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I've long thought the history of Strathclyde is interesting, and it will be interesting to see what happens next for Alt Clut.
Chapter XII - Paramours and Papists (845-850)
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Chapter XII - Paramours and Papists (845-850)
27th April 847 - Alt Clut
As the sun rose on an unseasonably warm morning, Grygor also rose. Foregoing clothes as he reached the window in his room, the king looked down upon the changing face of the Rock of the Cluith. Since time immemorial, the natural fortification had been settled. Grygor's ancestors would not recognise it as it was now, that much was certain. The old wooden fort had been replaced by a castle built by the finest Frankish architects, the old halls was now a hardy keep and the pallisades were being reinforced against siege weapons even at this early hour.
The King turned his gaze to the town nestled by the river at the foot of the Rock. In Grygor's childhood, even in the days of the last Harvest Festival, it had been naught but a hamlet. That hamlet had swelled considerably as more and more outlying settlements flocked to it, seeking protection from the Viking raiders which plundered the shores every summer. Even at this early hour, the town was already bustling with activity as the local levies began to muster, practicing as they awaited the rest of the army that was no doubt marching towards Cluith Rock already.
"So you are headed to France?"
The Maid Marion had outlived her husband, the famed Robin de Inglewood, by almost twenty years. Many of the legends around her speak of her seeming ability to grant good fortune to those closely associated with her, yet is cursed to turn good fortune to ill with but a coin flip. Needless to say that her epithets of "Fortune" and "Lady Luck" are no coincidence.
Grygor turned to see that his bedmate had awoken, tilting her head inquisitively as she sat up, keeping the covers above her chest. The King nodded, taking a moment to admire the form of Marion of the Bell. Long gone were the days when the widow of Robin Hood was renowned as the beautiful Maid Marion, but she had certainly aged with a grace like few others. Her hair had gone from ebony to steel and while the marks of age and birthing three children were clear they had yet to lessen her appeal in Grygor's eyes.
"Once the levies arrive, I will be. That will take a few weeks however, so I am hardly in any rush to leave. Especially not with such a sight before me."
"One would think that the King would rather discuss foreign matters with his Council or spend time with his queen than cavort with an old widow." Marion countered with a small frown.
"I have spent more than enough time hearing how a easterners bickering over a wasteland supposedly affects my domain. Besides, Eiliwedd and I have an understanding." Grygor explained, turning back to the window.
The Magyar Clans were one of many steppe confederations that migrated westwards in the 600s. Long residing near the Crimea, Árpády Saul, Khan of the Magyar, rode northwards to the land of the Rus. The scattered tribes that once settled the region were conquered, establishing the Principality of Novgorod to better counter Saul's hated Lithuanian foes.
Marion said nothing, but rose out of bed to join Grygor staring forlornly at the distant horizon. The king glanced her up and down for a moment before going back to the bed, sitting down to don his smallclothes.
"You think this is about Robin, do you not?"
Grygor stopped, awkwardly looking up at Marion. "I... I never implied-"
"I loved Robin." Marion spoke up, cutting Grygor off. "But he was not a good man. He was an outlaw and a braggart, he would have likely betrayed your father had their situations been reversed. In many ways, he was like you."
"Like me? How so?"
"By it's very definition, you are not a good man my lord. And there are many reasons why. The rumours about young Count Morcar's death are the mere tip of the mountain."
Grygor's face reddened as she spoke, he dropped his smallclothes back on the floor and stood, approaching Marion with a hostile glare. "What does Morcar's -accident- have to do with my similarities to your long dead husband?"
Marion looked at him cooly, folding her arms as he drew close enough to glare down at her, towering a good foot above the widow. " I am an old mother and grandmother who still grieves at times for her lost love, but I am not so old and grief-ridden that I have forgotten that I am still a woman." She explained, reaching a hand up to stroke the king's chest. "And for all your faults, you have always made sure to satisfy me as well as yourself whenever we have shared a bed these past two years."
Grygor's anger faded as he felt her touch, and was soon replaced with the same coy smirk that had seduced countless others over his life. "Does that include a continuation of last night?"
Marion nodded, leaning into his embrace. A sharp knock at the door caused the two to break apart, Grygor cursing under his breath as he moved to the door. "What?"
"Apologies for knocking so early sire," came the heavily accented voice of Grygor's Chancellor, the Breton Uipoig, "But I have good news. I have successfully found a connection with which to claim Lindisfarne. Should I convene the council to make plans for an attack after we have sent aid to the Franks?"
For a brief time during the 840s, the Kingdom of Somerset paid tribute to the Franks.
Grygor sighed heavily. "We have discussed this before Uipoig. I am pleased that you have achieved a third of the task I have set out for you, but no plans for invasion are to be made until you have the claims for all of Old Bernicia. Go to Northumberland and get to work on those. I am busy."
"But Si-"
"I SAID I AM BUSY!!" Grygor snapped, listening to the Chancellor's hasty apology before he slunk away. He rubbed his forehead, mind racing with thoughts of what he intended to be his legacy.
Bernicia was the first kingdom to be subjugated by the Anglians, which they came to know as Northumbria. To reclaim that would be not just be an insult to the Anglians, it would be Grygor's crowning achievement. After all, he would likely not live to see Elmet reclaimed. That at least, he could leave to his successors, whoever they may be. He thought little of that however, as Marion took his full attention for the next hour.
_________________________________________________________
30th of August 848, Dol, The Breton Marches
Grygor hefted his axe out of the chest of the spearman he had just felled, hearing a resounding cheer. He looked up in the direction of the fleeing rebels, watching as the closest group of peasants was overwhelmed by the chasing Frankish Knights. One spotted his colours and bodyguards, guiding his horse away from the massacre and dismounting. The knight removed his helm, revealing the grinning face of Theoderic IV.
Grygor's eyebrows rose as he bowed his head in greeting. "King Theoderic, I see you prefer a less open approach to commanding."
The Frank chuckled, leaning on his sword. "I prefer to not have my position blatantly displayed to the whole battlefield. I have not reigned long enough to know that the better part of valour is discretion." He explained, turning his attention to the corpse of the spearman. "Did he give you any trouble?"
Grygor shook his head. "Nothing more than some foolish boy, could not be more than eighteen winters... Waste of potential really."
Theoderic nodded slowly, "Perhaps, he certainly got what he deserved for being disloyal to his rightful liege at any rate."
Grygor did not answer back, merely staring at the blood soaked earth in deep thought. Noting the awkward silence, Theoderic spoke up. "So the rough guess at the casualties is nineteen hundred, less than a quarter of which is ours. Your archers have performed spectacularly yet again."
"As did your knights my friend. Shall we go find your other commanders?" Grygor responded, hefting his father's axe over his shoulder. Theoderic nodded and turned towards the camp, only to stop as a frantic messenger came sprinting towards his Briton counterpart.
The young lad doubled over, panting for breath as he handed a sealed message to Grygor. Breaking it open, the king flitted through the message, recognising the writing of Big Owain. As he finished reading, his face growing beetroot red, Grygor lashed out at a discarded helmet, kicking it with a snarl.
Theoderic opened his mouth, but before he could ask, Grygor turned back to him with a face contorted by rage. "A cult of heretics that have long plagued the lands of my late mother have taken up arms to try and steal it from me. They number far greater than the levies that remained in my homeland."
Theoderic frowned, "You need to withdraw your forces from France."
Grygor turned to give him an apology, but Theoderic shook his head.
"Go my friend, the rebels are on the defense now. I can handle whatever remains of their forces."
____________________________
Christmas Day 848, Outside Mathrafal
It had taken several months for everything to come into place, Grygor's surviving thousand men recovered until they were ready to return at the end of September.
Camped outside Rhos, the King's forces were forced to watch as a two thousand strong army, double their number, sieged Ternyllwg. For three months, the keep at Mathrafal held firm whilst twelve hundred reinforcements marched through Rheged.
And it had finally come to this, as Grygor's thousand charged the rebel lines outside Mathrafal, a horn to the east signalled the charge of the reinforcements, trapping the heretics in a vice.
Like many before them, the heretics were mostly comprised of rambunctious peasantry which almost immediately broke. Only the most zealous core, staunchly loyal to the Heresiarch, stood firm. It was this Heresiarch that now stood before Grygor, sword in hand as he circled for an opening.
"The people of Ternyllwg no longer wish to kiss the boot of a king who is loyal to the Papacy. They will fight to the very death to be free of you. As will I." He stated, audible even above the din of battle before charging, bringing his blade down in a slash that Grygor swiftly dodged.
The old King scoffed, "I could care less about the Pope and your misgivings with him. I am your king and if you refute that then you will die. Surrender so that I can waste time killing you later rather than now."
The Heresiarch did not answer, but kept on the offensive. Again and again, the two traded blows, but none would connect. Grygor smiled to himself. Although he was by far the elder of the duel, with that age came decades of experience, the experience of a man who was renowned across Britannia as one who had never tasted defeat in a duel.
As the tiring Heresiarch made a poor move and felt the bite of Grygor's axe in his gut, he too realised his mistake. The last he heard was the resounding cheer of Briton soldiers and the victorious bellows of The Undefeated.
The bulk of the survivng heretics were the routing peasantry, the core sect of the heretic movement being wiped out bar a few captured survivors which promptly surrendered unconditionally the next day.________________________________________________________________________
The Paramours of Grygor I
Many of the folk tales of Grygor I mention his numerous lovers, but just how many of these are real or mere fabrications is a topic of debate.
The maidservant who gave birth to Grygor's illegitimate firstborn son, more commonly known as Big Owain, has never been properly identified. Perhaps this is due to her low station, as the mother of Sulien, his second bastard was well known as blablabla poor noble bla.
