Probably not, but I would have thought Charlemagne would have had enough brains to leave a smart one in charge. Maybe not...?
The Song of Roland
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Probably not, but I would have thought Charlemagne would have had enough brains to leave a smart one in charge. Maybe not...?
Probably not, but I would have thought Charlemagne would have had enough brains to leave a smart one in charge. Maybe not...?
he did. Charles is smart, he was just raised differently to Charlemagne. He inherited an Empire, and Charlemagne made an Empire. Now his sons...thats a tale for the next post.
ah, this is not the first time i have been compared to Monty Burns
I am a fan of Mr Burns. Has he said smote at all?
Yes on several occasions I believe.
No 'narration' bits in this post as I started writing this and it just kinda...worked well.
- - -
Charles, Emperor of Francia, King of the Romans, Imperitor Augustus, walked through his garden, his bad leg dragging behind him, a constant reminder of his ill-fated Spanish campaign twelve years ago [1]. The sun was setting in the west, and the first evening stars where piecing the sky. Servants ran back and forth, lighting the lanterns in the garden, dodging the king as they did so. The garden was a new extension to the palace complex; several curving paths through hedges and flowerbeds. There was even a large fountain in the centre, and on the west side, several rows of saplings had been planted, and where now growing to quite a hight. It was quiet here, a place where Charles could come and relax, away from the pressures of state, which seemed to be heavier then usual of late, if his spies from his son’s courts were to be believed. He dismissed the servants from the garden, preferring to have the sanctuary all to himself.
Having reached the fountain Charles dipped his hand in, playing with the water. Behind him, something rustled amongst the saplings. Pretending not to hear the sound, the Emperor stood up and began to walk away from the fountain, his hand slipping to his sword at his side.
Footsteps on the rough gravel behind him, increasing to running speed.
Charles spun, his sword drawn, and met the blade of a would be assassin. The assassin jumped back, evidently surprised that the Emperor had seen him. He was dressed from head to toe in black, even wearing a black felt mask to cover his face. Two blackened daggers hung on his belt, a short sword clasped in his hands.
Charles swung his sword again, and the assassin caught it, deflecting the blow. The two men duelled back and forth before Charles knocked the assassin’s sword out of his hand. The assassin fell to the ground, clutching his cut hand, without uttering a word.
Towering over the fallen man, Charles held his sword to the man’s neck.
“Who sent you? Whose pay are you in?” he barked, but the man remained silent, his eyes staring up at the Emperor.
Frustrated, Charles pulled the man’s black mask off, to reveal a man with a nasty gash across his face. Now Charles could see why the man would not answer his questions: his tongue had been cut out. He laughed a laugh that was more cough then anything else, and Charles hit him across the face with the back of his sword, knocking the would be assassin out cold.
A sudden whistling, like that of a mosquito, filled the air, and Charles felt something hit his neck. He reached up and pulled out a dart, some liquid coated its tip. As he stared at the small object he was overcome with dizziness, and fell to the ground. He grasped along the ground, trying to stand up, but he lost his balance. His tried to shout for help, but his tongue was swollen in his mouth, his throat tightening. As his vision darkened, he saw a figure all in black walk towards him, before his eyelids became too heavy, and he closed his eyes for the last time.
- - -
The second assassin wandered over to the two bodies. The first assassin had been merely knocked out, although the cut on his hand was a nasty one, as was the scratch on his right shoulder. Since the first assassin was well enough, the second assassin wandered over to the body of Charles. Knelling over him, the assassin checked the body. It was devoid of life. The poison had done its work then. She prised the dart out of the dead hand of the Emperor, so as not to leave anything behind to point to them.
She turned towards her partner’s body, but paused, and ripped a piece of her black cloth off and put it in the Emperors cold dead hand. She picked up the body of the her partner assassin, shouldering the tongueless assassins body, and walked quickly through the courtyard and through the endless corridors used only by servants, and out into the alleys of Karslburg. For all its pomp and imperial grandeur, Karlsburg was still a city, and the alleys and backstreets provided the perfect escape routes for the two assassins. After walking the muddy streets for many an hour, they reached their base, an abandoned unused storehouse at the edge of the city.
Having tended to the wounds of her companion, she set up a meagre dinner, cooking a pot of soup. As the soup came to cook, her companion stirred from his sleep. He grunted and she looked up from the pot.
“Ah, Almanzor, you wake.” She poured a bowl of soup, and handed it to the man, who grasped it and poured the thin soup down his throat. He gestured for another bowl, and then put his hands on his head to symbolise a crown.
“I finished your work Almanzor.” She said, handing over the refilled bowl. “My dart did it. By the time he pulled the dart out of his neck he was already dead.” She took a bowl for herself, and sipped the thin soup. Through the open window, the sound of a church bell chimed, and it was joined by its brothers across the city.
“I think they have found the body.” She commented as she put down her bowl, gathered her ordinary clothes, and changed out of her black assassin clothes in sight of Almanzor, who watched her changing with disdain. He was a man’s man, and so would never know the pleasures of her flesh. Labinia had been insulted when she first tried to make a move on the tongueless Spaniard and she had been turned down, but it meant that the two could keep their relationship purely professional.
Tying her boots up and adjusting her dress, she turned to Almanzor and as she tucked a blade into her boot said.
“I’m going out, to try and find out what people know. Also, we need some more bread.”
Almanzor nodded wordlessly and lay down onto his thin cloth, watching the fire, holding his wounded right hand.
- - -
Slipping out into the crowded street, Labinia walked with the flow of the crowd, which lead her to one of the market squares. There, standing on a wood block was a herald from the court of the Emperor. The crowd had gathered around him, to hear him talk.
“Just recently, the body of our Emperor, Charles son of Charlemagne, was found dead in his palace, slain by an assassins sword. The sole Emperor Hugh, son of Charles, has already offered up a reward for any who find the assassin, dead or alive.”
When the herald uttered the price, the murmurs of the crowd grew louder.
Having heard enough, Labinia turned away from the herald and wandered over to one of the few shops that was still open in the late evening, and bought a handful of apples.
