Voivode Court of Moldavia-Wallachia

[unmerged(20844)]

In Vienna, at the meeting of the Dunav Trade Syndicate​

Soon after the scene at Mihail's court in Turnovo, he ordered Gavrail Stefan, Boyar of Vidin, to attend the meeting of the Syndicate in Vienna.
The envoy was to see to it that everything regarding Bulgaria's admission went smoothly. The blunders of a diplomat mattered to Mihail only to the extent that his country's position was jeopardized by someone's foolishness. Gavrail would make sure none of the members saw any fault for this incident in Bulgaria's court. Meanwhile, he asked a guard to inform the Chairman that a delegation from Bulgaria had arrived and waited to be called.

 

[Elias Tarfarius]

The Archbishop of Salzburg grumbled to himself as he entered the Syndicate Hall after a short trip by barge down the Danube. How had he become the servant boy of Duke Martin? He cursed the name Wittelsbach in his prayers even night and curse the day Salzburg had been give to Bavaria. He had once been a prince too, prince of a prosperous city on the river. He would have signed the charter of the Syndicate in his own right. Then something came to the Archbishop's mind, perhaps being here was the first step to regaining his power. Already he would be respected at the meeting because he was a churchman and then at home he could take credit and gain points with the burghers again. The clergyman quickened his pace and came to put his arm on the shoulder of the guard.

You sirrah, announce me as loudly and forcefully as possible. You shall 50 years less in Purgatory if you do so, as well as these 50 florins. I am the humble Sigismund von Volkersdorf, Archbishop of Salzburg and envoy of the Duke of Bayern-Salzburg. Tell the Chairman... *pointing to the main room*

 

[von Streusser]

December 1455, the Third Year of the House Litovoi Blood Feud​

Assault on Castle Iasi​

The only sound that echoed down the cold stone hallway was the quick repeated slapping of footfalls. The feet were wrapped in leather boots, all of which belonged to Stefan Litovoi, son of Prince-Regent Bogdan, now Stefan III...Voivode of the twin thrones of Moldavia-Wallachia for little more than three days. Stefan's breath came in short ragged gasps as he sprinted down the empty corridor, chased by a deafening silence.

It had begun innocently enough, with the sack of a small village named Tirgu Jiu. They had taken little notice at the time, if any. The local warlords had called for some support, and had received nominal attention. But then the attacks were stepped up, the number of enemy forces involved increased in size. Hastily assembled loyalist levies were defeated quickly and easily, and as the rebel victories mounted more formerly loyal nobles saw a chance to get in on the ground floor with the man who looked like he would be the victor: Dracul Litovoi.

A cousin of the ruling Litovois, his father had mysteriously disappeared just before his brother, Stefan III's grandfather took the throne. Dracul never allowed his followers to forget the convenience of this situation, and had let his hate fester and grow, just as his forces had, for years. Finally, he had struck, and now controlled the entire realm with one exception: Castle Iasi. And that exception was now wavering in the wind and threatening to fall.

Stefan was not chased by silence long. Down the corridors behind him rolled the collective roar of an attacking army...they had breached the gates of the castle. He looked over his shoulder once, and saw three men charging down the hallway after him, weapons raised. Stefan took a quick right turn....

...and stopped dead for a moment. "Oh for the love of..."

BOOM!!​

He dove through a nearby open doorway as the cannon fired, and he heard it blast away substantial chunks of the walls and floors where he had been just moments ago. He yanked himself to his feet and clenched his fists. "THAT IS MY CANNON, YOU BASTARDS!!! MINE!!" He took several long moments to catch his breath...where was he?

He recognized the room a moment later. It was a familiar place, where he'd spent many days as a child, stealing pastries. The kitchens. He heard footsteps nearing on his position, undoubtedly the men who had been chasing him moments ago, and he searched for a weapon. Something, anything. When he heard a door on the far side of the kitchen burst open, he grabbed the nearest thing at hand...

A three foot hard genoa salami.

Whirling to face this new unexpected threat, he saw a young man, about his age, and a girl of the same age enter the room, weapons drawn. They noticed him with a start, then lowered their weapons. "My lord?" asked the boy, quickly, then rushed to him, the girl in close pursuit. They reached him just as the three men who had been chasing Stefan came through the blasted kitchen doorway behind him.

Nicolae leapt into action first, and seized the moment of surprise that Stefan's former pursuers took. With a fierce howl, he lunged at the nearest rebel and slashed him with his saber, taking his left arm clean off. The rebel screamed and fell backwards. Xena had followed his suit by now, and opened a second rebel from stem to stern with an uppercut slice. The third man spun past them however, and engaged the Voivode, thrusting forward with his blade. Stefan sidestepped, and brought the salami up over his head and down again with a vicious strike to the man's head. He reeled from the impact, and Stefan use the moment to withdraw his improvised weapon and strike again, this time to the face. A fountain of blood erupted from the assailant's nose and mouth, and he dropped to his knees. Stefan launched into a brutal rage, battering the man again and again with the imported sausage until it split roughly in half. This didn't even slow the Voivode down however, as he grabbed both halves and began bashing his foe even faster than before. The man was on the ground by now, and Stefan's assault had rendered him motionless.

"My Lord...I think that one's dead...my Lord!" Nicolae barked, and Stefan looked up, a wild look in his eye. He was panting, his shoulders heaving. As reason once more overtook him, he dropped the bloody salami and closed his eyes. Nicolae interjected again. "My Lord, please, take my blade. It should be a little more efficient." He handed Stefan the saber, hilt-first, and the Voivode took it gratefully. Nicolae rummaged through the cupboards briefly and came up with a handful of large butcher knives and a meathook.

"Where the hell were those when I was looking?" Stefan muttered, then looked the two over. He had seen them before, students of his aunt Maia. They had rushed to his defense, and probably saved his life. A loyal soldier was so rare these days. "Your names?"

"Nicolae Pitesti and Xena Radu."

"Keep by my side, and you'll be putting 'Knight' in front of those names shortly. There's a cannon out there, MY cannon, and we need to neutralize it. Then we need to take my castle back." Then the rest of the realm, he thought to himself. Well, one step at a time.

"Yes my Lord. What would you have us do?" Nicolae asked.

"There's a doorway on the other side of this group of rooms that leads back out into the halls" Stefan whispered. "If we go around through there, we should take them by surprise, and most importantly away from the business end of that gun. This way!" he hissed, and lead the two through the winding counters and twists of the kitchen system. He knew it by heart. So those afternoons of mischief had paid off one day after all...

They emerged in the hallway behind the gun crew that was staring at the other empty doorway patiently, waiting for someone to step from the portal. Their backs were to the Voivode and his companions. Nicolae waved them all forward silently, and they crept down the cold stone hallway towards their ignorant prey. Blades raised, they tore through the rebel gun crew before they even knew what had happened, Stefan leading the attack and taking part in the violence himself. Blood spattered all over the trio and the cannon which now stood silent witness to ever more carnage.

They stood for a moment, looking at each other. "Well..." Nicolae said quietly "that was easy. Um...what now?"

"We need to find the others. Maia, Petru, Sir Zaharia, Radu, any remaining guards. We have to rally and repulse this assault. Come on!" he urged, and turned to jog down one of the hallways toward a stairwell.