Indeed, the noblewomen that Grygor seduced over his lifetime are viewed much more positively than the unknown number of commoners. The love triangle between Grygor and the Morgannwg sisters, Effros and Sara, for example has been the subject of many a play and book. The same can be said of the relationship that Grygor had with Marion of The Bell or even the tryst he had with Queen Wulfthryth of Northumbria. [1]
For many centuries, the question of why Queen Eiliwedd allowed her husband to continue his numerous affairs went unanswered. Many theories were formed as to why, from Eiliwedd being homosexual to the far-fetched theory that Eiliwedd was infertile and all of Grygor's children with her were in fact illegitimate.
The recent discovery of a letter written by Eiliwedd in 837 to her own secret paramour has put forth the theory that Grygor and Eiliwedd had an open marriage, but such an arrangement would have been highly scandalous at the time had it been public knowledge.
[1]: See Appendix e - The Two Kingdoms of Northumbria for more on the relationship between Grygor I and Wulfthryth.
27th April 847 - Alt Clut
As the sun rose on an unseasonably warm morning, Grygor also rose. Foregoing clothes as he reached the window in his room, the king looked down upon the changing face of the Rock of the Cluith. Since time immemorial, the natural fortification had been settled. Grygor's ancestors would not recognise it as it was now, that much was certain. The old wooden fort had been replaced by a castle built by the finest Frankish architects, the old halls was now a hardy keep and the pallisades were being reinforced against siege weapons even at this early hour.
The King turned his gaze to the town nestled by the river at the foot of the Rock. In Grygor's childhood, even in the days of the last Harvest Festival, it had been naught but a hamlet. That hamlet had swelled considerably as more and more outlying settlements flocked to it, seeking protection from the Viking raiders which plundered the shores every summer. Even at this early hour, the town was already bustling with activity as the local levies began to muster, practicing as they awaited the rest of the army that was no doubt marching towards Cluith Rock already.
"So you are headed to France?"
The Maid Marion had outlived her husband, the famed Robin de Inglewood, by almost twenty years. Many of the legends around her speak of her seeming ability to grant good fortune to those closely associated with her, yet is cursed to turn good fortune to ill with but a coin flip. Needless to say that her epithets of "Fortune" and "Lady Luck" are no coincidence.
Grygor turned to see that his bedmate had awoken, tilting her head inquisitively as she sat up, keeping the covers above her chest. The King nodded, taking a moment to admire the form of Marion of the Bell. Long gone were the days when the widow of Robin Hood was renowned as the beautiful Maid Marion, but she had certainly aged with a grace like few others. Her hair had gone from ebony to steel and while the marks of age and birthing three children were clear they had yet to lessen her appeal in Grygor's eyes.
"Once the levies arrive, I will be. That will take a few weeks however, so I am hardly in any rush to leave. Especially not with such a sight before me."
"One would think that the King would rather discuss foreign matters with his Council or spend time with his queen than cavort with an old widow." Marion countered with a small frown.
"I have spent more than enough time hearing how a easterners bickering over a wasteland supposedly affects my domain. Besides, Eiliwedd and I have an understanding." Grygor explained, turning back to the window.
The Magyar Clans were one of many steppe confederations that migrated westwards in the 600s. Long residing near the Crimea, Árpády Saul, Khan of the Magyar, rode northwards to the land of the Rus. The scattered tribes that once settled the region were conquered, establishing the Principality of Novgorod to better counter Saul's hated Lithuanian foes.
Marion said nothing, but rose out of bed to join Grygor staring forlornly at the distant horizon. The king glanced her up and down for a moment before going back to the bed, sitting down to don his smallclothes.
"You think this is about Robin, do you not?"
Grygor stopped, awkwardly looking up at Marion. "I... I never implied-"
"I loved Robin." Marion spoke up, cutting Grygor off. "But he was not a good man. He was an outlaw and a braggart, he would have likely betrayed your father had their situations been reversed. In many ways, he was like you."
"Like me? How so?"
"By it's very definition, you are not a good man my lord. And there are many reasons why. The rumours about young Count Morcar's death are the mere tip of the mountain."
Grygor's face reddened as she spoke, he dropped his smallclothes back on the floor and stood, approaching Marion with a hostile glare. "What does Morcar's -accident- have to do with my similarities to your long dead husband?"
Marion looked at him cooly, folding her arms as he drew close enough to glare down at her, towering a good foot above the widow. " I am an old mother and grandmother who still grieves at times for her lost love, but I am not so old and grief-ridden that I have forgotten that I am still a woman." She explained, reaching a hand up to stroke the king's chest. "And for all your faults, you have always made sure to satisfy me as well as yourself whenever we have shared a bed these past two years."
Grygor's anger faded as he felt her touch, and was soon replaced with the same coy smirk that had seduced countless others over his life. "Does that include a continuation of last night?"
Marion nodded, leaning into his embrace. A sharp knock at the door caused the two to break apart, Grygor cursing under his breath as he moved to the door. "What?"
"Apologies for knocking so early sire," came the heavily accented voice of Grygor's Chancellor, the Breton Uipoig, "But I have good news. I have successfully found a connection with which to claim Lindisfarne. Should I convene the council to make plans for an attack after we have sent aid to the Franks?"
For a brief time during the 840s, the Kingdom of Somerset paid tribute to the Franks.
Grygor sighed heavily. "We have discussed this before Uipoig. I am pleased that you have achieved a third of the task I have set out for you, but no plans for invasion are to be made until you have the claims for all of Old Bernicia. Go to Northumberland and get to work on those. I am busy."
"But Si-"
"I SAID I AM BUSY!!" Grygor snapped, listening to the Chancellor's hasty apology before he slunk away. He rubbed his forehead, mind racing with thoughts of what he intended to be his legacy.
Bernicia was the first kingdom to be subjugated by the Anglians, which they came to know as Northumbria. To reclaim that would be not just be an insult to the Anglians, it would be Grygor's crowning achievement. After all, he would likely not live to see Elmet reclaimed. That at least, he could leave to his successors, whoever they may be. He thought little of that however, as Marion took his full attention for the next hour.
_________________________________________________________
30th of August 848, Dol, The Breton Marches
Grygor hefted his axe out of the chest of the spearman he had just felled, hearing a resounding cheer. He looked up in the direction of the fleeing rebels, watching as the closest group of peasants was overwhelmed by the chasing Frankish Knights. One spotted his colours and bodyguards, guiding his horse away from the massacre and dismounting. The knight removed his helm, revealing the grinning face of Theoderic IV.
Grygor's eyebrows rose as he bowed his head in greeting. "King Theoderic, I see you prefer a less open approach to commanding."
The Frank chuckled, leaning on his sword. "I prefer to not have my position blatantly displayed to the whole battlefield. I have not reigned long enough to know that the better part of valour is discretion." He explained, turning his attention to the corpse of the spearman. "Did he give you any trouble?"
Grygor shook his head. "Nothing more than some foolish boy, could not be more than eighteen winters... Waste of potential really."
Theoderic nodded slowly, "Perhaps, he certainly got what he deserved for being disloyal to his rightful liege at any rate."
Grygor did not answer back, merely staring at the blood soaked earth in deep thought. Noting the awkward silence, Theoderic spoke up. "So the rough guess at the casualties is nineteen hundred, less than a quarter of which is ours. Your archers have performed spectacularly yet again."
"As did your knights my friend. Shall we go find your other commanders?" Grygor responded, hefting his father's axe over his shoulder. Theoderic nodded and turned towards the camp, only to stop as a frantic messenger came sprinting towards his Briton counterpart.
The young lad doubled over, panting for breath as he handed a sealed message to Grygor. Breaking it open, the king flitted through the message, recognising the writing of Big Owain. As he finished reading, his face growing beetroot red, Grygor lashed out at a discarded helmet, kicking it with a snarl.
Theoderic opened his mouth, but before he could ask, Grygor turned back to him with a face contorted by rage. "A cult of heretics that have long plagued the lands of my late mother have taken up arms to try and steal it from me. They number far greater than the levies that remained in my homeland."
Theoderic frowned, "You need to withdraw your forces from France."
Grygor turned to give him an apology, but Theoderic shook his head.
"Go my friend, the rebels are on the defense now. I can handle whatever remains of their forces."
____________________________
Christmas Day 848, Outside Mathrafal
It had taken several months for everything to come into place, Grygor's surviving thousand men recovered until they were ready to return at the end of September.
Camped outside Rhos, the King's forces were forced to watch as a two thousand strong army, double their number, sieged Ternyllwg. For three months, the keep at Mathrafal held firm whilst twelve hundred reinforcements marched through Rheged.
And it had finally come to this, as Grygor's thousand charged the rebel lines outside Mathrafal, a horn to the east signalled the charge of the reinforcements, trapping the heretics in a vice.
Like many before them, the heretics were mostly comprised of rambunctious peasantry which almost immediately broke. Only the most zealous core, staunchly loyal to the Heresiarch, stood firm. It was this Heresiarch that now stood before Grygor, sword in hand as he circled for an opening.
"The people of Ternyllwg no longer wish to kiss the boot of a king who is loyal to the Papacy. They will fight to the very death to be free of you. As will I." He stated, audible even above the din of battle before charging, bringing his blade down in a slash that Grygor swiftly dodged.
The old King scoffed, "I could care less about the Pope and your misgivings with him. I am your king and if you refute that then you will die. Surrender so that I can waste time killing you later rather than now."
The Heresiarch did not answer, but kept on the offensive. Again and again, the two traded blows, but none would connect. Grygor smiled to himself. Although he was by far the elder of the duel, with that age came decades of experience, the experience of a man who was renowned across Britannia as one who had never tasted defeat in a duel.
As the tiring Heresiarch made a poor move and felt the bite of Grygor's axe in his gut, he too realised his mistake. The last he heard was the resounding cheer of Briton soldiers and the victorious bellows of The Undefeated.
The bulk of the survivng heretics were the routing peasantry, the core sect of the heretic movement being wiped out bar a few captured survivors which promptly surrendered unconditionally the next day.