When she arrived back at the storehouse, the door was open, and voices could be heard from within. Dropping the apples, she pulled out her concealed dagger, and wandered around to the side of the storehouse and crept through the side entry, clutching her dagger. The voices were louder now, and when she peered over the low wall she recognised the two men, and stood up, and coughed to get their attention.
They turned to look at her. They were both dressed in rich clothes, although a simple cloak covered them. The one dressed in green spoke to her.
“Good evening Labinia.”
“So you have come to pay us then, Helguld?” she asked, walking around the short divide.
“Our master wishes to speak to you of that matter, mistress assassin.” Helguld said, “He’s not going to pay without proof of death.”
Now the other man spoke. “Gather your things, we are taking you back to the Palace.” He gestured with his sword at the pile of seemingly meagre clothes. Labinia gathered them up, carefully keeping the daggers and poison darts hidden from the two men. As Almanzor stood up, he limped his left leg, and almost fell, if Helguld had not been standing there to catch him.
Frowning, Labinia glanced at Almanzor, who gave her a quick wink.
“What is wrong with your fellow?” asked Helguld.
“He was wounded in killing the target.” Replied Labinia. “His hand, shoulder and leg were wounded in the process. Therefore, we want more money.”
“Evidently tact is not a word in that exists in this Greeks vocabulary. [2]” Retorted Helguld, and he gestured towards the door.
“Come on, we have to go now, my master is a busy man.”
With Almanzor holding onto Labinia’s shoulder, the four walked out of the storehouse and through the backstreets to where a horse and cart awaited them. Driven by the other Frank, whose name Labinia learned was Flanbert, the cart drove through the city, past the front entrance to the Palace and to a back door, near what had once been the stables but where now converted into servant’s quarters. The palace, as with the rest of the capitol, along with an ever expanding circle of towns outside the city as messengers spread word, was in mourning.
The Kings brother had been removed from the garden, and placed in the chapel, and preparations were being made for the king’s funeral. The atmosphere within the palace was solemn. The corridors were empty of servants, few torches or lanterns had been lit, the halls and corridors that the four passed through were cold and dark.
At last, they arrived at a room at the end of one of the wings of the castle. It was warm, a blazing fire lit the room, and wine and food lay on a table. Helguld gestured for Almanzor and Labinia to go inside, and they were followed by Flanbert.
“I must go and fetch my master,” said Helguld. “Flanbert will keep an eye on you until I return.”
He shut the door and the two assassins picked at the food on the low table, while Flanbert lazed about on a chair by the door, watching them as they ate and drank. After what seemed an eternity the door opened and Helguld walked in, his master behind him. Flanbert, along with Almanzor and Labinia stood up at the sight of Helguld’s master.
The now sole Emperor Hugh.
“Almanzor, Labinia, we meet again.” He said, walking around the chairs and taking a goblet of wine. He downed it in one gulp, his hands shaking erratically. Wiping his mouth he continued;
“When last we met, I was a mere co-regent. Now, I rule on the Empire solely, a position I refuse to give up [3]. I commissioned you to quicken the process.”
“And we have delivered.” Replied Labinia.
“And how can I be sure of that, mistress assassin?” Hugh asked, leaning towards her. “My father was found keeled over in the palace garden, with signs that he had taken part in a struggle, but it was not those minor blows that killed him.”
“Almanzor tried to attack him, but your father fended him off, so I poisoned him with a dart.” Said Labinia.
“And where is the proof of this poisoning?” enquired Hugh.
“Check his neck. He should have a wound there. Also, in the struggle with Almanzor he tore some of his black cloth.” Lied Labinia, and she reached into the pile of clothes and pulled out her black assassin clothes.
“The cloth should match this.” She said, showing it to Hugh. He studied the clothes, and pulled out of his pocket the scrap of cloth that Labinia had planted on the body of Charles.
“Hmm, your story and the evidence match.” Said Hugh as he compared the cloth. “Now I believe the agreed price was -”
“We will need to ask for half again.” Interrupted Labinia. “Almanzor was injured during the job, and we did stipulate that an extra fee would have to be payed should serious injury be attained while killing your father.”
Hugh flinched at the last words. He stared at Labinia, who stared back, and it was Huh who turned away first.
Sighing, he gestured to Helguld.
“Go and get the wenches payment, along with the extra half because of the injuries.” He said. He turned back to Labinia. “Now, you have to obey my stipulations. In a fortnight, should you remain within any of the realms loyal to me, then you will be hunted down and killed. There will be no connection between to two of us.”
Labinia nodded. “Fine by me. The Greeks provide more work then you red-haired barbarians.”
Several tense minutes passed until Helguld returned with the payment. Gold and silver coins of mixed denominations ranging from Arabic coins to the new Frankish coins [4], even some Mercian coins from across the ocean and the odd Greek coin, with long dead Emperors stamped on them.
“Just as we agreed.” Said Hugh, wiping his brow. “Mixed coins of indeterminate origin, like any trader from within the Empire would carry on himself. There are two horses waiting for you at the stables to take you away through the night.”
He stood, and Helguld opened the door for the Emperor. As he was about to leave he stopped and said,
“Things may be getting a bit…” he paused, trying to think of the right word.
“Blood-soaked?” offered Labinia, and Hugh shook his head.
“Not quite. But I may be in need of your services again. How can I contact you again? [5]”
“There is a man in Rome that we do some dealings through.” Said Labinia. “Gregory the Greek is the name that you can find him under.”
Hugh nodded, and still wringing his hands walked out of the room. Gathering their stuff Labinia and Almanzor were then escorted by Flanbert out to the stables, where they took a horse each and rode through the night, heading South. For ten days they galloped down the roads of Austrasia and Burgundy, and by the time they had reached Providence, just under the two week ultimatum issued by Hugh, they had to take the back roads and cut through farmers fields to avoid the mustering armies. In the inns of Italy they listened silently to the speeches of the Hughists and Thomasites, and as they crossed into lands that owed allegiance to the Pope, the two brothers were marching against each other. The Great Struggle had begun.
- - -
[1] That is, ill-fated because he didn’t conquer the entire peninsular. Since the campaign started in 821, that puts this post at about 833.
[2] Well, technically neither assassin is a Greek. Labinia is from Sicily, and Almanzor is from Spain.
