Nectorist 7424 Share Posted September 18, 2023 THE WINTER CROWS: Volume II; Andrik II - The Soldier Written by Demetrius Barrow Andrik II - The Soldier "It was done for honor.” - Brynden Vanir, Marquis of Vasiland on the murder of Emperor John IV Although short and ultimately ill-fated, the bold escapades and daring life of Andrik II have made him one of the best-remembered early Kings of Haense. Born in the waning days of the Riga War on the 11th of Sun’s Smile, 1564, to the newly-made Duke Petyr of Haense and Elizaveta Ruthern, Andrik Otto was now the infant heir of a man whose fortunes only seemed to be rising. Not to be alone, his sister Julyia Katerina (born in 1565), brothers Karl Sigmar and Heinrik Petyr (born in 1566), and youngest sister Tatiana Aleksandra (born in 1567) provided him with constant companionship throughout his life. In addition, the young heirlings Brynden Vanir and Demetrius var Ruthern, his peers, would also come to be close friends and confidants. It was doubtless a good thing that the young Andrik was able to grow up with a number of siblings and courtiers close in age. His mother’s death in childbirth in 1567, and his father’s duties both to Haense and the Empire, meant that the abatement of loneliness required youthful companionship. That being said, the Duke of Haense was by no means inattentive, and there are plenty of accounts of him overseeing some of his son’s tutoring, taking him on hunts and visits to vassal lords, and the occasional game of hide-and-seek around Ottosgrad Castle. Although never inclined to scholarly pursuits, Andrik was a bright pupil, and was especially well-versed in arithmetic and geology. One account from Alric of Rytsburg, a tax collector in the service of House Vyronov, dated to 1574, makes mention of a rock collecting habit formed by the young heir, which eventually manifested in a friendly rivalry with his brother Karl. Both would set out from St. Karlsburg at first light and not return home until dusk, whereupon they emptied out their bags and compared the minerals they had gathered that day. Quick to anger, and never one to back down from a fight, the boy’s warrior instincts were also apparent from his earliest days. Taking the role as his siblings’ defender, he came to challenge any insult or blow to body or honor towards he or his siblings. One notable incident came in the winter of 1576, where it was recorded in the ledgers of St. Karlsburg that packs of hungry dogs had taken to roving around the outside of the city, attacking livestock. A rare break in the heavy storms and snowfalls encouraged Juliya to venture beyond the walls, wanting to escape the monotony of being holed up inside of the city. However, not far outside of the city, a trio of ravenous dogs began to chase her, as the girl was small enough to be their next meal. Andrik, hearing his sister’s cries for help, rushed outside of the city walls, armed only with a stick, and fought viciously to protect her. She was able to escape and alert a few guards who drove off the dogs. The boy had been bitten nearly thirty times over, which left him bedridden until that next spring, but the sound of laughter could be heard throughout the halls of the keep as the grateful Juliyana kept him company until he had recovered. Such a protective spirit was not only afforded to his family. His good friend, Demetrius var Ruthern, the heir to Metterden, was said to be a mild-mannered boy who was inclined to numbers and words more than fists and sticks. Alric of Rytsburg writes of Andrik’s intervention during an encounter between Ruthern and Franz Kovachev, a poor relation of Count Sergei of Turov: "The wicked Franz [Kovachev], a known scourge of priests, tutors, and courtiers, the leader of a gang of ruffians, took to throwing rocks at the boy Demetrius Ruthern after the latter, said to have inherited his uncle’s clumsiness, had accidentally knocked over a statue in the gardens. Despite being pelted with large stones, enough to draw blood, the boy kept where he was, hurled into a ball. It continued for a few minutes until Prince Andrik, having heard the commotion, charged into the garden grounds and attacked Kovachev and his ill-doers. Despite his royal status, the boy was severely beaten by the gang, though Demetrius was able to escape and warn the guards. For their crimes, the lowly Kovachev and his fellow delinquents were exiled back to Turov, not to set foot back in St. Karlsburg under threat of hanging.” Around the age of twelve, two years before his father’s ascension to the throne of Haense, Andrik was sent to Vasiland to be squired to Marquis Fiske Vanir, one of the staunchest supporters of House Barbanov. Little is known of his time in Vasiland, though tales from a fisherman, recounted through his sister’s friend to Ugo Amadi, an Illatian merchant who often docked at the port near the region, says that Andrik’s natural talents as a soldier became apparent during this time, and by the age of fourteen he was the finest swordsman in Vasiland. His confirmed knighthood in 1578 in Imperial rolls attest to this, as he had achieved in mere months what took most men his age years. His close friendship with Fiske’s son, Brynden, is also attested to at this time. Both were cut from the same cloth- brave, reckless, and honor-driven. A fine soldier in his own right, Brynden’s skill at arms was second only to Andrik’s, though he lacked much of the latter’s tactical acumen and natural charisma. Despite this, he too was well-regarded, and the pair, along with Demetrius var Ruthern, were said to be promising young men and suitable successors to their fathers. 1578 also brought the Duke of Haense’s fortunes to their greatest heights when he was named King of Haense by his good friend and liege, Emperor John III. Now the princely heir to a great realm of the Empire, the newly-knighted Andrik was recalled to St. Karlsburg to fulfill his duties. Haense had entered a period of flourishing, as its elevation in standing had coincided with the end of the Krajian Rebellion, which stimulated economic activity and brought many newcomers to the northern kingdom who wished to make their own fortunes in the blossoming realm. Prince Andrik, now officially at the age of majority, was tasked to settle many of the kingdom’s new frontier lands with villages and forts. For the better part of a year he worked with local lords and magnates to tame the wilds of the Haeseni borders. The job was done well by all reports, which endeared the young prince to many of the notables he had worked with and proved his competency in administrative affairs to the realm. Prince Andrik saw his first true combat in the War of Orcish Submission a year later, as he was called to his father’s side when the latter answered John III’s summoning of his vassals to march on Krugmar. Given command of the Haeseni cavalry, the prince did well conducting scouting and foraging operations at the beginning of the campaign. He also oversaw a few minor skirmishes, but was forbidden by his father from joining the fray, much to the son’s anger. Their shouting matches from within the king’s tent could be heard nearly each night until King Petyr finally relented. The Battle of Altay was Prince Andrik’s first glory on the battlefield. Facing a small force of some seven hundred orcs, left behind by Rex Vorgo’Yar to buy time for the defenses of San’Kharak to be prepared, it was clear from the beginning