom is able to contest my power now. And to prove it, I'll help Antso of Anjou beat up a child.

Child dukes are so vulnerable. Would I lead my men myself, one might say that it's becoming my favourite pastime. Wait – didn't Father seize Savoy from a child as well? So it's becoming some kind of family tradition to attack children.

Everything looks fine now, doesn't it? Now, if it wasn't so tempting to simply grab some defenceless loot in Neustria, I could turn on Upper Burgundy whenever I want and... what is it? Guilhèm? What does my good friend want?

And now it's MY fault? Who attacked first, you possessed madman?​

Ah. Honestly, it surprises me that it took him so long. Then again, it is nothing important, so...hm? A heretic uprising? Does that concern me in any way?

Oh, it originates in Upper Burgundy. Guilhèm and the Aostan scarecrow both joined it. Well, well. I might be able to escape my crusading duty by clearing my backyard instead.

 

[alscon]

Ch.11 – Profit before Faith​

The scarecrow plays right into my hands. Thankfully. Spares me the travel to Syria. I can't even fathom how terrible it would be, stuffed into tight ship's quarters with my men only to die in the heat of the desert. Though I guess I could have stayed in Byzantine lands instead.

In any case, I don't need to. The child beaten up, I demand that the scarecrow relinquishes her title to the one and only Dauphin, the Duke of Savoy – myself. With predictable results.

Less predictable is that these actions cause some newly converted courtiers of the Countess to seek asylum with their religious brother, my former friend Guilhèm. He suddenly has proof that I had my hands in the toddler countess' demise. I grudgingly give in to his blackmail and bin my plan to move on to him next after Gersvinda.

To make matters worse, my lovely wife is unable to control her vassals. It turns out that the countess of Provence loves her freedom a lot. She's probably also the one who had overthrown Duke Jaufré. Just as I assure her of my help, Gunhilde declares war on Duchess Margot... for Viennois. And calls for my assistance in that conflict as well.

I just... just... *sigh*. Just one word fits, really.


Women.


How did I get involved in that mess? I guess it's partly my fault for placing her on the ducal seat, but the other harpies involved are not my handiwork.

My very clear orders to smoke out the scarecrow first are for naught as she dies as my men come into sight. Her son Waldemar comes sprinting out of the castle and throws himself into the mud to my commander's feet and begs for mercy, swearing that he'll never even think of turning away from the Holy See nor my orders ever again.

Perplexed with what to do with that pathetic excuse for a man, my troops march south to Gunhilde's aid. Waldemar travels to me and professes his everlasting loyalty, and I'm inclined to believe him. I'll likely never see him ever again, judging from the look of terror in his eyes. And here I was thinking that I was uncomfortable with people. That coward looks like he'd faint at any moment.

Provence falls into my hands, and my men scare off the countess' troops every time they look like they'll take Arles. Thus Gunhilde's grasp on her duchy grows unchallenged. Speaking of unchallenged – Viennois won't become a part of my wife's lands.

Margot was deposed (likely by the Countess of Viennois of all people), on her daughter Celsovildis is a good Catholic. Thus the 4.000 Mercians and Auvergnats who had come to her aid and besieged Lyon simply return home, the war having come to an end.

Just as swiftly as they had put me into a strange three-way war around Savoy, the conflicts ended. With my men only seeing a field army from far away, be it as they were fleeing or from the safety of their walls.

Still confused about what actually happened, I can just repeat what I said before.


Women.

Speaking of which, I've found a bright young bride for my just grown-up heir Raymond. Goiswinth von Daun – not only she seems too smart to engage in what I just faced, her father is the Count of Klingenberg. Doesn't seem like much, but Arnulf is a powerful man who built a strong realm out of basically nothing. He reminds me a lot of my father.

And just because we aren't done with female rulers, I've attacked Celsovildis for Viennois. Finally got to that. With my men at full strength, we seize the county before her Mercian allies can arrive for yet another time.

I do wonder why the Mercians aren't building a military camp in Upper Burgundy, as often as they attempt to come to their defence. Yet again, they leave with nothing achieved.

After the rulers, the courtiers. There's been a case of smallpox. Some useless beggar from noble house whatever, who had somehow wormed her way into my castle. For appearance's sake, I had to seem concerned and hire a physician to deal with it.

My choice was the cheapest one available, a bastard called Antoinette.

She treated the beggar, caught the pox herself and died. I don't know what happened with the beggar.

Suffice to say, now my court physician is Étienne de Macon, a learned man who's been at court for a while. He turns out to be a natural and gains recognition as a masterful physician basically over night.


Yay, I guess?


At least my female misadventures seem to have come to an end.

A drama with a proper climax this time!... Leaving all side actors confused.​

...instead, my ROYAL misadventures may begin. I... might have been forced to attend the bishop's party, allegedly given to celebrate my hard hand against the heretics. (Ignoring the fact that Guilhèm remains openly Waldensian for a reason Gilbert can't fathom.)

The King was there, too. Pleased with my support as the Enforcer of the East. He happily waved towards me as I contemplated banging my head on the table for entertainment. But no, I had a better idea.

Slinking outside under pretext, I had the doors barred and played with fire. Don't look at me like that, Charles only has a single son, it's not like the realm would fall apart!

Besides, they all survived, save for the odd servant. Gilbert is furious and embarks for the Syrian Crusade to get as far away from me as possible. Charles coughs a bit, but admits that it was kinda interesting. He doesn't hold much of a grudge.

One reason for that may be that I declared war on the Count of Cuneo, and Charles is glad for me expanding his realm. Count Obizzo is allied to... you guessed it, Mercia! King Wulfgar must be holding some kind of grudge against me to ally my enemies. Obizzo's other ally is Deheubarth.

Thus my plan is simple: Frustrate the Mercians yet again as we force Obizzo's surrender before the Brits arrive. I take it as a good sign that Guilhèm is embroiled in a peasant war, as this time certainly nobody will look for asylum at his court.

The plan works like a charm, and I can only imagine the Mercians' faces as they are told that they've embarked to the mainland yet again for absolutely no reason at all. My favourite enemies.

Then again, perhaps they've seen some battle despite my victory, as West Francia is on fire in some way. A bunch of vassals have banded together behind the dwarf of Boulogne, who clearly casts a big shadow on the crown. (Sorry, not sorry.)


Loyalists like me and Anjou have better things to do than revolt for less crown authority.

Like attacking Brittany for Montaigu. Sadly not a child duke but a king.

While my men bravely risk their lives for Antso's profit, Guilhèm does me the favour of taking his knowledge about my secret to the grave. His heir Guiges might be willing to convert, but he wants my money. And he profits from his scumbag father's blackmail. He'll follow his father, the sooner the better.

My youngest Benoît has no clue about my plans, but nearly crosses them as he takes much of the poison meant for Guiges. The boy will have to learn when not to stick his nose into other's business.

My men are back swiftly, having captured the Prince of Brittany in battle. And with Charles doing perfectly well on his own against the uppity vassals, I ignore my wife's pleas (it was her mistake to side with the dwarf, and I've had enough female trouble) and attack King Ludwig instead (VI of Bavaria now, having lost the East Francian crown for some reason. I guess my son's father-in-law must have been involved somehow).

He's off crusading.

What a shame that my conscience (my bishop) has run off to the heathen desert. Truly a shame.

While my men seize Colmar, my plot against Guiges advances swiftly. He may have been able to keep his wife loyal, but...

He can't evade bandits. Nobody plans to kill me and lives!

Perhaps it wasn't him, my spymaster says. I tell him to prove the opposite then.

He answers that Guiges' successor, his sister Adelinde, immediately formed a faction to claim Viennois for her own as soon as she took over his lands.

I must have let out quite the exasperated sigh as he simply nodded to reactivate my agents in Forez.

Adelinde joins her family's crypt after a short term as countess. Her son Munio inherits. He will also inherit Girona from his father. So in a way, my duchy is going to expand. And it's all thanks to Guilhèm. A late gift from my erstwhile friend and rival. My gratitude.

The war, on the other hand, has taken another direction. My men may have occupied a few counties unhindered, but now the Bavarians have abandoned the crusade and fought me in Colmar. We've repelled them this time, but things are heating up.

But what a scandal to abandon the faith! Either you show up or you don't! One definitely doesn't come back to defend against an entirely legitimate claim!

My peasantry agrees. Or not. I force them to agree and finance my war, anyway.

Victorious, Charles magnanimously decides to keep the rebellious vassals in house arrest. That doesn't stop Gunhilde from yet again making a stupid decision as she calls me to war against the Hakamids. You can cope alone, honey.

My men are busy trying to hold off the Bavarian crown's supremacy. I've adapted my tactic – keep them busy, unable to enter Colmar, until they give up and recognize that it is my county.

Accordingly, my men manage to delay the Bavarian crusaders as they get battered in Lichtberg and Séléstat, drawing Ludwig's ire as he can't complete the siege of Colmar. Frustrated, he gives in.

Which means that Father's lost lands are finally reunited under Etichonen rule! Rejoice!

Not my men, of course, as they'll have to march off to Iberia to see if my wife's army has a chance of survival. Meanwhile, I secure myself a claim on Valentinois to show Munio who's the boss in the duchy so that the kid doesn't get any silly ideas.

Intimidating a child. Nice change of pace from beating one up.

My men's expedition at least convinces the pope that I'm a good Catholic. After all, I've also dealt with the heretics in my lands. That I attacked a defenceless kingdom because its ruler was on a crusade doesn't make me less of a good Catholic, and thus he agrees to my request for some gold.

Father was right about the church. Not that I mind. Just don't mention that in front of Raymond.