The Paramours of Grygor I
Many of the folk tales of Grygor I mention his numerous lovers, but just how many of these are real or mere fabrications is a topic of debate.
The maidservant who gave birth to Grygor's illegitimate firstborn son, more commonly known as Big Owain, has never been properly identified. Perhaps this is due to her low station, as the mother of Sulien, his second bastard was well known as blablabla poor noble bla.
Indeed, the noblewomen that Grygor seduced over his lifetime are viewed much more positively than the unknown number of commoners. The love triangle between Grygor and the Morgannwg sisters, Effros and Sara, for example has been the subject of many a play and book. The same can be said of the relationship that Grygor had with Marion of The Bell or even the tryst he had with Queen Wulfthryth of Northumbria. [1]
For many centuries, the question of why Queen Eiliwedd allowed her husband to continue his numerous affairs went unanswered. Many theories were formed as to why, from Eiliwedd being homosexual to the far-fetched theory that Eiliwedd was infertile and all of Grygor's children with her were in fact illegitimate.
The recent discovery of a letter written by Eiliwedd in 837 to her own secret paramour has put forth the theory that Grygor and Eiliwedd had an open marriage, but such an arrangement would have been highly scandalous at the time had it been public knowledge.
[1]: See Appendix e - The Two Kingdoms of Northumbria for more on the relationship between Grygor I and Wulfthryth.
Grygor is quite the image of a Lord of his day. I won't say brutish, for that is not actually true - but harsh and hard, and very much convinced of his own righteousness.
You don't get named "the Undefeated" as a young man without it leaving an inflated ego, that's for sure.
Chapter XIII - Merovingian Twilight (850-855)
Chapter XIII - Merovingian Twilight (850-855)
The years between 850-854 were peaceful for the British Isles, but peace doesn't always mean quiet.
With the heretics defeated, Countess Wulfthryth of Ternyllwg passed away, leaving the county to her firstborn son with Big Owain: Count Arthen Owaining (The family name that Big Owain took upon marrying Wulfthryth).
Arthen was not the only new figure in Wales. Hywel Gwynedd, king of Rhos, had conquered the other kings of the Welsh. In 852, he was crowned as the founding king of Brythoniaid.
In spite of fears for Grygor's Powysian territories, life went on. Until the New Year of 855 at least.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The downfall of the Merovingian dynasty was a long, drawn out affair that lasted a near century. Some historians argue that it was even longer, pointing to the rise of the Mayors and the increasingly powerless figurehead that the kings had become over the 7th and 8th centuries.
The power struggle reached a climax when Pepin Karling, son of Charles Martel, deposed Childeric II as ruler of all Francia. His sons divided the four kingdoms of the Franks between them. West Francia and Aquitaine went to Karl, Middle Francia and Burgundy to Karloman. It was the former who attempted to restore the power of the crown over his vassals, as not to risk the same fate as Childeric. He failed, the dukes and counts had grown used to their independence from a weak crown, and in the early 770s, they came together to restore the last Merovingian to power.
Karl was forced to abdicate his kingdom to Theoderic III, who would regain some authority over his vassals in the years to come, and fled to his brother's lands. A few years later, Karloman was dead and Karl inherited his domain. He never did attempt to reclaim his lost kingdom, but he ensured that Middle Francia and Burgundy would never again come into Merovingian hands.
Theoderic's son and grandson, Childeric III and Theoderic IV, ruled over a weakened kingdom. The authority of the crown, though strengthened, was still poorly regarded as the dukes grappled for influence and control. The Revolt of 847 was only a faint spark compared to the bonfire that would come next.
Theoderic IV in 855
In the year of 850, the final rebels surrendered to a Frankish victory, proving insufficient against Theoderic IV's army and that of his ally, Grygor of Alcluith. Peace returned, although the storm clouds were already gathering once more.
On the 24th of January 855, Pope Stephanus V sent a Papal Bull to Theoderic IV, excommunicating him from the church on behalf of Cardinal Vela.
Two days later, the faction that Cardinal Vela belonged to sent a letter to the king.
"To King Theoderic IV of France,
I, Leubast de Chaumontois, Duchess and rightful Queen of Frisia, write to you on behalf of myself and other supposed vassals of yours.
We hereby declare our independence from the Kingdom of France. We hereby denounce the sons of Merovech as illegitimate rulers of Frisia and Aquitaine, and demand that the crowns of these kingdoms be abdicated by your person effective immediately.
Refusal to agree to our righteous demands will be met with arms. We will no longer submit to Frankish yoke.
[A number of signatures follow.]"
Theoderic refused, and The Cannibal's War begun.
The "Cannibal's War" is what the Independence Revolt of 855 is known as to the staunchly Frankish sources of the time, including that of the Karling held lands.
Theoderic's allies refused to heed his calls for aid, unwilling to rile the Church. All save for Grygor of Alcluith, who gladly came to the aid of his brother-in-law.
For the first half a year, armies were raised and a few skirmishes broke out along the borders of loyalist and rebel vassals. No major battles occured until the 14th of July however, with the Battle of Chateauroux. Five thousand rebels charged four thousand loyalist lines, resulting in a victory, albeit a phyrric one, for Theoderic.
As although Chateauroux was a victory, the rebels still held a numerical advantage. The arrival of Grygor's forces in August removed the advantage, but for several months the rebels and loyalists merely skirmished in outlying villages.
By the 15th of October, as Grygor marched northwards to siege Leubast's holdings, the emboldened rebels struck hard at the loyalist army led by Prince Childeric.
The Battles of Bourges was the deciding battle of the war, not because of the routed loyalist forces, but because Childeric's retinue was overrun and he was captured during the retreat.
Eleven days later, Theoderic IV was dead. Contemporary writing claimed that the King had received news of Childeric's capture and promptly fell over dead from a catastrophic heart attack.
Now the new king, Childeric IV was forced to surrender in exchange for his freedom. The Kingdom of the Franks, the nation that conquered Soissons, the empire that once stretched from Navarra to Bavaria, shattered in an instant.
France itself and the Breton Marches remained under Childeric's control, but the loyalists had lost all faith in him. Within two years, the nobles forced his abdication in favour of his younger brother Raynold. In July of 860, he fell from atop a tower in Vannes and died. The question of whether his death was suicide, accidental or murder has never been answered.
Frisia went to Leubast, along with the vassalage of Flanders. The first Queen of the Lowlands is a highly controversial individual, both in her time and a full millenium later.
Rumours were rife about her parentage, lifestyle, indeed her very sanity. The most pro-Merovingian sources describe her as an insane, grotesque monster that devoured the bones of infants. Frisian folklore, taking heavy influence from neighbouring Asatru nations, portrays her as an unpredictable Giantess trickster.
Duke Tancrad Louping of Aquitaine named himself King, still recovering from a lost eye at his coronation by Cardinal Vela.
Many believe that it was Tancrad who pushed Vela into calling for Theoderic's excommunication, he who set Leubast up as the figurehead for the Independence Faction. Whatever his intentions were, outside factors begun to take note of the weakened kingdoms. Raynold I was still king of France and Brittany, but the sun had finally set on the line of Merovech. Now began the long twilight.
"The Merovingian Twilight" by Dr. Quasim Ordonid, published in 1882
The years between 850-854 were peaceful for the British Isles, but peace doesn't always mean quiet.
With the heretics defeated, Countess Wulfthryth of Ternyllwg passed away, leaving the county to her firstborn son with Big Owain: Count Arthen Owaining (The family name that Big Owain took upon marrying Wulfthryth).
Arthen was not the only new figure in Wales. Hywel Gwynedd, king of Rhos, had conquered the other kings of the Welsh. In 852, he was crowned as the founding king of Brythoniaid.
In spite of fears for Grygor's Powysian territories, life went on. Until the New Year of 855 at least.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The downfall of the Merovingian dynasty was a long, drawn out affair that lasted a near century. Some historians argue that it was even longer, pointing to the rise of the Mayors and the increasingly powerless figurehead that the kings had become over the 7th and 8th centuries.
The power struggle reached a climax when Pepin Karling, son of Charles Martel, deposed Childeric II as ruler of all Francia. His sons divided the four kingdoms of the Franks between them. West Francia and Aquitaine went to Karl, Middle Francia and Burgundy to Karloman. It was the former who attempted to restore the power of the crown over his vassals, as not to risk the same fate as Childeric. He failed, the dukes and counts had grown used to their independence from a weak crown, and in the early 770s, they came together to restore the last Merovingian to power.
Karl was forced to abdicate his kingdom to Theoderic III, who would regain some authority over his vassals in the years to come, and fled to his brother's lands. A few years later, Karloman was dead and Karl inherited his domain. He never did attempt to reclaim his lost kingdom, but he ensured that Middle Francia and Burgundy would never again come into Merovingian hands.
Theoderic's son and grandson, Childeric III and Theoderic IV, ruled over a weakened kingdom. The authority of the crown, though strengthened, was still poorly regarded as the dukes grappled for influence and control. The Revolt of 847 was only a faint spark compared to the bonfire that would come next.
Theoderic IV in 855
In the year of 850, the final rebels surrendered to a Frankish victory, proving insufficient against Theoderic IV's army and that of his ally, Grygor of Alcluith. Peace returned, although the storm clouds were already gathering once more.
On the 24th of January 855, Pope Stephanus V sent a Papal Bull to Theoderic IV, excommunicating him from the church on behalf of Cardinal Vela.
Two days later, the faction that Cardinal Vela belonged to sent a letter to the king.
"To King Theoderic IV of France,
I, Leubast de Chaumontois, Duchess and rightful Queen of Frisia, write to you on behalf of myself and other supposed vassals of yours.
We hereby declare our independence from the Kingdom of France. We hereby denounce the sons of Merovech as illegitimate rulers of Frisia and Aquitaine, and demand that the crowns of these kingdoms be abdicated by your person effective immediately.