that much of the fighting was going to be left to the Imperial vanguard, which was mostly comprised of the Haeseni contingent. As commander of the cavalry, it would fall to Prince Andrik to ensure that the coming fight was won with minimal casualties. He spent much of the night of the 4th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1579, conferring with the Marquis of Vasiland and his heir over the next day’s plans. At the Battle of Altay, on the 5th of Godfrey’s Triumph, post-action reports speak well to the prince’s performance. At the head of two hundred Haeseni knights, the young Andrik, with his good friend Brynden Vanir at his side, led his troops to disperse the seven hundred orcs. A flanking force led by the Marquis of Vasiland then sent them scattering. By the time the main host under Petyr I arrived, the battle had virtually been won. Andrik had fought admirably, slaying three foes himself and capturing another, and Brynden was knighted by his king on the battlefield. Imperial bulletins commended the Haeseni for their performance, as only a handful of soldiers had even been injured. The Emperor also lauded the heir of Haense’s personal leadership and valor, and named him Baron of Altay for his victory. As the Imperial army marched on San’Kharak, King Petyr fell increasingly ill. He had been wounded during the battle and while it was little more than a shallow cut, infection had set in. By the time that the orcish capital was encircled he was confined to his tent and unable to oversee his section of the siegeworks. This command was given to Sergei Kovachev, the leading Haeseni bannermen, but Prince Andrik was allowed a seat at the greater Imperial war council alongside the Count of Turov. While his voice here was minimal compared to the great lords that he sat with- the Emperor himself, the Duke of Lorraine, the Duke of Savoy, among others- he was a bright and observant lieutenant. Within the camps themselves he was adored by the soldiers and frequently mingled with the ranks, where he took to drinking and boasting and jesting with the rest. This is not to say he was neglectful of his duties, though, and the Haeseni camps were among the best-kept. The chosen date for the storming of San’Kharak was the 25th of Sun’s Smile, 1580, after several months of sustained siege. It was a costly and difficult endeavor to supply the large Imperial army in the wastes of the hordelands. The Emperor had no desire to indebt the Crown over what was a foregone conclusion: San’Kharak would fall. Intimately involved in the planning leading to the assault, Prince Andrik, who by this time had learned greatly from John III and gained his complete trust, was tasked with leading his Haeseni soldiers over the walls. They would be the first, for their fierceness would be needed to secure a bridgehead whereby the rest of the army could follow. The dashing young prince accepted this honor with jubilation, and it is said that he immediately ran back to the camps to excitedly inform his men of what was to come. An Oyashimin painting of the Siege of San’Kharak, c. 1711 The assault itself went as well as could be hoped for Prince Andrik. Said to be one of the first men over the walls of the citadel, he and his fellow Haeseni pushed through the first line of beleaguered orcs from their ladders and siege towers. As they cleared a way into the fortress, Crownlanders, Lorrainians, and Savoyards followed. Within a few hours, the gates of San’Kharak were thrown open for the victorious Emperor and his entourage, who rounded up the few remaining prisoners and set about destroying the city to ensure that it would not be used again as a home for enemies of the Empire and its allies. Prince Andrik was once again commended, and by the time his father recovered from his illness a few days later he was given leave to return home. Nearly two years of campaigning, and the glories he had won while on it, had completed the prince’s transition to manhood. He returned to St. Karlsburg a hero of war and feasts were thrown in his honor. When Petyr I and the main body of the army arrived weeks later, five days were set aside for games and banquets, of which the young heir was said to have shown himself to be a charismatic and genial prince. One account from court fool Bartosz claims that he wooed the court ladies by bending thirty horseshoes into the shapes of ducks, then impressed the grizzled old men by winning three drinking contests in the same night. For the next two years, Prince Andrik was given a greater role in his father’s government. Although King Petyr had recovered from his illness at San’Kharak, his general constitution had not greatly improved. It was not known quite when the aging king would perish, but it was presumed that it would come soon. Not wishing to have his young son inherit the throne without experience in councils and dealings with higher lords, the king sought to have him by his side at nearly every hour. From dawn until dusk, the heir dutifully assisted his father in nearly every capacity, effectively becoming his secretary as he watched, listened, and occasionally contributed on his own. What few free moments the prince had were often spent touring the realm with his closest confidants, as several sources confirm. From the priest of Metterden, Father Alric of Vsenk, c. 1589: "And, in the year 1581, our good lord Maric died after consuming so many seeds of a melon that one grew within him and tore his stomach asunder. His son, Demetrius, he of keen mind but passive disposition, became Count of Metterden. He desired to wed his betrothed, Sofia Amador, daughter of his vassal Ruslan Amador, Baron of Mondstadt, and host a reception by a nearby hot spring. However, a clan of bandits had taken possession of it, and it was feared that the location would need to be changed if they were not driven out, as the wedding was only a month away. It was on the 2nd of Harren’s Folly that the proud prince, Andrik, and the reckless Brynden Vanir, son of Fiske Vanir, Marquis of Vasiland, came to visit their dear friend and be present at his wedding. The three embraced and talked at length, for the former two had not seen our dear lord while they had been at campaign against the orcs. The conversation turned to the dilemma that faced our lord’s wedding, and our good prince Andrik and Brandon Vanir both offered their blades. They took twenty soldiers from the garrison and cleared the bandits from the hot springs, allowing the wedding and later reception to continue unimpeded. For their good deed, they were given the second highest seats near our lord’s table, only below the Count and Countess themselves.” From Erik Baruch, Count of Ayr, writing to King Petyr, c. 1581: "I had the honore of hosting your honorable Son, Prince Andrik, who louked evry bit the warryor I saw at Altae and San Carack, and your Daughter, Princess Juliya, whos beuty is surpassd onlee by that of your late Wife, may she Rest In Pieace. It was peculiere to see them arryve with out anouncment or lettre, but they were of Goode companie and brought merryllment to my younge baebe, Otto, my future heire, who laffed giddilie in Their presentce. Your Children did me the dutie of tremming my garrdin hedjis, of which my wife had complayned bitterlye and inflicted upon my saneity a great maladie. When they departed, They asked for nout but graine for their horses.” From Roseia Staunton, Countess of Turov, c. 1582: "This morning I, most surprisingly, came upon the two princes Andrik and Karl. Inquiring why they had come such a long way out from St. Karlsburg, they answered that Andrik was teaching his younger brother how to train a goose hawk he had received for his birthday. Knowing little of falconry myself, I asked him to explain some of it to me. His handsome face warmed as he, unable to suppress what was assuredly the natural excitement of a youth explaining some beloved hobby, told me all of it. I learned that the goose hawk is favored because it is willing to charge into brush after prey on foot if needed, but can also take to the skies to attack from above. By the end of it, I could hardly hide my own delight and began to laugh. Puzzled, the prince Karl asked me why I found it so funny when I had been listening attentively. I remarked that his older brother reminded me every bit of their father, who once before had launched into a great speech about a new type of saddle he had designed for my lord husband.” Such escapades came to an end in 1582 with his father’s death. Having died in Johannesburg on the 4th of Sigismund’s End of that year, the old king left his son a prosperous realm, a series of carefully-prepared alliances, and the good favor of the Imperial court. Andrik, now King Andrik II of Haense, oversaw both his father’s funeral processions and his own coronation, the latter of which coming on the 9th of Sigismund’s End. It was said to be a somber event, as the death of the beloved King Petyr was not something to be easily overcome, but all had faith that the new king, young as he may be, only a man of eighteen, could match his predecessor’s accomplishments. While he was still brash and quick to anger, he had already displayed courage in battle, wisdom, and a charismatic brand of leadership, and praises were made of him as the lords of Haense swore fealty to their new king. The first necessity of Andrik II’s reign was his marriage to Reza Elizaveta, the eldest daughter of the powerful Sergei Kovachev, Count of Turov. Having expanded his lands and fortunes in recent years with which he settled many vassals and household knights, the veteran bannerman had become the foremost vassal of King Petyr. Although the Count of Turov had been a loyal subject, the late king wanted to ensure his unwavering fealty continued through his son’s reign, thus the match was made. Although Andrik and Reza Elizaveta were not intended to marry until 1586, the former’s ascension meant that an earlier date was needed to both give Haense a queen and to ensure an heir was born sooner. Reza Elizaveta, born on the 30th of Harren’s Folly, 1565, was by no means the typical Haeseni woman of the time. The ideal woman then was thought to be gentle, submissive, and motherly, while a queen needed to embody a chaste virtue and humble, muted disposition. King Andrik, much a traditionalist in the vein of nearly all men of the age, desired in his queen a woman who would provide a softer public face for his reign. He wished for Reza Elizaveta to support his rule by playing the role of the devoted wife who never contradicted or challenged him, but could give him a means of showing mercy or tenderness in public, so as to not have his subjects think him a cruel, cold man without also appearing weak. Reza Elizaveta was not to be a mere actor, as their earliest days of contact show. Meeting on the 10th of Horen’s Calling, 1582, the pair made cordial introductions and agreed on a wedding date set for three months from then. Unfortunately, that was the only point of agreement during that meeting, as the two bickered incessantly about how the ceremony was to be planned and conducted. Where King Andrik favored something quick, inexpensive, and modest, the to-be Queen wanted her marriage to come with the greatest splendor the realm had seen and wished to spare no cost to see it done. For hours the two fought, even coming to screaming, until they. retired for the eve. Reza Elizaveta, showing what was to become a characteristic defiance, returned home and would only communicate with her betrothed through letters. It took over half a year of negotiations until a compromise could be reached. Although the Count of Turov did not approve of his daughter’s misconduct, he was not so cruel a man as to force her to marry King Andrik against her will. Instead, he operated as the principal go-between, and as the bickering drew out, he became increasingly frustrated at the stubbornness from the both of them. By the end of the year, though, an agreement was reached. The expenses for the wedding would be small, but the bride would be allowed the most luxurious, expensive dress that Turov could afford, which given Lord Kovachev’s expanding lands and fortunes, was great. Held on the 15th of Sun’s Smile, 1583, the wedding of Andrik II and Reza Elizaveta took place in the central cathedral of St. Karlsburg. It was generally unremarkable save for the new queen’s wedding dress, which was noted by nearly all attendants who remarked that it stained such an honorable seat with decadence and pomp. The one who liked it least of all was the presiding priest, who halted the ceremony to give a long sermon on humility and charity. His loudest applause came from the groom himself. This inauspicious start marked the beginning of a short, tumultuous marriage. While the king was a proud northman who wished to keep to his lands and serve the Empire loyally, but never intimately, the queen was more than comfortable introducing court trends from Johannesburg and fraternizing with the noblewomen of the south. She struck up a particular friendship with Empress Julia, the beloved wife of John III. The two agreed to organize a “Unity Ball” to take place in Johannesburg and celebrate the ties of the Haeseni and the Crownlanders. Prince Karl vehemently opposed the idea and the two argued incessantly, with their screams being heard throughout Ottosgrad. Although King Andrik eventually sided with his wife, one of the rare occasions on which he did, it is believed by some that he privately supported his brother, as payments to the household showed that he tried to deny the queen and the Empress as much funding as possible for this ball. While many believe that King Andrik’s famed opposition to the Empire existed all his life, it is clear that he was simply trying to delicately balance his desire to uphold his vows to the Emperor, who he greatly respected, while appeasing the populace of Haense which had recently began to shift its favor away from Oren. The precise reasons for this are unknown, as mere years before they had fought loyally in the Krajian Rebellion and the War of Orcish Submission, and the Kingdom of Haense itself had been created by the same Emperor who sat the throne. The best answer that we can give will be shown later, but what is apparent is that King Andrik thought these sentiments to be very serious. The first great sign came with the Unity Ball itself, which was well-attended by the Crownlanders, but was only attended by a few Haeseni, namely the King and Queen themselves and House Kovachev. Even King Andrik only stayed long enough to pay his respects before promptly departing. This insult was not taken lightly by the Imperial Court, and an embarrassed Count Sergei and Queen Reza apologized profusely. By all accounts the rest of the ball went well for all aspects save the celebration of unity, but just as the