Chapter 65 – The Price of Power
December 24, 909 AD
It was December, nearing the end of the Julian year, and as usual each clan got together for the Chanukkah celebrations. While the soldiers in the steppes of Cumania naturally weren't granted such a privilege, the Khagan and his generals of noble descent were entitled to spend the festive period at home. The Cumans were not putting up all too much resistance anyway. The distances and the climate posed much more of a drag to the Khazar war effort and no one was all too keen to spend the winter in Siberia. As last year, the horde fortified their position in more favorable areas for the colder months and prepared for a new push once spring came.
In Tmutarakan, a special visitor was expected who was now supposed to arrive by the minute. Çilen Ashina, whose twin daughters had turned four years old a month ago, was already hyped the whole day. Now she was waiting nervously at the entrance to the camp. Finally, a group of riders in quick movement emerged on the horizon.
The riders arrived minutes later. Two squires from the Divine Guard hurried toward the old, but spry woman in their center to help her out the saddle.
"Aunt Yeldem!", Çilen shouted and ran toward her. Yeldem Ashina smiled melancholically and the two women shared a long, heartfelt embrace.
"Çilen, my love. It's so beautiful to see you." Yeldem looked at her niece and carefully swept a strand of hair out of Çilen's face. "You look stunning. Last time I saw you you were a teenager, but before me stands a grown woman."
"It's been much too long. I've been dying to introduce the girls to you. Finally they get to meet the woman I'm telling all these stories about", an excited Çilen replied.
"And I am heartbroken that it took me until today. I was not able to be here for their birth, nor to pay the according honor to Zachariah. There was nothing I could do about it, and it pained me every day... Only now that the civil war in Bulgaria is finally over for good, the roads are safe to travel for me again."
"What matters is that you're here now, Aunt. I've not been looking forward to Chanukkah so much since I was a little child."
"It feels good to be home. Thank you, Çilen." Yeldem smiled in her mysterious way and embraced her niece again. "There's Tarkhan. We'll carry on talking later."
In the meantime, the Khagan and his honor guard had arrived as well to welcome the rare visitor. Yeldem turned toward them, the men saluted and Tarkhan bowed deeply. His aunt responded with a flawless curtsey, to the impression of the bystanders. "
Khagan Tarkhan. You've come a long way for sure, young man."
"Good to see you,
Queen Yeldem", Tarkhan replied with a slight grin, yet in equally professional manner.
"From what I hear, the Khaganate flourishes, and so does the clan. You also must have made a lasting impression on Byzantium. Ever since Charsianon, it's hard for our diplomats to determine if they hate or fear Khazaria more right now."
Tarkhan's grin got more pronounced. "If they know what's good for them, they will opt for the fear - and be prepared next time. Or they keep fighting each other and perish eventually - one way or the other."
"Agreed. Inner conflicts are a surefire way to destroy an otherwise strong realm...and much more", Yeldem added with a hint of bitterness. "But I am digressing...I hope your women are all fine? Awkward that I cannot mention a family yet."
Tarkhan was unsure whether his otherwise always well-informed aunt actually wasn't aware of his concubine Noushin's pregnancy, announced in October shortly after his return from Cumania, or she just wanted to taunt him.
"They're all fine and well, thank you. Sochava, my newest...acquaintance from Siberia, will probably still need some time to adjust, but I am sure that in time, she will fit in just fine. And as for the family – no need to be embarassed, there's remedy on the way", Tarkhan replied in roguish tone.
"Now those are even more good news! It was really about time I paid a visit", laughed Yeldem. "I am looking forward to meet them all tonight. Until them, I am going to take a rest and accomodate myself."
"Very well. Should you need something, the Divine Guard is at your disposal.", proclaimed Tarkhan.
"I know, thank you. For now, it's sufficient if they show me to my quarters", returned Yeldem.
***
After the dinner, the Ashina clan along with their families had taken place on comfortable woolen pillows and blankets around a campfire in the middle of the large gathering hall. Now the mood was relieved, the adults were chatting and Sarantay's children, a lively bunch of eight to nine years, were playing catch. Çilen's girls were already brought to bed - by their nurse, as the young princess was eager to converse with her aunt.
"Your daughters are absolutely delightful, my child", Yeldem said to Çilen. "You are right to be proud. I hope I also meet your husband next time."
Çilen beamed with joy. "Thank you. If God wills it, they might become Queens someday too. Egill is only a simple man, but I know He has a plan for them. I'm sure of it."