Interestingly, there's another heretic outbreak. No surprise, right? Well, usually yes, but... it's in Edessa. The very same lands who have just been taken by a crusader army.

Forgive me if I think that me attacking a crusader is nothing in comparison.

Instead of fighting the heathens (who seem too strong), I send my army to join Anjou for yet another attack on Neustria. Those two duchies seem to have a strong rivalry, and the support of the Etichonen has decidedly shifted the balance in favour of Anjou.

Mapmakers everywhere rejoice as Duke Angelbert wishes to claim Maine.

Some peasant spoilsports rise up, angry about the additional taxes which I may have forgotten to lower again after the war ended. But they are swiftly put down.

And then, the war against Neustria suddenly gains an additional, personal angle. My rival Birgitta (uhhh... who is that again?) is currently in Eu. And she's sent me a wonderful carpet. With the previous capture of Mayor Sicbold as one of the plotters against me, I can't help but think that she may be involved...

So my men have order to bring her to me in chains. While I enjoy the carpet. So soft.

It turns out that murder has its uses, but also significant drawbacks, as Countess Mathilde of Viennois blackmails me next. I'll have to tell Birgitta or whoever else wants me dead that they shouldn't bother if they don't want to answer blackmailers all the time. It's not like I'm a villain...

Look, I even join the next crusade! Disillusioned by the Nestorians in Edessa, the pope decides to strike a closer target, Lotharingia. There's just one or two counties there in heathen hands, clearly not enough to justify a crusade, but Silvester doesn't care.

At least it's a crusade I'm willing to join.

She does get the address right, even if I don't approve of the letter's content.​

The time until the crusade starts could have been spent gathering and training men. Instead, my time was spent just like before. Or rather, my men's. Neustria was beaten up (and Birgitta thrown into Angelbert's dungeon, where she perished. How sad.), my newest ally Gascogne's revolt put down. I was blackmailed by a woman (my wife!). So, nothing happened worth mentioning.

Oh, right, that's not true. I noticed something during that time. Or rather, someone at court found the time to finally mention it to me.

Bow to the Emperor.

It would have been nice to see a mention somewhere instead of simply be surprised to notice that Francia exists...​

As the crusade starts, my men, ready to march as ever, swiftly occupy Mark and Cleves, the two Lotharingian counties in heathen hands.

Then they seek battle in Kleve, confident that the thousands of Catholics nearby are going to reinforce their position and change the battle's outcome.

As if. They are defeated, and my son Alain amongst the mortally wounded. I guess he was called the Foolish for a reason. Though he was a good actor, managing to call upon the men's zeal even though he shared Father's view on the church.

I start dreaming of a crown. Once the crusade is over, I could take over Upper Burgundy, and then... Charles left the Burgundian throne vacant in order to claim the Francian one. And who better than a king to be an emperor's right hand?


Alas, I won't have the time to do it myself. Mine comes to an end. Raymond will have to continue where I leave off. He'll just lose Viennois and Piedmont, while eventually inheriting Provence. So if I just push him towards it, he'll manage. My boy doesn't have any own goals, but he'll have the House's to live for.

And these are all that matter. Not everyone can have such a good life as myself.

*****************************************

Thus Aymar's reign comes to an end. It was certainly a good one. But now the balance of power has drastically shifted, with the rise of the Empire of Francia promising plenty of stability for the future. Have the exciting times already come to an end? I hope not, and we'll see as Raymond becomes yet another man to live in a new patch.

He's a content, diligent zealot. So in a way it's nice that he won't have to go crusading all the time as the timer has been set to thirty years again. It's likely that the next crusade will at least aim for more than two counties.

 

[alscon]

Ch.12 – Faith before Profit​

He revealed his plans on his deathbed. Bishop Josselin was there as well. It was nice to see that Father, unlike what has been whispered around lately, had thought of confessing his sins as he prepared to meet his maker.

“Raymond, my boy... I have just one thing to ask of you. Or two, actually. As Josselin here can certainly confirm, the Karlings are the god-given rulers of Francia. Support them throughout your life, and make sure that the Etichonen stand at their side. Closely.

But the Karlings aren't the only ones chosen to rule by God's grace. We are their crutches when they can't walk. Their mouths when they can't speak. Their swords when they can't fight.

Sadly, they don't always reward their closest allies as they deserve. They may not have our best interests in mind even as we work for theirs. Charles abandoned the Burgundian crown as he claimed the mantle of Emperor.

This crown is ours by right. A King is the best advisor to an Emperor.”

I looked to Josselin, who gravely nodded.

“My boy. Now that I won't be able to, claim our divine right.”

I have a mission. God-given, no less. He revealed His plans to my father and the clergy. Why else would our House have the honour of being the foremost contributor to the Holy Crusade? He favours us.

And so it is only natural that the Emperor's eye falls on me as well, naming me the Steward.

My cousin, Raynaud of Maastricht, actually has a claim on Bresse. And even if Duchess Celsovildis of Upper Burgundy has sworn fealty to His Imperial Highness, that doesn't mean that she can stand in the way of House Etichonen's destiny.

With the Mercian alliance having fallen apart as well – the King of Mercia apparently having sworn never to set foot on the continent again after all his useless ventures –, the Duchess can't resist the might of Savoy's men for long.

The realm at peace, and no clear way to continue pursuing my mission, I listen to my heart and go on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The Holy City awaits.

My faith is put on trial multiple times during the journey, but I persevere. I am not led astray by temptation, burning the naked witch preaching about innocence. The Devil's work was clear for all to see, but only I was able to finally act. A shameful display, causing me to sink deeper into prayer as I let my men lead on our pilgrimage.

They found out the hard way that all roads lead to Rome instead of Jerusalem. It quickly became clear that none of us knew how to find the path to the Holy City. Erring through Italy became yet another trial, but in the end we found a ship of hopeful pilgrims willing to provide passage. I persevered and chose the pious way instead of the path of the coin.

Spoiler: NSFW

My reward for passing these tests of faith becomes clear for all to see as we return from the pilgrimage. The people of Hainaut remember that it was an Etichonen who delivered them from the heathen yoke. Indeed, it was my ancestor Hupold, unfairly known as the Forgettable, who drove out the vile spawn of Hæsteinn.

Thus, Mayor Adalbert of Tournai proclaims that it is actually an Etichonen who shall rule over the county instead of the van Vlaanderens, who usurped the land from Hupold's son upon their own succession.

Descending upon Brabant with the same righteous fury pious Hupold wrought upon the heathen devils, we defeat Duke Joan in Cambray before seizing our land and his heir, causing the man to surrender.

May this serve as an example to all naysayers – piety is already rewarded in this world, not just in the next.

The great Emperor, Charles the Restorer, sadly made his way to the Lord while I marched on Hainaut. Upon my return, his son Carloman names me Chancellor, thus fulfilling the duty of my House.

I see that the work before me is hard. Count Milon of Boulogne is leading a faction to reduce the influence of the crown, and he is finding plenty of allies. I fear the realm will be torn apart by civil war soon enough, and I sadly have to see that my own mother yet again participates in this ill endeavour.

To distract myself from my worldly studies, I intensify my theological studies, aided by a man named Henri. He may claim that all our results are due to him, but it doesn't matter. My insight into the scriptures increased, and that is all the reward I need.

Then again, remember what I said about piety being more than just its own reward? Josselin pleaded my case for the Burgundian crown at the Holy See, and Pope Silvester III agrees. God truly favours House Etichonen, and thus His representative on Earth names me the rightful Duke of Transjurania.

I start planning how to claim this right, as we have to face Lotharingia, a kingdom that has seen plenty of success in the last decades.





But first my brother reminds me that I should give thanks to the one who made it possible. I fully agree that it is the least I can do.

I delve into my prayers with even more passion.






My preparations take up much time, and I put the plans on hold as the Liberty War breaks out. Count Milon may have relinquished the leadership of the rebellion, but that doesn't influence the name. We all remember who founded the faction.

The War of the Dwarves.

The Imperial army claims the first victories, then Duke Arnault of Gascogne desires my support against the heathens in Navarra.

What kind of Christian would I be if I declined and didn't offer my full support?






The heathens prioritise advancing on Cerdaña instead of defending the Basque lands. Thus Navarra falls quickly, and my men seize Malik Lupo's capital not much later, causing him to surrender without a single battle fought.

We may not have shed much heathen blood, but still returned some good land to the faith.

Speaking of which, Pope Silvester III is a very active head of the church. Bolstered by the successes in the Holy Land (and certainly our recent one in Iberia as well), he announces the foundation of the Knights Templar. Brave warriors of Christ, may they be another sword to turn against heathenry everywhere.

Then he makes another decision which impacts Francia far more. In his unending wisdom, guided by the Lord himself, he withholds communion from Emperor Carloman, who has the clear upper hand in the War of the Dwarves.

I react immediately. The depravity of the Emperor has to come to an end.

Unsurprisingly, not just the rebels profess their willingness to help me, but also people such as our long-standing allies in Anjou. Why wouldn't they, after all? We are merely acting as intermediaries to God's will.

Carloman, gorging himself during yet another orgy in his castle, won't know what hit him as my agents have prepared his last meal.

Deus vult, I say. Were we not justified, then it wouldn't have worked out as it did. The excommunicated Emperor is dead, and the cause of death is a bone, stuck in his throat. No foul play.

Sentence commuted, may he burn eternally in hell.

Carloman's two equally dwarfish sons, Charles and Thierry, inherit Francia and Aquitaine respectively. Charles II may have a reputation as a treacherous villain, but he is clearly a better choice on the throne, not lastly because of his scholarly pursuits. The men who rebuilt Francia into an empire – and those who tried – were well-learned rulers as well.