Refusal to agree to our righteous demands will be met with arms. We will no longer submit to Frankish yoke.
[A number of signatures follow.]"
Theoderic refused, and The Cannibal's War begun.
The "Cannibal's War" is what the Independence Revolt of 855 is known as to the staunchly Frankish sources of the time, including that of the Karling held lands.
Theoderic's allies refused to heed his calls for aid, unwilling to rile the Church. All save for Grygor of Alcluith, who gladly came to the aid of his brother-in-law.
For the first half a year, armies were raised and a few skirmishes broke out along the borders of loyalist and rebel vassals. No major battles occured until the 14th of July however, with the Battle of Chateauroux. Five thousand rebels charged four thousand loyalist lines, resulting in a victory, albeit a phyrric one, for Theoderic.
As although Chateauroux was a victory, the rebels still held a numerical advantage. The arrival of Grygor's forces in August removed the advantage, but for several months the rebels and loyalists merely skirmished in outlying villages.
By the 15th of October, as Grygor marched northwards to siege Leubast's holdings, the emboldened rebels struck hard at the loyalist army led by Prince Childeric.
The Battles of Bourges was the deciding battle of the war, not because of the routed loyalist forces, but because Childeric's retinue was overrun and he was captured during the retreat.
Eleven days later, Theoderic IV was dead. Contemporary writing claimed that the King had received news of Childeric's capture and promptly fell over dead from a catastrophic heart attack.
Now the new king, Childeric IV was forced to surrender in exchange for his freedom. The Kingdom of the Franks, the nation that conquered Soissons, the empire that once stretched from Navarra to Bavaria, shattered in an instant.
France itself and the Breton Marches remained under Childeric's control, but the loyalists had lost all faith in him. Within two years, the nobles forced his abdication in favour of his younger brother Raynold. In July of 860, he fell from atop a tower in Vannes and died. The question of whether his death was suicide, accidental or murder has never been answered.
Frisia went to Leubast, along with the vassalage of Flanders. The first Queen of the Lowlands is a highly controversial individual, both in her time and a full millenium later.
Rumours were rife about her parentage, lifestyle, indeed her very sanity. The most pro-Merovingian sources describe her as an insane, grotesque monster that devoured the bones of infants. Frisian folklore, taking heavy influence from neighbouring Asatru nations, portrays her as an unpredictable Giantess trickster.
Duke Tancrad Louping of Aquitaine named himself King, still recovering from a lost eye at his coronation by Cardinal Vela.
Many believe that it was Tancrad who pushed Vela into calling for Theoderic's excommunication, he who set Leubast up as the figurehead for the Independence Faction. Whatever his intentions were, outside factors begun to take note of the weakened kingdoms. Raynold I was still king of France and Brittany, but the sun had finally set on the line of Merovech. Now began the long twilight.
"The Merovingian Twilight" by Dr. Quasim Ordonid, published in 1882
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Chapter XIV - Undefeatable (855-863)
Chapter XIV - Undefeatable (855-863)
It is said that history repeats itself time and time again, and the fate of Grygor "The Undefeated" is testament to this.
In January of 857, Grygor's plans were going awry. The outright crippling of his Frankish ally had left him with no aid against any possible threats or for his designs on Northumbria. Making the latter worse was the Northumbrians waning defence against a Norse invasion.
With no claim on Durham in sight and the possibility of losing his chance to the Norse, Grygor met with Queen Wulfthryth to negotiate a non-aggression pact and military aid. Grygor was no longer the boisterous womanizer of his youth, in spite of several continued affairs, and Wulfthryth was a decade older than he was.
But his own brand of diplomacy still worked well enough.
Of the invasion of Northumbria, little can be said. The Jarl of Vestlandet was defeated by Grygor at the Battle of Settle in April and with his armies crushed, was forced to sign an armistice.
Indeed Grygor barely paid the Norse any heed. He was more focused on an ill thought out assassination plot against Little Owain. The architect would have been immediately exposed and arrested, had it not been his youngest brother.
At his wedding to Viviana Isauros, daughter of Basileus Gennadios 'the Hollow', Neithon was pulled aside by his father who convinced him to relent. He never plotted against his brothers again, for the rest of Grygor's reign at least.
In May, Dyre of Hlymrek attacked the barely recovering Northumbrians. He intended to strengthen his hold on the Irish Sea by taking Lancaster, Northumbria's only county on the west coast. This time however, no aid came from Alt Clut. Grygor remained staunchly neutral, ignoring all messages from Queen Wulfthryth.
It is widely believed that her death on New Year's Day 858 was from a broken heart, guilt ridden and betrayed as she was. Ecfrida, the new Queen, was the daughter of Wulfthryth and Grygor's brother Owain. Though she may have wished to keep the peace between their nations, she likely knew that Grygor had kept his designs from her mother.
Less than two weeks after Wulfthryth's death, Chancellor Uipoig returned to The Rock with the final claim that Grygor needed, that of Durham.
He declared war almost immediately.
The Reclamation of Bernicia has gone down as the most uneventful part of the Restoration of the Old North. Northumbria, already crippled from Dyre's invasion, offered little to no resistance against the Britons. The only recorded fighting was at the siege of Bamburgh in May 858 and Durham in December 859.
In May of 860, Ecfrida was forced to relinquish Lancaster to Hlymrek. The Norse victory made Grygor uneasy, now that they shared a physical border.
For all of Dyre's power however, he was highly unpopular amongst his Anglian subjects. The Danelaw, as they called it, was a hotbed for sedition. Thus, Grygor discreetly financed a rebellion in the Danelaw, planning to weaken the Norse hold on Britain as much as he could.
This rebellion lasted until December of 862, when they were crushed at the Battle of the Kennet.
Grygor's own war lasted until the following April, when Ecfrida finally surrendered. Bernicia was finally in Briton hands, although Ecfrida managed to keep ahold of Deira for the time being.
For the next year and a half, the kingdom was at peace. The only disruption was the funeral of the Maid Marion, who in July of 860, passed away in her sleep at the age of 71, fourty two years after her husband's death.
Grygor's demeanour seemed to change following Marion's death. He reconnected with Eiliwedd, who taught him to finally control his anger. He became much more lax however, even growing immensely overweight as he continued to eat and eat.
It was not until the failure of the Anglian rebellion that military matters again took over Grygor's life. Searching for a new way to subvert Dyre, he came to the aid of King Niall of Ulaidh.
The Irish king was one of the few rulers in Ireland that still resisted the Norse dominion, attacking Hlymrek to force them out of Tyrconnell. Grygor's aid was greatly welcome, as Niall was not the only combatant that accepted foreign aid.
The Fylkirate was not the massive hegemony that it was at the turn of the century, but it was still proud bastion for all Asatru. Again and again they had come to aid any believers facing persecution from the followers of Christ.
As the Britons travelled across the sea, the Irish were set upon outside of neutral Cill Dara. They retreated north, meeting with Grygor's reinforcements at Con Doire. With little time until the Asatru followers were upon them, the defenders braced for a difficult battle.
Although history is said to repeat, the smallest changes make these repetitions vastly different as a whole. A likely victory can easily be a likely defeat the second time around, one leader may survive what killed another in exactly the same circumstances.
At the battle of Con Doire, three thousand Britons stood side by side with weary Irishmen, led by a grizzled old man, veteran of many a campaign.
At the Battle of Guendoleu, fifty four years prior, three thousand Britons stood alone, led by a grizzled old man, veteran of many a campaign.
Battle is made, and as the first arrows fly, the king collapses, clutching his chest. But herein lies the divergence. Old King Owain survived his heart attack, although the resulting pneumonia claimed his life months later. Grygor the Undefeated, finally defeated by his own worst enemy, was dead as soon as he hit the floor.
Panic erupts, the day is lost and the survivors take Grygor's body off of the field, quietly escorting him back across the sea to his homeland.
For the electors of the kingdom, counts and bishop alike, it was now time to nominate a new Tanist. Traditionally, the firstborn son would be nominated by the king before his death, said heir becoming King should enough electors support him. While by right, any member of the family could be elected as king, this practice rarely came into place as the firstborn was usually competent enough to keep their position firm.
But Grygor never nominated his firstborn, Little Owain, nor any of his family. None of his sons were showed favouritism over the others, nor were siblings and cousins. So the electors convened at the Rock, debating for nearly two weeks to decide upon a successor.
Succession was reduced to the three legitimate brothers within the first week. By the ninth day, Little Owain was ruled out. He was now in his mid-30s, gluttonous and paranoid, yet kind and honest. Many electors considered him an inferior copy of his father, completely average in all respects. Compunding that was his lack of a son. Owain had fathered three daughters with Morien de Inglewood, the eldest Morrigan was a woman grown. But the only son birthed to the couple was a sickly infant who died after a few days, an ill omen to be sure.
And so the next five days were spent debating over who to pick between the other brothers.
Caradog was a tall, handsome man, well versed in diplomatic affairs. It was he who frequently visited foreign courts, working alongside the Chancellor on several occasions.
But many rumours circulated about his arbitrary ways, which could be pointlessly cruel at times. Some electors also believed that his visits had ulterior motives, and so they were very wary of him becoming King.
So it came to the third son. Neithon, to define his overall character, was brilliant but lazy. He too received a diplomatic upbringing, although he rarely left his homeland. He too certainly had designs on his claim. But Neithon was subtle, manipulative, his enemies could be coerced into becoming friends and his friends had his loyalty. Furthermore he had studied economics, which put him in favour with the mayors. The bishops too were highly supportive of his learned interests. This was what led to his election as Tanist.
And so Neithon II ascended the throne, in spite of the silent fuming of his elder brothers. Whether they would have their time however, was still undecided.
It is said that history repeats itself time and time again, and the fate of Grygor "The Undefeated" is testament to this.
In January of 857, Grygor's plans were going awry. The outright crippling of his Frankish ally had left him with no aid against any possible threats or for his designs on Northumbria. Making the latter worse was the Northumbrians waning defence against a Norse invasion.