 

[AugCaesar]

It was like an old wives tale, or a ballad sung by some old sailor in a musty tavern on the coasts of Bretagne, Gilles thought as he spun around to face the ramparts, his long gold cloak flowing behind him, bedecking his broad shoulders. His chest was emblazoned with the bull of Moldavia, the sign of his house, and summoning his families courage he charged forth towards the ladder which landed with a crash on the wall not far from him. He brought his leg forward violently, but the ladder, clogged with rebel men at arms hardly budged. It was to be a fight then.

"Pig rebels, though shalt dine on the earth tonite!"

Gilles roared in french, his native language which only found his lips these days in moments of utter passion. His delicate sword, the fine gift of his Italian savior so many years ago when he first found his home in Moldavia after so many travails, swung round him brilliantly and as the first rebel head peered over the ramparts it sailed just as quickly away into the distance victim to the compassionately sharpened blade. At the sight the few loyal guards nearby on the wall rallied to the Gilles du Foegeres, Conte de Hirlau, husband to Maia, the Aunt of the Voivode. As more rebels spewed forth and more and more ladders crashed against the ramparts Gills found himself surrouned my more and more loyal men driven on by his courage. Steel clashed upon steel and bore upon flesh as the heaving combatants battled and in the middle of it all, like a pennant in the breeze the Conte de Hirlau swirlded and slashed his valour a spectacle for all.

Finally the tower was won, but as Gilles stood panting, his strong but no longer young body heaving from fatigue, he had to wonder if all was for vain, for not far from him toward the castles great hall the sound of cannon rung out followed by various screams. With a few quick orders to those nearby to stand guard over this wall he picked to of the men who most distinguished themselves in the melee to accompany him and he ran down towards the tumult. It was to his great surprise on arriving that he found the young Voivode, and two even younger huddled around the cannon in glorious triumph. The tall, dark haired Gilles wiped the blood from his blade, and accompanied by two stout servants of the Voivode approached Stefan,

"Liege," he began deferentially, "I fear for your aunt, though I trust she would always find herself the better of me in such situations, we must find her for her strength will lend us much in this struggle." Gilles let out a deep breath and stared commitedly at the Voivode.

"Let us reclaim what is yours Lord...many rebels have fallen to my blade upon your walls, and I hunger to claim the forfeit lives of the rest..."

 

[Blade!]

Castle Iasi​

December 1455, the Third Year of the House Litovoi Blood Feud​

Xena's arm felt as if it were on fire as the endless swordwork and adrenelin of the past few days forced her muscles into anaerobic metabolism and created the burning lactic acid. In the past year she had seen more blood and death than she had ever imagined was possible five years ago when Lady Maia had brought her to Iasi.

While the "feud" had burned for over threee years, its first year was but glowing embers which nobody took as seriously as might have been needed to extinguish them. No threat was seen, and consequently Xena, and her fellow trainee Nicolae were away on a far journey when the real battles broke out. They had accompanied several prominant Moldavian knights to a tourney in Cairo. Niether had ever left Moldavia, much less traveled far and wide within their own country.

Cairo was an alien world, and even Xena's Qu'ran Arabic was of little use. Nevertheless, the two learned much from the seasoned warriors they traveled with, and Xena even managed to join Nicolae's exploits, hiding her form and having one disasterous run in the lists. The journey was long in duration, and was not Xena's prefered choice, but it was one she felt had to be made. At the time they left, Nicolae's standing in Moldavia was in a tenuous position, having become the target of a powerful land holder after being involved with the dismissal of one of their fellow diciples-in-training.

In their return, they visited the Holy Lands, Rhodes, and the greatest of cities, Consantinople. It was only upon reaching that city that they learned somthing was amiss in Moldavia. That was one year ago. They landed with the knights in Xena's hometown of Izmayil, the provincial capitol of The Dobrudja region. They arrived just in time to participate in a defense of the city, and of Ishmasl Fortress above it, that ultimately failed. Hiding in what was once again the location of a 'hidden mosque' from Venetian times and with Xena's community, they eventually passed out of rebel territory and into the highlands.

In the ten months since they returned to Castle Iasi there had been no more training for them; instead, they had been attached to military units or carrying orders for the Lady Maia if not serving as her personal retuine. They were relied upon more an more and had opportunities to prove their worth after the birth of Maia's second child confined her to the Castle for some time.

Xena, Nicolae, and the young Voivode, crowned only three days ago, stopped breathless over the cannon and mortally wounded rebels. Breathless they watched as a party of loyalist guards led by some pale noble approached.

Xena turned panting towards Nicolae and gave him a grin.

"Listen Nicolae, when you stopped by this morning to go to the great hall for breakfast.. I thought you meant for some porriage or lamb chops or somthing... not a fight for our lives... you really shouldn't play with a lady's feelings like that!"

 

[N Katsyev]

Grazing Hills east of Castle Iasi​

​

​

"Jesus.", wheezed Ostrov as he lent his heavily sweating brow, despite the December cold against the thick neck of his horse, his eyes turning over to gaze upon the army assaulting the very place that he had for so long called home.

Nikolai Eevanivitch, a slight limp still apparent in his step since his duel against the Gelran in Egypt moved up beside the large ambassador, "Damn Papists."

Having left to Serbia some two years ago, the revolt that Ivan Ostrov now saw incarnate before him had only been in its infancy and completely unknown to him. It had been fortunate for him that when he learned of the dire situation in Moldavia, the sack of her last major sites still loyal to the Voivode, that by seeming intervention of fate Nikolai Eevanvitch had passed through on his way back to Russia. As was usual, seeking hospitality in foreign lands, Nikolai had thusly met Ivan in the home of Serbia's Queen. Immediately judging the potential use of this 'church crusader', as at the very least a skilled warior able to get him back into Moldavia, Ivan had set about convincing Nikolai to join him.

While naturally pre-disposed to help a fellow countrymen, Nikolai was a servitor of the church and not one of the state. Though Nikolai sympathized to some degree with Ivan's desire to return to his duties in Iasi, he hardly found it necessary or even worthwhile for a crusader like himself to aid this secular agent, especially when it may put his own life in jeopardy. It was only after Ostrov told Nikolai (dishonestly) that the revolutionaries in Moldavia where Catholic and funded by the Pope himself that he suddenly found 'Sir' Nikolai Eevanvitch quite eagre to save the life of the 'most holy and Orthodox Voivode of Moldavia and Wallachia'. After all, Nikolai had lost that final duel to the Catholic in Egypt - suddenly both men were vital to each other's plans. One's desire to save his adopted home, the other to secure a desperately sought after revenge.

Much to his dissapointment, the journey from Serbia back to Iasi had not included nearly enough encounters with 'Papist lap-dogs' as Nikoali Eevanivitch would have liked. For that matter, it included far too much evasion of forces far too large for the four-man party that was making the journey. Beside Ivan and Nikolai were their respective servants, Stefan a young Moldavian who had accompanied his master to Serbia and Vseslav, Nikolai's aging squire and companion all the way from Novgorod to El Kahira. Now all four were gathered on a tellingly empty hill, once no doubt filled with sheep that had long since been 'requisitioned' by the rebel armies. As sobering as the state of the war-torn Moldavian lands were, their hearts dropped even further when viewing the army that besieged the single remaining major bastion of the loyalists to the Voivode. And now as did his heart sink, Ostrov wracked his brain for some possible way that he and his 'crusader' comrade could somehow alter the course of these destructive events, to get in the castle and defend this family whom he had served and come to care for over so many years.