Which brings me to my own research. Worryingly, the end of the world is close. Josselin thinks I may be wrong. I pray that he is right, but doubt sets itself in the back of my mind. Less than a century. It may be tomorrow, for all I know.

I put further thought into my search. The ancient texts I study may not offer more knowledge on that topic – but they provide very valuable insight all the same.

Still, I need to move forward. The bishop clearly knows better than me. Just as Charles II found a powerful ally in Byzantium, I did as well. Gascogne, Burgundy, Anjou and Provence stand with me. My brothers, as well. And with the War of the Dwarves at an end, we can all turn our full attention to Lotharingia.

We can field over 14.000 men, Queen Anstrude and her allies command over 8.000. We certainly have the numerical advantage.

I decide to spread out over Transjurania, if possible occupy it before Anstrude's army arrives from the north. She is also fighting the Danes, but it is such a small-scale conflict that even if she were to doubt the judgement of His Holiness, she should be able to persevere against the heathens afterwards.

Sadly, Benoît doesn't make it. The Dauphin is ambushed by the Lotharingian troops and gravely wounded. My dear brother... clearly my faith wasn't strong enough. My old sins caught up with me. Or was it because of the Danes? In any case, I need to repent. I need to excise these sins, pay with my neglect in pain.

The Emperor, acting as mere ally of his vassal Barcelona, was captured by an uppity peasant in Africa. Is this another sign? Has House Karling, represented by the Barrois branch, lost its legitimacy? No, it can't be. For its lack of consequences, it must surely only be meant as a wake-up-call. To return to the right path. Hopefully the Emperor heeds it.

I prepare to make a stand in Pontarlier. Anstrude's army, 9.500 strong, is marching on my position. My allies are a few days' march to the east. We have the favourable terrain.

God willing, we will hold them off long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

​

**********************************

After three more or less cynics, Raymond is a complete change of pace. But despite the War of the Dwarves, Francia is still going strong. Is it unstoppable and going to verge on the boring? I hope not.
Why am I bringing this up? I'm planning to do another interlude soon (if Raymond manages to claim the crown, or after he dies), where I'll take a look at the world and identify any possible threats. If you want to know how a certain region fares, feel free to ask.

 

[alscon]

Ch.13 – The Servant's Crown​

The enemy pushes forward relentlessly. Duchess Rictrude of East Franconia leads them, and she is a formidable foe. Despite rumours that Queen Anstrude has contracted the bubonic plague and may not be long for this world – yet another proof of God being on our side! – her men fight on.

Duke Angelbert is not far away, but I don't know if we can hold on long enough. The Lord gives us the morale to keep fighting, but it doesn't look good.

I find myself in the middle of the fray. Surrounded.

I strike down the first man, swiftly dodging the second one's spear before cleaving in his skull, but a sharp pain in my side brings me to my knees. The enemy hesitates, doesn't strike the finishing blow.

Time lost which is firmly on my side. Feeling God's presence close to me, I shout out saints' names as I rush back to my feet and fall on my aggressors like a demon.

They are first surprised, then terrified, and I carve a bloody path back to my line to the cheers of my men.

Much of the blood left on that trail is mine, but I don't care. The battle is mine to win, I just need to hold on until...

Horns sound.

The Angevin reinforcements are here, and the relentless push of the Queen's army stops as they struggle to secure the flank Angelbert's knights are crashing into.

Victory will be ours.

My work here... is done.

I didn't even notice Raymond was wounded - and then he was suddenly dead.​

Father returned to Strasbourg earlier than expected.

Because he did so less alive than expected. Duke Angelbert brought his body back from Pontarlier to let us lay him to rest. He fought like a lion, my promised father-in-law said.

Only thanks to him did we win the day.

That's what Angelbert says, anyway. I'm old enough to know what that means. I am now the Duke of Savoy. My dear brother Philippe the Duke of Alsace. I'll mourn Father for a while. But I have to carry on. Ruling is my task now, and I never ran away from what I had to face.

Great-grandfather Raynaud also inherited his title as a child. And if I have to face as many wars as he did, then I will do that. Father may have thought that fortune favours the pious, but isn't the old saying that it favours the bold?

I ask Angelbert to bring me to the army to lead it as it's new commander, but he just laughs and pats my head. I'm not just some child! Despite my protests, Bishop Josselin is appointed as my regent, and Angelbert hints at my uncle from Piedmont taking general command.

Frustrated at being unable to avenge Father personally, I can at least take satisfaction in Anstrude's death of the plague. Her Croatian son Gheorghe inherits, and it doesn't take a grown-up to figure out that a period of instability awaits Lotharingia.

I would certainly not stand by idly if I'd have to answer to Karlo instead of Charles. Then again, as a border lord I probably would if he doesn't meddle in my business. The Bishop doesn't tell me much about the Emperor's influence here, but I haven't felt much of it at least.

Instead of taking the field, I have to content myself with training – and Josselin's favourite, Thierry of Aosta. The boy – the “handsome little angel” – gets away with everything against his rightful liege just because my regent sides with him. Whenever he smiles, or makes his puppy-eyed face, grown-ups instantly believe he's innocent and that I'm the one to blame.

I've mistakenly hit his oh-so-perfect face during some of my sparring sessions, and was forced to recite a bunch of psalms in retaliation. Who do these fools think they are? I am the Duke. Better still, I am soon to be a king! Oh, I will make them regret the day I come of age.

​

I'll probably see Angelbert again for my wedding, but not for the war. My grandmother Gunhilde delivers the news. My side was victorious in Vesoul, and instead of dragging out what seems to be inevitable King Gheorghe preferred to surrender and focus on securing his throne.

As it was a war waged in my name, I can insist on a great victory celebration while my uncle and grandmother are present. Josselin can't possibly act in Thierry's interests while we are celebrating, and I quite enjoy hearing all these stories, soaking up the court gossip.

One never knows when it might come in handy.

The wine flows for what seems like days, and grandmother overdid it. Of all those fools who ended up under the table, she was the only one not to wake any more.

The knight who lay next to her in his drunken stupor shortly woke, heard Étienne pronounce grandmother dead, and yelled “Hail the new duke of Provence!”.

I think I will pass on drinking much wine in the future.

With grandmother's death, Josselin immediately sent out a messenger to Rome, telling me that he's only putting Father's wishes into action. I find it highly suspicious that the Muslim woman captured from the Hakamids was released from the dungeon the same day and place the Bishop under constant watch from me and my friends.

This may open another opportunity for Thierry to get me punished, but I have to be sure that he doesn't plan anything against me.

Thierry stops laughing when the messenger returns – His Holiness Pope Silvester IV has confirmed me as the new King of Burgundy.

I miss CK2's pompous title creation pop-up.​

This just makes any intrigue against me even more tempting, and even if Josselin had nothing bad in mind this time doesn't mean that he won't do so again. Perhaps someone wants to win Mother over to his cause? Now that Father is dead, she may look for another marriage... only faking her affection for me to avoid suspicion... planning on becoming Queen herself!

It wouldn't be the first time women act against their children, after all. I know she keeps a journal. And she's hiding it from me! I also know she has enjoyed the victory celebration a lot. I can count my blessings that she woke again that day. Or can I?

To be sure, I pour a sedative into her wine. Don't ask me where I've got it from. Then I search her room for her journal.

It must be here somewhere...

Oh, damn it. As she chastises me for rummaging through her room, Thierry is there again, with a wide grin on his face, not even trying to conceal his delight. Enough is enough! I'll show that rat!

I let out a shout of anger as soon as Mother returned to her room and charge. I am the king, and nobody disrespects me!

Unluckily for me, Thierry's got a headstart, he's agile and heading towards Josselin's quarters. Running through the floors, with him shouting for help, is such a satisfying feeling...

Until a door flies open, just after the brat's passage, leaving me to crash face-first into it. Owwwww. That hurts.

The day of his reckoning will have to wait.

Good news keep coming with bad ones. Emperor Charles II recognizes the Burgundian Crown, and transfers me the vassalage of Upper Burgundy and my cousin in the Dauphinate. Both are younger boys than me. Adding to that I do want to win over Countess Helene by gracefully returning her duchy of Transjurania, people are calling Burgundy the Kingdom of the Children.

​

Let them talk. Anything deflecting attention from that shameful run-in with the door. The wound it left made me look like I'd been beaten up pretty badly. To make matters worse, it got infected!
To Josselin's credit, he brought in an experienced physician to replace the late Étienne, and Hodierne's treatment worked wonders.

There will be no scar constantly reminding me of that disaster. Now if I only get rid of Thierry, and I can completely bury that episode in the deepest recesses of my mind.

The day of my 16th birthday is thus a joyous day. My coronation.

My enemies shall quiver in their boots, for I will pass judgement. Humble servant of Emperor Charles II, I shall carry out his will. And mine.
Be it by facing enemies in open battle – or by awaiting foes with a dagger in the dark.

Today, the reign of King Arnoul the First of Burgundy, Francia's Enforcer of the East, begins in earnest!

 

[alscon]

Interlude 2 – (Re)Birth of a Crown​

The world could definitely be a stranger place at the time of King Arnoul of Burgundy's coronation. For those who think they can judge the strengths of a realm well, there are only few surprises, as evidenced by the spread of religion.

But let us take a closer look.




Burgundy's unfought opponent in the British Isles when the crown was still the duchy of Savoy is doing well. King Hereweard Mercia-Doncaster leads one of four strong Christian kingdoms – the others being Wessex, Powys and Alba. Even if right now, Alba is ruled by King Fócarta of Brittany, it was by choice – the Scottish crown follows Tanistry, and will stand on its own again after the old king's death.