[3] Hugh was made co-Emperor by his father Charles in 825. So technically he is Emperor, but another coronation ceremony by the Pope wouldn’t go astray.
[4] Another of Charles’s economic policies; the introduction of a standard currency throughout his Empire. Sadly, it isn’t working that well.
[5] The two assassins were first contracted by Hugh because they were in Francia at the time that Hugh was looking for a couple of assassins.. They prefer to move about rather then stay put.
- - -
Charles, Emperor of Francia, King of the Romans, Imperitor Augustus, walked through his garden, his bad leg dragging behind him, a constant reminder of his ill-fated Spanish campaign twelve years ago [1]. The sun was setting in the west, and the first evening stars where piecing the sky. Servants ran back and forth, lighting the lanterns in the garden, dodging the king as they did so. The garden was a new extension to the palace complex; several curving paths through hedges and flowerbeds. There was even a large fountain in the centre, and on the west side, several rows of saplings had been planted, and where now growing to quite a hight. It was quiet here, a place where Charles could come and relax, away from the pressures of state, which seemed to be heavier then usual of late, if his spies from his son’s courts were to be believed. He dismissed the servants from the garden, preferring to have the sanctuary all to himself.
Having reached the fountain Charles dipped his hand in, playing with the water. Behind him, something rustled amongst the saplings. Pretending not to hear the sound, the Emperor stood up and began to walk away from the fountain, his hand slipping to his sword at his side.
Footsteps on the rough gravel behind him, increasing to running speed.
Charles spun, his sword drawn, and met the blade of a would be assassin. The assassin jumped back, evidently surprised that the Emperor had seen him. He was dressed from head to toe in black, even wearing a black felt mask to cover his face. Two blackened daggers hung on his belt, a short sword clasped in his hands.
Charles swung his sword again, and the assassin caught it, deflecting the blow. The two men duelled back and forth before Charles knocked the assassin’s sword out of his hand. The assassin fell to the ground, clutching his cut hand, without uttering a word.
Towering over the fallen man, Charles held his sword to the man’s neck.
“Who sent you? Whose pay are you in?” he barked, but the man remained silent, his eyes staring up at the Emperor.
Frustrated, Charles pulled the man’s black mask off, to reveal a man with a nasty gash across his face. Now Charles could see why the man would not answer his questions: his tongue had been cut out. He laughed a laugh that was more cough then anything else, and Charles hit him across the face with the back of his sword, knocking the would be assassin out cold.
A sudden whistling, like that of a mosquito, filled the air, and Charles felt something hit his neck. He reached up and pulled out a dart, some liquid coated its tip. As he stared at the small object he was overcome with dizziness, and fell to the ground. He grasped along the ground, trying to stand up, but he lost his balance. His tried to shout for help, but his tongue was swollen in his mouth, his throat tightening. As his vision darkened, he saw a figure all in black walk towards him, before his eyelids became too heavy, and he closed his eyes for the last time.
- - -
The second assassin wandered over to the two bodies. The first assassin had been merely knocked out, although the cut on his hand was a nasty one, as was the scratch on his right shoulder. Since the first assassin was well enough, the second assassin wandered over to the body of Charles. Knelling over him, the assassin checked the body. It was devoid of life. The poison had done its work then. She prised the dart out of the dead hand of the Emperor, so as not to leave anything behind to point to them.
She turned towards her partner’s body, but paused, and ripped a piece of her black cloth off and put it in the Emperors cold dead hand. She picked up the body of the her partner assassin, shouldering the tongueless assassins body, and walked quickly through the courtyard and through the endless corridors used only by servants, and out into the alleys of Karslburg. For all its pomp and imperial grandeur, Karlsburg was still a city, and the alleys and backstreets provided the perfect escape routes for the two assassins. After walking the muddy streets for many an hour, they reached their base, an abandoned unused storehouse at the edge of the city.
Having tended to the wounds of her companion, she set up a meagre dinner, cooking a pot of soup. As the soup came to cook, her companion stirred from his sleep. He grunted and she looked up from the pot.
“Ah, Almanzor, you wake.” She poured a bowl of soup, and handed it to the man, who grasped it and poured the thin soup down his throat. He gestured for another bowl, and then put his hands on his head to symbolise a crown.
“I finished your work Almanzor.” She said, handing over the refilled bowl. “My dart did it. By the time he pulled the dart out of his neck he was already dead.” She took a bowl for herself, and sipped the thin soup. Through the open window, the sound of a church bell chimed, and it was joined by its brothers across the city.
“I think they have found the body.” She commented as she put down her bowl, gathered her ordinary clothes, and changed out of her black assassin clothes in sight of Almanzor, who watched her changing with disdain. He was a man’s man, and so would never know the pleasures of her flesh. Labinia had been insulted when she first tried to make a move on the tongueless Spaniard and she had been turned down, but it meant that the two could keep their relationship purely professional.
Tying her boots up and adjusting her dress, she turned to Almanzor and as she tucked a blade into her boot said.
“I’m going out, to try and find out what people know. Also, we need some more bread.”
Almanzor nodded wordlessly and lay down onto his thin cloth, watching the fire, holding his wounded right hand.
- - -
Slipping out into the crowded street, Labinia walked with the flow of the crowd, which lead her to one of the market squares. There, standing on a wood block was a herald from the court of the Emperor. The crowd had gathered around him, to hear him talk.
“Just recently, the body of our Emperor, Charles son of Charlemagne, was found dead in his palace, slain by an assassins sword. The sole Emperor Hugh, son of Charles, has already offered up a reward for any who find the assassin, dead or alive.”
When the herald uttered the price, the murmurs of the crowd grew louder.
Having heard enough, Labinia turned away from the herald and wandered over to one of the few shops that was still open in the late evening, and bought a handful of apples.
When she arrived back at the storehouse, the door was open, and voices could be heard from within. Dropping the apples, she pulled out her concealed dagger, and wandered around to the side of the storehouse and crept through the side entry, clutching her dagger. The voices were louder now, and when she peered over the low wall she recognised the two men, and stood up, and coughed to get their attention.
They turned to look at her. They were both dressed in rich clothes, although a simple cloak covered them. The one dressed in green spoke to her.
