Song of the Karlings: Karloman's Legacy

[LPDK 356]

September 801, Iberia

When Pepin awoke, his first conscious thought was of a huge, near constant pain in his side.



In his head still dinned the noise and shouts of battle, so when he opened his eyes he found himself surprised to be abed, starting at tent walls…



He heard a dim shout, and attempted to prop himself up on his elbow… only to fall again with a shattering stab of pain through his side once again.



His eyes swam as he attempted to adjust to the peak of silent, blurred figures moving before him.



“Here Highness, drink,”



He felt rough hands shove the waterskin into his arms, felt the taste of it drip down his throat as he sipped it down gingerly.



His eyes had begun to adjust and he recognised one of his staff officers peering at him in concern.



“Did we win?” Pepin croaked, licking his cracked, dried lips. “The battle,” he prompted in response to a confused look, “Did we win it?”



“We did Highness, though the war rages on. Around ten thousand Moorish forces have done battle with our allies in Asturias and triumphed there. King Froilo’s court has fled the capital into Francia, and the Umayyads occupy it.”


“So we fight a second force further north?”


“Aye Highness, the commanders were just discussing a re-deployment of our army.”


“Then I must be there,” Pepin pulled himself up, ignoring the sudden pain in his side that made him wince.”


“The physicians said you are not yet healed Highness,” the young man protested.



“I don’t need to be healed to talk,” Pepin replied, through gritted teeth. “Strategy can be done even when wounded.”


So it was that word spread quickly through the camp of the Prince’s survival and return to the command tent, and the morale of the army, flagging after his injuries and news of the renewed threat to the Kingdom of Asturias further north, soared once more.



Sultan Zeyd had shifted his strategy after his army had been defeated by Pepin’s forces at Tarragona, pulling the remains of his battered army west to defend the rest of the peninsula against further Frankish incursions while his ten thousand strong second force wreaked havoc on the borders of Asturias in the north.



“He knows we’ll have to shift our positions to defend Froilo,” Pepin muttered, “This Sultan is clever.”


“Clever indeed Highness, but we’ve got options. Your father may send fresh forces over the mountains to defend Asturias, and if our forces can link up with theirs, we’d have numerical superiority and the element of surprise.”


“A good plan if they don’t see it coming,” Pepin admitted. “But in any case we’ll have to start moving north first, and then I’ll send a runner to the Emperor to inform him of our progress.”


So it was that the army pulled up stakes, abandoning it’s defensive positions in the south and pulling back further into Frankish territory to defend safer ground. By October, word had been received of a gathering of a large force of Frankish sellswords on the other side of the Pyrenees, who would cross in order to defend the Kingdom of Asturias before the worst of winter set in…





November, 801. Paris



When Emperor Karloman returned to public appearances after the news came of his son’s recovery, the court was utterly shocked by his transformation. He seemed emaciated, wasted and thinned more than ever. The hair, once blonde with only a few streaks of grey, was not solid white, and solid dark circles ringed his eyes. He seemed distracted, often asking courtiers or petitioners to repeat certain things that he had either misheard or misremembered. His walk, once brisk and impatient, was now a shuffling, stooped thing that made him seem aged by twenty years in barely a few months.



Few would express concerns for the Emperor’s health, and those few who did were brushed aside with a contemptuous wave of the hand.



“It is not for us to interfere my sons,” Brother Gelduin counselled those who came to him, concerned. “The issue of the Emperor’s health is a matter for him alone.”


And so it seemed to remain, despite Karloman’s new fraility, he continued his duties and his court business as though nothing whatsoever had altered in him.


And so it remained until Karloman began to leave council on November 10th. As he strode from his war table towards the door, the Emperor’s vision suddenly swam and he staggered against the wall.



“Help!” he heard a cry as he crashed to the ground.





The servants rushed into the room, and the physician was summoned immediately while the Emperor, white-faced and barely conscious, was carried to his chambers…





The physician believed the Emperor had sustained a sudden bout of ill health on account of the recent disturbance of his son’s injuries, but could not point to a precise diagnosis, electing instead to merely keep an eye on him.



On the next morn, the Emperor was still semi-conscious, drifting fitfully in and out of wakefulness, talking to people who were not their or loved ones who were long dead.