Ireland is where the Ásatrú have kept a hold, most importantly the very much splintered kingdom of Estonia.

Speaking of the Norse, Denmark appears to be the strongest of the viking realms. But these realms are disunited and vary wildly in strength over time. Fighting Lotharingia, both Sweden and the Sami of Åarjetje are currently stronger than King Þorfinn Borg, who is not in an enviable position. Especially as the initiator of the War of the Dwarves, Count Milon of Boulogne, sees an opportunity as well.

East Francia has fallen apart, King Ludwig VI unable to keep that crown in addition to his Bavarian one. Disunited, the king suffers badly from the stress it causes, and the mad Polish king, Borzywoj, seems poised to strike. The Slavic tribes of Poland might be able to threaten even Francia should they manage to stay united.

I've had a game in which Slavic Pomerania and Lusatia overran the Karlings all the way to Brittany – now that would have been interesting. Might still happen, but I don't really think so as the tribal advantages disappear.​

In Eastern Europe, Khazaria starts falling apart. After bringing their Kabarite faith to the lands east of the Rus of Novgorod, Vidilists of Lithuania and the Mögyer Confederation, the crown of Vladimir currently wields the strongest army. Only time can tell if Vladimir remains the strongest Jewish kingdom, or if Khazaria can recover its primacy.

Unimpressed by the changes in the rest of the world, the Eastern Roman Empire still stands strong, and has retaken a few former Imperial territories, mostly in Africa. Recognized as a strong and wise ruler, Basileus Pankratios is set to rule the strongest realm of the known world without one of the infamous civil wars for some time to come.

But he shouldn't underestimate the Moldavians. Just like Poland is able to threaten the Karling crowns, King Mstislav II wields a quite formidable force of warriors.

Iberia is dominated by the Muwalladi Umayyad dynasties. With Francia pushing into the peninsula from the north, the Hakamids seem to struggle to hold on to their lands. The Sultanate of Badajoz appears to be dominant, but Andalusia also has sizeable forces.

While Northern Africa is disjointed, with extensive Francian and Byzantine presence, in the west strong realms have formed, foremost among them Ghana. Having reformed their Bidaic faith, Maghan Biyu's kingdom fields over 10.000 men and looks to have a bright future ahead.

​

In the east of the continent, the Caliphate advances along the coast. The Ali lands are spread out as a result, while Coptic Abyssinia holds strong and fights Outer Ajuraan for dominance. Negus Amare can probably count on a useful ally in the future, seeing as his mother is none other than the Queen of Jerusalem.


Berenice of Jerusalem, married to the late king of Abyssinia, had adopted her husband's Coptic beliefs, and with her father dying without a son, the crusader kingdom became Coptic as well.

​

Having lost Egypt, Jerusalem and Syria to crusaders, as well as northern lands to the Khazars at their zenith, the Abbasid Caliphate is forced to lick its wounds in its core lands of Arabia. Still, they remain the foremost Islamic realm, though the Tahirids and Samanids are almost comparable.

The eastern Steppe is in turmoil. Completely dominated by the Kirghiz Khanate, the sole surviving child of the last Khan is a mere girl. Thus, the steppe burns, and the neighbouring realms rejoice.

In India, no dominating force is on the rise. The Pratiharas arguably stand the tallest, but really, all Indian kingdoms have comparable strength. At least there are kingdoms there standing for order – Tibet on the other hand is a mess of counties who are often changing hands.

Thus ends our look at the world. But Francia still holds a surprise. The heir to Emperor Carloman's crown, Prince Charles, is not only yet another dwarf.

He's married to his aunt. The couple is yet to have any children...

 

[alscon]

Ch.14 - I am the King!


​

With the crown firmly on my head, I assert my authority. The Archbishop slithers back to his diocese, and the Emperor appoints me Marshal – instead of my uncle Guiges. The man broods over this decision for over a year, then he decides to make a clean break with Strasbourg. I shall no longer hold any sway over him as house head.

Etichonen-Turin. Cute, if he thinks that frees him from my shadow. Even cuter taking the family motto into account.

I haven't even done anything. Yet, yes. But still... Ye of little faith.



It seems that now is the time to assert my authority as head of the dynasty and make him completely answer to me.

Respect must be earned, and kept. My little brother is my friend. He always stood by me. So he's safe from me enforcing his vassalage. Guiges lost my respect by trying to abandon our legacy. And Thierry... I'm preparing something good for him.

Duke Angelbert and my bro stand with me, while Guiges has Bar and Gascogne on his side. I've tried to get Childebrand of Burgundy, the father of Philippe's betrothed, to add to my forces. After he declined I... may have resorted to threats.

Suffice to say, he's lost my respect as well.

Anyway. A dish best served cold. So true. So, so very much. I've ordered Count Thierry to Strasbourg, in order to swear his fealty, give his oath of vassalage. A good time for that, as he's bound to offer men for my campaign. For good measure, I've added that not appearing would mean to forswear any right to his title.

I had thought long and hard about what to do with “the pretty boy”. Throw him into the deepest hole I can find? Go to work on him with Eberhard's old, rusty tools? While both options have their appeal, they have drawbacks. The first one, I'd have to keep him alive, and I don't want to spend anything on that worm. The second one, I'd have to keep him alive too.

Sadly, I lack experience in what a boy can live through.

So the third option it is. A demonstration of power. I. Am. The. King!

I made certain that Josselin, is present as Thierry steps into the main hall. I slouch on my throne, staring him down as he comes to a stop at the dais.

He mumbles his loyalty to me. My face darkens, and I order him to kneel. We are not equals, and I won't let him stand. More indistinguishable words. Seemingly irritated (immensely enjoying this), I turn to Josselin and ask him what Thierry said.

Before shouting for him to repeat his vows loud and clear. Once that's done, I beckon him to come closer.

Surprised, Thierry moves towards the throne. And when he's in range, I straighten my position and smack my armoured right fist with my whole might into his face, to a satisfying crunch, sending him to the ground.

Thierry's companions reach for their weapons, but then sadly remember their place. Would have been nice to offer the Count their heads as part of the performance.

Instead, he recovers from the blow as I profess my intention of making him pay for the carpet he is so rudely ruining with his blood, bleeding like a pig from his broken nose. I then wave him away for the evening's banquet.

“For my honorary guest and exemplary vassal.”

Josselin is visibly shocked, but one look at me and he tries to regain his composure. That's right, preacher: Who's the king?


Oh, right, I've broken that pretty face he likes so much. I feel like there's room for a paedophile priesthood joke here, but I may still need the man.

And the performance isn't over yet!

For the banquet, I've got the priest seated next to Thierry, and giggle in anticipation for the next act.

“Truly, an exemplary vassal is here today! One who thought it a wise idea to act against his king! Well, such a man deserves a special treat from the kitchen!”

While the servants bring in the usual suspects as dishes, there's an additional platter for the Count, with some black...ish... heap of meat on it. The form is unmistakeable. A rat for a rat.

“Why, dig in! You wouldn't decline something so nicely offered by your loving king?”

To the dismay of the Count, his entourage, and Josselin, after I slam my knife into the table - threatening to aim for his head the next time - he slowly lifts the critter by the tail and takes a bite, to the cheers of my good men.

I raise my glass in a toast. “To knowing your place!”



It doesn't take long, and Thierry's oh-so-beautiful, blood-smeared face changes colour again. Additionally, he starts to gurgle. Spits out some of his vile meal, then more blood. Before crumbling to the floor.

His few friends in this hall try to help him, but they know very well that there's nothing to be done.

“Angering your king. A bad idea.” I smile towards the Archbishop, who clearly understands. Now, let us finish the meal, and leave the vermin... to the vermin. We march tomorrow.”

Thierry's older sister becomes the new Countess of Aosta, and she understands. The men I sent to inform her of her new title made sure of that, so I won't hear anything from there any more. The Emperor on the other hand may not be so understanding – after all, he hasn't killed anyone. (For mocking his size. As far as I know.) So I'll need to have him in my pocket.

Though he may not be that disapproving, he hasn't done anything and doesn't seem to plan to. I'll need to be sure.
It may also be because my title is guaranteed by Imperial decree that Charles is unwilling to act. Who knows. It wouldn't stop me.

We occupy Provence without much resistance, then get battered – mostly by Gascogne's men – in Chieri. This is the wake-up-call for peasants in Aosta, who find it harder to swallow their outrage at how I dealt with their pretty count than their actual Countess.

I'll just have to smoke out the entire valley of all its rats even after dealing with the pack leader.

The rabble leader hanging from Aosta's walls, the Angevin men finally join my campaign, and we seize the Piedmont. When Guiges arrives to retake his capital, this time I come out victorious and force him to kneel.

Additionally, the heir to Gascogne falls into my hands. With Duke Arnault unwilling to pay the kind of ransom I expect, Eudes will enjoy an extended stay in Strasbourg. Once he's the Duke, he'll surely be willing to make a bigger contribution to my treasury for so kindly keeping him alive.

This not entirely unpleasant journey into warfare over, I have to deal with politics. And it's exhausting. My mother bawls that she's not the countess of Worms. Tries to leave and find someone who will enforce her claim if her beloved son isn't man enough to do it.

I say “try”, because the next day she's back, embracing me and claiming that she'd never leave her darling boy, no matter how far he strays from God.

Um... yes, Mother? I may have feared she'd plot against me before, but now I'm more concerned for her mental health.

Then there's a letter from my uncle, claiming that he would never – I'll cut here. Urgh.

And then there's my dear sister Aude, who needs a good husband-to-be. Duke Rainer of Toulouse might have been a good ally, and we've begun negotiating, but then I saw how he calls himself.

Good thing she didn't leave with my sis.​

“Can you repeat that, once again”, I asked the emissary.