Kovachevs’s moods began to lift, they were shattered again when they were informed that King Andrik had left them behind, having taken all the carriages back to Haense. When they returned home, needing to borrow a few Imperial carriages to finally make it back to Haense, the Kovachevs virtually withdrew from court life. Queen Reza openly insulted courtiers of St. Karlsburg and vassals of the Haeseni Crown, earning her the ire from nearly all the population. Meanwhile, Count Sergei returned to Turov and refused to leave. King Andrik did little to smooth over this fractured relationship with his wife’s family and began to turn further to many of the rest of his vassals, who applauded his stand and accused House Kovachev of being Imperial lackeys. At this time, King Andrik’s principal advisors were the men that he had grown up with as a boy and had come to trust greatly. The first of these was Brynden Vanir, now the Marquise of Vasiland, who was absolutely loyal to his liege and was perhaps the fiercest anti-Imperial voice; he had outright forbidden his family to attend the Unity Ball under threat of disownment. His own marriage to Princess Tatiana, King Andrik’s youngest sister, had only strengthened ties between the two. While he never went so far as to advocate outright independence from the Empire, even in these times such talk was dangerous, he openly and loudly questioned the purpose their fealty to the Horens gave to them. Krajia and Courland had been long-defeated and with them the Houses of Staunton and Ivanovich had fallen into ruin. With these great threats gone, there was no need for Imperial protection and much less for service to them. Although King Andrik never openly heeded the radical advice of his closest friend, he did little to try and temper his forceful arguments. The second was his own brother, Prince Karl who, while still young, was said to be one of the brightest lads in all of Haense. He was far more tactful than the Marquis of Vasiland, and he opposed what he thought to be needless antagonism. Instead, he believed in a sort of cultural autonomy for Haense, so that their customs and traditions could be preserved. This is why he clashed so bitterly with Queen Reza, but was by all accounts cordial to those who visited Haense from other parts of the Empire. He saw no problem with sharing an Empire with the Crownlanders, Savoyards, and Lothairingians so long as Haeseni customs were not supplanted. It was perhaps his brother that the King took counsel from the most, for he saw him the most moderate of all the influences that pulled on him. The third was Count Demetrius of Metterden, who was thought of as nearly as pro-Imperial as the Count of Turov, though his close friendship with the king prevented his own loss in standing in the court. An owner of many properties across the Empire, especially several inns and taverns in great Johannesburg, the Count of Metterden noted the economic benefits gained from being in the Empire. Peace now reigned across the land and trade was plentiful. Commerce and progress ought to be the order of the day, so he argued, and the attention of Haense was better put there than in frivolous demonstrations against the Empire. Some of the more volatile men at court, led of course by the Marquis of Vasiland, ridiculed him for what they thought to be a cowardly and self-serving perspective, but such talk was quickly silenced by the king. Others certainly had their place in King Andrik’s court. Fiske Vanir, the previous Marquis of Vasiland, stressed that antagonism against the Empire would simply bring its might upon Haense and urged the king to make amends with Lord Kovachev. Ruslan Amador, the Baron of Mondstadt and father of Maria Amador, wife of Prince Karl, advocated for a strengthening of the royal army, though only implied what end it would achieve. Eirik Baruch, the Count of Ayr, said that Haense owed a great deal to the Empire and to slight it would be a great dishonor. These three men, among many others, show the wide range of voices in the Haeseni court on the question of relations with the Imperial Crown alone, but they were not heeded to nearly the same degree. A painting of the Rothswood south of Karosgrad by Davey Wockett, c. 1602. These were Andrik II’s favorite hunting grounds due to their accessibility from St. Karlsburg. The second great event that turned King Andrik’s heart against the Empire came in the waning months of 1584 when his frequent letters with his beloved sister, Princess Juliya, turned for the worse. The beautiful young woman had been fostered for some time now in the Imperial Court to become accustomed to life in the Crownlands and familiarize herself with her betrothed, Prince John Augustus, the heir to the Empire. Although he was recognized as a brilliant youth, the Imperial heir had a streak of cruelty that embittered all to him, even his own brothers. He treated his betrothed with open disdain as he mocked, threatened, and berated her. While he never raised a hand against her, he made it clear that if she were to ever cross him he would harm her. Scared and isolated at the Imperial Court, Princess Juliya turned to the one person she could always confide in: her brother. Grigory of Vsenk, an explorer of Axios, was present at the Haeseni court when King Andrik received word from his sister of her abuses. He writes: "...the Hansa King’s wroth, which I had thought to be mere legend, was put on full display. He burst into the hall, pledging to ride to Johannesburg himself and beat this insolent prince until he begged forgiveness. He ordered that letters be sent to the Emperor to demand his sister’s immediate return. Then he returned to his chambers to confer with his council, but all could hear his rage for hours still.” Despite his words, the king’s display was more bluster than decision. His first two children, the twins Marus Andrik and Katherine Aleksandra, had been born on the 12th of Owyn’s Flame of that year. The more tender side of his heart won out, and the new father wished instead to spend his time with his newborn children than to provoke an incident with the Emperor, who he still held respect for and did not wish to come to blows with. His time with his children eased his heart, and according to Grigory of Vsenk, who departed by the 7th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1584, the young king’s “...demeanor had relaxed greatly over these few weeks, and he played with his children as much as he spent time attending to his duties. The former brought laughter to the halls of Ottosgrad, which did well to abate, though not extinguish, the fiery anger that had consumed his eyes that horrible day. He entrusted me with a letter to present to the Emperor requesting that a bodyguard be assigned to Princess Juliya. I obliged, for I was needing to head south regardless.” Fatefully, this letter never reached the Emperor. On the 25th of Sun’s Smile, 1585, the court of St. Karlsburg was informed by a frantic messenger that Emperor John III had been killed by high elven assassins just a week earlier. Shock engulfed the court, with some even crying out in dismay, for the young Emperor, still only thirty six, had been expected to rule for a great many years. Although opinions on the Empire had soured in just a short period, John III was a well-respected liege by nearly all. King Andrik promptly ordered a period of mourning, but was privately distressed at the