“I think we should summon the Crown Prince,” Brother Gelduin informed the others in the council. “It might be safer if he returned at this time.”


Nobody in the room pointed out the obvious implications. The only reason why Pepin might need to return is if the possibility existed that Karloman would not survive. Normally few would’ve worried, Karloman’s health had been markedly robust, but with his recent weakness…





A messenger was dispatched to ride hard and fast to the south as quickly as possible, to summon the Crown Prince to return, as the Emperor drifted back and forth on the doorstep of death…

 

[Midnite Duke]

This Iberian foray has a pale horseman riding point. First, the crown prince was severely wounded. Now, King Karloman has had a series of strokes/heart attacks My chronicler, I hope that your work with medicine is as renown as your work with words.

 

[TWR97]

A grave omen indeed, for the crown prince to recover yet the Emperor to fall ill. Grim tidings for the realm, may it not be so because I reckon Karloman still has many things planned out, but then again, the saying goes, Men plan, God laughs.

 

[LPDK 356]

November, 801



Prince Pepin had been sleeping soundly when the rough feeling of a soldier’s hands shoved him awake.



“Apologies Highness,” the gruff voice pierced the groggy state of semi-sleep in which the Prince still lingered, “But a rider came from the capital in the night… Said it’s urgent.”


Pepin struggled to open his eyes to ask the fellow what was so damned important as to interrupt him at this hour, but by the time he managed it, the fellow was already disappearing through the small flap on the tent door…





Grinning ruefully, the heir to the empire shoved some armour on and buckled his weapons in before he left his tent to head to the command tent.



The messenger, he could see at once, obviously did have urgent news. He looked half-dead, swaying on the spot, dark rounded circles clearly visible beneath eyes that looked dull and lifeless.



“What is the news son?” Pepin asked kindly, his initial irritation at having been woken vanishing entirely in light of the fellow’s appearance.



“News from the capital Highness,” the fellow clumsily saluted in a way that would’ve earned him a whipping had he been on duty, but neither Pepin nor the poor fellow before him were in any state to care for formalities at the moment.



“Yes?” Pepin prompted, fearing the worst.



“Your father sire… he… he seems to be near the end. Brother Gelduin said…”


But Pepin was already leaving the room.



“Saddle my horse!” he barked at the nearest guard standing on duty. “At Once!”



“Yes Highness!” they scrambled to obey…





November, 801.



Within the hour, Pepin was saddled and riding out the gates of the camp at full gallop, leaving the somewhat bewildered Duke of Tolouse in charge of the bestirred army. Heedless of the throbbing pain in his side and his own state of weariness, the Prince rode like a man possessed for what felt like weeks, but could’ve only been days, at most. Only one thought entered his mind, only one dominating impulse guided him.



Father needs me.



And Pepin had never been one to let his father down.





It was remarkable that within four days Pepin was back in Paris, though the wound in his side was now aching in a way that could no longer be called ‘dull’, and his own state of weariness was such that were it not for the adrenaline of fear that had propelled him forward for days, he would’ve collapsed instantly.



“Take me to him!” he barked to the somewhat startled palace servants who saw him arrive like a whirlwind blowing into the courtyard.



The priests were found, and Pepin was quickly ushered through to his father’s chambers.



The messenger had been correct. Karloman’s condition was as bad as he had been told.



“He has slipped into a state of semi-consciousness.” The physician told Pepin, his face grave and grey looking. “I do not believe it will be long now.”



Pepin, for his part, merely strode over to the side of the bed were his father lay in state, and gripped the pale, white hand in his own.



“I am here father,” he murmured softly. “I am here. Alive and well.”



But if Karloman heard him, he gave no sign of it.





Pepin later recalled very little of the days that followed. Those long terrible hours where his father lay in state, tossing and fitfully turning. Occasionally, he murmured something unintelligible or cried out to some unseen ghost, but gave no sign of lucidity. Pepin heard the words “Karl” and “mother” a few times, but never anything that indicated his father knew where he was or what he was seeing. Occasionally, his own name was mumbled through that terrible haze.





On the fourth day, Karloman’s eyes fluttered open.



“Pepin?” a strangled whisper came, “My son?”

“I am here father,” Pepin leapt forward, forgetting the weariness that had seeped into his bones. “I am here.”