“His Grace, Rainer de Toulouse-Toulouse, Duke of Toulouse, would love nothing more than to join his house to that of the mighty Arnoul Etichonen, King of Burgundy, whose unquestioned royal authority is an example to all.”

I get that he might have wanted to distance himself from his brother reigning in Languedoc, but I won't marry my sister to the offspring of a man too stupid to notice that he's naming his house, named for the capital of its duchy of the same name, ONCE AGAIN for that very same capital! Any respect I may have held for the man vanished in the oubliette, never to see the light of day.

Aude will marry Prince Custentin of Brittany and Alba instead. Perhaps become a queen one day.

With no other interesting developments at court, I focus my attention on Italy. The situation merits my full attention, as the Papacy has assumed lordship over Pavia. And picking a fight with the Pope is... not a good idea. And I'm not even talking about spiritually. The Papacy can count on many men and mercenaries to defend its lands, as it has done so quite often against the Sicilian Douxes, annoyed at the Papal presence on their island. Each time a crushing defeat. So I have to move faster if I want to bring back the Italian counties into the Karling fold.

And seize the rich lands for myself as a nice side effect.

Josselin provided legitimacy to move for Lombardia, and soon Milan is mine. The Countess there wisely didn't seek a suicidal battle, yet still resisted until I'd taken both her keeps.

As a nice gift upon my return, my cousin in Cambray has not managed to contain her passion, and shown another sign of utter stupidity within the realm.

Just think about it for a moment. You are a woman. You have no children, thus your cousin and liege is your heir. You are unmarried. And... you seem to be pregnant. What do you do?

If your answer is “nothing” or “hope for the best”, then you are Almodis. For her own sake – and that of her child! – she could just have married her lover, who is unmarried as well. But no. She decided to risk it and promptly ends up as a permanent guest in the capital (did she think I'd accept “virgin birth” as an excuse?).

Then again, perhaps she didn't want to be a countess. As she can feed herself from Cambray's income – and I shall inherit anything left – there's no need to be harsher to her. My authority remains unquestioned.

To keep it that way even in Italy, I've launched a... Frenchification campaign. The people shall all speak French, and the places within my kingdom only referred to by their (new) name in the King's language. My vassals should follow that example as well, but that may take some more time.

Right now, they cause other problems. Count Ernst of Zurich was married to the Duchess of Steiermark, however she was called. Yes, was, because she's dead. If their son Mainard inherits, then I shall lose Ernst's lands to Bavaria. Just as I will if Ernst dies.

Not an easy situation. I've got a solution in mind, but it needs some work.

Coincidentally, I've been experimenting with an old volunteer, my Marshal Julien (he's just a temporary appointment).

The results of that experiment are put to good use. I've wanted to appear at the Imperial court for a while, and it is quite a surprise that a bunch of guards are out cold during my visit. I wonder what happened to them.

Charles wants to use the opportunity to speak to me about Thierry's unfortunate demise.

I tell him that how I treat my vassals is none of his business.

He reminds me that he's the emperor.

I answer that as long as I am loyal, he shouldn't care.

Charles insists, orders me to give a real answer.

I tell him that my vassals don't feel wronged and that Thierry had it coming. And that it may be better for my fellow vassals of His Imperial Majesty not to feel wronged as well, which they may be if the letter I'm holding in my hands – doubling the taxes – gets into theirs.

Charles being a dwarf makes it easy to hold the letter, unmistakeably sealed with his very own seal, under his nose while looking down on him.

Predictably, he stops being confrontational and appeases me. Of course it is your right to deal with your vassals as you see fit. Your crown, your rules. If you have no other advice, my dear councillor, then I shall withdraw to my chambers.

Oh, but there is. As His Majesty is well aware, House Etichonen is a staunch supporter of the Imperial Crown. It is only fair that we are guaranteed a place on the Imperial Council as a result, no?

Of course, of course, anyone questioning your loyalty shall but open his eyes! It shall be done!

Easy.

I am the King. And no emperor shall say otherwise.

A king with a fitting queen. I feel like Valence and I make a good match, reinforcing the bonds with Anjou even more.

 

[alscon]

Ch.15 – The Pragmatic King​

Both the realm and my permanent guest Countess Almodis paid for my wedding. Almodis was perfectly willing to get herself separated from her bastard, and I've had no reason to disagree.

My wedding was overshadowed by an incident involving my little brother... but I preferred to keep it a secret. Philippe is my friend and ally, and that doesn't just save him from my knights, but also from humiliation.

She also tried ransoming herself, but she's more useful to me as my “guest”. Also, I trust you can keep your disgust to yourself, Liudolf.​

In the end, I wasn't even married a day and already my treasury had made a nice profit, paying for my war against the Queen Mother of Sardegna e Corsica, the Duchess of Genoa, for Piémont's county of Monferrato. The Genoese managed to fend me off in Monaco, but in Coni, I am certain to take the victory.

We outnumber them quite handily, and I thus advance aggressively, leading the men by example. Crashing into the Genoese flank, I take on a multitude of opponents, bringing deadly steel down on their heads until I feel a sharp pain in my flank. That – doesn't look good.

The day is won, but the wound is more than just a flesh wound. At least that's what I am thinking before my physician Hodierne arrives. A few tinctures, a bandage, and I feel good as new. All the gold I needed to hire her was well spent.

Not even a scar left! She's really good.​

As we lay siege to Genoa, I hear of old king Fócarta's death. To nobody's surprise, Brittany and Alba are separated again, and Fócarta's eldest living son Custentin inherits. That leaves my sister as future Countess of Penthièvre... but she could be more...

And while I have the Emperor under control, it can't hurt to extend my influence outside of Francia's borders. I may not wield the Imperial authority directly, but if I am recognized as the foremost Catholic monarch – I may be able to convince the border lords to swear their fealty to me without needing to use the same method with which I am threatening Genoa now. All in the name of efficiency, strengthening my kingdom – and the Empire – without bloodshed.

By the very nature of marriage, Aude will be far closer to her betrothed, Cus...

Wait. She's betrothed to Custentin, Count of Penthièvre. Who is four years younger than his brother... King Custentin of Brittany.

I denied one moron a marriage only to propose it to another.

That's a mistake I have to repair.

Is the nobility so permeated by idiots? Or am only I unlucky enough to be surrounded by them?​

My message would have been clear enough, but no, the man responsible for Custentin's fall was apprehended and revealed that he acted on my order.

“King Arnoul of Burgundy can't abide the utter stupidity of giving two brothers of around the same age the same name, and couldn't be bothered to tell them apart to know who's his future brother-in-law, so he had me remove one of them.”

It's not that far from the truth – that could have caused a costly misunderstanding. I would have preferred it to stay a secret though. Then again, it may keep the dumb away from my gates – and my name spoken in fear.

Which may not be the worst reputation to have.




The Bretons aren't happy about it though, and the nobility clamours for the now sole Custentin to annul his betrothal to the regicidal king's sister. I can only imagine him cowering in fear for his life while his mother and her allies at court declare that it won't happen.

Only for the opposing faction to try to enforce that demand by force.

​

I just hope that it will be worth it to send my men, after adding Montferrat to my lands, to Brittany. I can at least pass it off as being a caring older brother ensuring the safety of the other of my dearest twin siblings.

As soon as I arrive in Brittany, Duke Angelbert informs me – in person – that he'll march against the Muslims in Cantabria, and he'd welcome my assistance. I answer that I will defend Anjou, and he's at least happy with that.

I didn't imagine having to make good on my promise, but as soon as the Breton rebels are put down, I have to face Sultan Yusuf's army.

The Muslims are slaughtered, and I can return home.

To put down peasants resisting my Frenchification campaign. Having risen up in Piémont, they've had the audacity to lay siege to Strasbourg.

“Strike at the seat of the tyrant”, that was their message, enabling them to assemble a mob of 2.731 pitchfork and torch wielders.

How come I know that precise number? I think you know the answer.

Nobody revolts against me and lives.





While my problem is with the peasantry who doesn't know who they are trying to deal with, Charles manages to have some nobles slip away from his control. And no, I don't mean myself. I, at least, stay loyal to the Empire.

The naked cult in Apulia is something else. I would never leave something like that fester long enough to even reach the mind of the local lord.

Not that they stand a chance, but knowing Charles, it will make a great dent into the treasury. Fool.

Spoiler: NSFW (probably)

Myself, I continue bringing rightful Burgundian land into my fold. Duke Childebrand was foolish enough not to give in to my demands before, and he does so again. Thinks he can count on my brother's support, too.

Philippe stands with me, though. I'm not calling him to arms, but he doesn't betray family. Likely he knows what would have awaited him if he did. I am twice victorious in Besançon, and Childebrand surrenders.

It is a pity that the Duchy of Burgundy can continue to exist outside the Kingdom of Burgundy, but I will have to live with that as long as there are more pressing matters to attend to. And as I said before, Italy takes priority with the advance of the Pope's lackeys.

Besides, both Burgundies are already Francian territory.​

Not involving myself with Custentin further cleaning up Brittany nor Charles taking back Vaucouleurs, I invite a peculiar woman into my chambers.

No, it is not the frivolous thing you may be thinking of right now! I don't need anyone but my wife for that. What use is it to take a risk... without any possible gain? As I said before our wedding, we make a good pair.
If we had a reigning Empress, there may be a gain to be had. But I digress.

I always make sure to personally greet any guests coming to my court. Displaced nobles, non-inheriting sons... it always keeps me up to date on the latest gossip in the Christian courts, and enables me to have a well-working network of spies feeding information back to Strasbourg.

