Nectorist 7424 Share Posted September 28, 2023 THE WINTER CROWS: Volume III; Marus I - The Unfortunate Written by Demetrius Barrow Marus I - The Unfortunate "The only thing that stood between the Conqueror and us is now a frost-covered ruin.” - Lukas Vanir on the Siege of Johannesburg The last thing a kingdom on death’s door needed was a boy upon the throne, so believed the weary men of Haense in the autumn of 1586. The monkey’s paw curled and their wish was granted: Marus I was too young to sit on the throne of Ottosgrad. Little can be said of the mere year and a half of Marus Andrik’s life that came before his sudden ascension to the throne in the wake of his father’s abdication. Born on the 12th of Owyn’s Flame, 1584, to King Andrik II and Queen Reza alongside his twin sister, Princess Katherine Aleksandra, Marus was fated to only have his brother, Otto Heinrik (b. 1586) as a true familial companion. The king would spend the early years of his reign claiming to have fond, vivid memories of his father as they played and laughed. In vivid detail he could describe being bounced on his knee or fed mashed peas from a gilded spoon. Near the end of his life, the drunk and depressed king admitted that he did not have a hint of a memory of his father. While there is not much to be said of the king during his earliest years, there is far more of the kingdom he reigned over and the men who truly governed it. His uncle and regent, Prince Karl Sigmar, himself only twenty, faced the impossible task of bringing Haense back into the Imperial fold in the aftermath of the Deep Cold Uprising. To assist him were the elderly, but respected and trustworthy Fiske Vanir and the mistrusted, but powerful and rich Sergei Kovachev, Count of Turov. The former had aided in brokering a peace while the latter had been instrumental in overthrowing Andrik II and bringing an end to the rebellion. Few others could be remotely trusted. Brynden Vanir, Marquis of Vasiland, was said to have been broken by his liege’s execution and the removal of his hand. He was unfit to sit on the council as he slipped into madness. Demetrius Ruthern, Count of Metterden, had betrayed his old friend in order to save his vast estates and properties. Although he claimed to not regret the deed, he soon developed a severe melancholy and refused offers to serve on the king’s council. Ruslan Amador, Baron of Mondstadt, reeled from the confiscation of many of his lands and pledged vengeance against the Rutherns and Kovachevs. Princess Juliya had departed the kingdom to wed Charles Martin, Baron of Wett, a bastard son of the former Emperor, John II. Queen Reza was despised by everyone. Outside of the capital, the rifts from the uprising remained. Families who had remained devoted to King Andrik’s rebellion quarreled with those who had joined Count Sergei’s counter-rebellion. These embers were not yet fires, but with the rebellion generally having been a bloodless affair, the passions of inflamed men and women could not be stoked by any loss they had suffered. The higher lords did their best to keep order but did not always do so fairly, nor always with great speed. To make matters worse, there was no stable head of the Empire who could see matters through. The Year of the Four Emperors had brought another boy to the throne, Emperor Philip I, who was far too concerned with ensuring the Empire’s strong image was still projected abroad to discourage outside opportunists from testing its depleted strength and questionable unity. His Archchancellor, Prince Leopold, was frequently in the Westerlands to settle the region. Prince Karl would find little help from the Imperial Crown, but it at least enabled him to act with some independence. The first order of business was disbanding the many militias and levies that were scattered about the realm. Alongside the Imperial Legion garrison, which numbered around five thousand soldiers, another four thousand, mainly the personal armies of the Haeseni lords, family retinues, and town guards, remained mobilized. No fighting among them had erupted, but Prince Karl wished all the same to prevent the possibility of it. On the 4th of Horen’s Calling, 1586, the regent announced that all non-Legion soldiers were to stand down and return home. Some grumbling came from those made to lay down their arms, but there was no serious resistance. Next came the necessary reconciliation with the nobility of the realm. Those who had supported King Andrik’s rebellion abominated the regent and his council for their betrayal of the late king. Those who had opposed the rebellion resented the Emperor for the cruel and humiliating execution of the late king. It was here that Fiske Vanir proved his worth, for he had incurred no great disdain from either faction due to his neutrality, so he was best-fit to spend the rest of that year traveling around the realm to ensure that peace was kept and the law was upheld. An uneasy stillness fell over the realm for the next four years. The regent and his advisors performed ably in managing much of the daily administration while repairing many of the fractures in Haeseni society. Some resisted, such as Hektor Brawn, a minor lord in the service of House Kovachev, who had been an ardent supporter of Andrik II and feuded with his liege over his betrayal of the Deep Cold Uprising. Others, such as Ruslan Amador, Prince Karl’s father-in-law, returned to the central government to continue their service. Sergei Kovachev’s death in 1589 was the first significant blow to the regency. He had been a strong ally to Prince Karl and had spent nearly all of his time in St. Karlsburg, leaving the management of Turov and his other estates to his son, Henrik, who came to succeed him. Although he had followed in his father’s footsteps in opposing King Andrik’s rebellion