thought of John Augustus’s ascension to the throne and what it could mean for his sister and his kingdom. As the days passed, more news trickled in on the nature of the good Emperor’s killing. Some links were found between the high elven assassins and the Imperial heir. Speculation and rumor grew abound, as it was known that the impetuous John Augustus did not hesitate to loudly and frequently complain of the many years it would take until his turn to take the throne came. What began as whispers turned into court gossip, and soon it was accepted as fact that the now-Emperor John IV had murdered his own father to take the throne. This open secret created an uneasy tension between the new Emperor and his vassals, for his father had commanded the loyalty of his vassals and instilled fear in his enemies, while he, still a boy of sixteen, had few achievements to his name and even less love to it. In St. Karlsburg, King Andrik conferred with his council on what was to be done. He had no desire to play ignorance to John IV’s patricidal plot to gain the throne, but with his sister still at the Imperial Court and soon to be the Empress, he could not defy the Emperor openly. When the Count of Metterden began to advise his friend and liege that perhaps Princess Juliya’s marriage to the Emperor should continue in order to begin a mending of relations, King Andrik screamed that every moment in Johannesburg was a dangerous one for his sister. Additionally, to allow the crimes against John III to go unpunished would be a dishonor to the man who had been his father’s friend and a fair liege to Haense. For the only time in his life, King Andrik, his rage overcoming him, ordered Count Demetrius to return to his lands. Prince Karl’s advice, to wait until the Imperial Crown acted, was not met with nearly as much hostility, but was dismissed quickly. King Andrik was many things, but he was not a man to sit and wait. Quick action, if action bordering on rash, had always served him well. Besides, time given to John IV was time that would be used against Haense. Marquis Brynden’s words were what swayed the king most greatly, though one can certainly argue that he simply spoke what his liege had already been thinking. Haense was no friend of the Empire, and even less so of its new sovereign. In Haense his death would be met with cheers, not cries for justice. Indeed, the only justice to be done was killing the man who had ordered his father killed and threatened the life of Princess Juliya. Overruling Prince Karl’s protests, King Andrik agreed, and the three men began to plot their strike against the Emperor. The events of John IV’s death were set in motion on the 18th of Harren’s Folly, 1585, when he received a letter from Andrik II offering congratulations on his ascension and condolences for his father’s passing. The King of Haense expressed his excitement for the upcoming wedding between his daughter and the Emperor. He thought similarly of the coming coronation in the month of Tobias’s Bounty later that year, and he promised that he would bring every lord, lady, and knight in Haense, high and low, as a part of his retinue. He concluded the brief letter by inviting the young Emperor to come to St. Karlsburg so that King Andrik could proclaim his fealty before all the court of Haense in a grand showing that would signal to his vassals that his loyalty remained firm and dissent would not be tolerated. Despite his cunning, the Emperor, arrogantly believing that he had cowed the bold Andrik II, took the bait. He sent a letter back, promising that he would make his way north that next month after affairs in the Heartlands were settled and his rule there was secured. He also ordered that, because it would coincide with his birthday, that gifts be prepared and food stockpiled for a grand celebration thrown in his honor. King Andrik replied that he would, his short, formal words no doubt masking the desire for vengeance that wrapped itself around his heart. The Emperor and his entourage arrived in the Haeseni capital late in the evening on the 15th of Sigismund’s End, 1585. A recent avalanche had blocked their route, forcing many hours to be spent clearing it. Among the visiting party was Princess Juliya, who embraced her brother and came to tears. The king repressed his own as to not arouse suspicion, and joked that the scars he had borne from San’Kharak had given him a profile so ugly that his sister had grown frightened of him. This amused the Emperor, who promised that he and King Andrik could formally meet and discuss matters the next morning, as the hour was late. When the next morning came, a light breakfast of toast, cereals, spiced ham, eggs made of all varieties, fruits, bacon, sausage, various types of bread made from all corners of the kingdom, waffles, thirteen different flavors of syrup, and the finest coffee imported from the Dominion of Malin was served. After breakfast, the king and the Emperor retired to the former’s study. The Marquis of Vasiland asked to accompany the two and the Emperor, who was quite pleased with the reception that had been prepared for him, accepted. From this point until the later announcement of the Emperor’s death by King Andrik, little is known of what transpired. Aside from the three men in the study and two guards posted outside of it, there were no witnesses. Most of the Haeseni court was busy preparing for the belated birthday celebrations of the Emperor, which gave much activity to Ottosgrad and took attention away from the ongoing meeting. Despite the lack of evidence, three rumors have been given serious attention by historians as to how Emperor John IV met his infamous fate. The first comes from a castle maid named Agatha who was one of the first to arrive at the scene. She claimed that one of the guardsmen who took part in the act, a man named Horge of Voron, said that John IV almost immediately took to insulting his betrothed and made a mocking display of asking his vassal for advice on how to “contain her.” Enraged, the King of Haense and the Marquis of Vasiland drew their knives and stabbed the boy Emperor repeatedly. The two guards rushed in, hearing the commotion and cries for help. Bursting into the room, they saw the bleeding, dying Emperor. He tried to beg for mercy, but King Andrik drove a knife into his heart and swiftly ended his life. The second comes from a sage in Chambery who purportedly proclaimed the Emperor’s grisly fate mere hours after it occurred, even though news had not yet reached the wider Empire. By his words, John IV was beset on by King Andrik, Brynden Vanir, and the two guardsmen the moment the door to the room was closed. He had little time to react, and much less to say anything, for he was stabbed multiple times and killed within seconds. The third comes from Hughes Pasquier, the Baron of Laval and the uncle and vassal of Count Eirik of Ayr. By his official report to the court of Ayr, which used information derived from various courtiers at St. Karlsburg, the Baron of Laval claimed that the conversation among the three men had begun peacefully, with the Emperor and the Marquis of Vasiland particularly concerned with defensive fortifications along the border with Urguan. However, as talks turned to matters of reconciliation between Haense and the Imperial Crown, King Andrik demanded the return of his sister to Haense as a prerequisite for any further talks. The Emperor refused, prompting