“Good evening Labinia.”
“So you have come to pay us then, Helguld?” she asked, walking around the short divide.
“Our master wishes to speak to you of that matter, mistress assassin.” Helguld said, “He’s not going to pay without proof of death.”
Now the other man spoke. “Gather your things, we are taking you back to the Palace.” He gestured with his sword at the pile of seemingly meagre clothes. Labinia gathered them up, carefully keeping the daggers and poison darts hidden from the two men. As Almanzor stood up, he limped his left leg, and almost fell, if Helguld had not been standing there to catch him.
Frowning, Labinia glanced at Almanzor, who gave her a quick wink.
“What is wrong with your fellow?” asked Helguld.
“He was wounded in killing the target.” Replied Labinia. “His hand, shoulder and leg were wounded in the process. Therefore, we want more money.”
“Evidently tact is not a word in that exists in this Greeks vocabulary. [2]” Retorted Helguld, and he gestured towards the door.
“Come on, we have to go now, my master is a busy man.”
With Almanzor holding onto Labinia’s shoulder, the four walked out of the storehouse and through the backstreets to where a horse and cart awaited them. Driven by the other Frank, whose name Labinia learned was Flanbert, the cart drove through the city, past the front entrance to the Palace and to a back door, near what had once been the stables but where now converted into servant’s quarters. The palace, as with the rest of the capitol, along with an ever expanding circle of towns outside the city as messengers spread word, was in mourning.
The Kings brother had been removed from the garden, and placed in the chapel, and preparations were being made for the king’s funeral. The atmosphere within the palace was solemn. The corridors were empty of servants, few torches or lanterns had been lit, the halls and corridors that the four passed through were cold and dark.
At last, they arrived at a room at the end of one of the wings of the castle. It was warm, a blazing fire lit the room, and wine and food lay on a table. Helguld gestured for Almanzor and Labinia to go inside, and they were followed by Flanbert.
“I must go and fetch my master,” said Helguld. “Flanbert will keep an eye on you until I return.”
He shut the door and the two assassins picked at the food on the low table, while Flanbert lazed about on a chair by the door, watching them as they ate and drank. After what seemed an eternity the door opened and Helguld walked in, his master behind him. Flanbert, along with Almanzor and Labinia stood up at the sight of Helguld’s master.
The now sole Emperor Hugh.
“Almanzor, Labinia, we meet again.” He said, walking around the chairs and taking a goblet of wine. He downed it in one gulp, his hands shaking erratically. Wiping his mouth he continued;
“When last we met, I was a mere co-regent. Now, I rule on the Empire solely, a position I refuse to give up [3]. I commissioned you to quicken the process.”
“And we have delivered.” Replied Labinia.
“And how can I be sure of that, mistress assassin?” Hugh asked, leaning towards her. “My father was found keeled over in the palace garden, with signs that he had taken part in a struggle, but it was not those minor blows that killed him.”
“Almanzor tried to attack him, but your father fended him off, so I poisoned him with a dart.” Said Labinia.
“And where is the proof of this poisoning?” enquired Hugh.
“Check his neck. He should have a wound there. Also, in the struggle with Almanzor he tore some of his black cloth.” Lied Labinia, and she reached into the pile of clothes and pulled out her black assassin clothes.
“The cloth should match this.” She said, showing it to Hugh. He studied the clothes, and pulled out of his pocket the scrap of cloth that Labinia had planted on the body of Charles.
“Hmm, your story and the evidence match.” Said Hugh as he compared the cloth. “Now I believe the agreed price was -”
“We will need to ask for half again.” Interrupted Labinia. “Almanzor was injured during the job, and we did stipulate that an extra fee would have to be payed should serious injury be attained while killing your father.”
Hugh flinched at the last words. He stared at Labinia, who stared back, and it was Huh who turned away first.
Sighing, he gestured to Helguld.
“Go and get the wenches payment, along with the extra half because of the injuries.” He said. He turned back to Labinia. “Now, you have to obey my stipulations. In a fortnight, should you remain within any of the realms loyal to me, then you will be hunted down and killed. There will be no connection between to two of us.”
Labinia nodded. “Fine by me. The Greeks provide more work then you red-haired barbarians.”
Several tense minutes passed until Helguld returned with the payment. Gold and silver coins of mixed denominations ranging from Arabic coins to the new Frankish coins [4], even some Mercian coins from across the ocean and the odd Greek coin, with long dead Emperors stamped on them.
“Just as we agreed.” Said Hugh, wiping his brow. “Mixed coins of indeterminate origin, like any trader from within the Empire would carry on himself. There are two horses waiting for you at the stables to take you away through the night.”
He stood, and Helguld opened the door for the Emperor. As he was about to leave he stopped and said,
“Things may be getting a bit…” he paused, trying to think of the right word.
“Blood-soaked?” offered Labinia, and Hugh shook his head.
“Not quite. But I may be in need of your services again. How can I contact you again? [5]”
“There is a man in Rome that we do some dealings through.” Said Labinia. “Gregory the Greek is the name that you can find him under.”
Hugh nodded, and still wringing his hands walked out of the room. Gathering their stuff Labinia and Almanzor were then escorted by Flanbert out to the stables, where they took a horse each and rode through the night, heading South. For ten days they galloped down the roads of Austrasia and Burgundy, and by the time they had reached Providence, just under the two week ultimatum issued by Hugh, they had to take the back roads and cut through farmers fields to avoid the mustering armies. In the inns of Italy they listened silently to the speeches of the Hughists and Thomasites, and as they crossed into lands that owed allegiance to the Pope, the two brothers were marching against each other. The Great Struggle had begun.
- - -
[1] That is, ill-fated because he didn’t conquer the entire peninsular. Since the campaign started in 821, that puts this post at about 833.
[2] Well, technically neither assassin is a Greek. Labinia is from Sicily, and Almanzor is from Spain.
[3] Hugh was made co-Emperor by his father Charles in 825. So technically he is Emperor, but another coronation ceremony by the Pope wouldn’t go astray.
[4] Another of Charles’s economic policies; the introduction of a standard currency throughout his Empire. Sadly, it isn’t working that well.