Exhausted from the rough trip through these hills once so frequented by shephards and their flocks, Ostrov sighed but managed to straighten himself up and look fully upon the army of their enemy, "I'm getting too old for this kind of thing."

"Too old!", gasped Nikolai Eevanivitch in a deep laugh, "Comrade, one is never too old to kill Catholics!"

Somehow, Ostrov managed a wry smile. Maybe due to the results of his own deception, or maybe in humour at the comment itself, maybe it was a queer display of desperation. Whatever the case, even if the Voivode somehow managed to secure the Castle for some short time longer, he was far from having the resources to even lift the siege. They would need allies. It was December, if the Grand Princess agreed to send soldiers which at least was something Ostrov was quite confident of, if one of them left today to inform her and travelled through Russia during the bitter winter, then forces would not be able to be sent for at least another three months - and then what? Another three months of forced march, of a force small enough to make its way through Lithuania... Whatever the case, help from Pskova would be by nature token and long in the coming, even if useful and it made no difference if word was sent to them today or a month from today. No, in the immediate situation, help must come from elsewhere but Ostrov had yet to figure out from where...

 

[Bagricula]

A second bull arrives bearing the heavy red seal of the Holy See, summoning all the bishops of Christendom to an ecumenical council in Monte Cassino. In both Greek and Latin it reads thus:

"Pastores Grecum, Espicati Ecclesiae, et Socii Servi Dei,

"And the LORD called yet again, Samuel. And Samuel arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me." Today my brothers, your Church calls you yet again to fulfill your vows and sit in a congress blessed by the wisdom of the Holy Ghost. Tarry no longer on worldly matters. Although, the cares of your homeland press against the confines of your mind and batter your spirit, remember the words of Our Lord, "But Jesus told him, 'Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.'" Without the salvation of Christ, all the world is condemned to the death of eternal separation from the Most High.

Failure a second time will result in just and proper penalties according to the forms and will be considered in the revisions of the Collegium Cardinales.

On the following topics, you are commanded to meditate during the journey to Monte Cassino where the Church now gathers to sit in council:

Primus - What steps must be taken now that victory has been won against the infidel Africans to bring the Word of God to the nascent Christian communities of Africa?

Secundus - What is the state of the Church in the many nations of Christendom?

Tertius - How may the Church of the West and the Church of the East be reunited in holy and sisterly communion as the true bride of Christ?

Quartus - What role should the Eastern Roman Empire, now de facto impotent, play in the new Kingdom of God? What should be done with the vacant Imperial mantle?

Quintus - What reforms necessitated by the new age we live in must be undertaken to renew the Church's mission of faith?

Sextus - What reforms must be made in the instruction of priests, in the discipline of the religious, in the education of the faithful?

Septimius - What should be done regarding the martial disputes of temporal powers? What can be done to prevent such disputes from arising?

After these seven questions have been addressed, the conclave will open to new business and general motions from the assembly. The Holy Father will conclude the conclave by confirming those worthy resolutions into the Canon of the Church.

Ad Maiorem Gloriam Dei, may this solemn bull be made the law on Earth as it is in Heaven, written in the Abbey of Monte Cassino a

Sanctissimus, Pope Nicholas V, Vicar of Christ, Papa Universalis, Summus Pontifex, Pontifex Maximus, Servus Servorum Dei, Patriarch of the West, Primate of Italy, Metropolitan of the Roman Province, and Bishop of Rome"

 

[Blade!]

Behind Enemy Lines:
The "Liberator" Counter-Rebels, Pt.1
The Anjumans Reformed​

Hellene trembled as she acended the stone steps of the mayor's manor. The jug of water in her arms was heavy, but it did not slosh greatly as she moved upwards at a steady pace. The young woman, barely sixteen, had never been so scared, or never had such reason to be. Most of her life had been one of ease... relative ease.

A commoner's life is never easy, doubly so for an orphan, which Hellene was. For most of Hellene's life, however, she had been told of the terrible times under Venetian rule. In fact, she had been born under Venetian rule, and orphaned as a result of it, as they crushed Moslem presence ruthlessly. Luckily for Hellene, however, the Vlach Moslems had outside help, and Hellene was raised in an orphanage run by a Reverend Sister.

When the Vlach Moslems came out of hiding and rose up against the Venetians when Moldavia declared war, they were ultimately rewarded with freedom. The life Hellene knew as a child and young woman had been washed away as the Dracul Litvoi supporting rebels penetrated the heart of The Dobrudja, and purged the town of Iasi's administrators. The Ruma neighborhood was empty by sundown, and the Stefan II "The Liberator" Mosque no longer issued the call to prayer.

Life now, as it had been for the last eleven months, was as it had been before Voivode rule. Her people in hiding, the Reverend Sister Jasmine-i-Tlemscen traveling by night from community to community; the secret societies, Anjumans, reforming. Hellene, had become the one who watched the orphans and tended the secret Ruma neighborhood basement mosque; helping Jasmine, much as her caretaker Xena had once done. Xena, however, had gone onto be an unheard of thing, from the perspective of the community; somthing Hellene was incapable of being by her very personality.

Hellene, once known by her childhood playmates as "The Voivode Toucher," for having touched three of Iasi's rulers, was not, however, incapable of bravery. In fact, as she climbed the stone steps of the mayor's manor, she had never felt braver. She knew what happened to girls who worked in the new mayor's manor... or more properly the new warlord's manor. Hellene was in many ways, a very pious young woman, and the idea of the possible impunging of her virtue terrified her, but not as much as the fact that not a few girls who had worked in the manor had come to gruesome ends in the last several months.

Her fair looks granted her a job in the manor, despite Sister Jasmine's unhappiness. She had worked for two weeks, and yet had never met the Mayor-General. This was planned; the rebel forces had been pressing the front up into the mountains towards Iasi, and the wretched man had been away... but now he was back, and every step Hellene took brought her closer to his presence. He must have seen her earlier, because he had requested her presence. This was expected, as Hellene was the only untried mare in the stable. She only hoped nothing went wrong with the plan.

As she arrived at the Mayor-General's door, she knocked tentetively, recalling how she had entered the same room only hours before. She realized, with renewed confidence, that she would have heard if anything had gone amiss already.

"Come in."

"Yes, my Lord."

Hellene responded with as much warmth as she could muster as she opened the door. The man's back was to her, as he sat at his desk, where his sword also rested. The desk was located in the middle of the room, and faced the bed and closet at the far end.

"Did you bring up the water? Set it down and come here... and remove your blouse..."

Hellene swallowed on her own fear, but began to lower he blouse as she walked towards him.

"Like this my Lord?"

The man turned in his desk, and then stood as he saw her in order to move towards her. Hellene froze and took a step back, both due to real fear, and to buy a few seconds as the man advanced on her.

As he came onwards she spoke the pre-arranged words.

"How may I serve you my Lord?"