King Andrik and Marquis Brynden to draw their swords. John IV drew his and a duel ensued that lasted a few minutes. The young Emperor put up a valiant fight, but still young and outnumbered by two men, he was felled. As he lay dying, he cursed the name of the Barbanovs and with his last breath damned King Andrik to a fate worse than his own. The specific details matter little, for the King of Haense had a version of his own that determined the course of action for his realm moving forward. He and Marquis Brynden dragged the Emperor’s body to the dining room of the castle. Courtiers and staff could not hide their shock as the two threw the corpse down before them. Queen Reza was said to have gone pale for the first time in her life and promptly excused herself to her chambers. Paying little attention to his stunned audience, the king loudly proclaimed that the Emperor was a danger to the Barbanov Dynasty and wider Haense. He listed the many abuses John IV had committed against Princess Juliya, and said that the deed was necessary to both avenge John III and prevent Haense from being occupied by the Imperial Legion and subjugated by the Crownlands. What began as a timid, anxious crowd was quickly won over by their liege. Agape mouths turned to cheers, and even the serving boys and girls were calling for King Andrik to summon the banners to defend the realm. With the mandate of his people, the king, notably without summoning a wider council, ordered all vassals of the realm make for St. Karlsburg with their retinues. All came save the Count of Turov, who met the call to arms with silene.Word was spread throughout the realm that Emperor John IV had been killed at the hands of the King of Haense, and his successor was implicitly dared to attempt to avenge his death. His successor would not, in fact, attempt this. John IV’s younger brother, Robert Henry, ascended the throne as Robert II. Refusing to heed the advice of his warlike councilors, the new Emperor rode north to Haense in order to try and bring a peaceful resolution to the conflict and prevent the conflict from spilling into open war. He arrived in St. Karlsburg on the 30th of Sigismund’s End, 1585, mere weeks after his brother’s death there, and met with King Andrik- alone- in the council room of Ottosgrad. Even less is known of this meeting than of the assassination of John IV. It is generally agreed by historians that Robert II offered a number of compromises, each supposedly in favor of Haense and none requiring the arrest, abdication, or execution of its king. With each offer, the king left the room and conferred with some of his vassals in an adjacent one. It can be assumed that few provided a voice of reason, save the Count of Metterden and Prince Karl, for many believed that the kingdom hungered for war. It is established that three offers were made to the King of Haense, though were possibly more, and all were rejected. Despairing at his failure to seek a peaceful end to the conflict, Robert II rode back to the Imperial capital where he would soon abdicate to his brother, Philip Frederick. Back in the north, King Andrik, at the urging of his principal vassals and the army, proclaimed Haeseni independence from the Empire before a cheering crowd in St. Karlsburg. He said that no half-measure could be taken to ensure the safety of Haense and his family, and so their overlords needed to be overthrown by a necessary use of force. Patrols were sent to scour the realm and arrest known Imperial sympathizers, save the Count of Metterden and the Count of Turov, while the Marquis of Vasiland was ordered to lead detachments of men to strengthen and reinforce all fortifications around the kingdom and block all roads leading in and out. Logs cut by Haeseni soldiers to prepare for the blockade of all roads into Haense in preparation for an Imperial invasion, c. 1585 The initial weeks of what was to be called the Deep Cold Uprising were the highpoint of the rebellion. With most of the realm trusting in their liege, men, women, and children moved swiftly to do what was needed. Weapons were made, fortifications were constructed, food was stockpiled, and the army and accompanying local levies began to swell with volunteers. The Count of Turov, along with a few other minor dissident lords, did not join the effort, but nearly all, including the previously-reluctant Count of Metterden, rallied to their liege’s cause. The following months began to show the cracks in King Andrik’s cause. Emperor Philip I, or more accurately his Archchancellor, Prince Leopold, Baron of Senntisten, chose not to march on Haense with the Imperial Legion, nor did they call for the Imperial vassals to raise their own forces. Instead, the Imperial Crown was wholly silent towards the northern rebellion. As weeks dragged into months, levied soldiers began to return to their farmsteads, mines, and logger’s camps. Men-at-arms and hired mercenaries came before the throne to question when they would be paid. Some of the high nobility complained of the lack of luxury goods that were typically imported from the rest of the Empire but were now cut off. While this did not completely drive the spirit from the nascent rebellion, it did dampen it. This is not to say that the Imperials were completely silent. Throughout the months of Owyn’s Flame and Godfrey’s Triumph, news began to seep through the guarded borders of the terms that had been offered by the now-abdicated Robert II. It was claimed that the terms offered a full pardon to all involved with John IV’s assassination, favorable trading rights for Haesne, the fight for Haeseni law to supersede most of the Imperial Law, save some exemptions, and the guarantee that Imperial soldiers would not be allowed onto Haeseni soil except at the express permission of the king or when guarding a member of the Imperial family. Whether these terms were true or not, a matter which has undergone some debate but now leans more towards truth than exaggeration, they confirmed the doubts that still held some few within Haense. Was there a just cause to this rebellion? Was the Empire truly such an imminent threat? King Andrik tried his best to squash rumors of the contents of the peace offer he had been given- but to no avail. Vassals and bannermen that had once been fervent supporters of the cause urged their king to make peace. Some even disappeared in the night, returning to their homes. Records of precise counts are difficult to come by, but it is believed that at the start of the Deep Cold Uprising, King Andrik had a host of eight thousand in and around St. Karlsburg. By the late months of the rebellion, the number had dropped to just around one thousand. The killing blow to King Andrik’s rebellion was the Olive Branch Petition, formally published in the waning days of 1585. After months of effective silence, Emperor Philip I and his council offered full amnesty for all in Haense in exchange for their king’s deposition. When news of this offer reached Haense, likely around the 17th of Tobias’s Bounty, it was only a matter of time before the cards fell. Blocked from trade with the south, the shops and studios of the urban artisans had been suffering. Kept from access to powerful Lotharingian steeds and hardy Westerlands oxen, knights had been forced to take to their feet and farmers had to pull their own plows. With the threat of the confiscation of their lands hanging over their heads, the nobility