[5] The two assassins were first contracted by Hugh because they were in Francia at the time that Hugh was looking for a couple of assassins.. They prefer to move about rather then stay put.
Ah assassination, intrigue, and backstabbing...wonderful. Good work Scarecrow.
We-ll, not so much backstabbing per se. its not like Hugh ever said to Charles "I will never kill you Dad"
and he did pay the assassins money.I am quite fond of Almanzor and Labinia, but sadly we probibly wont see them ever again.
Unless...
EDIT: Oh, I just realised that the term 'assassin' wouldnt have been used back then. Oh well
Since I have been struck down with Writers block (along with a severe case of overworked-ness) I present to you this Spoiler map. All I can say is that it is after the Great Struggle, and shows only the Kingdom of Spain and Aquitaine. all else has been left blank.
Make of it what you will...
Make of it what you will...
Cool map.
Since it is a spoiler map I'll refrain from asking any questions and just leave it with a "can't wait to see the rest of it all finished" comment.
Since it is a spoiler map I'll refrain from asking any questions and just leave it with a "can't wait to see the rest of it all finished" comment.
Cool map.
Since it is a spoiler map I'll refrain from asking any questions and just leave it with a "can't wait to see the rest of it all finished" comment.
Thanks, but please, ask questions!
I wanna hear peoples thoughtsThanks, but please, ask questions!
Oh I was just wondering what that uncolored spot (but outlined in) was to the west of the Kingdom of Spain.
I see...and does this place have a name perhaps?
THen your presumption is correct
- - -
In 833, Charles, Emperor of the Franks and other titles, died suddenly and unexpectedly. No one expects to be killed by poison dart administered by a Sicilian female assassin just after you have fought off a Spanish assassin whose tongue had been cut out.
As he was laid to rest beside the grave of his father, events in the world of the living took a sudden turn for the worse. For years rumours had circulated that Charles would leave the entire Empire to his eldest son Hugh, meaning that his two other sons would be subservient to their elder brother. When the final will of Charles was made public, this fact was confirmed. Almost immediately after the reading of the will Thomas and Theodoric, along with their assorted allies: Lothar of Aquitaine and Bernard of Italy being the most important, left Karlsburg to form armies to oppose the will of Hugh.
Austrasia, Aquitaine, Bavaria and Italy formed the core of the opposition to Hugh. Their aims were simple: the overthrow of Hugh as Emperor, and the Empire was to be divided between the three sons, with Aquitaine and Italy gaining some level of regional autonomy.
Opposing them was Hugh, and his lands, the Kingdom of Neustria. His aim? The establishment of primogeniture and to keep the Empire whole. Theoretically the lands of Burgundy, Providence, Alemaria, and the Spanish and Saxon duchies were loyal to him,[1] but should the Thomasites (as the opposing faction was now being called) were able to sway them with promises of independence, then Hugh would only be left with Neustria. He had to act quickly. As Thomas fought his way out of the Saxon duchies and back to Aachen, Hugh gathered the Dukes and Margraves of Saxony, and promised them that should they ally themselves with him, he will give them the right to elect their own king, who would take the title of King of the Teutons. [2, 3]
They agreed, and a suitable candidate was produced. Rallying his forces in the North and the west, Hugh moved against Thomas in Austrasia, plundering and looting his way down the Rhine River before he was repulsed at the first battle of Worms, in 834. The first victory for the Thomasites against the Imperial forces was a massive coup for Thomas, and his personal opinions of the civil war began to change. With such a groundswell of support, he could even seize the Imperial throne for himself. As his allies moved against Hugh, fighting him in the fields and dales, the towns and cities, Thomas plotted.
The Great Struggle had progressed for five years before any significant breakthrough came for either side. The Spanish lands had remained neutral, as had Burgundy, and Providence until now, each waiting to see which side it would be worth joining. The catalyst that provoked them into action happened on the cold channel coast of Austrasia.
The County of Flanders.
For years the Counts of Flanders had become rich off trade that Emperor Charles had promoted. Traders from England and Scandinavia arrived in the markets of Flanders, and the counts had lined their pockets quite nicely. King Thomas’s actions however, disturbed the Flanders. His actions of splitting up the Empire could mean the end for the prosperity that they had flourished under. So, in the first months of 840, the Count of Flanders took a risk, and changed his allegiance from Austrasia to Neustria, although he had been promised by the Emperor that one the Great Struggle was over, then Flanders would have a considerable level of autonomy when compared to the other barons, Dukes and Counts within Neustria.
It was the straw that eventually broke the camels back. In 840, as he camped at Claremont in Aquitaine, Hugh received a group of barons from Spain.
- - -
Claremont was a town of ash and fire. Its importance as a centre of the Church had been well established: the abbey even held a holy relic: a piece of the True Cross. It also had some level of strategic importance, and both of these qualities made the victory of the Imperial army here so important. Now, however, another important event was about to take place.
The Spaniards greeted Hugh in the abbey, which Hugh had requisitioned rather then stay in a tent. The Count of Barcelona, Count Leo, was the chosen spokesman for the group.
“Hail to Hugh, son of Charles, King of the Romans, Imperitor Augustus. We have travelled far to seek council with you oh Emperor. For to long the King of Aquitaine has acted as lord over lands, and word has reached us that your brother would grant Lothar de jure control over Spain. We all oppose this to a man, and we must take the only logical course of action.”
Leo of Barcelona bowed to Hugh, and the other Spaniards followed suit.
“We do however.” Continued Leo, “Have a few conditions.”
Hugh tapped his fingers on his chair, his elation turned to annoyance.
“Go on.”
Taking out a piece of parchment, Leo unfurled it and began to read.
“We want the same rights as the Teutons, as in that we want the creation of a Spanish Kingdom under a candidate that we have chosen. We want the same amount of autonomy and rights that those who live in the Kingdom of the Teutons, such as a written code of law. We also want the county of Septimania to be added to this new Kingdom. In return for that, we shall swear fealty to you as Emperor, and our soldiers will be join your ranks. ”
Silence filled the room as Hugh considered the Spaniards remarks. Standing next to him was Eduin, a monk who had long been at his side, and whose opinion Hugh held in high regard. The monk leaned over and whispered into his masters ear.