------------------------------​

Less than ten minutes later, Hellene and two men who had been waiting in the closet, made their way out of a seldomly used scullery door and into the night. One of the men was bleeding profusely from his stomach, hunched over as he walked, and the other limped. Hellene was unhurt but disturbed by what she had seen. She had imagined it would be easy for two young men with swords to subdue the older unarmed Mayor-General. She hadn't imagine the ferocity of the struggle, and all the blood... blood that was everywhere. The fight seemed to have lasted an eternity from Hellene's view near the doorway where she had fled, but in reality had only lasted a few moments. The man's death was far more gruesome and painful than Hellene could have imagined, and she felt sick.

Still, Dracul Litvoi's Mayor-General was dead.

Hellene the Voivode Toucher mumbled under her breath in the dark.

"Long live the Voivode."

 

[von Streusser]

Castle Iasi​

Stefan looked up when Gilles appeared, and nodded with a hint of satisfaction. "We must gather whoever we can to repulse the attack. Petru will hold off the assault as long as he can, but once the gates breach..." he caught himself "now that the gates have breached, he will fall back with his men to the catacombs below the castle. His final defensive position will probably be somewhere in the vicinity of my grandfather's tomb. He can hold there for quite some time, so lets get the others first. Maia will be...yes, upstairs! She'll be with Elisabet and the children!" The Voivode waved his followers forward and took off at a dead run towards one of the staircases.

Nicolae turned to Xena as they ran after him. "Oh, you thought we were going for porridge? And the fact that we brought our sabers didn't tip you off at all?" he said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

As they moved through the corridors they passed a number of small melees, guards alone or in small groups engaged larger assault teams of rebels. Rounding a corner, they stopped short as Stefan ran straight into a rebel. The collision knocked both of them back, and the enemy soldier seemed just as surprised as the Voivode and his party. Though Nicolae and Gilles quickly moved to interpose themselves between their Lord and his would-be assailant, it soon proved unnecessary. A shadow on the wall, that had formerly been minding its own business and standing still, suddenly darted out behind the rebel, placed a blade at his throat and wrenched his head to the side, spraying blood all over Nicolae, Stefan, and Gilles.

The shadow, a man in a jet black cloak, stepped forward and pulled his hood back. "I apologize for the theatrics, My Lord...are you all right?" Stefan nodded and looked the man over. He was unfamiliar, but judging by his actions and ability, he was no doubt a Lup Fantoma. The thought made Stefan feel a little better...the Fantomas were no doubt scouring the shadows of the castle, killing any rebels who wandered off by themselves. The cloaked man nodded once at Gilles, bowed slightly to the Voivode, raised his hood and moved quickly down another hallway for some other part of the castle, his boots making no sound at all as he ran.

* * * * *​

Dracul Litovoi paced anxiously outside the city walls, the small force of his elite warriors, 20 in all, watching him and waiting. A wolf circled his feet a few times, then lay down, and he had to step over it to continue pacing.

The war had gone well for him so far, now only Iasi remained. But it had proved a tough nut to crack. Very few of his scouts ever returned from their missions, and none from within the castle, so his men were going in blind. "Damn those 'Shadow Wolves'!" he hissed for the hundredth time. The Lup Fantomas had unceremoniously dumped the bodies of dozens of his scouts and raiders at the gates of the city, mere yards from his camp. Their brazenness irritated him almost as much as his own mens' inability to stop them.

Now there was nothing he could do but sit and wait. He had wanted to go over the walls himself, to kill the last of the False Litovois with his own bare hands, but Alin had convinced him not to. A lucky arrow, a fluke strike, and everything would be for naught. It chafed on his honor, but his men all had explicit orders not to kill the Voivode or his relations...so that Dracul could enjoy that himself. He looked up at the castle again, then back out down the road to the south. He turned back to the castle, reached down to scratch the back of the wolf's head, and then froze. He rose, looked up down the road again, and squinted into the sunlight. Was that a dustcloud coming his way?

* * * * *​

Maia raised her walking stick and her blade at the same time and formed an "X" in the air above her, catching the rebel sword as he brought it down for a swift stroke. His eyes widened, and suddenly he was reeling as his stroke was repelled and he caught the walking stick across the face. The last thought that would ever go through his mind was 'My God, she's fast...'.

She raised a boot to the dead man's chest and pushed him off her sword, leaving him to land in a pile with the others who had tried to gain access to this room. Behind her were her two sons, Gabriel and Sandu, her sister in law Elisabet, and Elisabet and Bogdan's daughter Nathalie. Gabriel was six, Sandu one, and Nathalie in between the two. Needless to say, Maia was on her own to defend her family.

She put her blade down as the combat lulled, and looked behind her again, into the eyes of her sons. Gabriel was holding Sandu, trying to keep him from crying. It was the quietest the older boy had ever been, Maia decided, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile. She was getting too old for this, and her leg continually shot jets of pain throughout her body. Damn that German who'd done this to her, damn him. She had wanted to just settle down, to grow old with her husband and watch over their children together, but now the lands of the Vlach were spilling over with blood once again, and she had to answer the call to arms, because who else would?

She heard footfalls, a lot of them, coming towards her again and she wondered how much longer she would last. There were easily two dozen dead men piled up outside her door, and the next wave might be enough to break her. She saw the fear in Gabi's eyes, and heard Sandu start to cry again instinctively, and her mind hardened, her eyes closing to angry slits. She would fight until judgment day if she had to, as long as she could protect her children.

"Holy..." she heard a familiar voice say, and let her sword arm drop. It was Nicolae, staring wide-eyed at the pile of corpses his teacher had put up near her door. Maia stepped out into the hallway and saw her students, her nephew, and her husband standing there...and she allowed herself a smile.

"Gilles...if I'd known you were going to come by, I'd have cleaned up a little better." She sheathed her sword and walked towards her husband grinning, her constant limp hobbling her a little. Her boots splashed through puddles of blood that had pooled near the doorway, and the drop in tension was accompanied by a return to silence from Sandu. Gabriel stepped out into the hallway a moment later, holding his infant brother. He looked at his mother and father a moment, then spoke in a quiet voice.

"Mama, Papa, there's someone coming. Outside, down the road." The group dashed back into the tower room and looked out one of the windows facing to the south. Indeed, a dust cloud was approaching along the southern road, and as it grew closer they could make out banners and insignia. A trumpet blast rolled forward through the valley and washed over them, then repeated itself. It was a war horn.

Stefan leaned forward, almost out the window, trying to decipher the banners of the marching host. It was an army, that was certain, and it was huge. Maybe 2,000 men in all, infantry and cavalry both. "Maia, those banners...what are they? Who leads this army?"

It was Nicolae who answered, his shoulders slumping, his face directed at the floor. Everyone turned and looked at him as he spoke. "House Kodara. Those banners bear the crest of House Kodara." He did not elaborate, but sheathed his sword, dejectedly. The name struck a familiar chord with both Maia and Xena. Xena had to think a moment to place where she had heard the name before, but then promptly remembered.

Valeriu.

 

[von Streusser]

On the Road to Monte Cassino​

It was nothing short of a small miracle that the messenger carrying the Papal Bull had made it through rebel-held territory alive. The fact that the Archbishop of Bucuresti and a handful of retainers managed to make the trip out the same way unhurt was another miracle twice the size of the first.

Archbishop Cosmin looked down again at the tattered remnants of the letter he now held. It was missing several of the directives the Pope had issued, and he had no idea what had been on that part of the paper before he had seen it. While the Papal messenger had survived intact, the bull itself had had a harrowing journey, and part of it was now in rebel hands.