There it was again, this look in Yeldem's eyes. Benevolent and yet filled with sorrow. "Be careful what you wish for, Çilen. You are so young still, you have so much to learn..."
Çilen was puzzled. "Why would you say that? You lived up to everything a Khazar princess could hope for, and more."
"Yes. And I did not even have to put up with a narcissistic, violent or imbecile man for decades to get there. That is indeed more than one could wish for. It is only once you are on top that you realize it's not all throwing feasts, wearing nice jewels and being admired by handsome princes."
"When you say it like that, it sounds obvious...but it's hard to grip why it would not be desirable after all. Does not every young woman dream of becoming a Queen?"
Yeldem turned serious. "You did not understand me properly. It isn't about
becoming a Queen. That's exciting, and depending on the circumstances you can even assure yourself you're on the right side of history. Simeon's brother, for instance, was an abysmal King, a coward who hid behind his walls and oppressed his people. Everyone wanted him to go. I never would have given second thought to backing Simeon's claim to the throne. I even took care to acquire a Khazarian host to support us – because there was no reason to doubt we were doing the right thing.
No,
being a Queen – or a King, for that matter - is what I am talking about. You don't have to look further than to your brother over there. Have you wondered why there was a new Court Rabbi holding the ceremony this afternoon?"
"Not really, no. I did of course notice, but I was too busy looking after the children to ask Tarkhan what's with it..."
Yeldem lowered her voice. "While that's understandable, I have indeed wondered. Azariah is an old friend and has always been a loyal servant to Khazaria, so I went to see him and his family."
"And what did they say?"
"Not much. Which is no surprise, considered that his only son died during the night. Cancer, apparently. Just as his other son, twenty years ago. And on the same day, Tarkhan retires him from all positions. In a few hours, the man has lost his legacy – and then his existence."
Çilen frowned. "That is tragic, but I don't see why..."
"They're not the only ones. Zachariah, Yabghu, Itakh Jabdertim and his father before him...the list goes on, and all were under his supervision. As accomplished as Azariah is as a medicus – it's hard to believe in a coincidence. If he sees cancer where there is none, or worse, he has fallen in disgrace with God and somehow
causes the disease, Tarkhan is right to remove him from his positions, no matter how much it devastates an already battered man whose occupation is his life. Which makes it no less a terrible thing to do to a person."
Looking towards Tarkhan who was telling a humorous story from the march to Cumania to the great amusement of Sarantay, her husband Vencel and Çilen's mother Irge, the princess couldn't but remark "It does not seem like Tarkhan struggles too much with it."
"You are right, he probably doesn't. It is up to one's own whether you let the unpleasant decisions, like firing a man who has lost his family on Chanukkah, get to you – and whether you recognize their consequences. The point is that a ruler will encounter those decisions sooner or later...and sometimes, they will not only involve dismissing someone from your services."
"What are you speaking of, Aunt?"
Yeldem sighed deeply. "I guess you're not a little girl anymore...and still there's so much you need to learn. I mentioned earlier that I was not able to travel for a long time, right?"
"Yes. And you said it was because of the war."
"Mostly because of that, yes. Now tell me, my child, what do you know about this war?"
"Well, that it went down between King Simeon and his brother who would not accept his rule...that it lasted for over seven years, cost many lives on both sides and recently ended in your favor. I was always wondering when it would finally be over, with everyone being sure there was no way you would lose to those renegades."
Yeldem showed a mild smile. "Those are the hard facts...but there is more to a war like this, Çilen. Let me tell you the story of another young Khazar princess who wanted to be a Queen with all her heart.
When I married Simeon, he and his older brother Gavril were still Dukes and their father King Boris 'Ironside' on the throne. It was already apparent to me and many others by then that Gavril wasn't a good ruler. He terrorized his court in his ubiquitous fear of backstabbers, thereby creating all the reasons for people to hate him in the first place. And he squeezed the peasants out of taxes to the brink of famine to provide for his own 'security'.
Yet, he was the older of the two and therefore stood to inherit the crown. The only way to change that would be to dispose of him altogether. Simeon refused staunchly to even consider that. He's a good-hearted man and has always been, believe me that. He never would have raised a hand against his brother. And yet...but I'm getting ahead of myself.