With no claim on Durham in sight and the possibility of losing his chance to the Norse, Grygor met with Queen Wulfthryth to negotiate a non-aggression pact and military aid. Grygor was no longer the boisterous womanizer of his youth, in spite of several continued affairs, and Wulfthryth was a decade older than he was.
But his own brand of diplomacy still worked well enough.
Of the invasion of Northumbria, little can be said. The Jarl of Vestlandet was defeated by Grygor at the Battle of Settle in April and with his armies crushed, was forced to sign an armistice.
Indeed Grygor barely paid the Norse any heed. He was more focused on an ill thought out assassination plot against Little Owain. The architect would have been immediately exposed and arrested, had it not been his youngest brother.
At his wedding to Viviana Isauros, daughter of Basileus Gennadios 'the Hollow', Neithon was pulled aside by his father who convinced him to relent. He never plotted against his brothers again, for the rest of Grygor's reign at least.
In May, Dyre of Hlymrek attacked the barely recovering Northumbrians. He intended to strengthen his hold on the Irish Sea by taking Lancaster, Northumbria's only county on the west coast. This time however, no aid came from Alt Clut. Grygor remained staunchly neutral, ignoring all messages from Queen Wulfthryth.
It is widely believed that her death on New Year's Day 858 was from a broken heart, guilt ridden and betrayed as she was. Ecfrida, the new Queen, was the daughter of Wulfthryth and Grygor's brother Owain. Though she may have wished to keep the peace between their nations, she likely knew that Grygor had kept his designs from her mother.
Less than two weeks after Wulfthryth's death, Chancellor Uipoig returned to The Rock with the final claim that Grygor needed, that of Durham.
He declared war almost immediately.
The Reclamation of Bernicia has gone down as the most uneventful part of the Restoration of the Old North. Northumbria, already crippled from Dyre's invasion, offered little to no resistance against the Britons. The only recorded fighting was at the siege of Bamburgh in May 858 and Durham in December 859.
In May of 860, Ecfrida was forced to relinquish Lancaster to Hlymrek. The Norse victory made Grygor uneasy, now that they shared a physical border.
For all of Dyre's power however, he was highly unpopular amongst his Anglian subjects. The Danelaw, as they called it, was a hotbed for sedition. Thus, Grygor discreetly financed a rebellion in the Danelaw, planning to weaken the Norse hold on Britain as much as he could.
This rebellion lasted until December of 862, when they were crushed at the Battle of the Kennet.
Grygor's own war lasted until the following April, when Ecfrida finally surrendered. Bernicia was finally in Briton hands, although Ecfrida managed to keep ahold of Deira for the time being.
For the next year and a half, the kingdom was at peace. The only disruption was the funeral of the Maid Marion, who in July of 860, passed away in her sleep at the age of 71, fourty two years after her husband's death.
Grygor's demeanour seemed to change following Marion's death. He reconnected with Eiliwedd, who taught him to finally control his anger. He became much more lax however, even growing immensely overweight as he continued to eat and eat.
It was not until the failure of the Anglian rebellion that military matters again took over Grygor's life. Searching for a new way to subvert Dyre, he came to the aid of King Niall of Ulaidh.
The Irish king was one of the few rulers in Ireland that still resisted the Norse dominion, attacking Hlymrek to force them out of Tyrconnell. Grygor's aid was greatly welcome, as Niall was not the only combatant that accepted foreign aid.
The Fylkirate was not the massive hegemony that it was at the turn of the century, but it was still proud bastion for all Asatru. Again and again they had come to aid any believers facing persecution from the followers of Christ.
As the Britons travelled across the sea, the Irish were set upon outside of neutral Cill Dara. They retreated north, meeting with Grygor's reinforcements at Con Doire. With little time until the Asatru followers were upon them, the defenders braced for a difficult battle.
Although history is said to repeat, the smallest changes make these repetitions vastly different as a whole. A likely victory can easily be a likely defeat the second time around, one leader may survive what killed another in exactly the same circumstances.
At the battle of Con Doire, three thousand Britons stood side by side with weary Irishmen, led by a grizzled old man, veteran of many a campaign.
At the Battle of Guendoleu, fifty four years prior, three thousand Britons stood alone, led by a grizzled old man, veteran of many a campaign.
Battle is made, and as the first arrows fly, the king collapses, clutching his chest. But herein lies the divergence. Old King Owain survived his heart attack, although the resulting pneumonia claimed his life months later. Grygor the Undefeated, finally defeated by his own worst enemy, was dead as soon as he hit the floor.
Panic erupts, the day is lost and the survivors take Grygor's body off of the field, quietly escorting him back across the sea to his homeland.
For the electors of the kingdom, counts and bishop alike, it was now time to nominate a new Tanist. Traditionally, the firstborn son would be nominated by the king before his death, said heir becoming King should enough electors support him. While by right, any member of the family could be elected as king, this practice rarely came into place as the firstborn was usually competent enough to keep their position firm.
But Grygor never nominated his firstborn, Little Owain, nor any of his family. None of his sons were showed favouritism over the others, nor were siblings and cousins. So the electors convened at the Rock, debating for nearly two weeks to decide upon a successor.
Succession was reduced to the three legitimate brothers within the first week. By the ninth day, Little Owain was ruled out. He was now in his mid-30s, gluttonous and paranoid, yet kind and honest. Many electors considered him an inferior copy of his father, completely average in all respects. Compunding that was his lack of a son. Owain had fathered three daughters with Morien de Inglewood, the eldest Morrigan was a woman grown. But the only son birthed to the couple was a sickly infant who died after a few days, an ill omen to be sure.
And so the next five days were spent debating over who to pick between the other brothers.
Caradog was a tall, handsome man, well versed in diplomatic affairs. It was he who frequently visited foreign courts, working alongside the Chancellor on several occasions.
But many rumours circulated about his arbitrary ways, which could be pointlessly cruel at times. Some electors also believed that his visits had ulterior motives, and so they were very wary of him becoming King.
So it came to the third son. Neithon, to define his overall character, was brilliant but lazy. He too received a diplomatic upbringing, although he rarely left his homeland. He too certainly had designs on his claim. But Neithon was subtle, manipulative, his enemies could be coerced into becoming friends and his friends had his loyalty. Furthermore he had studied economics, which put him in favour with the mayors. The bishops too were highly supportive of his learned interests. This was what led to his election as Tanist.
And so Neithon II ascended the throne, in spite of the silent fuming of his elder brothers. Whether they would have their time however, was still undecided.
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Will the cycle of fratricide continue? It seems likely; after all, Neithon himself gave it a whirl while Grygor yet lived. And now his two brothers feel supplanted. A kingdom on the rise, but a cursed dynasty at its head... can't wait to see where this goes!
Chapter XV - Oathbreaker Part I (863-865)
Chapter XV - Oathbreaker Part I (863-865)
Neithon II, like Caradog I before him, inherited a nation at war. That however was the sole simiarity between grandfather and grandson.
Neithon II and his domain in the year of his ascension to the throne (C.E. 863)
A defeat for Ulaidh would have personally meant little to his kingdom, so Neithon quietly stayed out of the war, merely waiting until King Niall surrendered.
By the time that Ulaidh did so in September, Neithon was completely detached from Irish affairs, instead being on the arrival of a one eyed wanderer.
Hincomhal the Wise is a figure shrouded in mystery, a travelling wise man and healer who appears in multiple records throughout the first half of the 9th Century. These records reveal the extent of Hincomhal's travels and allow modern historians to track his progress. From healing the sick daughter of the Duke of Anjou (837), the Sultan of Egypt (844), holding theological debates in Constantinople (849) to even a theorised mention of him as an avatar of Odin by a superstitious Godi in Agder (854). The most detailed segment of his history is the five years he spent as physician and chaplain in the court of Neithon II, from his arrival in September 863 to his sudden departure to Ireland in December 868, during which he kept a storied journal of daily events.
It is from this journal, kept within the Institute of Medicine in Ioffreau (dedicated to Hincomhal at it's opening in 1521), that we have a first-hand account of the Oathbreaker Crisis.
_____________________________________________________________________________
January 6th, 864
Éamonn mac Carthaigh, Neithon's childhood friend, was granted the counties that formed Old Bernicia at a feast today.
Shamefully, the Breton chieftain Samson of Eppidant caused an altercation with the king, demanding that Neithon grant the council more powers over the realm. The council that he is not part of. The king refused, but Samson called upon the aid of Neithon's cousin Count Arthen as well as Count Cwrig de Inglewood.
It appears that Samson and his fellows have formed a faction, threatening repercussions if the King refused, which he did once again.
Count Cwrig seemed very remorseful as he followed the others out of the hall.
Treated a head injury on one of Count Cairell's retainers after a small brawl broke out.
March 30th, 864
War has indeed broken out, Chief Samson took up arms against the king and his fellows Arthen and Cwrig followed suit. Some within the court are naming the latter as an oathbreaker, but I saw the expression upon the man's face in January. It seems as if he had little choice but to join in.
My duties as Chaplain have been suspended as I am to follow the King's army as physician. Saw my first battle in almost a decade as a result, a small skirmish outside of Burgh.
Loyalist losses were a mere two score and four, a quarter of the rebels losses. Treated several wounded and amputated one soldier's right hand, he will likely live.
May 18th, 864
A battle outside Guendoleu has taken a turn for the worse. It appeared to be in the King's favour when his sixteen hundred charged the thousand strong rebels, but it was a mere trap as another thousand emerged from a nearby forest and attempted to trap the loyalists.
We were able to escape with only minor losses, but with numerical superiority in the hands of the rebels, the commanders appear uneasy.
News from The Rock was more positive, Queen Viviana is pregnant with her second child. I asked if I should return to tend to her needs, but by the King's order I am to remain with the army, lest Viviana face unforeseen difficulties.