Cosmin ran his fingers through his beard again and put the bull away. He very much doubted anyone at this little meeting would care at all what he, an Eastern Archbishop, had to say, but he figured that he might just as well go. The situation at home was bleak, and some time spent far away from the wartorn Vlach lands might do him good. He might even be able to get some sort of windfall for the church, and most importantly himself.

A local peasant was leading him towards the abbey now, and he would arrive shortly. What awaited him there, he had no idea, but he hoped it was better than the specter of war and death...

 

[Blade!]

Castle Iasi​

Xena grinned as her training companion jested back at her. As they ran up the stairs in the vanguard of the party.

"When don't we have these sabers with us these days? Aside, I thought you were going to slice my bread for me with it."

Smiling, Xena and Nicolae reached a cross-hall checked the route and continued upwards, but only after Xena whistled long and low. As they continued upwards and reached Maia's chambers, Brother and Sister wolf caught up and nipped at Xena's heel to let her know they were there.

Xena stopped to greet her canine companions as Nicolae entered the body strewn chamber, and waited for the rest of the young Voivode's retuine to pass. As she entered, she nodded silently and respectfully to her mistress.

Everyone's attention however was on the window and what Nicolae announced were the banners of House Kodora. Xena frowned as Nicolae looked down. 'It has been three years though... and we fight on the smae side.. I think... perhaps it will not be as I think.' The thought of Nicolae's mother, a noble woman, scrubbing Kodora's floors angered Xena; not because she was a noble woman however. In fact, Xena harbored a low level dislike of all nobles excepting the House Litvoi who she served joyfully. The fact that Nicolae, was a fallen noble in fact, endeared him to her a little more than it repulsed her; she did have mixed feelings on the issue.

Her anger about Nicolae's family, however, came from two sources: One, Nicolae was in fact if not by admitance her closest friend; and two, Xena had her own feud with the scion of House Kodora, and in fact felt she was ultimately at fault for Nicolae's current predicament.

She stepped to Nicolae's side, and brushed her hand over his back as she passed around him towards Lady Maia.

"Mistress, shall we prepare to move the children to a more secure location? Perhaps Nicolae and I should take them somewhere secure as House Kodora arrives."

 

[von Streusser]

Castle Iasi, Catacombs​

​

Deep within the bowels of the castle, steel rang off steel and struck stone, sending a cavalcade of sparks raining down upon the combatants in the dimly lit tunnels. Petru and his soldiers were gradually falling back towards the point of their final stand, the tomb of Alexandru cel Bun...Petru's father. In their wake they left a long trail of rebel bodies, and the cries of the wounded and dying echoed throughout the various passages and chambers, gradually rolling up to the catacomb entrance where they spilled forth into the light of day, the sound bringing to mind images of the tortured moans of the damned boiling over from the gates of Hell.

Petru reacted more than thought, struck on reflex and impulse, guessing by the movement of shadows and the impact of footfalls nearby where his opponents were. He could hear their breathing as he sliced the air with his saber again and again, and could nearly sense the impending strikes of his enemies, giving him just enough time to parry their blows. His men fought with him and fell beside him, their numbers gradually dwindling. In the distance, from a surface world too far away to have any meaning, he heard the sound of horns.

* * * * *​

"What the...!" barked Dracul Litovoi, spinning in place to face the approaching army. The horns sounded again, the war horns of the Vlach. The sound echoed off the hills and rolled through him like thunder, followed by a second blast, and a third. He could see the advancing army now, but had yet to decide if they were for him or against him. To his back was a castle not yet subdued, to his face an army with unknown loyalties. He cursed again, loudly this time, and ordered three of his men forward to parley with the mysterious force. His soldiers rode forward at a furious pace towards the banners of House Kodara...

...and all three were shot from the saddle as the Vlach soldiers broke into a charge.

"Into the castle! Now!" barked Dracul, mounting his horse and riding with breakneck speed towards the breached gates of Iasi.

* * * * *​

"You there! Drop your weapons!" barked a soldier wielding a menacing-looking halberd. He was joined by others, and they fanned out around Ostrov and his companions, ready to strike at the slightest hint of aggression. The soldiers of House Kodara and the Russians eyed each other a moment, when one of the Vlach Housemen tilted his head to the side and regarded Ostrov more closely.

"Wait! Stay your weapons brothers, I know this man!" The Houseman stepped forward, raising his halberd to his shoulder, and smiled. His fellow soldiers raised their polearms as well and relaxed. The soldier who approached Ostrov was young, but familiar...he was a guardsman in Castle Iasi, and had seen the Russian Prince many times as he waited for audiences with the Voivodes. The guardsman smiled and extended a hand. "Good to see you safe and sound, my Lord. We go to storm this castle and defend the Voivode, and would welcome any help you or your party care to offer. I only urge you to be quick in deciding, as the main body of the force is already engaging the enemy, and we don't want to miss the fighting." His grin was eager, and it was clear that he had not fought often before...he was still too idealistic to see the Hell in it.

* * * * *​

"Secure location, Xena? I'm afraid there is none. This is the closest thing we'll find to one, and only because it's reasonably defensible. If House Kodara has come to our aid, then we will soon be delivered from this carnage. If they have come to place the final nail in our coffin, then where we go now hardly matters." Maia's voice was level and calm, and she did not look at her young pupil as she stared out the window, towards the advancing army. The Vlach warhorns sounded again, and the army charged through the streets of Iasi towards the gates of the castle, a yell rising from their throats that would have shaken the bones of Satan himself.

"Both of you, prepare yourselves for a real battle...if House Kodara has sided with us, then the rebels will be pushed before them and straight into us. If House Kodara is against us, then we die fighting, like warriors. Like Vlach."

* * * * *​

Lord Kodara, clad entirely in his black plate mail, led the charge towards the gates of the castle. He had nearly drained his treasury to pay for this army, but the rewards would be great indeed. With almost no nobles left standing with House Litovoi, and certainly none of consequence, he would soon own vast sums of land...perhaps enough to challenge the Voivode himself? He allowed a grin to crease his face invisibly under his armor, and rode on towards the enemy.

 

[von Streusser]

Castle Iasi​

The army of House Kodara poured through the streets, chasing the token siege force of Dracul Litovoi's army towards the castle gates. Those rebels that had not taken part in the assault directly scattered immediately; some surrendered before the vastly superior numbers of their foe, some fled to the hills, and a few brave (or perhaps panicked) souls resisted and were crushed against the city walls. There were, however, a substantial number of rebels inside the castle itself, still trying to carry the fight...that was where the real resistance would be met.

* * * * *​

Stefan, Gilles, Maia, Xena, and Nicolae stood ready just inside the doorway, steel drawn to repulse the coming assault. Nicolae was sweating and very pale. If he survived this fight, he would still have to face Lord Kodara. Maia noticed, but said nothing...she knew of his plight, and was gradually forming a plan to solve it.

The rebel waves suddenly washed over them as panicked soldiers charged forward, not knowing where to go but knowing they had to flee the loyalists pouring in through the gates. Steel flew through the air drawing bright arcs and throwing red sprays around the room as the Litovois and Maia's pupils fought desperately for their own survival. Gilles fell first, a deep reddening gash on his arm just below the shoulder. Nicolae screamed at the top of his lungs as he swung wildly at any threat presenting itself. Stefan was knocked back off his feet into a wall, where he slumped and lay still. Maia alone remained calm and collected, measuring each threat and striking it with her sword or her walking stick.