How do you think I was able to deal with the product of stupidity in Brittany so quickly if I didn't have that network to count on? I am the King, and that also includes the shadows.

One of these guests is Eugenia di Segni. An older woman, whose apparently only interest is gorging herself during yet another feast. A good facade, which I nevertheless manage to look behind. The wine flowing during feasts has a tendency to loosen tongues, and Eugenia knows this very well. I may be able to learn a thing or two from her.

I couldn't care less if people like me. They only need to respect me and act as I want them to. That's why I do what I do. If I profit from something, I do it, other consequences be damned.

Eugenia is impressed by my philosophy, and promises to support me – the Pragmatic King, as she'll come to call me.

Others have less flattering nicknames for me.​

Her advice is to terrify people. “Control can be achieved by being feared or loved. If you are feared, people won't act against you because of the retaliation that awaits them. If you are loved, people don't want to act against you.

Your Majesty, you have already taken steps towards the easier, first option. It is the option with the higher risk, but also the higher reward. Continue on that path, and even the Emperor will follow your every order.”

If she knew that Charles is already dancing to my tune... Either way, she is right. My respect comes through fear.

Still, I can't neglect Italy, and so send my men to collect Como. Countess Micaela puts up some token resistance, but her men hastily retreat when faced with my army, and so we simply take the county without much bloodshed.

More blood has been shed in East Francia. Ludwig VI now fully lost any right to pretend to that crown, as Jarl Gandalfr of Angria ravaged his northern lands. In the aftermath, the lords in the south of the defunct kingdom declared their vassalage null and void.

More opportunities for me. But first, I have to come to Duke Thomas' defence in Anjou. Ruling with fear is good, but I shouldn't neglect such an important and traditional alliance.

Having saved Thomas from his greedy vassals, I turn my attention towards the rich city of Genoa. Sadly, Duchess Maria died quickly after my declaration of war, leaving her lands to be inherited by her granddaughter, Queen Cassia of Sardegna e Corsica.

I wonder if the Italians will already dislike me merely for being a man. They seem to be accustomed to female rulers. Bah, who cares.

My problem is twofold: One, a defeat in Genoa. The Queen had a number of mercenaries at her side, and while my men held the ground well enough, I had to concede defeat after being wounded as the young Duke of Transjurania fell.

Retreating to Milan, I was sadly quite close to Papal lands, and Silvester III's emissaries kept pestering me. “Join the crusade, join the crusade! For the glory of God!”

“Where to?”

“The Holy Land, of course!”

“Isn't Jerusalem a Christian kingdom?”

“Well, yes. Coptic, to be precise.”

“Do you want to attack fellow Christians?”

“Heavens, no! Even if the prospect is appealing to some cardinals.”

“Then who are you fighting?”

“The heathen Abbasid scourge!”

“Perhaps I lack spiritual wisdom, but I don't understand. What for?”

“Most of Oultrejourdain!”

“So, let me get it right. His Holiness wishes to send thousands of men to their deaths for a little piece of insignificant desert.”

“Not insignificant desert! A precious part of the Holiest Kingdom in Christendom!”

“Which is in Coptic hands...”

“For a new crown, of course!”

“... good luck finding a would-be king of nowhere.”

“His Holiness expects contribution, even if it is not in warriors of Christ...”

The emissary smiled, looking towards the chest two servants carried behind him. I may have threatened to stuff him into the chest with a gag and send him back to Rome.

While I didn't do it, Silvester's response comes swiftly. I am apparently a disgrace to Christendom – twice.

I find it telling that His Holiness doesn't pick the sharpest weapon in his arsenal and excommunicates me. My reputation must precede me if he stops at a strongly worded message.

My heir Raynaud looks like he won't become a friend of the church any time soon after that episode.

Silvester truly hates Arnoul – the event (with its repercussions!) fired twice.​

Speaking of whom, Raynaud's betrothal brings in Gascognian troops, and we end up slaughtering the Sardinians. Interestingly, the mercenaries they have employed are Alsatians, professing to follow in Duke Raynaud the Exile's footsteps.

They won't carve out a realm for themselves against me, in any case. Genoa's riches will flow into my treasury forthwith, which leaves me with too much land in my direct control. According to everyone around, at least.

Thus I name my newborn son Raymond Duke of Savoy. If anyone believes that he's the actual ruling Duke, they need to get their mind checked. But it makes people happy, and keeps me in control.





Maurice d'Angoulême is the poor sod who'll have to lord over the forlorn desert, but I'm sure the Muslims won't let him “enjoy” his new position of “power” for long.

A step up from the crusade for Lotharingia – now fought for THREE counties!​

But that success gives some of my vassals ideas. Count Ernst of Zurich decided that he should be treated to an extravagant feast by Baron Guilhem upon his return from the crusade.

Guilhem on the other hand didn't remember having promised to pay for it, and demands that Ernst should pay for the banquet. He should have brought back enough riches from crusading for that.

Ernst replies that he at least fought for the glory of Christendom instead of sitting in his castle twiddling his thumbs.

Guilhem draws breath to respond, but is interrupted by me, loudly clearing my throat.

“I can think of plenty of things I'd rather do. But no, two of my sworn men decide to come to me for some inconsequential matter and keep droning on when it is clear from the very first word how I will judge that matter!”

“See, I am...”, Count Ernst starts.

“Silence! The king speaks!” The guard glares at him. I glare at him. Guilhem... cowers. Ernst follows his example.

“I opposed that senseless crusade. Anyone thinking of the matter beforehand knows that this endeavour doesn't entitle one to anything within my kingdom.”

Guilhem smiles and bows.

“I am not done.” The manner in which I pronounced these words gets their absolute attention. Oh, you know what I mean. “The next time, I shall make you acquainted to the tools I have at my disposal for truth-seeking. Believe me, I would judge based on nothing but the truth. Have I made myself clear?”

Both bow, acquiesce, and make a hasty retreat.

They shall not bother me again.

Perhaps Emperor Charles III will. His father died as soon as he declared war on the Hakamid Malikate. And this new Emperor seems to already be well-acquainted with the tools I mentioned. Of course he's a dwarf, and one with ever-changing opinions to boot. I feel like he'll be harder to work with than his father.

Additionally, he's been blessed with three children.

“Blessed”.

It's an open secret that one's stranger than the other. And of course, his heir Loup is yet another dwarf. The Age of Dwarves for Francia isn't over yet.

I wonder if one of my descendants will have to control a stuttering, dwarfish Emperor with three eyes and one arm. With these Karlings, anything's possible.

Unsurprisingly, nobody wanted to marry them – at least while they weren't the children of the Emperor.​

 

[alscon]

Ch.16 - The Emperor's new job​

Things are calm for a while, which is a nice change of pace. My treasury needs to recover before my next campaign, and so I can spend my time getting a good look at Charles III. From the comfy position as his spymaster.

On one hand, it's a good choice. I'm clearly capable. Few are those who would dare act against me, and with the appointment of Godefroy of Aquitaine as Marshal, Charles might think that he's appeased the majority of the realm already. Especially as it is my brother who leads the newly founded liberty faction, and Philippe wouldn't do anything without my approval.

On the other hand, if ever His Imperial Highness might think of doing something which I don't approve of, he leaves himself basically defenceless. Doesn't matter if you interpret that as trust given in advance or an attempt to appease, I do like that.

Then again, I could also force him to give me that position, so he's likely just chosen not to delay the inevitable. Though the position of steward – or chief embezzler – would hold it's appeal too.

Just as I think I've got a good read on him, Charles decides to lead the troops against the hopelessly overwhelmed Muslims on a whim.

Good. Leaves me free reign to build up my reputation even more, using Almodis' bastard as unwitting pawn. Merely by parading her around at court, I remind my fellow vassals about the countess' fate. Speculation does the rest.

Who knew that I spend my nights in her cell, doing a multitude of different things, one more terrible than the other? Soon enough, nobody dares speak in my presence, which is when I declare that it's a job well done and head home, my network of spies in place.

I return to find my heir greeting me, a man grown. Raynaud shows some promise as a leader of men, but mostly so in battle. Unpredictable and full of disdain for the church, he is a good candidate to continue our legacy, but he's also a reminder of why we live in the Age of the Dwarves.

No, he's not one himself! But he's still a small man. Perhaps he will still grow. Valence is called a giant woman by many, and I myself am still towering over her and basically everyone I've ever seen, even though nobody calls me a giant.

Raynaud doesn't have my natural presence to emphasize his actions. I predict that he may have a hard time at first. Philippe offered to celebrate his coming of age in town, but knowing his... preferences, I preferred to take him up on that personally.

A good night, further improving our sibling bond.

Yellow line for size comparison. Arnoul is a very imposing man. His second son (Raymond, Duke of Savoy) actually is a giant (child).​

Oh, and I did mention dwarves again, didn't I? Well, sometimes you need to go with the flow in these matters. I have my very own court dwarf now. Duchess Tiburge of Transjurania is half my size and my new Marshal.

Sounds ridiculous, but she's surprisingly competent and actually my best choice for the office. I've sent her to quash any unrest in my new Italian lands.

There's a plethora of possible reactions from the peasantry, but I like imagining the best ones. Being accommodating as they are accustomed to female rule. Outraged as I'm merely sending half a person to watch them. And either way, cowering in fear as the troops with her remind them that it is my reign they have to follow, and that I don't tolerate fools.

A good, loyal council reflects a healthy reign. I'm well-placed on that front.​

Speaking of which, Countess Agalina of Brescia, Trent and Padua thought herself capable to fend off my army. Well, her titles are easier to list now, and Raynaud managed to earn his first victory, hopefully of many. He did well, and people start to speak of the Etichonen name as a dynasty of conquerors.