October 10th 864
The rebel stronghold of Argyll has surrendered to us, although Durham has seemingly fallen to the rebels in kind. It appears we are in deadlock.
The king has asked me to return to Cluith Rock as the Queen nears the end of her pregnancy.
December 15th 864
Queen Viviana has given birth to a son. Under regular circumstance, this would be a thing to celebrate. But the child is weak and sickly, he will likely not see Midsummer without great aid. Fortunate that I am here, at least. I shall do whatever I can to save the boy.
January 6th 865
After a near month of tender care, Neithon's son appears to have passed through the worst of his ailment. He has improved so much that I am told Neithon has already chosen him as Tanist, giving him the name of Custennin.
Whether he lives to inherit the kingdom is in the hand of the Powers That Be.
March 21st 865
I returned to my service with the army to find the aftermath of a close victory at Newcastle. Twenty one hundred rebels against fifteen hundred of the King's men. It is a small miracle that only a third of the dead were loyalists.
The narrow victory has made it more clear to all of us that this war is far from over. With no allies and wavering morale, much will need to be done.
June 9th 865
King Neithon's brother Owain has fathered twins, born last month. A girl and a boy they are, Eiliwedd and Edern respectively.
Their birth was overshadowed by the death of the Norse king Dyre, clutching at his heart during a raid on Frankish Brittany.
His followers quickly raised a six year old boy as king, as Dyre had male heir, but for a few weeks there have been rumours of discontent in the Danelaw. And it seems those rumours have come to pass.
As far as the Council is aware, the old Anglian lords have mostly regained their kingdoms and established a new Pentarchy of Mercia, Deira, Hwicce, Wessex and Somerset. One of the Norse Jarls has also kept a foothold on Essex. Whether this new Pentarchy will last with the Saxons occupying Anglia is another question entirely however.
The end of the First Danelaw and the beginning of the Anglian Pentarchy. Over the next three decades, Hwicce and Wessex would fall into Mercian hands, while the Saxon Fylkirate would maintain it's stranglehold on East Anglia and Kent.
June 20th 865
It appears that the Picts have thrown their lot into this war, declaring their intent to seize Eppidant from Samson. While that would likely stop the revolt in it's tracks with Samson landless, the Council has come to the conclusion that no peace is worth surrendering land to the Picts. Thus we now must fight on two fronts.
July 29th 865
News from the Mediterranean, it seems that Burgundy has changed hands yet again. First the Norse Falks conquered it from the Karlings and now the current king Fredrik has lost his throne to the Muzaffaraddin Caliphate, the new realm that has supplanted the Umayyads in Iberia. Nothing good can come of the Shi'a expansion, that much is certain.
Fredrik Falk, former King of Burgundy. The Falk dynasty first seized Burgundy due to the efforts of Ottarr the Conquerer (reigned 824-828). Fredrik had only succeeded his father Egill (reigned 828-862) recently when the Muzaffaraddin invaded, the relative isolation of his kingdom from other Asatru nations meant that no aid arrived in time to stop the loss of his realm. Fredrik would return to Lolland, the island that Ottarr grew up on, and would perish there in the year 905.
Neithon II, like Caradog I before him, inherited a nation at war. That however was the sole simiarity between grandfather and grandson.
Neithon II and his domain in the year of his ascension to the throne (C.E. 863)
A defeat for Ulaidh would have personally meant little to his kingdom, so Neithon quietly stayed out of the war, merely waiting until King Niall surrendered.
By the time that Ulaidh did so in September, Neithon was completely detached from Irish affairs, instead being on the arrival of a one eyed wanderer.
Hincomhal the Wise is a figure shrouded in mystery, a travelling wise man and healer who appears in multiple records throughout the first half of the 9th Century. These records reveal the extent of Hincomhal's travels and allow modern historians to track his progress. From healing the sick daughter of the Duke of Anjou (837), the Sultan of Egypt (844), holding theological debates in Constantinople (849) to even a theorised mention of him as an avatar of Odin by a superstitious Godi in Agder (854). The most detailed segment of his history is the five years he spent as physician and chaplain in the court of Neithon II, from his arrival in September 863 to his sudden departure to Ireland in December 868, during which he kept a storied journal of daily events.
It is from this journal, kept within the Institute of Medicine in Ioffreau (dedicated to Hincomhal at it's opening in 1521), that we have a first-hand account of the Oathbreaker Crisis.
_____________________________________________________________________________
January 6th, 864
Éamonn mac Carthaigh, Neithon's childhood friend, was granted the counties that formed Old Bernicia at a feast today.
Shamefully, the Breton chieftain Samson of Eppidant caused an altercation with the king, demanding that Neithon grant the council more powers over the realm. The council that he is not part of. The king refused, but Samson called upon the aid of Neithon's cousin Count Arthen as well as Count Cwrig de Inglewood.
It appears that Samson and his fellows have formed a faction, threatening repercussions if the King refused, which he did once again.
Count Cwrig seemed very remorseful as he followed the others out of the hall.
Treated a head injury on one of Count Cairell's retainers after a small brawl broke out.
March 30th, 864
War has indeed broken out, Chief Samson took up arms against the king and his fellows Arthen and Cwrig followed suit. Some within the court are naming the latter as an oathbreaker, but I saw the expression upon the man's face in January. It seems as if he had little choice but to join in.
My duties as Chaplain have been suspended as I am to follow the King's army as physician. Saw my first battle in almost a decade as a result, a small skirmish outside of Burgh.
Loyalist losses were a mere two score and four, a quarter of the rebels losses. Treated several wounded and amputated one soldier's right hand, he will likely live.
May 18th, 864
A battle outside Guendoleu has taken a turn for the worse. It appeared to be in the King's favour when his sixteen hundred charged the thousand strong rebels, but it was a mere trap as another thousand emerged from a nearby forest and attempted to trap the loyalists.
We were able to escape with only minor losses, but with numerical superiority in the hands of the rebels, the commanders appear uneasy.
News from The Rock was more positive, Queen Viviana is pregnant with her second child. I asked if I should return to tend to her needs, but by the King's order I am to remain with the army, lest Viviana face unforeseen difficulties.
October 10th 864
The rebel stronghold of Argyll has surrendered to us, although Durham has seemingly fallen to the rebels in kind. It appears we are in deadlock.
The king has asked me to return to Cluith Rock as the Queen nears the end of her pregnancy.
December 15th 864
Queen Viviana has given birth to a son. Under regular circumstance, this would be a thing to celebrate. But the child is weak and sickly, he will likely not see Midsummer without great aid. Fortunate that I am here, at least. I shall do whatever I can to save the boy.
January 6th 865
After a near month of tender care, Neithon's son appears to have passed through the worst of his ailment. He has improved so much that I am told Neithon has already chosen him as Tanist, giving him the name of Custennin.
Whether he lives to inherit the kingdom is in the hand of the Powers That Be.
March 21st 865
I returned to my service with the army to find the aftermath of a close victory at Newcastle. Twenty one hundred rebels against fifteen hundred of the King's men. It is a small miracle that only a third of the dead were loyalists.
The narrow victory has made it more clear to all of us that this war is far from over. With no allies and wavering morale, much will need to be done.
June 9th 865
King Neithon's brother Owain has fathered twins, born last month. A girl and a boy they are, Eiliwedd and Edern respectively.
Their birth was overshadowed by the death of the Norse king Dyre, clutching at his heart during a raid on Frankish Brittany.
His followers quickly raised a six year old boy as king, as Dyre had male heir, but for a few weeks there have been rumours of discontent in the Danelaw. And it seems those rumours have come to pass.
As far as the Council is aware, the old Anglian lords have mostly regained their kingdoms and established a new Pentarchy of Mercia, Deira, Hwicce, Wessex and Somerset. One of the Norse Jarls has also kept a foothold on Essex. Whether this new Pentarchy will last with the Saxons occupying Anglia is another question entirely however.
The end of the First Danelaw and the beginning of the Anglian Pentarchy. Over the next three decades, Hwicce and Wessex would fall into Mercian hands, while the Saxon Fylkirate would maintain it's stranglehold on East Anglia and Kent.
June 20th 865
It appears that the Picts have thrown their lot into this war, declaring their intent to seize Eppidant from Samson. While that would likely stop the revolt in it's tracks with Samson landless, the Council has come to the conclusion that no peace is worth surrendering land to the Picts. Thus we now must fight on two fronts.
July 29th 865
News from the Mediterranean, it seems that Burgundy has changed hands yet again. First the Norse Falks conquered it from the Karlings and now the current king Fredrik has lost his throne to the Muzaffaraddin Caliphate, the new realm that has supplanted the Umayyads in Iberia. Nothing good can come of the Shi'a expansion, that much is certain.
Fredrik Falk, former King of Burgundy. The Falk dynasty first seized Burgundy due to the efforts of Ottarr the Conquerer (reigned 824-828). Fredrik had only succeeded his father Egill (reigned 828-862) recently when the Muzaffaraddin invaded, the relative isolation of his kingdom from other Asatru nations meant that no aid arrived in time to stop the loss of his realm. Fredrik would return to Lolland, the island that Ottarr grew up on, and would perish there in the year 905.
Apologies again for the long gaps between chapters. Suffice to say that the Christmas season has been ridiculously busy, and while I've managed to write the next five (this one included), I've had no time to deal with the screenshots and get the entire thing uploaded. The bright side is that I've finally bought a new laptop, and I've managed to get my save working so the AAR is continuing without a doubt.
Luckily for me, not only does CK2 play MUCH better on the new laptop, but I've played through to the start of the 1100s so that if something happens again, I've at least got a good 200+ years of material. I'll be uploading chapters 16-20 over the next couple of weeks up 'til Christmas and once my workload decreases, I'll try to get a chapter or two posted every week.