“My lord, the counts of Spain are much further away from Karlsburg then any other lands, and have always held a level of autonomy. This decree would make what is already de facto de jure.”
“I will not hand over rule to Spain so hastily.” Hissed Hugh back.
“But haste is exactly what we need Oh Emperor. Should we delay, then they may offer it to your brother. We need the Spanish troops more then they know.”
That was true. Although Claremont and most of the eastern part of Aquitaine had been seized, Hugh’s spies reported that Lothar was mustering an army and calling upon Thomas to help him. With his forces spread thin across the ground here his victory could be undone with one loss on the battlefield.
“Very well.” He said, glaring at the Spanish Counts. “Swear fealty to me, and you shall have your king.” He stood up and left the chamber, his entourage trailing behind him.
As he stormed out of the building and out into the courtyard, Eduin ran after him.
“If I may be so bold Oh Lord.” He began, “Spain could be the perfect example to help win over those subject who haven’t made up their minds on what side they will fight. Make offers to install kings, under your authority of course.”
“So, in order to win this civil war and retain my title of Emperor, I have to surrender a greater and greater amount of my authority?”
“Not at all. This promotion of local power within the Empire will strengthen it as it strengthened your grandfather’s rule. And it would give you the opportunity to fix Austrasia.”
“How exactly?”
“Combine the two kingdoms into one, bar the lands that you have promised to the Teutons. You can then retain the title of King of the Franks alongside your Imperial title. Should that fail…” the monk trailed off.
“Yes?” inquired the Emperor angrily. “What is it?”
“Theodric is the weakest link in Thomas’s motley coalition. Offer him the position of co-Emperorship.”
“What?” shouted Hugh. “It just gets better and better! Co-Emperor? Co-bloody-Emperor? Why don’t I just fucking abdicate then?”
“If you would just let me finished my lord, once things have….settled down, your brother could be disposed off. You seem to know how to do that.” Added Ediun under his breath.
- - -
The news of the creation of the Kingdom of Spain was greeted with a mixed reaction across the war-torn Empire. A month after the announcement of the Spanish Kingdom, Hugh offered the Duke of Burgundy an upgrade, along with the County of Providence as a deal sealer, although it forced Providence into Thomas’s camp. As 840 turned into 841, Hugh, now triumphant in the west and solidly entrenched in Austrasia, he turned his attention east, where Thomas had built up a secure hold. As Hugh marched into Bavaria, he won an astounding victory over the combined Bavarian and Italian forces on the northern fields. The Italian forces were ineffective, as Thomas’s agents spread seeds of dissent through the Kingdom, and a Lombard pretender to the throne emerged in Turin.
As he marched south, his forward scouts brought him good news. His youngest brother, Theodric had been captured fleeing to Salzburg.
- - -
Theodric sat in a tent, his hands and feet bound and tied to the floor. Outside it was snowing: the first snow of winter was falling, bringing with it freezing winds straight of the Alps.
The tent door was flung open and four men walked in. Two were guards, the other was dressed in black. Black gloves, tunic, pants and boots, along with a billowing black cape. It was his elder brother Hugh. At his shoulder was a weasel-faced monk.
“Hello brother.” Said Theodric, looking up at the Emperor. “How many years has it been since I last saw you? To few I would imagine.”
Scowling, Hugh grabbed Theodric and threw him to the ground.
“You have let yourself be captured Theodric. Thomas is not doing much of a job to protect you. Your Kingdom is in ruins, you are beaten. Do not let yourself be destroyed as Bernard did.”
Theordic spat in his face, and Hugh stamped down on his brother right hand, causing him to cry out in pain.
“There is no escape. Don’t make me kill you brother.” Snarled Hugh. The weasel-faced monk ran up to the Emperor and whispered in his ear. Hugh grunted, and leaned down to fact Theodric.
“Theordric, you do not yet realise your importance. Join me, and with our combined strength we can end this destructive conflict and restore peace to the Empire.”
Theodric dragged himself up and stared at his brother.
“I’ll never join you. You killed our father.”
Hugh fell into a rage at those words, and reigned many blows upon his brother, until his guards had to pull him off.
“So be it.” Hugh murmured. “You are more use to me as a hostage anyway.”
- - -
In one month, Thomas lost his two most powerful allies, Theodric of Bavaria and Bernard of Italy. Theordic had been captured by Hugh, and Bernard had been over thrown by one of Hugh’s Lombardy pets.
His allies dissolving like the morning fog, Thomas was isolated. Many of his Austrasian dukes had turned against him, and he was running out of places to hide. On Good Friday, Thomas met Hugh, dressed in his now recognisable black robes, under the white flag of peace outside the walls of Paris. Thomas surrendered to his brother, surrendering the crown of Austrasia, and went into exile in Northumbira. It was 842, and after nine years of civil war, the Empire was at peace. There was still the matter of the creation of new Kingdoms, as Hugh had promised. In 843, at his campus maii, Hugh outlined the sub-division of his Empire. Eight Kingdoms were formed: Alemannia, Aquitaine, Bavaria, Burgundy, Francia, Italy, Teutonia, and Spain. [4] Those Kings were granted a greater level of autonomy: They could mint their own money, have their own laws, the only provision being their subservience to the Emperor, and provide him with soldiers in his campaigns. A new Kings Council was established at Karslburg, and would eventually fulfil the role that the campus maii, which was formerly abolished in 865. This Kings Council would elect the King of the Romans upon the death of an Emperor. [5]
As the Franks where now no longer the dominant rulers of the Empire, the nomenclature of the Empire changed, as the title Emperor of the Franks was no longer relevant. The title of ‘Roman Empire’ was not chosen, simply out of a desire not to provoke the Greek Emperors in the east. It would take until the end of the 9th Century until the issue would resolve itself, when the title of Holy Roman Empire was used. [6]
Although he had secured his Empire, and successfully waged a nine-year civil war, Hugh had silenced his domestic enemies with bribery and murder. However, forces outside his Empire would keep him on his toes for the rest of his years.
- - -
[1] Although pitched battles between battles between armies claiming loyalty to either Hugh or Thomas had taken place in these lands, but not lead by any leaders of the lands, rather local aristocrats.