As quickly as it began, it ended. There was a brief moment of silence and stillness for everyone to catch their breath, when suddenly out of the corner of her eye, Xena saw a flash of steel, and Nicolae howled in pain and dropped to his knees. His hand ran to his calf, and he looked up at Maia with an expression of shock and betrayal. She knelt beside him, and hissed in his ear. "There is no time, so do as you're told. When Lord Kodara challenges you, you will show you cannot walk, say you were wounded in the battle with the rebels, and name me as your champion. That is all you need to do, I will handle the rest." She straightened back up as several figures suddenly entered the doorway, swords drawn, but did not attack.

"My Lords!" one of the figures shouted, sheathing his sword. The others did likewise and entered the room. "Lord Kodara has come to your aid, even now our army is sweeping this castle to destroy the rebel scum. You're safe now." Behind the soldiers came a figure clad entirely in black plate armor, a knight of the Order of Moldu'c, walking with a slow and deliberate step. The soldiers that had preceeded him straightened as he entered and barked "My Lord!"

Lord Kodara lifted his helmet and looked around the room. A woman, a girl, two young boys, and an old soldier...and the last one was wounded. Pathetic. But he had a score to settle with one of those boys, and now that the current crisis had passed...

"Nicolae Pitesti. You have shamed my house and yours, and I challenge you to a duel...to the death. The time and place shall be here and now. Rise and defend what little honor you have left."

The soldiers were astonished, but did their best to hide it and move out of the way. The castle they stood in was not yet subdued, and here their Lord was challenging one of its defenders to a duel to the death? A mere boy no less...they had always known their master to be ruthless, but this was beyond the pale.

"I cannot..." Nicolae rasped, his voice quiet with pain. "I am wounded...but I accept your challenge. Maia Litovoi shall be my champion." He straightened his neck, and from the floor gave Kodara such a look of defiance that it nearly knocked the Knight back a step.

Kodara had indeed been staggered, but it was not by the boy's look. It was the sudden realization that he was going to fight the aunt of the Voivode...an accomplished warrior even now stained by the blood of her victims. She drew steel and stepped forward, brandishing her weapon. Kodara took a step back and stammered "Lady Litovoi, there...there is no need for this, my quarrel is with the boy, not House-"

"Coward!" she barked, cutting him off. "You would issue a challenge to the death to a boy, but not stand and face me? You have issued the challenge, will you back out now?"

"I merely wish to ensure that nothing happens to the line of the Voivode! For then where would we-"

She interrupted him with the first strike, one which he parried instinctively.

* * * * *​

There was no great battle, no climactic clash of giants for Dracul Litovoi. When the army of House Kodara linked up with what was left of Petru's force and the castle guard, they trooped out of the catacombs and picked through the bodies. There, in a pool of blood and half underneath one of his own men, lay the lifeless corpse of the Dragon, run through by some nameless soldier in a panicked and chaotic melee.

"For every traitor, a traitor's death" growled Petru, kicking his cousin and moving on.

 

[Blade!]

Castle Iasi​

Xena braced herself against the wall just inside the door frame, together with an ever more paling Nicolae, and the remaining guards. Within the room, the nobles had also drawn their blades to stand their ground. Her sword drawn, Xena tensed as the sounds of rebels running through the halls grew closer. She glanced across the doorframe, and the guards' shoulders to see her comrade Nicolae and nodded at him. She went back to peaking through a loose slat in the door frame where it lay against the masoned stone. She wondered to herself what the punishment would be for killing a Moldavian Lord... 'certainly death. Unless... during the heat of battle....'

Then the forces of Dracul were upon them, rushing through the door and knocking back the three men in the doorway and forcing themselves into the room.

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!"

Furiously, Xena began to hack into the soldiers as they came through the doorway and into the bedchamber. There were many coming through, too many to stop and they rolled over the guards, but Xena tried to hack away at all who passed within. As the flow within slowed, the rebel soldiers began to attack with coordination, and now that they could see Xena in the corner by the door, she became a target, an assumedly easy target, her stature possibly being the least in the room.

Xena realized these were probably the last moments of her life, and fought with a fury, hoping to fight her way towards Nicolae, Maia, or any ally. Alone in a corner was not her favored position, and having an ally nearby would improve the length of her life at least by moments. If she could fighting her way toward Nicolae or Maia, she would at least let her die defending those she was in debt to, one way or another.

Xena found her break as her wolves, previously stuck at the back of the room had fought their way biting and dashing across the room to bear into the calves of the men who had cornered her. As they went down, she flicked her blade into the neck of one and plunged into the chest of the other as she grinned at Brother and Sister wolf, before quickly lunging towards the backs of the men assualting Nicolae at thother side of the door frame.

"Nicolae! Really! We have important things to do, you shouldn't tease these men like this!"

Xena thrust her sword into one man's kidneys as her canines leapt against him, and Nicolae dispatched the other soldier in the resulting chaos. The bedchamber was filled cries and swordplay. Together the two squires advanced back toards Lady Maia and the fallen Voivode. Already Gilles was bleeding on the floor, and Xena and Nicolae struck the final soldier Lady Maia was bringing down. It seems they had survived for the moment.

Xena, took a quick look around, and ran to the doorway to look for a new assualt, trusting the others to look at the Voivode. Having glanced out at the empty hallway, she turned back to report when saw Nicolae go down, his calf spurting, and Lady Maia standing over him. Xena's eyes widened, and her hand instinctively raised her sword arm into a defensive posture. As she realized it was for a purpose, she exhaled and appreciated the wisdom of the Lady.

Xena relaxed for just a moment, as footsteps from behind her caused her to spin around and back up defensively towards Maia and Nicolae, ushering her wolves behind her, as battle stained soldiers advancing in the vanguard of a dark plated man bearing the Order of Moldu’c advanced up the corridor and into the room. Xena muttered to herself, and her eyes narrowed, as the threat to Nicolae arrived.

“Lord Kodara…”

Xena glowered as she watched the exchange between the Lord and the young man, and then her heart beat as Lady Maia berated the haughty man. Xena was proud to be Lady Maia’s squire, and in her heart formed a dark seed of hatred to this man they owed their lives and the sanctity of the castle to.

 

[N Katsyev]

Iasi, Chaos in Familiar Streets​

​

​

"What am I doing!?", Ostrov screamed at himself in his mind, maybe because he was too exhausted to do so verbally. Indeed he was having trouble hearing himself his pulse was beating so loudly that it made the whole of his head ache. He and Nikolai Eevanivitch were reaching a large group of soldiers with vaguely familiar banners, Ivan wished he had payed more attention to court in the previous years, he was a bloody ambassador after all.

Suddenly a man barked at them and soon the couple were being surrounded, Nikolai quickly glanced at the aging ambassador for advice, but odds looked terribly dim, already his weapon was lowering. And as Nikolai's weapon dropped, Ostrov realized what a damn fool thing he had done just rushing down toward the city like that, of course these soldiers - friendly or not would be suspicious of two oddly clad men, one of them armed charging down toward not just the city but their own soldiers. It was in this moment of greatest despair, of realization that Ostrov and his companion would probably spend their time in chains... or worse, while the Voivode's last hopes were extinguished that another young man stepped forward...