Luckily for me, not only does CK2 play MUCH better on the new laptop, but I've played through to the start of the 1100s so that if something happens again, I've at least got a good 200+ years of material. I'll be uploading chapters 16-20 over the next couple of weeks up 'til Christmas and once my workload decreases, I'll try to get a chapter or two posted every week.
Umayyads in Burgundy. Are France/Aquitaine/Germany/Italy et al. in any position to resist, or will Islam snowball further into Europe?
Chapter XVI – Oathbreaker Pt II (865-868)
Chapter XVI – Oathbreaker Pt II (865-868)
The continued journal of Hincomhal 'the Wise', Court Chaplain and Physician over 863-868
September 14th 865
It appears our luck has turned. Hektorios, Doux of Sicily, brother of Queen Viviana and husband to the King's sister Annest has offered his support with the revolting lords and the Picts. The Doux told us it will likely not be until the spring that Greek soldiers will arrive, but he gave his word on the memory of his father, the late Emperor Gennadios that they will come.
Doux Hektorios II of Sicily, son of Emperor Gennadios the Hollow. Hektorios would later become Emperor of the Romans in his own right.
December 21st 865
The Picts continue to be a thorn in our side, having defeated the garrison we had in place at Eppidant. The threat they pose has given the rebels a reprieve, allowing them to take Bamburgh. Little can be done until Hektorios arrives, but plans are being made to waylay the Picts at the very least.
April 10th 866
It seems God smiles upon us. The Picts were bested at Dul Blaan last month, and now the Greeks have arrived five thousand strong. Neithon and Doux Hektorios now march on Newcastle, where the rebels are currently sieging.
May 21st 866
Samson's rebels were utterly decimated outside of Newcastle, barely escaping with five hundred, whereas the only casualties on the loyalist side were a mere score of Greek and Britons combined. The remaining rebels have fled to Westmorland, but it seems scouts on the Pictish border have reported that Queen Maelmurie is mustering her remaining levies to assault the Cumbrian highlands. We now move to intercept them at Guendoleu.
August 5th 866
It seems that one of the High Chiefs of the Picts faced King Neithon on the battlefield at Guendoleu. I was not witness to it myself, but the camp is rife with stories of how the king severed the chieftain's head with a single blow from the ax of his grandfather.
Regardless of how true the tales are, the camp is in high spirits after the Picts were forced to retreat. The rebels lack the numbers to assault our holdings or even liberate those that are held. This war may well end by the New Year.
January 17th 867
My prediction was off by a month, but the revolt has ended. What remained of the rebel levies were slain to a man outside of Mailrhosan. I cannot say I am proud to have borne witness to such slaughter.
It was later that evening when a party flying the banner of Count Cwrig arrived at the camp, having been absent from the battle. He had come to offer the unconditional surrender of the revolting lords. With him were Chief Samson and Count Arthen, bound and gagged.
As it transpires, Cwrig was blackmailed into joining Samson's faction. He had long disapproved of the intent of the Breton, but was unable to back out before the war begun. He knelt there before the King, professing his wish to atone for breaking his oath and offering himself up to Neithon's judgement. I cannot claim that I know the man well, but he seemed much wearier, gaunt. He does not have long for this world it seems... The karkinos perhaps?
Regardless, the King has passed judgement upon the rebel lords. Arthen Owaining is to be stripped of his title, which will be passed to his brother Grygor, and banished from the kingdom on pain of death.
Count Cwrig shall keep his titles and regain his seat on the Council as it's Steward. However he is to pay reparations for the damages caused to the kingdom and his grandchildren are to be tutored at The Rock as hostages.
Samson Breizh was also stripped of all titles, to be imprisoned for the rest of his life. The former chieftain protested, claiming the sentence was unjust. Neithon shook his head, stating "If it was unjust, you would be gelded, hung, drawn and quartered, as would your children. If anything, traitor, this is mercy."
May 14th 867
King Neithon has come to me complaining of a lack of sleep following the end of the war, I have noticed such myself. The king appears to be suffering from the sort of stress one sees in many a veteran. The harshness of war has a tendency to grind many a man to the core after all. I have given him herbal concoctions to drink before bed, that should resolve his sleeping issues at the very least.
January 15th 868
Samson Breizh was killed during an attempt to escape imprisonment. Justice was merely delayed.
June 12th 868
It appears that Cwrig did indeed suffer from a cancer, as it claimed his life today. There was little I could do but ease his passage.
His son Dumnagual has inherited both his counties, as well as his seat on the council.
I begin to grow restless. The wanderlust that I have long missed has returned. A few more months perhaps, then it is time to depart.
It has been a long time since I visited the Emerald Isle.
____________________________________________________________________
In December of 868, Hincomhal the Wise resigned from the council of Neithon II, departing in the New Year. He left behind the journal he had kept, travelling to Ireland where he was sighted at least three times (868, 870, 871).
After 871, Hincomhal's trail disappears. There are a few recorded sightings of a one-eyed wise man from 871-883, but due to the wild range of locations (ranging from Muzaffaraddin Valencia, the Pala Empire and even one of the earliest Norse settlements in Iceland, later known as Húsavik), whether these sightings were of Hincomhal himself is debatable.
The continued journal of Hincomhal 'the Wise', Court Chaplain and Physician over 863-868
September 14th 865
It appears our luck has turned. Hektorios, Doux of Sicily, brother of Queen Viviana and husband to the King's sister Annest has offered his support with the revolting lords and the Picts. The Doux told us it will likely not be until the spring that Greek soldiers will arrive, but he gave his word on the memory of his father, the late Emperor Gennadios that they will come.
Doux Hektorios II of Sicily, son of Emperor Gennadios the Hollow. Hektorios would later become Emperor of the Romans in his own right.
December 21st 865
The Picts continue to be a thorn in our side, having defeated the garrison we had in place at Eppidant. The threat they pose has given the rebels a reprieve, allowing them to take Bamburgh. Little can be done until Hektorios arrives, but plans are being made to waylay the Picts at the very least.
April 10th 866
It seems God smiles upon us. The Picts were bested at Dul Blaan last month, and now the Greeks have arrived five thousand strong. Neithon and Doux Hektorios now march on Newcastle, where the rebels are currently sieging.
May 21st 866
Samson's rebels were utterly decimated outside of Newcastle, barely escaping with five hundred, whereas the only casualties on the loyalist side were a mere score of Greek and Britons combined. The remaining rebels have fled to Westmorland, but it seems scouts on the Pictish border have reported that Queen Maelmurie is mustering her remaining levies to assault the Cumbrian highlands. We now move to intercept them at Guendoleu.
August 5th 866
It seems that one of the High Chiefs of the Picts faced King Neithon on the battlefield at Guendoleu. I was not witness to it myself, but the camp is rife with stories of how the king severed the chieftain's head with a single blow from the ax of his grandfather.
Regardless of how true the tales are, the camp is in high spirits after the Picts were forced to retreat. The rebels lack the numbers to assault our holdings or even liberate those that are held. This war may well end by the New Year.
January 17th 867
My prediction was off by a month, but the revolt has ended. What remained of the rebel levies were slain to a man outside of Mailrhosan. I cannot say I am proud to have borne witness to such slaughter.
It was later that evening when a party flying the banner of Count Cwrig arrived at the camp, having been absent from the battle. He had come to offer the unconditional surrender of the revolting lords. With him were Chief Samson and Count Arthen, bound and gagged.
As it transpires, Cwrig was blackmailed into joining Samson's faction. He had long disapproved of the intent of the Breton, but was unable to back out before the war begun. He knelt there before the King, professing his wish to atone for breaking his oath and offering himself up to Neithon's judgement. I cannot claim that I know the man well, but he seemed much wearier, gaunt. He does not have long for this world it seems... The karkinos perhaps?
Regardless, the King has passed judgement upon the rebel lords. Arthen Owaining is to be stripped of his title, which will be passed to his brother Grygor, and banished from the kingdom on pain of death.
Count Cwrig shall keep his titles and regain his seat on the Council as it's Steward. However he is to pay reparations for the damages caused to the kingdom and his grandchildren are to be tutored at The Rock as hostages.
Samson Breizh was also stripped of all titles, to be imprisoned for the rest of his life. The former chieftain protested, claiming the sentence was unjust. Neithon shook his head, stating "If it was unjust, you would be gelded, hung, drawn and quartered, as would your children. If anything, traitor, this is mercy."
May 14th 867
King Neithon has come to me complaining of a lack of sleep following the end of the war, I have noticed such myself. The king appears to be suffering from the sort of stress one sees in many a veteran. The harshness of war has a tendency to grind many a man to the core after all. I have given him herbal concoctions to drink before bed, that should resolve his sleeping issues at the very least.
January 15th 868
Samson Breizh was killed during an attempt to escape imprisonment. Justice was merely delayed.
June 12th 868
It appears that Cwrig did indeed suffer from a cancer, as it claimed his life today. There was little I could do but ease his passage.
His son Dumnagual has inherited both his counties, as well as his seat on the council.
I begin to grow restless. The wanderlust that I have long missed has returned. A few more months perhaps, then it is time to depart.
It has been a long time since I visited the Emerald Isle.
____________________________________________________________________
In December of 868, Hincomhal the Wise resigned from the council of Neithon II, departing in the New Year. He left behind the journal he had kept, travelling to Ireland where he was sighted at least three times (868, 870, 871).
After 871, Hincomhal's trail disappears. There are a few recorded sightings of a one-eyed wise man from 871-883, but due to the wild range of locations (ranging from Muzaffaraddin Valencia, the Pala Empire and even one of the earliest Norse settlements in Iceland, later known as Húsavik), whether these sightings were of Hincomhal himself is debatable.
Chapter XVII - No Love Lost (868-877)
Chapter XVII - No Love Lost (868-877)
Following the end of the Oathbreaker Crisis, Neithon's rule of the kingdom was for the most part, a peaceful one.
The same could not be said for his personal life.
