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The Puppet Master's Assistant -- A Navarre AAR

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Aug 30, 2010
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It didn't seem quite fair. I had just maneuvered the bastard son of a tanner's daughter onto the throne of England when I was abruptly pulled off the job. Here it was the day after Christmas, 1066, and my present (if you want to call it that) was a summons to appear before the Puppet Master himself.

Obviously I wasn't being called on the carpet to be congratulated for a job well done. And when I entered the Master Control Tower and saw the snarl of puppet strings entangling Master Mandrake, I could sense a trip to the woodshed was in my immediate future.

"Young Beauregard," he huffed, pulling vainly at a stray string caught in his ten-century growth of beard. "here's another fine mess you've gotten me into. Where in my instructions to you did it say that Norman bastard was supposed to end up as King of England?"

I was at a loss for words. Evidently, my behind the scenes string-pulling in England had totally disrupted the Master Plan. For that offense, I faced certain banishment to the hinterlands. Master Mandrake hemmed and hawed for a few moments as he contemplated my destination.

"Ahem ... Young Beauregard, I have just the task for you," he said, pawing at a spider web fastened to his ear. "Damned spiders ... now where was I? Oh yes, your new assignment."

Unshelving a dusty atlas, he sneezed violently, dropping the book on the floor in the process. It landed on its spine and flew open. Master Mandrake squinted in the direction of the open book.

"Well, now ... it looks like the atlas has chosen for you. Navarra .... Navarre ... whatever you want to call it, that's where you're headed. And this time, follow the Master Plan. No more bastards on thrones, you hear?"

His parting words gnawed at me as I was transported to my destination. Follow the Master Plan.

Only it was not in my nature to be a follower. An idea formed in my head. A devious idea. It occurred to me that Navarra was a mere fly speck on the pages of Master Mandrake's Master Plan. Out of sight, out of mind -- that's where I was. It was the perfect situation to make a little mischief while the Master's attention was elsewhere. As I materialized in the royal castle of Navarra, there might have been a slight smirk on my face.

And thus my tale begins ....
​
 
Looks extremely interesting...following
 
I arrive at the scene ...

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Navarra in 1066 was a sheep surrounded by hungry wolves. To the west, Castile was the most powerful Christian kingdom on the peninsula they called Iberia. To the east, the Kingdom of Aragon and the Duchy of Barcelona, both large enough to devour tiny Navarra with a single gulp. To the south, the Emirate of Zaragoza stood ready to bring down a horde of infidels. Only on the north, with the Pyranees at its back, was there a measure of security.

One look at King Sancho and his court was enough to make a puppet master cringe. The King’s abilities were nothing to write home about, but could have been much worse considering the inbreeding in his ancestry. And his court was more like the family business for the numerous Jiminez clan. Brother Ramiro was the count of Rioja, and younger brothers Fernando and Ramundo were clamoring for titles of their own. Four grown-up sisters: Hermesinda, Mayor, Urraca and Jimena, all of marraigeable age.


Sancho and his siblings:
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1042Hermesinda.png

1043Fernando.png

1044Mayor.png

1045Raimundo.png

1046aUrraca.png

1048Jimena.png


Just to confuse matters even further, three of the King’s four main advisers were named Urraca Jimenez. Cousin Urraca was chancellor, sister Urraca was spymaster, and great-aunt Urraca was steward. It was enough to make a puppet master’s head spin. The best of the Jimenez clan appeared to be cousin Garcia, who gave indications of developing into a fine marshal at age 20.

Sancho's relatives/advisers:
StewardUrraca-1.png

MarshalGarcia.png

ChancellorUrraca.png


I resolved to break up this family gathering at the court. But first there was more important business to attend to. Since I was invisible to everyone except King Sancho, he was the one I needed to become acquainted with. So I materialized in his bedchamber while he was preening in the mirror.

The image of me looking over his shoulder in the mirror just about caused the King to lose control of his bowels. “Christ Almighty!” he exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “Who are you and how did you get here?”

“I’m your new advisor,” I said, figuring Sancho would be more receptive to word advisor than the words Puppet Master. “No need to reach for your sword -- you could attempt to run me through and it would do me no harm. I am an apparition.”

The King blanched and crossed himself several times. “I don’t need another adviser, I’ve got more than enough of those already.”

I quickly set him straight. “What you have is plenty of bad advisers. You need good advice on important matters of state. Here you are, living in an abode more like a pigsty than a castle. Any day now, one of your powerful neighbors might get it into his head to come tramping into your domain, The only thing you have in abundance is a surplus of brothers, sisters and cousins; all living off the royal treasury.

“And might I ask, Your Highness, why you have no queen yet at age 27. Your late father, may his soul rest in peace, already had seven offspring by the time he was as old as you are now.

“You need a new adviser. I rest my case.”

King Sancho shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a spirit, let alone taking one on as an adviser. My courtiers will think I’ve gone loco.”

“Not a problem,” I responded. “I will be visible to you and only you. As long as you don’t talk out loud when we’re in conference together, no one will be the wiser. Now lets get this show on the road."
 