That will make it easier to convince people that we actually do have an excellent reason to enforce our rule in foreign lands.

In more... domestic matters, my close watch of the Emperor keeps paying off. Getting his youngest daughter to blabber out familial secrets is as easy as taking sweets from a baby – which is unsurprising, as she behaves like one in many ways. “Cruel innocence”, I think one may call it.

It helps that Charles is completely blind to his children's countless faults. He dotes hopelessly on Prince Loup, and often gesticulates at head height... probably in a futile attempt to get noticed.

The people at court either describe him as perceptive (an opinion I can hardly share, looking at his progeny) or impotent. Not just to my face, also to my spies. One story especially shines through, related to me by one of my many ears at court:

They say that once, I collided with the Emperor while walking to a council meeting, sending him flying, and just kept going without even noticing, with Charles sending an apology after me. Ha! That's what I want to hear. Even if not completely true, there's a grain of truth – I did kick Charles' father once, but I noticed. The part about the apology is completely true.

My mistake was involving the Empire's Patriarch. That old fool must have blabbered out something to Charles while he was in a mood to change things, and the Emperor was emboldened enough to actually denounce my efforts.

His sudden backbone makes it clear that I won't be able to push him around like everyone else. Which may be a problem, especially if he wants to move against me.

Well, I can't let that happen now, can I?

​

In any case, preparation is key. And it might be a good idea to fool Charles into thinking I am otherwise occupied.

So I deploy smokescreens. Everywhere. My men march against Speyer, lulling Charles into a sense of false safety.

Count Milon is persuaded to seek independence. The son of the instigator of the War of the Dwarves is easily fooled into thinking that his great father wouldn't want him to answer to the Emperor whose influence he so vigorously fought. Milon has no chance to actually succeed, but it diverts Charles' attention.

Then I release my insane prisoner Carlo Cambiano, and send him to court. The man is smart, even if time in my dungeons wasn't kind to him. Which makes him the perfect agent. Mad enough that few pay attention, smart enough to notice his surroundings and report to me.

That way, I manage to learn that Theodoulos Makedon, the Emperor's nephew, isn't only at court, but has close bonds with his uncle. I learn a lot about Charles' habits – and am free to walk the personal quarters without suspicion to meet with my “friend”.

So I have access, know the routines, and am perfectly placed to strike. To Charles' great relief, I announce that I am marching against Bavaria, for Sankt Gallen. Taking on a kingdom for a single county without great significance – that doesn't appear to be a smart move.

But I have my reasons, and my alliances are ready. If it makes my enemies wonder if I slowly deteriorate from my dangerous course of pragmatic efficiency, all the better.

I insist on having a great feast before I leave first thing in the morning. The Imperial guards make an effort not to participate, but it clearly tires them out, and gives a bunch of my people a chance to distract them under the guise of drunken revelry.

And when the moment is opportune, we snatch the Emperor, and he takes place, bound and gagged, in a chest, allegedly filled with special documents pertaining to my role as spymaster.

It's a good thing he's a dwarf.


When I leave in the morning, the Emperor's absence is seen as yet another sign that we grow distant. It's likely that some of his men already have orders to prepare to march against me. If they knew that he was actually present at my departure! Ha!

The Empire's in my hands now.




I leave behind a capital soon to be in turmoil, and join my army, advancing deep into Bavarian territory without sighting the enemy yet.

A few weeks later, I announce that Charles is in good health and good care. To Prince Loup, who's honestly not a danger at all, I send word that his father wishes to play hide-and-seek, and that as long as he isn't found, I shall take the reins of Francia. The young man, who has the mental capacity of an at most ten-year-old, apparently happily nods and starts the search.






Everyone else understands. My vassals start to provide higher taxes too, anything to prevent me from striking against them. I've pulled off a truly excellent scheme.

My heir on the other hand still has a lot to learn. He's been planning my permanent guest Almodis' demise. Probably hoping that I would then grant him Cambray to hold in my stead. Well, everything that episode taught me is that I better keep him where I can watch (and teach) him.

The clerics of the realm also show that they are incapable of keeping anything secret. Prince-Bishop Landari of Nice is not only hopelessly unsuited to his post (a godless villain, Waldemar says) – he keeps his sister as his lover.

I believe I shouldn't have to worry about a priest lecturing me any time soon.

The war against Bavaria goes well, and as we near Ludwig VII's capital, I can finally force him into battle. With Gascogne and Anjou at my side, the field is mine, and the king surrenders Sankt-Gallen into my hands. Or rather Count Ernst of Zurich's, whose claim I pressed.

Now, why did I do this? You may recall that Ernst's heir, Mainard, is the Duke of Steyermark. Which would mean that Burgundy loses Ernst's lands upon either one's death.

But not if Ernst holds a duchy and inherits another one. Then Bavaria would lose Steyermark – to me. And the duchy is quite large, which makes it an attractive goal.

Saint-Gall was the piece I needed to elevate Ernst to Duke of Coirhétie (Correzia). And as, for some reason not in any way connected to me, Mainard married fairly late – and an older woman at that – he still is childless.

It would be a pity if anything happened to him.

While Charles nags, and tries to bribe his way out of my hospitality – why would I? – I tell him that the Muslims in Iberia smelled an opportunity. They want to take Gascogne from the leaderless Empire. I assure him that they won't. The money he tries to ransom himself with has better uses, doesn't he think?

No, he doesn't. Pity. Well, I can leave dealing with the suicidal Countess of Trent and Padua, who attacked the Papacy, to Raynaud while I coordinate Francia's defence.

You're welcome, Charles.

Also, I am further simplifying the old woman's list of titles. She appears to be losing it. So she can thank me as well.

Merchants are always a good source of information, and so my network includes plenty of these travelling men. I've been waiting for news from Steyermark for a while now, and so I've been a little disappointed that he could only report that Duke Mainard was bedridden for a while.

I can only hope my men learn from the experience. Speaking of which, I've begun to make use of the old tools in the torturing chamber. Not for pleasure, mind you. Half of what the people say there is nonsense, but the rest – can be very valuable information. I intend to make use of any source of information.

And that keeps Charles busy, who actually enjoys this. If I was willing to brag, I could claim that the most powerful man of Catholicism is my personal torturer.

One example of useful knowledge is Ispella de Aristanis. She's a practitioner of witchcraft – which might have come I handy for my men in Steyermark who misjudged the dose of poison for Duke Mainard.

Luckily, the next attempt is more effective. More primitive, certainly, but that doesn't matter. Mob justice – well, that can't happen to me.

Either way, my kingdom grows. My influence reaches far. And the Emperor himself lives only by my grace.

Actually, the most powerful man of Christendom isn't Charles, nor the Basileus. No matter how you look at it - it's me.

 

[alscon]

Ch.17 – The Puppeteer's Resolve


​

The news of Mainard's death coincide with a great victory of Francia's army against the Muslims. While they haven't surrendered yet, I believe it is only a matter of time.

While I am responsible for assembling the army and the general plan of defence, the Marshal, King Godefroy of Aquitaine, will certainly take in the glory of that victory to grow his influence. I now more than ever before have a true political rival.

That shows when my guest draws his last breath. Not Almodis, she's still fine. Emperor Charles III. No, I didn't have him killed, he was useful to me under my guard.

In order to have a good transition of power, I had the dwarf's corpse stuffed back into the chest and make the same journey the other way around.

Loup, who was still “playing hide-and-seek”, happily opens the chest as soon as it's back, and lo and behold, the Emperor's in there! I congratulate Loup, but apparently he's taken too long. (A few years do that to a man.)

I greet him as Your Imperial Majesty, but don't bother making anything resembling a bow. Others will probably have to lie down in order to show their respect to the childish dwarf. Me, I control him. The arrangement from before can continue, I declare. The spymaster holds the strings of the realm.


While the Emperor's parents were too close to each other for him to understand or react, Godefroy sees a chance. He declares his support for Loup's uncle (and fellow dwarf) Thierry. I'll have to keep an eye on him. Prince Arnault wants the crown as well, but he's not that much of a threat.

As long as Burgundy doesn't support any of these factions, they'll have a hard time gaining more support. People don't want to antagonize me. Especially as I just overwhelmed the crazy queen of Sardegna e Corsica, seizing Luni without much resistance.

Loup's son and heir (I still wonder how that happened) follows right into his daddy's footsteps, so I won't have to worry about him. Though he's already as tall as Loup.

Whenever the Emperor thinks he can order me around (or wishes me to disappear - “I bet you can hide as well as daddy!” could be interpreted like that, though I prefer to take it at face value like everything he says), I shove the same document into his face I showed his grandfather back in the day. But instead of containing a threat to increase taxes twofold, I tell Loup that it's a decree forbidding anyone to play with him.

To his dismay, I've already read that. Which means that I am sadly unable to serve as his playmate. A pity, truly.

The Emperor under my thumb, I work to spread my influence some more. I install my cousin Josselin in Verona, leaving no simple target left for the papal lackeys – if they wish to expand in the north, they'll have to take on the Crazy Queen, the merchants of Venice or myself.

I grant some royal privileges to the city of Haguenau. The prosperity of Strasbourg attracts more and more people who wish to be close to the seat of power, and thus it makes sense to increase my wealth with a second trade centre in the county.

And then I land a real coup, cementing my status as prime monarch of Christendom. Doux Paschalis of Opsikion, the heir to the Byzantine Empire, marries my daughter Judith. As he's a coward, he'll surely listen to whatever she says. Which will be according to my interests.

Closer to home, Duke Childebrand of Burgundy meets his maker, and his big, mad son Ekkehard inherits – a Coptic Christian. He's desperate for some guarantee to keep his title, and seeks an alliance with me due to our siblings' marriage. Another man who will support my grip on the Imperial Crown.