[2] Most early Medieval monarchs were elected to their post by the nobles of the lands.
[3] The title King of the Teutons rather then King of the Saxons is used because although the core area is Saxon, Thurgundians and other minor Germanic marches are included in the new Kingdom.
[4] There are areas of Hugh’s Empire that are not included in these eight kingdoms. The Margrave of Denmark, the March of Pribina, Ostmark and the March of Fiuli are all outside any of the eight Kingdoms, although the Margrave of Denmark is under the influence of the Teutonic Kingdom.
[5] In order to that the title Imperitor Augustus, the Emperor had to first get the title of King of the Romans.
[6] This is several centuries before, simply because TTL’s Holy Roman Empire is a less homogenous state.
- - -
Thoughts?
In 833, Charles, Emperor of the Franks and other titles, died suddenly and unexpectedly. No one expects to be killed by poison dart administered by a Sicilian female assassin just after you have fought off a Spanish assassin whose tongue had been cut out.
As he was laid to rest beside the grave of his father, events in the world of the living took a sudden turn for the worse. For years rumours had circulated that Charles would leave the entire Empire to his eldest son Hugh, meaning that his two other sons would be subservient to their elder brother. When the final will of Charles was made public, this fact was confirmed. Almost immediately after the reading of the will Thomas and Theodoric, along with their assorted allies: Lothar of Aquitaine and Bernard of Italy being the most important, left Karlsburg to form armies to oppose the will of Hugh.
Austrasia, Aquitaine, Bavaria and Italy formed the core of the opposition to Hugh. Their aims were simple: the overthrow of Hugh as Emperor, and the Empire was to be divided between the three sons, with Aquitaine and Italy gaining some level of regional autonomy.
Opposing them was Hugh, and his lands, the Kingdom of Neustria. His aim? The establishment of primogeniture and to keep the Empire whole. Theoretically the lands of Burgundy, Providence, Alemaria, and the Spanish and Saxon duchies were loyal to him,[1] but should the Thomasites (as the opposing faction was now being called) were able to sway them with promises of independence, then Hugh would only be left with Neustria. He had to act quickly. As Thomas fought his way out of the Saxon duchies and back to Aachen, Hugh gathered the Dukes and Margraves of Saxony, and promised them that should they ally themselves with him, he will give them the right to elect their own king, who would take the title of King of the Teutons. [2, 3]
They agreed, and a suitable candidate was produced. Rallying his forces in the North and the west, Hugh moved against Thomas in Austrasia, plundering and looting his way down the Rhine River before he was repulsed at the first battle of Worms, in 834. The first victory for the Thomasites against the Imperial forces was a massive coup for Thomas, and his personal opinions of the civil war began to change. With such a groundswell of support, he could even seize the Imperial throne for himself. As his allies moved against Hugh, fighting him in the fields and dales, the towns and cities, Thomas plotted.
The Great Struggle had progressed for five years before any significant breakthrough came for either side. The Spanish lands had remained neutral, as had Burgundy, and Providence until now, each waiting to see which side it would be worth joining. The catalyst that provoked them into action happened on the cold channel coast of Austrasia.
The County of Flanders.
For years the Counts of Flanders had become rich off trade that Emperor Charles had promoted. Traders from England and Scandinavia arrived in the markets of Flanders, and the counts had lined their pockets quite nicely. King Thomas’s actions however, disturbed the Flanders. His actions of splitting up the Empire could mean the end for the prosperity that they had flourished under. So, in the first months of 840, the Count of Flanders took a risk, and changed his allegiance from Austrasia to Neustria, although he had been promised by the Emperor that one the Great Struggle was over, then Flanders would have a considerable level of autonomy when compared to the other barons, Dukes and Counts within Neustria.
It was the straw that eventually broke the camels back. In 840, as he camped at Claremont in Aquitaine, Hugh received a group of barons from Spain.
- - -
Claremont was a town of ash and fire. Its importance as a centre of the Church had been well established: the abbey even held a holy relic: a piece of the True Cross. It also had some level of strategic importance, and both of these qualities made the victory of the Imperial army here so important. Now, however, another important event was about to take place.
The Spaniards greeted Hugh in the abbey, which Hugh had requisitioned rather then stay in a tent. The Count of Barcelona, Count Leo, was the chosen spokesman for the group.
“Hail to Hugh, son of Charles, King of the Romans, Imperitor Augustus. We have travelled far to seek council with you oh Emperor. For to long the King of Aquitaine has acted as lord over lands, and word has reached us that your brother would grant Lothar de jure control over Spain. We all oppose this to a man, and we must take the only logical course of action.”
Leo of Barcelona bowed to Hugh, and the other Spaniards followed suit.
“We do however.” Continued Leo, “Have a few conditions.”
Hugh tapped his fingers on his chair, his elation turned to annoyance.
“Go on.”
Taking out a piece of parchment, Leo unfurled it and began to read.
“We want the same rights as the Teutons, as in that we want the creation of a Spanish Kingdom under a candidate that we have chosen. We want the same amount of autonomy and rights that those who live in the Kingdom of the Teutons, such as a written code of law. We also want the county of Septimania to be added to this new Kingdom. In return for that, we shall swear fealty to you as Emperor, and our soldiers will be join your ranks. ”
Silence filled the room as Hugh considered the Spaniards remarks. Standing next to him was Eduin, a monk who had long been at his side, and whose opinion Hugh held in high regard. The monk leaned over and whispered into his masters ear.
“My lord, the counts of Spain are much further away from Karlsburg then any other lands, and have always held a level of autonomy. This decree would make what is already de facto de jure.”
“I will not hand over rule to Spain so hastily.” Hissed Hugh back.
“But haste is exactly what we need Oh Emperor. Should we delay, then they may offer it to your brother. We need the Spanish troops more then they know.”
That was true. Although Claremont and most of the eastern part of Aquitaine had been seized, Hugh’s spies reported that Lothar was mustering an army and calling upon Thomas to help him. With his forces spread thin across the ground here his victory could be undone with one loss on the battlefield.
“Very well.” He said, glaring at the Spanish Counts. “Swear fealty to me, and you shall have your king.” He stood up and left the chamber, his entourage trailing behind him.