Although the royal family was blessed with a second son in December, named Meriadog, Neithon's affair with Hawys Builth put a damper on the positive relations between the king and his wife. Even the birth of a third son, Grygor, in October of 870 did little to cool hostilities. Hawys giving birth to her own son with Neithon, acknowledged as Godwyn, a year after Meriadog's birth was doubtlessly a factor in such.
Less than a month after Grygor's birth, scandal erupted when news arrived that Count Grygor Owaining had ordered his wife's execution by burning. Morganna was the niece of Neithon, eldest daughter of Little Owain. And to say that the prince was furious would be an understatement as Count Cairell Burke recounted to an acquaintance:
"Prince Owain stormed into court this morning, demanding that justice be served upon Count Grygor. Having lost his daughter to Ternyllwg, one could understand his grief. The King did not seem to however, stating that arresting Count Grygor would amount to tyranny and that the realm could ill afford to be divided so soon after the Crisis.
Owain furiously denounced his brother before the whole court, claiming that their father would have much preferred his firstborn on the throne than the 'fop obsessed with his looks' (Referring to the Prince Caradog) or the 'conniving weasel who resembles our departed father through cuckoldry alone'.
Caradog for his part stayed silent, in spite of the furrowed brow. The King merely laughed, pointing out to Prince Owain that he was not the firstborn. The illegitimate "Big" Owain, the father of none other than Count Grygor, was his firstborn. The Prince balked at such, retreating from the court in humiliation.
I did not happen to see Prince Caradog when I glanced his way a moment later."
_________________________________________________________________________________
Count Grygor for his part, had vanished into seclusion. And with Dowager Queen Eiliwedd's agents unable to locate him and Neithon being unwilling to be seen as a tyrant for attacking his own vassal, the steady peace held firm.
Neithon plotted and planned his next conquest, Yns Manaw, long in Pictish hands. Indeed the King became restless, as if finally casting off his laid-back attitude.
His stress levels had remained static however, with many descriptions of Neithon II as "A tired man, only thirty winters yet seeming to near fifty with his world weary eyes and receded hairline."
And yet, for all the schemes atop Cluith Rock, peace was a welcome change. Little significant is recorded for four years after the death of Morganna, save for the betrothal of Prince Custennin to Mor-Muman of Ulaidh in the summer of 873 and a few off-hand references of a daughter born to Neithon and Hawys in June of the following year.
That is until one September morning, the year after Custennin's betrothal, when Court Chaplain Iago arrives in court with Prince Owain, chained and ragged, in tow.
The heretical practices of Little Owain have long been debated, such is the uncertainty behind the entire scandal. But suffice to say, the Prince did little to deny it. While many of Neithon's advisors advocated immediate execution, the king was unwilling to be branded as kinslayer no matter Owain's crime.
Owain was judged guilty of apostasy, to be imprisoned in a cell below the keep for the rest of his life. Although his children were able to convince the King that Owain be allowed visits from family, they did so sporadically, his wife Morien saw him only once before his death in 889.
In the months that followed, an uneasy calm returned to Neithon's domain. While the apostasy scandal slowly faded from memory, the disappearance of Prince Caradog from court became markedly more prominent, having not been in court for over two months before Owain's apostasy trial.
Sightings of the Prince at courts across the Isles, from a gathering of Pictish clans to the court of the king of Gwynedd. Little was known of his motive, but when reports of adventurers and mercenaries joining a growing private army began to trickle through Eiliwedd's contacts, it became clear.
Little could be done to curb the wayward Prince's ambitions, with Caradog ignoring any and all summons from court. For two years, new levies were trained and commanders were heavily vetted as unease grew. Until on September 21st, as the court celebrated the birth of a daughter to Neithon and Viviana (named after her grandmother), Caradog's army began marching for Rheged.
Levies were quickly mustered, with Neithon leading the interception of his brother's forces just beyond the Mercian border at the town of Furness. Caradog's army was described as a mixed bag, Viking Axemen stood alongside Irish mercenaries, Welsh archers and a band of Frankish proto-knights. Skilled as they may have been, they were still outnumbered by two to one.
In the aftermath, a negotiating party was sent from the mercenary army. When met with the King, they promptly handed over a bound and gagged Caradog and departed. Caradog's ambitions were over, not due to his brother's martial might but due to the fact that he refused to pay his own men.
For several months, the king let Caradog languish in a cell. By April 877 however, a quick trial was all that was needed to judge him guilty of high treason against the crown. In spite of the numerous calls of execution, Neithon banished his brother, confiscating the funds that he had gathered and exiling him from the kingdom under pain of death.
The Prince is recorded to have left for Anglian lands, being supported by numerous kings and lords for ten years. Goodwill appears to have dried up after then, as Caradog was found in the beds of more and more noblewomen. He was last seen drinking in a Winchester inn that mysteriously burned down in March 885, whether or not he was a casualty of the fire is unknown.
Following the end of the Oathbreaker Crisis, Neithon's rule of the kingdom was for the most part, a peaceful one.
The same could not be said for his personal life.
Although the royal family was blessed with a second son in December, named Meriadog, Neithon's affair with Hawys Builth put a damper on the positive relations between the king and his wife. Even the birth of a third son, Grygor, in October of 870 did little to cool hostilities. Hawys giving birth to her own son with Neithon, acknowledged as Godwyn, a year after Meriadog's birth was doubtlessly a factor in such.
Less than a month after Grygor's birth, scandal erupted when news arrived that Count Grygor Owaining had ordered his wife's execution by burning. Morganna was the niece of Neithon, eldest daughter of Little Owain. And to say that the prince was furious would be an understatement as Count Cairell Burke recounted to an acquaintance:
"Prince Owain stormed into court this morning, demanding that justice be served upon Count Grygor. Having lost his daughter to Ternyllwg, one could understand his grief. The King did not seem to however, stating that arresting Count Grygor would amount to tyranny and that the realm could ill afford to be divided so soon after the Crisis.
Owain furiously denounced his brother before the whole court, claiming that their father would have much preferred his firstborn on the throne than the 'fop obsessed with his looks' (Referring to the Prince Caradog) or the 'conniving weasel who resembles our departed father through cuckoldry alone'.
Caradog for his part stayed silent, in spite of the furrowed brow. The King merely laughed, pointing out to Prince Owain that he was not the firstborn. The illegitimate "Big" Owain, the father of none other than Count Grygor, was his firstborn. The Prince balked at such, retreating from the court in humiliation.
I did not happen to see Prince Caradog when I glanced his way a moment later."
_________________________________________________________________________________
Count Grygor for his part, had vanished into seclusion. And with Dowager Queen Eiliwedd's agents unable to locate him and Neithon being unwilling to be seen as a tyrant for attacking his own vassal, the steady peace held firm.
Neithon plotted and planned his next conquest, Yns Manaw, long in Pictish hands. Indeed the King became restless, as if finally casting off his laid-back attitude.
His stress levels had remained static however, with many descriptions of Neithon II as "A tired man, only thirty winters yet seeming to near fifty with his world weary eyes and receded hairline."
And yet, for all the schemes atop Cluith Rock, peace was a welcome change. Little significant is recorded for four years after the death of Morganna, save for the betrothal of Prince Custennin to Mor-Muman of Ulaidh in the summer of 873 and a few off-hand references of a daughter born to Neithon and Hawys in June of the following year.
That is until one September morning, the year after Custennin's betrothal, when Court Chaplain Iago arrives in court with Prince Owain, chained and ragged, in tow.
The heretical practices of Little Owain have long been debated, such is the uncertainty behind the entire scandal. But suffice to say, the Prince did little to deny it. While many of Neithon's advisors advocated immediate execution, the king was unwilling to be branded as kinslayer no matter Owain's crime.
Owain was judged guilty of apostasy, to be imprisoned in a cell below the keep for the rest of his life. Although his children were able to convince the King that Owain be allowed visits from family, they did so sporadically, his wife Morien saw him only once before his death in 889.
In the months that followed, an uneasy calm returned to Neithon's domain. While the apostasy scandal slowly faded from memory, the disappearance of Prince Caradog from court became markedly more prominent, having not been in court for over two months before Owain's apostasy trial.
Sightings of the Prince at courts across the Isles, from a gathering of Pictish clans to the court of the king of Gwynedd. Little was known of his motive, but when reports of adventurers and mercenaries joining a growing private army began to trickle through Eiliwedd's contacts, it became clear.
Little could be done to curb the wayward Prince's ambitions, with Caradog ignoring any and all summons from court. For two years, new levies were trained and commanders were heavily vetted as unease grew. Until on September 21st, as the court celebrated the birth of a daughter to Neithon and Viviana (named after her grandmother), Caradog's army began marching for Rheged.
Levies were quickly mustered, with Neithon leading the interception of his brother's forces just beyond the Mercian border at the town of Furness. Caradog's army was described as a mixed bag, Viking Axemen stood alongside Irish mercenaries, Welsh archers and a band of Frankish proto-knights. Skilled as they may have been, they were still outnumbered by two to one.
In the aftermath, a negotiating party was sent from the mercenary army. When met with the King, they promptly handed over a bound and gagged Caradog and departed. Caradog's ambitions were over, not due to his brother's martial might but due to the fact that he refused to pay his own men.
For several months, the king let Caradog languish in a cell. By April 877 however, a quick trial was all that was needed to judge him guilty of high treason against the crown. In spite of the numerous calls of execution, Neithon banished his brother, confiscating the funds that he had gathered and exiling him from the kingdom under pain of death.
The Prince is recorded to have left for Anglian lands, being supported by numerous kings and lords for ten years. Goodwill appears to have dried up after then, as Caradog was found in the beds of more and more noblewomen. He was last seen drinking in a Winchester inn that mysteriously burned down in March 885, whether or not he was a casualty of the fire is unknown.
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Even in times of relative peace, things are never easy for the British princes. Plenty of scheming to unpack.
good to see this make a return!
good to see this make a return!