"Wait! Stay your weapons brothers, I know this man!" The Houseman stepped forward, raising his halberd to his shoulder, and smiled. His fellow soldiers raised their polearms as well and relaxed. The soldier who approached Ostrov was young, but familiar...he was a guardsman in Castle Iasi, and had seen the Russian Prince many times as he waited for audiences with the Voivodes. The guardsman smiled and extended a hand. "Good to see you safe and sound, my Lord. We go to storm this castle and defend the Voivode, and would welcome any help you or your party care to offer. I only urge you to be quick in deciding, as the main body of the force is already engaging the enemy, and we don't want to miss the fighting." His grin was eager, and it was clear that he had not fought often before...he was still too idealistic to see the Hell in it.

"Yes friend, lets not miss the fighting!", Ostrov enthusiastically wheezed before reaching down and plucking a hefty axe off a dead rebel soldier at his feet.

Nikolai laughed deeply, "Yes!", he called out, "Now is the time to spill Papist blood!" The young man jerked forward only to stop again and give Ostrov a queer look, who through sweat and grime on his obviously exhausted face only shook his head with meaningful glance. The young man grinned and rushed off, obviously far too eagre to meet his own fate. Nikolai roughly took Ostrov by the shoulder, "Come comrade, the fight is ahead, feel the light of the divine warm your muscles and help you to spread slaughter amongst those false believers who would threaten your friends!" However much more Ostrov was thinking his companion was a lunatic, in that minute he did kiss the wooden crucifix that always hung about his neck and with a nod of his head, surged forward with the large knight into the chaos of these familiar streets...

Spinning around helplessly, Nikolai Eevanivitch tried to make some sense of his surroundings. He was wet with sweat and the humidity of the damned air, yet still it was cloudly and dark and here he was amidst countless men who by this point hardly knew more of what was going on than he did. There were armies but no leaders, there was still fighting, but it hardly seemed that there was any enemy. Many of the banners had long since been thrown down as the soldiers without a clear goal, without a clear enemy and Nikolai Eevanivitch hoarsely called out for his comrade. "Friend, he has fallen..."

Nikolai spun around to the source of the voice, the same houseman they had met earlier who now looked as if all the bloood had drained out of his body. "Where, where is he? Is he dead?!"

"No... not even terribly wounded... come."

Eevanivitch sheathed his weapon as they passed through the chaos that were Iasi's streets. It was dark, hot and miserable and Eevanvitch's cheeks were already wet with tears when they came upon Ostrov, propped up against a home, a couple of axe-mangled corpses about him, wheezing terribly and looking around him as if blindly. "My lord what has happened..." Nikolai sank down into the mud of the street and touched Ostrov's prespiring face. The latter, looked at him blankly, obviously trying to figure out why this man was crying...

 

[von Streusser]

Tower Chamber, Castle Iasi​

​

Maia had been a great duelist...once. But that time was long since passed, she found herself thinking over and over as she and Lord Kodara attacked and counter-attacked. Her mind was still sharp, but her reflexes refused to obey her as quickly as they once had. And if she did not have her speed, she had very little to go on. Domn Kodara was larger and more powerful, and he would only need to land one solid un-parried blow...

As the former Lup Rocu spun, trailing her blade in a solid steel arc, she felt two things; Domn Kodara parrying her flourish, and her old broken leg giving under the sudden increase in strain as she went off-balance. She heard a snap, and suddenly she was on her knees, facing away from the black knight, her head bent in defeat. She heard Kodara chuckle as he raised his blade to finish her, heady with victory. But it was then that a surprising thing happened.

Gilles had staggered to his feet during the duel, not content to watch his wife be defeated by a younger and stronger foe. And as the Knight of Moldu'c raised his weapon to deliver the coup de grace, Gilles stumbled into him and knocked him off balance, planting his shoulder into Maia's opponent. "Ooops" he managed to mumble before sliding off Domn Kodara and collapsing to the floor again. Kodara, incensed by this intrusion into the duel, turned to face Gilles.

And Maia, temporarily forgotten, took that moment of opportunity to lash out behind her.

Driving her saber backwards and giving it a twist, she felt it punch through metal, flesh, and bone. There was a clang as Kodara's weapon dropped to the floor, and for a moment, the only sound was a wet gurgling noise issuing from Kodara's mouth as blood burbled over his lips. The wayward Lord dropped to his knees, his armor making a resounding clatter, and then he crumpled to the floor, Maia's blade still stuck in him. He landed awkwardly, partially draped over the still-bleeding Gilles, and their blood mixed on the stained flagstones of the chamber floor.

Maia continued to kneel where she was, head down and eyes closed. In the corner, Stefan groaned as his mother crawled to him and gathered him in her arms, cradling her young yet powerful son as she sobbed and he groaned in a semi-conscious state. Nicolae, having had a chance to bandage his wounds, had dragged himself to a side wall where he propped himself in a sitting position. There was a long silence, punctured only by Elisabet's muffled sobs and the labored breathing of the multiple wounded in the room. Finally, Nicolae looked around and asked, his voice quiet and bloodless, "is it over?" Almost as if on cue, one of the children began to cry.

It was at that moment that Petru, followed by Sir Zaharia, stepped through the doorway, their armor blood-spattered and damaged in several places, but the scene inside the tower chamber made the former Voivode stop short. "What in God's name happened here?!" Petru asked, rooted in place. Zaha, meanwhile, rushed to Nicolae's side, looking across the room at Xena.

"Are you all right, young one?" he asked her, as he looked over Nico's wounds. Catuna, meanwhile, relieved that the fray was over, rushed to Petru's side and embraced him, burying her head against his shoulder and clinging tightly to her husband. The change this brought in the man of war was immediate and noticeable, as his demeanor softened and his voice quieted.

"All right, I'll ask again, if anyone's still alive...what happened in here?"

 

[unmerged(10239)]

A man bearing the flag of Tunisia emblazoned on his clothing entered the Vovivodal court.

"Honourable Voivode of Wallachia, I am Yakin Jessan, a representative of the Sultan of Tunisia. I am here to promote good relations with the Christian kingdoms of Europe, and the Sultan was particularly interested in renewing the previous good relations he enjoyed with your eminent self. I ask that you let me reside here as a permanent ambassador for the Sultan and implore you to send a similar representative to Tunis. Also, might I remind you of a trade agreement that once existed between our nations, that we might renew it for the benefit of both our nations."

He hands a piece of paper to the Voivode containing details of the agreement.

(http://www.europa-universalis.com/forum/showpost.php?p=3542434&postcount=235)

 

[von Streusser]

The Tunisian Ambassador notes the masses of soldiers milling through the capitol city of Iasi, and the not insignificant amount of carnage in the streets. Soldiers are clearing away bodies and carting out the maimed and dead of the recent battle everywhere he looks. The remains of the bloodbath get more intense the closer he gets to the castle gate, where blood is still pooling in the paving stones. The gates have been burst through, and crews are busily repairing the damage. Inside the castle itself, bodies have been shoved out of the way and await removal. The battle was apparently most feverish just inside the gates, where the defenders waited to meet the rebels in pitched battle. Blood coats every surface here, and the smell is overwhelming.

