Part One: Saint Stefan the Grand Zupan Continued
Castle Nemanjic, 1188:
Stefan was tired. Extremely tired. It was his fifty-third birthday, and it felt as if the continuous struggles of the past were finally catching up to him. He sat on his simple oaken throne in the grand hall while court members and foreign dignitaries poured into the room to greet him. Of the many guests, he saw a Bulgarian, Greek, Bosnian, Croatian, and Hungarian diplomat. He also saw a dignitary for the Patriarch and many important Serbian noble family members. This was a special day for all. It was a day of remembrance for his friends, but a day of wolves for his enemies. He knew they would all be curious as to his vitality. He also knew they would be checking out his sons to see if they looked like capable rulers. Stefan understood the precarious situation of his small Serbian state. He knew his neighbors were just waiting to pounce upon his kingdom once his carcass turned cold. That was the sad truth about the land of the South Slavs. It was a place of a constant struggle of power between the Byzantines, Hungarians, Bulgarians, and, yes, the Serbians.
Stefan saw the chancellor, Katrina, walk to his side. She whispered into Stefan’s ear, “Look at all the people who have come to honor you my lord. Surely they’re all here just to pay respects to you.” Katrina let a small smirk appear on her lips after that. She was a distant niece of Stefan, and he trusted her completely in the role of chancellor. She was one of his subjects that Stefan put much faith in. The other subject Stefan trusted, Ljutomisl Konstantin, had just entered the room. He surveyed the surrounding crowd, then started to make his way to Stefan. Ljutomisl was an exceptional soldier from common birth. Stefan met Ljutomisl on his last military campaign where he fought the forces of the Byzantine Empire with Hungary. During the siege of Zeta, the Byzantines launched a night raid on Stefan’s camp. It was a complete surprise, and many high ranking military officials in Stefan’s army were killed. In the middle of the fight, though, a mere sergeant began to rally the Serbian forces as chaos was everywhere. His name was Ljutomisl. Ljutomisl was able to rally a sizeable force under his command that subsequently pushed the Greeks out of the camp. For his heroic actions, Stefan made Ljutomisl his marshal. Stefan knew he could trust Ljutomisl, for he had no ties with the petty noble families that plagued the stability of his reign.
“My lord, congratulations on your fifty-third birthday, and may your reign last for another fifty!” Ljutomisl said as he bowed before Stefan and gave a nod to Katrina. This got a chuckle out of Stefan. “Now now,” He said, “I will be lucky to reign another five let alone fifty! I thank you kindly my good marshal.” This made Ljutomisl bow even deeper as his cheeks flushed with color. “You do me to much honor, my lord,” he said. Stefan rose from his chair slowly. The creaks and cracks while rising made him grimace in pain. He put his hands on his marshals’ shoulders and said, “Certainly not Ljutomisl. You serve me well. Now, if you would be so kind, take charge of security for this event. I feel safer knowing my heirs lives are in your hands.” Ljutomisl quickly rose and stood erect in front of Stefan. With a look of pride on his face, he saluted his liege and briskly walked to the guard room. Once he had entered, you could hear him yelling at the guards to be on full attention for this event. “What a find Ljutomisl is, eh my lord?” Katrina said with a grin. Stefan smiled back and replied, “Most definitely. He is a man of great skill and loyalty.” With that, Stefan’s attention was drawn back to the entranceway, for his two vassals, Ivan of Naissus and Aleksii of Ragusa, had just entered the room.
As the two men entered the room, they took a quick glance at Stefan. They did not immediately come to greet him though. Stefan did not expect that they would. Instead, Aleksii walked over to the Croatian diplomat while Ivan walked to the Byzantine dignitary. Both started to discuss something in whispered voices with these foreigners. Stefan could not help but grimace. “The nerve of those two my lord. They do not even take the time to greet their liege before they start plotting with your enemies,” said Katrina. Stefan retook his seat, and turned to his chancellor. In a low voice, he said, “They probably believe me to be a senile old man who won’t notice. Or, maybe, they do this on purpose. They believe themselves strong enough to bring this issue out in the open. They have chosen their side Katrina, and your assumptions earlier this year are correct. They plan to rebel against me, or rebel against my heir.” Stefan let out a snort and smiled at his chancellor. “Lucky for us, I’m not as senile as they believe. I also have you, my trusty chancellor, and Ljutomisl at my side,” said Stefan, “Do not worry, our plan will soon commence to dispose of these vermin within my domain. Lower Serbia shall be unified under one family, and then the rest of Serbia shall be freed.” Katrina gave a short half bow to Stefan, and said, “Most certainly my lord, I must go mingle with our guests for a while.” With that, Katrina walked off into the crowd in front of the throne. She ran into a Hungarian diplomat almost immediately and began to talk. Yes, Stefan had complete faith in Katrina. He also had faith in his plan to unify Serbia.
“Father!” Stefan heard from behind him. He could tell immediately that it was his three sons. Stefan stood up and walked behind the throne where he saw Ana, his wife, and his three sons waiting. Old age was starting to take away Ana’s beauty, but Stefan still remembered the Ana of young. He gave her a big hug and whispered into her ear, “How is my love doing today? I hope you’ve had a better time then me.” Ana returned the hug tightly and gave Stefan a kiss on his cheek before replying, “I’m fine my dear. The house has been like a kicked anthill today, with the preparing of the feast and all. I’m sorry you’re not having a good time Stefan.” Stefan released his wife with a sigh and turned to his sons. All three of them, Vukan, Stefan, and Rastko, were in their finest clothes. They had been spending the day socializing with all of the young men that came from foreign lands and the Serbian countryside. Earlier that day, many martial games were held between the young men and boys. Vukan and Rastko did well, but Stefan was the Tournament champion for the young boys division. He had a laurel crown on his head and was beaming from ear to ear. Vukan was the oldest and looked almost ready to take a position in the court, and Rastko was not too far behind in age. Stefan, the youngest of the three, was not even close to being a man yet, but he had already proven his martial prowess. His three boys were the joy and hope of Stefan’s life. He knew they would be able to rule the Serbian lands well.
Stefan could not help but smile as he greeted his boys, “How are my heirs doing today? I hear you won the tournament Stefan, good work!” Stefan the younger grew an even wider grin and began to jump up and down. “I did father! I’m the best of my age in martial skills!” Stefan the younger said. Stefan clapped him in the back. He said, “I’m very proud of you all boys, and I know you can succeed in defeating our enemies. Some of those enemies are out in that hall right now.” Stefan lost his smile and took a stern look to his boys. He said slowly and quietly, “Boys, I’m an old man. And I don’t know how long I have left on this earth. When I die, it will be up to you to work together in defeating our enemies. Are you three ready for that responsibility?” All three of them nodded their heads vigorously. Stefan could tell all three of them were motivated and completely devoted to the cause of the Nemanjic dynasty. Stefan let the smile back on his face and said, “Now, I must go back to the throne. It is time to start this ceremony. Let it end quickly so we can head to the feast!”