“You are safe? Alive?” Karloman looked as pale as death!, “Am I not dreaming?”

“No dream father,” Pepin assured him, squeezing that weak, clammy hand, “I am indeed here, alive and well.”


“Good,” a strangled whisper. Then the Emperor closed his eyes again and drifted into sleep.



The terrible, fitfulness stopped. Karloman stopped tossing and turning as his pulse slowed and his heart gradually ceased to beat.



“Brother, I shall be glad to come home.” These were the only words Pepin heard him speak from then on.





Thus passed Karloman Karling, Emperor of the Franks and Romans. Conqueror of the Saxons. Augustus of the West.



The day was November 16th 801 anno domini, when the Emperor passed from his life.



“The Emperor is dead.” It was Brother Anselm, the quiet monk whom had comforted the Prince and prayed with him in the Emperor’s final days who spoke.



Then he got down on his knees, and knelt before Pepin.



“Long Live the Emperor.”

OOC: I wanted to write more for this one, but what more could be said? It happened very suddenly ingame as well, for no apparent reason, so I chose in-story to connect it with Pepin's recent wounds and the stress this caused. I sort of did try to prepare people a bit for it with the way Karloman was acting in the scenes where he was desperate for Pepin to recover, but obviously it's still sudden. I hope this was done in a way people enjoy.

There'll definitely be some focus on Karloman in the immediate aftermath of his death, since Pepin will obviously now be having to assume the throne and begin his own reign, but he'll need a bit of time to come to terms with what happened and how sudden it was. I thought referring back to the beginning was fitting for Karloman's last words, since the act he committed to take power is the one I genuinely think he never forgave himself for. Alas, he was a great character to write and I shall miss him!


But Pepin's story it well and truly is now, and he's a different sort of block from what his old man was, so we'll see how well he does! I hope you'll enjoy him as much as you did Karloman's presence. He's different, but I have as much fun with the adult Pepin as I did with him as a child, even if we'll start to see him make some even more difficult choices now that he's an Emperor.

Thanks to everyone who stuck with me so long. I never once dreamed things would get to this point and really had no idea what I was getting into with an AAR of this size and complexity when I started to write one day after being seized with the sudden urge to do so around about the time I reached this spot in the Karling campaign I conducted from the 769 start. I always felt something of an affinity for the neglected, forgotten or underdogs of history, so starting as Carloman seemed like a fun lark. I had no idea this would be the result, but am immensely glad I did it.


Stick around if you want more, there's plenty more to come

 

[Midnite Duke]

Farewell, Emperor. You no longer have to deal with earthly demons. What questions you will have to answer is beyond me? I did not realize that Karloman was that weak militarily (single digit) and that skilled in diplomacy, intrigue and learning. What is the 4K enemy army in the north? Tough break for the Sunnis, gone from facing the Prince (duke?) to the might of the empire. Can we get a meet & greet with Emperor Pepin and his family (at least spouse and heir)? I have enjoyed every step of the year and half journey. Thank you very much for your time and skill.

 

[Historywhiz]

Imperator est mortus, Vivat Imperator!

 

[LPDK 356]

Farewell, Emperor. You no longer have to deal with earthly demons. What questions you will have to answer is beyond me? I did not realize that Karloman was that weak militarily (single digit) and that skilled in diplomacy, intrigue and learning. What is the 4K enemy army in the north? Tough break for the Sunnis, gone from facing the Prince (duke?) to the might of the empire. Can we get a meet & greet with Emperor Pepin and his family (at least spouse and heir)? I have enjoyed every step of the year and half journey. Thank you very much for your time and skill.

Thanks so much!

I feel Karloman's death was a bit truncated in both the game and this post, so will probably dedicate another post, or part of one, to kind of unravelling Pepin's feelings about it and how he comes to terms with it. Nothing more than that.

And yes, Karloman's formal training was much more diplomacy, and his military skill was more due to army size after a while than purely his own skill. I always made sure he had good commanders marching with him, at any rate.

As for the north well, the Vikings are still coming


Yes we will definitely focus much more on Pepin's children and family now that he's the central character and his eldest children are growing to the point where I can really start to make them characters in their own right (hard to really do a post from a two or three year old's perspective and make it interesting, but I might try if my skills grow sufficiently).