Well, I'm intrigued! Don't see every day an AAR with ghosts. :p
 
Chapter Two: War With Zaragoza

Since Sancho was spoiling for a fight anyway, I convinced him that the Emirate of Zaragoza was the best target available. Castile had far too many available troops, and I doubted Sancho could muster sufficient siege equipment to capture the main fortress of Aragon. On the other hand Zaragoza was held by infidels and its conquest would significantly raise Sancho’s esteem in Christian Europe.
With that in mind, Sancho mobilized his regiment and set off to join forces with his brother Ramiro in Rioja.

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In the meantime, Chancellor Urraca was engaged in negotiations to marry off Sancho’s brothers Fernando and Raimundo. A proposed match between Fernando and Isabeau of France was turned down, as was a match between Raimundo and Ingrid, daughter of King Sven of Denmark. Obviously Navarra lacked the prestige to be counted among the major royal houses of Europe.
Chancellor Urraca then turned her attention to the court of Scotland, where Margaret Atheling was promised as a bride for Steward Fernando. Raimundo would have to wait for a wife, since he was en route to Rioja with Sancho’s regiment.

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By January 26, the regiments of Navarra and Rioja were ready to march on Zaragoza, and the war was on.

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As I had expected, Emir Abdul was unprepared for this incursion by his northern neighbor. With his vassals from Tarragona and Catalyud not yet on the scene, Abdul had only 660 fighters on hand to oppose our army of 1450 when we arrived in Zaragoza in the final week of February.
The two armies had their decisive clash on March 12 in front of the walls of Zaragoza. At the end of the day, the infidels fled in disorder, leaving 356 of their number for the vultures to feed on. Our losses totalled 95.

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We hardly had time to bury our dead when our scouts reported the forces of Mohammad of Catalyud were approaching from the southwest. On April 2, Mohammad unwisely chose to do battle, even though we outnumbered him 1360 to 617, A brilliant charge by Marshal Garcia and his knights transformed victory into a slaughter. Our brave knights kept up the chase until 567 of the infidels were sent to the fires of hell where they belonged. After mourning the loss of 102 of our own, we resumed the siege of the fort of Zaragoza.

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The military prowess of Navarra’s army was making an impression. On May 8, a courier from King Sancho Ramirez of Aragon arrived in our camp. King Sancho (the one from Aragon) was interested in marrying our King Sancho’s youngest sister Jimena.

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Our King Sancho bristled at the suggestion. “I’ll be damned if I betroth my sister to that scheming varlet,” he fumed.
His reaction was hardly surprising considering the two Sanchos had claims on each other’s crowns, However, I pointed out the wisdom of pacifying a potentially dangerous neighbor.
“Marry your sister to the King of Aragon,” I whispered in his ear. “His conscience won’t allow him to attack a brother-in-law ... at least not yet. You’ll be able to finish off this siege without having to watch your back.”
So the courier was sent back to Aragon with the good news and Jimena was duly wed. During the wedding ceremonies, the two brother-iin-laws glowered at each other like two alley cats over a barrel full of fish heads. Things did not bode well for future relations, but at least the present was taken care of.
Back to the siege of Zaragoza. Emir Abdul’s vassal Yusef of Tarragona attempted to break the siege during the second week of June. On June 15 Marshal Garcia and his knights again acquitted themselves magnificiently, dispatching 526 of the 548 infidels who had ventured onto the battlefield. Our losses totalled 122.

26.png

Emir Abdul made another attempt to relieve his beleagured capital in July with the remnants of the force we had so thoroughly beaten in March. The demoralized Zaragozians didn’t put up much of a fight against Marshal Garcia’s now-confident troops. In the battle of July 24, we slew 245 of the 363 enemy, while losing just 10 of our own men.

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Additional skirmishes on October 5th and 17th resulted in the elimination of 154 additional infidels, at no cost to our own army, However attrition had reduced our force to 932 men by the time Emir Abdul mustered his last desperate attempt to raise the siege in December.
The decisive battle was fought on a chilly afternoon four days before Christmas. Abdul had patched together an army of 540 from the remnants of the previously beaten forces of Zaragoza, Catalyud and Tarragona, and at first the issue was in doubt. However a timely flanking maneuver by Marshal Garcia and his knights provided the decisive blow. At the end of the day, 487 of the enemy lay dead, and Emir Abdul only avoided the same fate by taking refuge behind the walls of Zaragoza.

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​
The siege dragged on into the new year. Our men entertained themselves by lobbing decapitated infidel heads, dead horses and other unsavory objects over the walls, while the defenders were reportedly starving on a diet of cats and rats. On January 22, 1068, Emir Abdul sent out an emissary under a white flag. Two days later, he agreed to surrender all claims to the province of Zaragoza. In return, Sancho agreed not to invade Tarragona and Catalyud, a minor concession indeed. Barely half our original force had survived the battles and the siege itself.

68-1.png

It was a small victory in the grander scheme of things. However, it established Navarra as a force to be reckoned with on the Iberian peninsula. And it was also the first step on the path to greatness for Sancho of Navarra (with the benefit of my wise counselling, of course).
 
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