feared what would come of a losing war. The first to give in was the Count of Turov, though this was to almost no one’s surprise. A friend of the Empire and personally at odds with his liege, Sergei Kovachev announced his support for Philip I on the 19th of Tobias’s Bounty and ordered his army to occupy the Castle Voron, held by House Baruch. This prompted Count Eirik of Ayr to follow suit in order to protect his lands, and he and Baron Hughes of Laval joined the counter-rebellion on the 20th of Tobias’s Bounty. Baron Rasputin of Rytsburg also tacitly gave his support that same day when he allowed a small squadron from House Baruch to enter Rytsburg. As news of the rebellion’s faltering support swept across the realm, St. Karlsburg broke out into riots, forcing King Andrik’s dwindling army to be recalled into the walls to quell it. The final nail in the coffin came when King Andrik’s old friend, Count Demetrius, snuck out of the capital on the 22nd of Tobais’s Bounty with his household guard. He met up with his host and returned to Metterden, publishing a missive of his support for the Emperor along the way. It is said by Sergeant Hrolf, a Norlander who had risen in the ranks of the Ruthern guard, that the young count wept as he rode away from St. Karlsburg and refused to look back on the city. So great was his guilt that he betrayed his liege, yet his wife consoled him, telling him that it was necessary to save their livelihood. The only fighting of the rebellion took place on the 25th of Tobias’s Bounty. A small detachment of Barbanov freeriders under Prince Karl, numbering fifty men and women, skirmished with a combined Vyronov-Baruch force around the same size. After thirty minutes the Barbanovs retreated, suffering one dead and seven wounded compared to ten wounded in the other camp. The objective had been to retake Rytsburg, but with this having failed it became evident that King Andrik did not have the ability to project power outside of the capital and Vasiland. On the 27th of Tobias’s Bounty, Baron Ruslan Amador, who still remained loyal to his king, informed the remaining council, thinly-manned as it was by now, that his home of Mondstadt had fallen to the Ruthern army. By the 28th word was reaching the council that the combined armies of the Houses Kovachev, Ruthern, Vyronov, and Baruch, alongside many other smaller lords, ladies, and landholders, were now marching on the capital. A day later, King Andrik, in a final address given to his skeleton court, announced his intention to abdicate. These months had been stressful for King Andrik, and it was a wonder then, as it is now, if he even believed in his own rebellion. He had desired, above all, to protect those he loved. In killing John IV he had saved his sister. In rejecting Robert II’s terms he had saved his kingdom. Now, out of his own rashness, all that he cared for was at risk. However, he saw the one means to undo most of what had been done. By abdicating, he could save everything except himself, but that was a price he was willing to pay. On the 3rd of Sun’s Smile, 1586, he formally abdicated the throne of Haenseti-Ruska to his son, Marus, and named Prince Karl as regent to oversee the coming surrender and occupation. He then fled from his beloved St. Karlsburg, the place where so many early memories had been made, with Ruslan Amador and Brynden Vanir. The three rebels departed from the capital mere hours before the first detachments of Lord Kovachev’s knights reached the opened gates. Under the cover of darkness, the three fled west in the hopes of reaching Norland where they could find passage to Sutica, a state known for housing rouges and the like. In order to get there, they would have to pass through the Westerlands, a mountainous, sparsely-populated region that had been settled just two years before by Prince Leopold of Senntisten and his followers. With Prince Leopold off in the capital, attending to his duties as regent and Archchancellor, Andrik Otto hoped that they could pass through his seat, the small fort of Death’s End, without arousing suspicion. During their flight south, both of Andrik’s companions noted that what life had remained in the former king had now mostly extinguished. His eyes that once flashed with brilliance had gone dull. His fiery temper had surrendered to a great melancholy. The only talk that came from him was how he longed to see his son and daughter, his sisters, his brother, but now could not. When those fears turned towards never being able to see them again so long as he lived, he would ride ahead of the two and cry out to God, begging to know why he had been cursed. The blank sky did not respond, nor did the empty fields of the Empire’s frontier. On the 14th of Harren’s Folly, the three men reached the keep and its village that marked the westernmost extent of the Empire. Death’s End was a poor, mean settlement, by that time garrisoned by twenty soldiers and protecting farms and hovels for twelve families. The Pumping Piston Tavern, dearth of visitors, was where the rebels stopped for a drink. They wanted to rest their weary legs, fill their hungry bellies, and make back out on the road within an hour. Unfortunately for them, an architect hired by Prince Leopold, a Savoyard named Amadeus, had reached the settlement at the same time. He had previously worked with Andrik Otto back in 1578, where he was a member of the young prince’s commission that was sent to settle the Haense frontier. Recognizing Andrik, Marquis Brynden, and Baron Ruslan, the architect ran out of the tavern and screamed for the garrison. The three rebels tried to make an escape, but before they could get to their horses a group of ten guards ran from the castle and surrounded them. They were thrown in the cramped, dark cells of the keep and kept there as word was sent to Johannesburg of their capture. On the 21st of that month, Andrik Otto and his companions were taken back to Johannesburg, where they arrived on the 30th. He was treated well during his captivity, but when they arrived in the capital the three were separated. The former king and the Marquis of Vasiland shared some parting words as they were led to the great cells of the Palace of St. Adrian, though history has not recorded them and Lord Vanir refused to tell what had been said. Brynden Vanir was brought before the Imperial Court on the 1st of Sigismund’s End. His charges were read to him and he was sentenced to death by hanging, but before the execution could be carried out his old father, Fiske Vanir, intervened. Now a man of sixty two and the last living supporter of Petyr I through the Riga War, the Krajian Rebellion, and the War of Orcish Submission, he was revered by Haeseni as one of the architects of unification and was respected in the Empire for having been a loyal Imperial. Withdrawn from politics since his abdication in 1583, Lord Fiske was one of the few men who emerged from the Deep Cold Uprising with his reputation unscathed. He promised Emperor Philip that if his son was allowed to live, then he would emerge from retirement to repair Haense and ensure it was reconciled with the Empire. The Emperor, in want of friendly voices within Haense, agreed. The Marquis of Vasiland initially begged for his life to be taken, doubtless wishing to make himself a martyr to the cause, but his pleas were refused and his right hand was removed. He was then sent home with his father, for he was allowed