Thank YOU for your support and continued interest.

 

[LPDK 356]

Hello everyone!

Took a bit of a break last week to have a breather from the story, which is why there was no weekend update, but I have been writing steadily through this week and will have at least one, possibly two updates up by this time next week, with the first schedule for the weekend coming.

Just wanted to drop in to let everyone know I haven't forgotten this and am still working on it Thanks for your forbearance

 

[LPDK 356]

December, 801.



Word had spread throughout the Empire of the death of Karloman, Augustus of the West.



In Hispania, the Duke of Toulouse, Theodoric of House Nibelung, had been left the uneviable task of sorting out the mess that the Hispanian War had become. With his own Emperor dead and the Prince having departed, his next orders from the capital involved opening negotiations with the Sultan for an equitable peace. Both sides had suffered in the fighting, with the Sultan losing along the coast and the Franks being outmanuovered in the north with the larger Muslim armies threatening Asturias, and opening the prospect of them menacing the Franks from the rear if they broke through.



It was some days of hard wrangling to arrange a meeting with the Sultan’s negotiators. He was no diplomat, was Duke Theodoric, but as the senior fellow left in command of the army, it fell to him to negotiate the extraction.



The Sultan’s negotiators would not cede any territory, forcing the Franks to content themselves with only a small indemnity to the treasury, and the withdrawal of the Moors from Asturias and a return to the territorial status quo across the peninsula. Little gained, and much lost, was the lesson of that bloody Hispanian war, despite some impressive manoeuvring and victories on both sides.



Fundamentally, the death of Karloman had interrupted the normal flow of things. Life at court was at a standstill, and Pepin was soon busy attempting to bury his grief in preparations for his own coronation.



But even prior to the formalities, there was a change in the atmosphere of court. Gone were the grim, drab features of the Palace under Karloman. New decorations and amenities, courtesy of the new Empress-in-Waiting, Elodie de Valois, now hung from the walls, the halls were spruced with colours and decorations, the feasts now more garish and opulent in style than before.



If the Emperor-in-waiting approved of this, or even noticed, he gave little indication of it, immersed in preparations for his own coronation and for his father’s funeral. News came of peace in Hispania, which freed the lords to disband their levies and travel to the capital for the coronation, along with the Pope, come to grant the son what his predecessor had given the father.



But it would be months until all this could be arranged, so Pepin whiled away the time handling administrative matters and re-arranging his council. Shalom, his father’s spymaster whom had replaced Pepin’s own grandmother, Bertrada, had gone into retirement and thus Pepin appointed Thomas, the Duke of Provence, as his replacement. Thomas and Pepin were well-acquainted, and the older man saw himself as something of a mentor to the Prince due to them having fought together in Hispania. Thomas, called “The Spider” had a network of informants that he pledged to place at the new Emperor’s disposal for the challenges ahead. Though Thomas was not well-liked among the other lords or court retainers, his skills would be invaluable for Pepin.





Giovanni, the Bishop of Remini would serve as Pepin’s new Chancellor, as an elder and well-respected cleric, veteran advisor and counsellor to Karloman, Pepin had deigned to reward him for it.



As for other Church roles, Bishop Avremar was chosen to be the Church’s direct representative on the council. Pepin wanted there to be no impediments to the Pontiff in Rome crowning him Emperor as he had his father, and was determined to be as conciliatory as possible in the interim.



As for the military, Pepin kept Baudouin, now the Count of Vermandois as a reward for his prior services, as his Marshal, determined to ensure the Empire continued to be served well by it’s fighting men. He had, had a long relationship with Pepin, and they were friends as well as direct colleagues throughout many of his father’s later campaigns.



The Count of Vendome, Roland, rounded out the list as Steward, though Pepin knew him little, his financial genius among those of his class was unparalled throughout the Empire. Though many sniggered behind his back, calling him a copper-counter and a fussy fop, Pepin knew from his father’s lectures on the subject that without men like Roland, Empires did not run.