So Gavril was crowned King when Boris died, almost thirty years ago by now. Simeon accepted this, and with the lands from Boris' inheritance he was easily the most powerful of the lords under Gavril. While he never planned to raise arms against his brother, it soon turned out that Gavril would not grow into his role as King. For fifteen years, Gavril angered the Dukes with excessive tax and levy demands and kept up his mismanagement of his now much larger domain. I told you earlier how unpopular he was.
The suspicions Gavril was having about his court and his vassals got worse over time. With more power came greater fear of losing it. And with Simeon being the next one in line except for his own son Trpimir who was only a toddler at the time, it seemed obvious to Gavril that only he – or someone close to him - could be responsible for the supposed murder plans against his family. It took Simeon a failed attempt from Gavril's thugs on his own life, and some additional persuasion, to realize this could not go on forever.
So there we were, pursued by the King for the crime of being his brother, although Simeon had always been loyal and only wanted to avoid harm being done to anyone. The alternatives were to wait for our own execution...or go to war. Against Simeon's own brother. Bulgarians being sent to fight their own people...
This is the kind of decisions I speak of."
Yeldem took a deep drag of her ale and gazed into the far. Çilen had listened closely and her expression got more serious the longer her aunt was recounting.
"So Simeon didn't actually want to depose his brother? But he would likely never have become King with Gavril already having a son, would he?"
"Correct. Maybe he already sensed what was to come. Yet there was no other option. The war that followed already lasted close to five years – longer than anyone would have expected. Gavril was convinced that foreign powers were behind all this. He was unwilling to surrender until the very last moment before he would have had nowhere to run. Countless lives were lost and a divide among the people created that only deepened since then.
After the war, Simeon wanted to give the kingdom time to recover, so he chose to leave Gavril alone, figuring that it would be settled who's the stronger one...and once again, from the best intentions came only more suffering. It did not take half a year until Gavril rose up in arms again and started the second war, this one seven years long as you already know. Once again, men were deployed against their own kinsmen. Simeon wanted to preserve the peace...and what he got was an even longer and more emaciating war."
"So you should take care of your enemies while you still can.", interjected Çilen.
"One could think that. Then again, it is what Gavril tried when he went after Simeon and me. At least he thought so. And from his point of view, it seemed logical and justified. And yet, everything ended in endless fighting. What I am trying to tell you is that there are no easy thumb rules, and often enough there are no good options and you have to choose between more or less probable catastrophic outcomes.
I cannot say you are entirely wrong though. You know, the reason why the second civil war finally ended was beyond military ones. Gavril died last summer, of natural causes as far as anyone knows. Now his son Trpimir was in power – and his regent immediately called this long-lost endeavour off. Trpimir was also in our custody at the time, from the earlier sack of Gavril's home castle...he should have known he cannot win by then, but he never would have surrendered."
"I have a feeling where this is going..." replied Çilen, who had already heard rumours. Something as heinous as was reported from Bulgaria these days was bound to spread like wildfire. Yeldem only looked at her in deep sorrow.
"Trpimir would beyond doubt have wanted to avenge his father and challenge our own son Boris one day, plunging the country into disarray again. It had to be done, but the burden is heavy. You do not know the self-accusation, the doubt whether your actions are in any way justifiable before God, but not knowing what else to do..."
Çilen was sincerely shocked. "So it is true that you...", she toned down to a whisper, "threw him into a pit full of...venomous snakes?"
"What?! No! That is bizarre! Who on Earth would do such a thing?" Yeldem looked completely quizzical, then got serious again. "...He died in his sleep. Unlikely that he ever felt anything of it. Did you by chance hear the snake-pit story from your husband?"
"How do you..."
"Oh, dear." Now Yeldem had to smile again. "Don't believe everything those Northmen tell you by the letter. They have a tendency to value poetry over factual accuracy. And courts do have a tendency to resemble snake pits in that way, I'll give them that.
More importantly, as you might have figured by now: think twice before you indulge into power struggles. What I just told you is what might happen when you
succeed. Better not think about trying and failing. Few people get a second chance."
"I promise, Aunt. I need to think about this...and I want to see Bulgaria soon and hear more stories about being a Queen. Thank you for all the advice."
"You are always welcome, my child. And now I would like another ale."
Yeldem waved a servant towards her and Çilen looked around the scene deep in thought. What to make of this? It wasn't that she was any less inclined to see her daughters – or even herself – on a throne some day, but obviously there were a great deal of perils to it.
Me and Egill will manage come time, she finally thought.
The fatalism comes soon enough once we're old...