As he stormed out of the building and out into the courtyard, Eduin ran after him.
“If I may be so bold Oh Lord.” He began, “Spain could be the perfect example to help win over those subject who haven’t made up their minds on what side they will fight. Make offers to install kings, under your authority of course.”
“So, in order to win this civil war and retain my title of Emperor, I have to surrender a greater and greater amount of my authority?”
“Not at all. This promotion of local power within the Empire will strengthen it as it strengthened your grandfather’s rule. And it would give you the opportunity to fix Austrasia.”
“How exactly?”
“Combine the two kingdoms into one, bar the lands that you have promised to the Teutons. You can then retain the title of King of the Franks alongside your Imperial title. Should that fail…” the monk trailed off.
“Yes?” inquired the Emperor angrily. “What is it?”
“Theodric is the weakest link in Thomas’s motley coalition. Offer him the position of co-Emperorship.”
“What?” shouted Hugh. “It just gets better and better! Co-Emperor? Co-bloody-Emperor? Why don’t I just fucking abdicate then?”
“If you would just let me finished my lord, once things have….settled down, your brother could be disposed off. You seem to know how to do that.” Added Ediun under his breath.
- - -
The news of the creation of the Kingdom of Spain was greeted with a mixed reaction across the war-torn Empire. A month after the announcement of the Spanish Kingdom, Hugh offered the Duke of Burgundy an upgrade, along with the County of Providence as a deal sealer, although it forced Providence into Thomas’s camp. As 840 turned into 841, Hugh, now triumphant in the west and solidly entrenched in Austrasia, he turned his attention east, where Thomas had built up a secure hold. As Hugh marched into Bavaria, he won an astounding victory over the combined Bavarian and Italian forces on the northern fields. The Italian forces were ineffective, as Thomas’s agents spread seeds of dissent through the Kingdom, and a Lombard pretender to the throne emerged in Turin.
As he marched south, his forward scouts brought him good news. His youngest brother, Theodric had been captured fleeing to Salzburg.
- - -
Theodric sat in a tent, his hands and feet bound and tied to the floor. Outside it was snowing: the first snow of winter was falling, bringing with it freezing winds straight of the Alps.
The tent door was flung open and four men walked in. Two were guards, the other was dressed in black. Black gloves, tunic, pants and boots, along with a billowing black cape. It was his elder brother Hugh. At his shoulder was a weasel-faced monk.
“Hello brother.” Said Theodric, looking up at the Emperor. “How many years has it been since I last saw you? To few I would imagine.”
Scowling, Hugh grabbed Theodric and threw him to the ground.
“You have let yourself be captured Theodric. Thomas is not doing much of a job to protect you. Your Kingdom is in ruins, you are beaten. Do not let yourself be destroyed as Bernard did.”
Theordic spat in his face, and Hugh stamped down on his brother right hand, causing him to cry out in pain.
“There is no escape. Don’t make me kill you brother.” Snarled Hugh. The weasel-faced monk ran up to the Emperor and whispered in his ear. Hugh grunted, and leaned down to fact Theodric.
“Theordric, you do not yet realise your importance. Join me, and with our combined strength we can end this destructive conflict and restore peace to the Empire.”
Theodric dragged himself up and stared at his brother.
“I’ll never join you. You killed our father.”
Hugh fell into a rage at those words, and reigned many blows upon his brother, until his guards had to pull him off.
“So be it.” Hugh murmured. “You are more use to me as a hostage anyway.”
- - -
In one month, Thomas lost his two most powerful allies, Theodric of Bavaria and Bernard of Italy. Theordic had been captured by Hugh, and Bernard had been over thrown by one of Hugh’s Lombardy pets.
His allies dissolving like the morning fog, Thomas was isolated. Many of his Austrasian dukes had turned against him, and he was running out of places to hide. On Good Friday, Thomas met Hugh, dressed in his now recognisable black robes, under the white flag of peace outside the walls of Paris. Thomas surrendered to his brother, surrendering the crown of Austrasia, and went into exile in Northumbira. It was 842, and after nine years of civil war, the Empire was at peace. There was still the matter of the creation of new Kingdoms, as Hugh had promised. In 843, at his campus maii, Hugh outlined the sub-division of his Empire. Eight Kingdoms were formed: Alemannia, Aquitaine, Bavaria, Burgundy, Francia, Italy, Teutonia, and Spain. [4] Those Kings were granted a greater level of autonomy: They could mint their own money, have their own laws, the only provision being their subservience to the Emperor, and provide him with soldiers in his campaigns. A new Kings Council was established at Karslburg, and would eventually fulfil the role that the campus maii, which was formerly abolished in 865. This Kings Council would elect the King of the Romans upon the death of an Emperor. [5]
As the Franks where now no longer the dominant rulers of the Empire, the nomenclature of the Empire changed, as the title Emperor of the Franks was no longer relevant. The title of ‘Roman Empire’ was not chosen, simply out of a desire not to provoke the Greek Emperors in the east. It would take until the end of the 9th Century until the issue would resolve itself, when the title of Holy Roman Empire was used. [6]
Although he had secured his Empire, and successfully waged a nine-year civil war, Hugh had silenced his domestic enemies with bribery and murder. However, forces outside his Empire would keep him on his toes for the rest of his years.
- - -
[1] Although pitched battles between battles between armies claiming loyalty to either Hugh or Thomas had taken place in these lands, but not lead by any leaders of the lands, rather local aristocrats.
[2] Most early Medieval monarchs were elected to their post by the nobles of the lands.
[3] The title King of the Teutons rather then King of the Saxons is used because although the core area is Saxon, Thurgundians and other minor Germanic marches are included in the new Kingdom.
[4] There are areas of Hugh’s Empire that are not included in these eight kingdoms. The Margrave of Denmark, the March of Pribina, Ostmark and the March of Fiuli are all outside any of the eight Kingdoms, although the Margrave of Denmark is under the influence of the Teutonic Kingdom.
[5] In order to that the title Imperitor Augustus, the Emperor had to first get the title of King of the Romans.
[6] This is several centuries before, simply because TTL’s Holy Roman Empire is a less homogenous state.
- - -
Thoughts?
- Status