But for Pepin, it was not his Empire that concerned him but his father… So much he still had to say… So long had his presence loomed large over his life. There literally hadn’t been a time his father hadn’t been involved. Of his mother, Pepin remembered very little. His father had made her head leave her shoulders before he was old enough to speak full sentences. But his father had been the one presence, aside from his grandmother, who had been a constant. For all that he was a difficult man, Pepin knew there was not another like him, and never would be.



“Don’t be so sure”, Bishop Avremar told him over supper. “Men have a way of coming into their own at the right moment. Perhaps, this is your moment, and when the histories of your reign are written, your glory shall equal his.”



“I doubt it,” Pepin replied, “All men linger in the shadow of those who came before them. It shall be no different for me than it was for my father.”

“Your father stood in no man’s shadow,” Avremar replied firmly. “He was without equal.”


It was meant kindly enough, but that was not true, Pepin knew. His father last word had been to call out to the elder brother he had lost. His late brother Karl.



Pepin was not blind or death, the rumors, the whispers in the darkened halls, the occasional shudder when his name was brought up. Everyone heard the stories that his father had somehow connived in his own brother’s death, that it was the treacherous and deceitful slaying of the elder brother alone that had permitted the younger to ascend into sole power. Pepin had never believed them, had refused to countenance the envious gossip of men. But hearing his father’s final words, some of the murmurings of his dying mind… he wondered.



“Perhaps fortunate then, that I have no brother whom might challenge my reign in the west.”



Nikolaos, his half-brother was being prepared to rule in Constantinople, but was neither known nor liked in the west. He would be no challenge.



And on these unhappy thoughts, Pepin made his way to the children’s rooms…



“Father!”



Renaud and Maurice rushed towards him, arms outstretched.



“Yes,” he replied, kneeling down to embrace them.

“Father is here. Father is home.”



And may you never struggle as Father had to.

Next up, the Coronation of Pepin, and the new Emperor gets to work.

 

[Midnite Duke]

Very, very good council. Excellent marshal! Thank you for the update.

 

[slothinator]

Wow, this was a group of excellent chapters!
Alas poor Karloman, we knew him well. It's a sad thing when such a great man leaves the stage but he was bound to sooner or later. Now it's Pepin's turn to show his worth.
I'm impressed that the empire hasn't begun to fragment yet but I suppose that Pepin is essentially an only child in that respect. Despite Pepin's wish for his sons not to struggle, I fear that these children will be the cause of many a problem in the decades to come.
But, for now, long live the Emperor, may his reign be just and glorious!

 

[LPDK 356]

Wow, this was a group of excellent chapters!
Alas poor Karloman, we knew him well. It's a sad thing when such a great man leaves the stage but he was bound to sooner or later. Now it's Pepin's turn to show his worth.
I'm impressed that the empire hasn't begun to fragment yet but I suppose that Pepin is essentially an only child in that respect. Despite Pepin's wish for his sons not to struggle, I fear that these children will be the cause of many a problem in the decades to come.
But, for now, long live the Emperor, may his reign be just and glorious!

Nooo... When has having a bunch of male children EVER been the cause of succession issues in a big empire??



In all seriousness, thanks for your praise, the support means a huge amount, as always.

I'll have another update up tomorrow

 

[LPDK 356]

Nicolaus, the Pontiff of Rome, had travelled to Paris in order to fulfill his duties to the new Emperor of Rome…



Or at least, that was how Pepin saw it, for himself, the Pontiff saw it as an opportunity to assert his right to crown the Emperor of Rome in the West, and to ensure that, despite the death of Karloman, the Pontiff in Rome could still act unilaterally from the Patriarch of Constantinople and his fellows in the east. The peacable accord sponsored by Eirene and Karloman had not yet broken, despite the latter’s death.



In either case, the Emperor, (or more likely, his newly involved wife and her servants) prepared an elaborate celebration, incorporating a huge ceremony and coronational feast that deliberately emphasised the pomp and magnificience of the Carolingian Emperors. Despite Karloman’s own rather austere and spartan reputation, it seemed his son’s court would be a different animal, in that respect.



As for the Emperor, Pope Nicolaus found him reserved, understated, but also a friendly and jovial figure who liked to engage with his fellows and underlings. Different from his father, in that regard, he had also been cold and aloof with most. His son might not be overly boisterous, but he was a more open and generous man than his father had been, as shown by the opening of the imperial coffers for the festivities, and the street celebrations that were also planned, so the people and merchants of the imperial capital could share in the spectacle.