to keep his lands and titles. Ruslan Amador was brought next later that same day. Although he too was found to be a traitor, he was considered the least significant of the three rebels. Two mills were confiscated and given to House Kovachev, while a logger’s camp and the small village of Banva were given to House Ruthern. The Baron of Mondstadt was content with these terms and rode back to Haense without complaint. On the 2nd of Sigismund’s End, 1586, nearly a year after he had killed Emperor John IV, Andrik Otto, once the King of Haense, was brought before Emperor Philip I. As the Imperial Court hissed and jeered, he was read his charges and given his sentence. For the crime of high treason, he was sentenced to death. The solemn Andrik accepted his fate with a nod and did not try to protest it, but when he looked around for the noose or the headsman’s block, nothing was to be seen. The grisly, haunting fate of Andrik Otto was recorded by Vitallius de Sola, Count of Lewes, ten years after the event in 1596. "At the signal of the Archchancellor, the hall fell silent. All that could be heard was the shuffling of servants and the opening of doors as the materials were gathered. Certain individuals, I will not name them, told me of what was to come, but I had regarded it as nonsense. Surely this boy [Emperor Philip I] had no stomach for such a deed. But when I saw the logs assembled and set ablaze, then heard the scraping of a great metal tub as it was dragged down the palace steps, I almost choked on the thought of what was to come. Some in the hall gasped when they saw what was to come, though I believed then, and still now, that they did not know half of it. The tub was put over the flames. Then great canisters filled with milk were poured in until it reached about two thirds full. By this point it was gravely apparent, and what had been an excited crowd to see this young King’s death had now turned to horror. The King, who had been stoic and faced his death bravely, as had been expected of this known soldier, was bewildered at the sight before him. Removed of all but his plainclothes, he spat curses at the throne and the House of Horen, proclaiming its downfall. He promised that, by his blood, this would be the last great victory of Philip I, and while St. Karlsburg would live, Johannesburg would burn until it was ash. The Emperor simply remarked, quite cooly for one of his age, that no blood was to be spilt at all. Then, with a wave of the hand, he gave the order. Bound by his hands and feet, the King was hoisted above the tub of milk, which had been put over the flames and was now boiling, by four servants. At the word of the Archchancellor, he was dropped into the tub. I could almost hear the searing of his flesh as it was peeled and seared from his bones, but the screams of the King were far louder. They silenced the hall, pressing upon us like the howling winds of a storm over the plains, but none had even attempted to make a sound. Some fainted, others fled the hall, my own wife buried her face into my chest to avert her gaze, and I clamped my hands over her ears the best I could. As he boiled alive, the King thrashed and wailed, for the level of the milk was no higher than his stomach. Eventually, after a few moments, all fight was lost, and he plunged into the tub and was from then unseen, for we were all told to depart from the hall by then.” Andrik Otto, only months before Andrik II, King of Haense, died in the Imperial Court, boiled in a tub of milk. He was twenty one years of age and had ruled Hanseti-Ruska for, like his father before him, just shy of four years. News of Andrik’s death was met with outrage in Haense. Although most of the country had overthrown their liege and could reasonably conclude that doing so would mean his death, his manner of execution was cruel and dishonorable. Riots against the Emperor broke out in St. Karlsburg by the same people that had risen up in favor of him months ago. They were quelled within a few days by Prince Karl, reinforced by an Imperial garrison, but a lingering resentment remained between the people of Haense and the Imperial Crown. It would become the task of Prince Karl, Count Demetrius, Count Sergei, and Fiske Vanir to mend what had been broken. The first step towards reconciliation was made when Andrik’s body was returned to his homeland. In a procession led by Prince Leopold, the casket that held the former king was brought through the kingdom along the way to the capital. Although the great crowds that had been present at King Petyr’s procession four years earlier did not manifest, a great many thousand still came and wept for their dead king. For a few days the events of the past year were forgotten as all united in their mourning. On the 2th of Sigismund’s End, 1585, the body of King Andrik II was laid to rest in St. Karlsburg. Before a crowd of no less than four thousand, Princess Juliya gave a final speech for her brother. Not all of it is recorded, but some was recounted by a washerwoman sixty years later. "His love cannot be questioned, for it was as fearsome as it was warming to our hearts. For as long as I can remember, he stood to defend those he cared for and did not question the challenge he would face in doing so nor the consequences for failure. While his final act may have spelled his end, let none claim it was an act of cynicism. This great tragedy that engulfed him and our country was the result of a deed done in rash, foolish anger, yes, but also the purest sentiment that may allow one’s heart to overcome all rational thought in their mind. It is the thing that drives song, and may my brother’s never leave the lips of court singers and tavern bards alike until this world is brought to an end.” Queen Reza, now a widow (albeit to a husband she despised), was not present at the funeral. This is not because of their mutual dislike, for that would be an excuse so insufficient that the disgrace it would bring her would be so immeasurable that the thought would not even cross her mind, but because she was in labor. That evening, as her husband’s body was interred with his father’s, King Andrik’s final child was born. Named Otto Heinrik, the round, healthy boy was now the heir to a king that was not even two years old. This king, Marus I, could not have possibly known what he had inherited, nor the danger he was now in. All seemed well: the kingdom would soon mend and the greatest threat to the Empire’s stability since the Anarchy had been defeated. It seemed to many that this was a mere aberration in what had been several years of stability and peace within the Empire. Ten years later, all, including King Marus, would come to understand how hopelessly naive their idealism had been. Dravi, Andrik II ‘the Soldier’ 11th of Sun’s Smile, 1564-2nd of Sigismund’s End, 1586 (r. 4th of Sigismund’s End, 1582-3rd of Sun’s Smile, 1586) O Ágioi Kristoff, Jude kai Pius. Dóste mas gnósi ópos sas ékane o Theós. Poté min afísoume na doúme to skotádi, allá as doúme móno to fos tis sofías kai tis alítheias. O Theós na se evlogeí. The reign of Marus I shall be covered in the next volume of The Winter Crows. 18 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
yopplwasupxxx 5665 Share Posted September 23, 2023 The Winter King has one of my favorite stories out of the Haense kings +1 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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