Pestering the court with his stupid requests, the Emperor annoys me. Thus I am quite grateful that the Muslims attack again. The Emir of Navarra leads an alliance to reclaim his lands. While I don't think he'll succeed, I send Loup to Iberia to fight him. If he survives or not, it doesn't matter. I'll be able to control his heir just as well.

But before the departure south, the knights of the army decide to organize a tourney. And during that tourney, Count Josselin tests my resolve.

I named an utter fool Count of Verona. As the next bout is delayed, Josselin walks up to me from behind, and pushes me into the horses' water troughs, laughing.

Now I know what “bored out of his mind” means.


The laughter ceases immediately as I stand up, water dripping from everywhere, my face the very image of silent fury. If looks could kill, Josselin would drop dead immediately. In hindsight, he'd probably prefer that.

The Count backs down, hands raised. “It was all in good fun, Your Majesty!”

“Was it, now? Oh, you'll have more fun than you can imagine in the next weeks. Guards!”

“You can't! That's tyranny!” Despair marks Josselin in every imaginable way. It finally dawns on him that he made a terrible mistake.

My loyal bodyguards arrive swiftly, and drag Josselin into a cell, all while he's screaming. “My liege! Your Majesty!... Cousin!”

He's learning soon enough that he won't get any better treatment for being nobility. Or kin, for that matter. His rich clothes are confiscated. Then I whip his back bloody. The Count's struggles against his fate slowly subdue. His back ruined, he gets dressed in ill-fitting rags collected from a recently deceased urchin. Then thrown into the oubliette.

All he can bring out is a single whisper before the trap closes. “Mercy...”



No.

Worryingly, the Francian army loses the first battle against the Muslims, and the opportunists circle the crown. Godefroy proclaims that the empire needs a real man as ruler, not just some childish puppet, omitting that Thierry would dance to his strings. Arnault and some border lords also make some noise, but who cares for them.

More problematic is another, big alliance of nobles. Or is it truly a problem? These people want to reduce Paris' influence on their matters. They've seen me do whatever I want, and they want to do that as well. With me preparing my men to strike against Bavaria once again, I don't need a civil war to deal with. And again, I both fully understand and profit myself.

Thus Francia's nobility gains more autonomy.

Josselin didn't make it long. I hope that will serve as a final lesson to anyone daring to act against me. It's the perfect time to turn towards diplomacy, while the Count's fate is fresh in people's minds.

Bernard of Grünningen is a Frenchman ruling over one of the Swabian counties. He's a very capable administrator, and utterly terrified of the force at the border. Ever since Saint-Gall fell into my realm, he's been fearing for Burgundian armies to ravage his county.

That doesn't mean that he's willing to abandon his sovereignty immediately – but unlike the actual Swabian counts or the Italian ones, he's willing to negotiate. No bloodshed may be necessary for him to swear his fealty to me. All he asks for is a donation to further improve the county.

As Count Bernard isn't a fool; I'm sure he's been thinking about improving his defences. My new Archbishop Albrecht – unsurprisingly heeding my orders more than Rome's – has gained plenty of support in Tyrol. I wish to further connect Steyermark to my kingdom – and the duchy of Tyrol is a good step into that direction.

It is well defensible, but with my allies, spared from fighting in the empire, I shall claim the victory.

Bernard's improvements in defence are swiftly put to the test as Ludwig VII lays siege to his castle. He manages to fend off my army at first, but after my allies' arrival, Ludwig's army is completely overwhelmed in Sigmaringen. The Count's defences held, and Bavaria's army is in shambles, their numbers halved further after the battle of Marsetten.

This emboldens the Slavs, and Maćko of Leuchtenburg attacks Ludwig in the north. It looks like it's only a matter of time until my men bring me the duchy.

Thus I can split my forces, and send half of them west to support Angelbert of Anjou against the would-be usurper Gilbert.

Tiburge's marriage brings another alliance, with East Franconia, as my men advance deeper into Bavaria, reaching the Alps. The advance brings in more money, and Valence's diligent spending means that I can put it to good use.

Keeping an eye on Godefroy, most of it. The victories against the Muslims made him a respected commander, and after Thierry's passing, he found another prospective puppet to back for the throne.

Innsbruck's defences prove to be formidable, and frustrate my besieging army so much that I decide to take it into my own hands. But no sooner have I arrived at the siege camp, whipping my commanders back into shape – literally – that I get the message that Ludwig lays siege to Strasbourg with the remnant of his men.

Marching back would take too long. I can only hope that the capital holds long enough for relief to come from the Angevin lands.

It takes too long. After Innsbruck finally falls, we intercept and crush Ludwig's force in Rottweil, too late. The king escapes with my daughter Jeanne as hostage, dragging out his inevitable defeat some more.

Cursing the long sieges, I remain back in the capital and assemble all military engineers I can find. I need better siege engines. With Valence's full support, I drive the engineers to new heights, and they soon present mangonels to replace my current onagers.

These new weapons are put to good use, and Ludwig finally surrenders the duchy. The castle of Innsbruck falls into royal hands, and it was definitely worth it.

The castle's defences are strong. The town is well-placed for trade. And, most importantly, the mines are rich – especially the Schwaz Mine. The mine's foreman assures me that they've only scratched the surface and can provide silver for generations to come.

As an excellent royal holding, I therefore give the merchant city of Gênes (Genoa) into the citizens' hands, though they have to answer to my son Charles. And to get the church fully satisfied, I nominate an Archbishop of Provence.

I wanted Charles to be a duke, but the county of Luni only has a city holding, which I noticed too late – thus the Republic has a ten-year-old mayor.​

Tyrol has its own share of inheritance problems. The old Countess of Lienz has named the even older Duke of Carinthia her heir. I will have to deal with that just like I did Mainard.

But with the experience of the duke's fate, I decide to do it more efficiently, as the countess may drop over sooner than Ernst did. I task Raymond with supervising the child-dwarf's court and set out to scope out the weakness in Carinthia's security myself.

My grandfather apparently found solitude in the mountains very relaxing. A little time for myself sounded nice at the moment.

It was a stupid idea. While I left in perfectly sunny weather, it soon turned to heavy rainfall, for days. The rain turned the path muddy and slippery, and as I reached the pass height, I saw that I wouldn't get back to civilization that day. Spending the night cold and wet wasn't good for my health.

Hodierne having passed at some point with nobody having the guts to inform me, I hired a new physician, who is just as capable. The cold was soon gone, and I could give the signal to move ahead with my agents' plan.

My alpine agents should stick to simple mob agitation, as the spider they placed in Duke Guntbert's chambers didn't kill him.

Still, not everything was lost. Word of the spider's bite reached Countess Liutgard, and she keeled over. Apparently she could connect the dots. With her last breath, she declared that Lienz shall stay within the most wonderful kingdom of Burgundy.

Success in failure. A new feeling. Doesn't feel all that bad, actually.

What feels far worse is my strength, fading away. As a long-reigning monarch, on one side I have achieved far more than men like my father, dead in battle at a fairly young age. But on the flipside, that means that my body has time to degenerate. I am slowly wasting away.

My time on the battlefield is over. As is my time at the Imperial court. I shall direct my realm from Strasbourg, my iron grip enforced through my chosen men, first amongst them my sons Raynaud and Raymond.

While the Duke of Savoy's focus is on Paris, Raynaud has to take the lead in the Swabian Wars. Bernard of Gruninge (Grünningen) swore fealty willingly, the others only answer to steel.

Amongst them are the counts who newly won their independence from Jerusalem. Anglo-Saxon Copts from a dynasty originating in Slavic lands. What a curious path their ancestors have taken.

My brother joins in with his own claim as Duke of Alsace, and my troops help him seize Breisgau. Montprince (Fürstenberg), Monhaut (Hohenberg) and Ulm become part of Burgundy, and are placed under the Duchy of Souabe (Swabia), a title I grant my grandson Géraud.

I need Raynaud to deal with my orders, and leaving the child with lands of his own will not split the inheritance in the future.

The weakness of my body leaves me with time to contemplate my actions.

Diplomatically, I achieved great success. The Burgundian Crown is well-connected within and outside of the Empire it dominates. Especially the Angevin alliance is still well-upheld, even if my troops arrived too late to prevent the latest reduction of the duke's authority. The Emperor is under control, and the Basileus answers to Judith's authority – thus indirectly to mine.

Speaking of which, my family is doing well. Even if my sister Aude met a grisly fate at the hands of Breton peasants, who did end up taking some sort of revenge for their king's demise – even if most of them likely never heard of it, decades after the fact.

My marriage was satisfying in every way. Raynaud is short, but capable enough as my heir. Raymond is imposing and will definitely carry on my legacy in the shadows. Only poor Charles perished to the dangers of a merchant city – namely, as a port for disease.

Internally, my authority is unchallenged. People either cower before me, are my close family or own their entire power thanks to me. Those who do not are swiftly removed. Thanks to the examples made, none give me reason to.

And in terms of power – both through military and subterfuge, I more than doubled my lands.

Now that I am fading away from the public eye after five decades of rule, I hear that people have begun to attribute the epithet of “the Great” to my name. Or “the Ruthless”.

I prefer the first. And it is as such that I will finally wilt away. But not without a last success – I've sent my men to Padua.

Sadly, I don't think I will see them return.

​

**************************

As I've announced before, I've begun to Frenchify the names according to Arnoul's campaign. When possible, I'm going with the actual French name, for others I'll go a bit more freestyle.

Raynaud is a Rapacious Atheist, described as devoid of a moral compass. Looks like he's going to try to be a smaller version of his father...