For the new Emperor at least, it was a smooth beginning, his generosity winning him praise, the Pope’s coronation securing his legitimacy, and his well-chosen council of wise and capable advisors seemed to indicate auspicious beginnings to his reign.



802-803CE

In September of 802, Empress Eirene died, and left her throne to her son with Karloman, that Nicolas, whom had briefly visited his father’s court and fared so poorly there. Despite this poor impression, initial diplomatic relations remained intact, as the half-brothers agreed via intermediaries to keep to the arrangement of separate, self-governance of the two Empires that their parents had made, with neither one seeking to claim the other’s territory.



Yet it was to the north that Pepin’s initial problems lay. Since those first initial coastal raids, the Norsemen grew bolder year by year, sailing up the Francian and Saxon coasts in their longships, appearing to raid, loot and devastate and then disappear back into the sea before intervention could come. The Emperor knew the nuisance would grow into a threat outright if left unchecked, and the coastal lords were proving ill-equipped to tackle the heathen menace.



It was to here, that the new Emperor thus would first turn his attention, once the new raiding season began…



OOC: Setting up some of the conflicts to come, and also the new European situation now with both Karloman and Eirene dead in a fairly short span of time.


Pepin's sons will start getting some POVs and some more attention in their own right now, as will some of the internal machinations within the Empire that Karloman mostly kept a lid on but might have some people trying their luck now he's gone


Will have another post up before next weekend, since we're getting to some fun stuff.

 

[Midnite Duke]

The royal court will be different with a consort on hand for the social aspects and Pepin being more open than his father. What is the name for northern France as Normandy comes from the Norse raiders/settlers? Thank you for the update.

 

[Historywhiz]

The royal court will be different with a consort on hand for the social aspects and Pepin being more open than his father. What is the name for northern France as Normandy comes from the Norse raiders/settlers? Thank you for the update.

I believe the CK games call it Neustria, which apparently is wrong as almost the entire area of what the game calls de-jure the kingdom of France should properly be the kingdom of Neustria.

Neustria - Wikipedia

en.m.wikipedia.org

 

[LPDK 356]

The royal court will be different with a consort on hand for the social aspects and Pepin being more open than his father. What is the name for northern France as Normandy comes from the Norse raiders/settlers? Thank you for the update.

Good question on Normandy! Haven't actually decided that one, so I've been trying to avoid mentioning/thinking about it too much. Consider "North Francia" as a placehold for now if it comes up, but it may or may not end up getting the name Normandy later on anyway, either for gameplay or narrative reasons (I shan't confirm or deny yet, since the Viking age is only just starting)

 

[LPDK 356]

I believe the CK games call it Neustria, which apparently is wrong as almost the entire area of what the game calls de-jure the kingdom of France should properly be the kingdom of Neustria.

Neustria - Wikipedia

en.m.wikipedia.org

Interesting! Yeah, I had some attempt months ago to read what the region was called prior to Viking settlement/invasion, but I've had trouble finding much in the way of good sources. Certainly happy to incorporate it if anyone more knowledgable than me happens to come along with good info

 

[Midnite Duke]

I believe the CK games call it Neustria, which apparently is wrong as almost the entire area of what the game calls de-jure the kingdom of France should properly be the kingdom of Neustria.

Neustria - Wikipedia

en.m.wikipedia.org

The Roman Gallia Belgica could be another possibility, but probably not as good after Frankish arrival

 

[LPDK 356]

The Roman Gallia Belgica could be another possibility, but probably not as good after Frankish arrival

Fair!

I think Neustria will have to do it unless I get a better source, since it's admittedly not my area of expertise and so far as I can find from the sources I do know that's what the region is called (though it encompassed a much larger area than just what we now call Normandy, but since those regions have names in the game already that aren't quite as glaringly anachronistic that's less an issue for my purposes).

Needless to say, there might well be SOME Norse influence in the north as there was in history, though I don't see Karloman's successors just handing it over to the raiders, so we'll see what happens for sure.

 

[Midnite Duke]

For a moment, I thought that we were in @El Pip's The Butterfly Effect and going to have a three page discussion on names for northern France if we did not have Norse settlement.