The court hall itself looks like it was ransacked, and servants (many of them wounded) are putting the place back in order. Bodies are in here too, and the Voivode, his head bandaged, is over-seeing the repair efforts. He is young, perhaps 16 years old, but he exudes an aura of command. Near him stand two men; one Vlach and one too pale to be from the area. Both are apparently important judging by their armor and manner of dress. The pale one has a bandage around his upper arm, and the darker one, a hulking beast of a man, wears a number of bandages and dressings in various areas. All three turn to look at the Tunisian as he's led past the bodies and wreckage. It is Stefan, the Voivode, who speaks after the ambassador has presented himself.

"Welcome to Moldavia-Wallachia, Yakin Jessan. I hope you'll excuse the mess, we've had a bit of an episode here. Speaking of which..." he turns to the giant Vlach warrior "when will we have this scum staked, uncle?" Stefan gestured to the multiple bodies in the room as he asked.

Petru answered, his voice a booming tone even when he controlled it, as he did here. "We're cutting the stakes and gathering the prisoners and dead now. We expect to be able to start staking them this evening."

"Good. Now, as I was saying. Welcome to Iasi. We will of course prepare a chamber for you. I would offer you a chance to bathe as well, but I'm afraid we're still fixing up that part of the castle. Perhaps in the next few days that courtesy will be made available to us all once again.

Now then, as for this treaty...as far as Moldavia-Wallachia is concerned, this trade agreement is still in effect. If Tunisia wants to continue our agreement, we will continue to honor it as well. I will look into sending a man to your realm as soon as we've gotten things sorted out here.

Finally, I may have to leave this place shortly for a few months. You see, this assault was part of a larger rebellion, which still has some pockets of supporters here and there which must be wiped out. My chancellor will remain here after I leave, however, and he will be able to see to all your needs and discuss matters of state in my absence.

Now then, is there anything else I can do for you? Moldavia-Wallachia views Tunisia as a friend and worthy trade partner...once our ports and markets are open again after the conclusion of this rebellion, I will be happy to see your wares there."

 

[unmerged(10239)]

"Sire, many thanks for your understanding. Needless to say as Muslims we are...less than welcome in some Christian countried. It is good to see that you are willing to accept us in your realm. Is there anything that the Sultan can do to help with the clearing up after the rebellion?"

 

[von Streusser]

Stefan considered the Tunisian envoy a moment. "No, there's nothing more the Sultan can do. With brigands and rebels roaming the countryside, loans or treasure would not reach us. And Islamic soldiers in our lands would certainly worry our neighbors unnecessarily.

I thank the Sultan for his warm offer however. Should he require a hand in some future endeavor, I shall remember his kindness and attempt to return it."

* * * * *​

The Voivode woke early the next morning, and summoned Nicolae and Xena to his quarters. A guard opened the door for the two young squires and showed them in, however he did not announce their presence. Stefan had established very early on that when he wanted introductions, he would ask for them. More often than not, he just wanted quiet.

They were shown through several spacious chambers with the very best the realm had to offer, or had accumulated from foreign places over the years. The furnishings were richly appointed, with silk making many repeat appearances. There was color thrown everywhere in an attempt to make the interior of the castle seem less drab and cold, and one of the rooms was in a state of complete disarray; the floor had been torn up, and bricks lay in several neat stacks waiting to be laid down. There were drawings on a table in the corner, and as the squires passed by they could see the Voivode's intentions for the room...an indoor garden, with heated floors and a pond.

They passed through to the Warlord's bedchamber, and saw him standing by a window looking out into the fields beyond the walls. A servant was helping him into a robe, and his uncle Petru was sitting in a chair nearby. The former Voivode rose as the squires entered the room, nodding to both of them. Stefan didn't move his eyes from the window, but saw Petru rise out of the corner of his eye and knew that Xena and Nicolae had arrived.

Nico was still limping, but he was able to walk on his own again now, which was more than Maia could say. She had re-broken her leg in the duel, and was now confined to bed and constant care lest she lose the ability to walk forever. A physician was attending her...a former resident of Izmayil, and follower of Jasmine-I-Tlemscen. His faith was a thing not discussed...for his ability to heal and knowledge of the human body was beyond reproach. He said he had learned his craft in Baghdad, Cairo, and Constantinople from the finest physicians in the world...and his work argued that he was telling the truth. But it still gave some of the staff jitters.

In the distance was the sound of wood-cutting, and mallets pounding against lumber. Stefan finally turned his head away from the window and faced Petru. "After breakfast, I should like to take a walk in my new forest with my newest Knights. Will it be ready?"

Petru nodded. "I'll see to it myself, m'lord. Everything should be ready by then."

"Thank you Petru." Stefan said, bowing his head slightly. "And then, preparations for the coming campaign?"

"They have already begun" came the General's reply. "I have dispatched scouts who will gauge the heaviest pockets of rebel resistance. We will break them one by one until the cowards melt away. Izmayil looks like a good first destination...I've received a report that their Governor-General was assassinated a couple weeks ago, and the place hasn't really recovered yet. It looks like someone still remembers their oath to you, m'lord."

"My father liberated that town once...it will feel good to liberate it again. Thank you Petru, that is all" the Voivode said. His uncle bowed, and left the room. "Now then...Conte Pitesti, Contessa Radu. Please, have a seat. You shall be joining me for breakfast." The Voivode motioned to a nearby table with three chairs, one obviously his. It was a small table, obviously used primarily for one, but could comfortably accomodate all three of them. Nicolae was slow to notice it, as his jaw had dropped. The Voivode had just called him Conte.

Stefan seated himself, and servants bustled in with lamb, soup, wine, and a variety of other dishes, the finest the chef had to offer. After a servant had tasted each dish, the Voivode was served and then Nico and Xena. "I'm glad to see your wounds healing, Nicolae." The Voivode began, his tone flat and matter of fact, not very conversational. "I have such a shortage of good soldiers these days, and a great need for them. I also, after so many of my former servitors elected to betray me, have a surplus of available estates, and so few loyal subjects to award them to. We've lost several Knights of the Order in this little unpleasantness, and a handful of Knights of the Societas Draconistrum as well. In the coming conflict I shall be keeping an eye out for those that distinguish themselves in battle, so that I may replace their numbers." The Voivode cut another slice of lamb and let the weight of this statement hover over the table a moment.

"Both of you served well in the Battle of Iasi, and you stood by me when I needed you. These are qualities I seek to reward. Nicolae, are you familiar with Bacau? It sits near where the Bistrita river branches off from the Sirez, and the lands surrounding it stretch for miles through that area. Very good grazing, and excellent crop land. One of Moldavia's oldest and richest holdings. It needs a new Conte, and if you feel equal to the task, I feel it would be a good match for you." Nicolae was speechless, and could only nod, dumbstruck. The Voivode noted the effect with satisfaction, then turned to Xena.

"Xena. When my uncle appointed the previous Lord to serve as Conte d'Izmayil, he apparently severely misjudged his loyalties. As a consequence, there is now a great deal of land in the Danube delta that requires a new Conte...or Contessa, as the case may be. When we march into Izmayil to liberate it again, I want you with me at the head of the army, to claim it as your own and rule in my name. Don't worry about the difficulties of management, I will appoint a Chamberlain who will take care of everything for you, including setting aside your rich share of the tax revenues. What say you?" Expecting her answer yes, he went back to eating his breakfast.