and promised to maintain his loyalty to king and Emperor, Henrik Kovachev spent more focus on growing his estates and turning Turov into a city that rivaled the capital. To appease the new Lord Kovachev, Prince Karl granted him the Duchy of Carnatia, returning the title to the family it had initially belonged to. Contented, Duke Henrik also accepted the position of Lord Chancellor and began to split his time between Turov and St. Karlsburg. Fiske Vanir died soon after in 1590. Aged sixty six, he was the last of the great lords who had fought alongside Petyr I throughout his wars of unification. The kingdom mourned greatly for the former Lord Protector of the Carnatian League, but none more than the regent himself. Lord Vanir had been a most capable man whose wisdom was heard by almost all. There was no replacement for him. Part of what made Fiske Vanir’s death such a loss for the kingdom was due to information that the Haeseni Crown had been receiving from the Imperial administration since the spring of 1589. By then, Philip I was nineteen and of age to rule on his own. Owing to his status as a third son, he had been untrained in the craft of ruling an Empire, and by the time of his ascension he had grown too arrogant and prideful to heed advice from anyone besides his Archchancellor, Prince Leopold of the Westerlands. What he lacked in knowledge he far made up for in ambition, and he desired to complete his father’s conquests. Through the reigns of John I, John II, and John III, the great enemies of the Empire had been conquered or at least greatly reduced. All that stood by the spring of 1589 was the Kingdom of Urguan. The Urguanites had been encouraged by King Andrik’s rebellion in 1586, but its quick failure and the subsequent strengthening of the Emperor’s authority struck fear into their hearts. Knowing that a unified Empire would turn its eyes towards them for conquest, they had begun to give lands to the snow elves and the orcs, openly inviting many enemies of House Horen while engaging in more furtive talks with others. Spies of the Nauzican Brigade had informed Emperor Philip of these migrations, which stood in clear violation of the terms signed at the end of the Eighteen Years’ War. By 1589, he had informed his vassals that preparations for war against Urguan were being made in order to finish his father’s work. Crownlanders, Haeseni, Savoyards, Westerlanders, and Lothairingians would join ranks for the first time since the War of Orcish Submission. Even the elves of the Dominion of Malin were called to follow the Empire in what was to become the final great war, that which would unite the continent and stamp out all threats to the forces of order. The regent and his council did not take the news well. Their king was not yet five and thus far too young to lead an army. Prince Karl was not a military man and had only fought in a minor skirmish in his brother’s uprising. Count Sergei was dead, Duke Henrik was too old, Marquis Brynden had gone mad, and no other lords either possessed the necessary experience or commanded the necessary respect to lead the army. Only Fiske Vanir had both, and therefore he was chosen to lead the Haeseni contingent when it came time for the invasion of Urguan. That is why his death in the middle of 1590, mere months before the invasion was set to begin, was so devastating for Haense’s fortunes. With no other options, Prince Karl reluctantly assumed command of the Haeseni host. On the 20th of Owyn’s Flame he called all of the banners of the realm to join him. The crow of Barbanov, the Griffin of Kovachev, the Mountains of Ruthern, the Bear of Baruch, the Wolf of Vyronov, the Cross of Amador, the Elk of Pasquier, and dozens of other standards and sigils fluttered proudly in the cold northern winds as an army seven thousand strong marched south to meet with the Imperial Legions and other assembled armies of the Empire. Only the Sea Serpents of Vanir were not present, for they had been tasked to guard Haense’s eastern border with Urguan, as Emperor Philip’s invasion was to take place through the south where resupply from the Crownlands would be easier. The details of the movements, battles, and other actions of the infamous Coalition War (1590-1595) shall only be described in the most general of terms, and only as they bear some relevance to Haense. The history of the Johannians is to be left to others. On the 2nd of Tobias’s Bounty, 1590, Philip I led an army of forty five thousand into the Kingdom of Urguan and towards the great Mount Gorgon, where the Dwarven-Snow Elven-Orcish army or around thirty thousand awaited them. After several days of maneuvering, battle was made on the 9th. With Prince Leopold of the Westerlands, a reliable general, holding actual command, the battle was well-fought and eventually won over the course of ten hours. The enemy army was scattered and fled to the keep atop Mount Gorgon. Prince Karl and the Haeseni had not necessarily distinguished themselves in the fight, but they had not brought shame either. Stunningly, Emperor Philip chose not to follow up on his victory, even against the advice of his war council. Prince Karl, knowing little of strategy himself, wrote to Duke Henrik calling the Emperor’s decision a “...foolish choice that is the natural consequence of someone of his disposition having authority over the direction of his campaign.” While the regent’s bewildered thoughts were not shared to his fellow commanders, they are now shared with historians who continue to debate the reason behind the Emperor’s withdrawal. The army disbanded for the winter of 1590 and did not reconvene until well over two years later. It was another great strategic blunder by the Imperial high command, but it did allow Prince Karl to return home something of a hero, as crowds gathered in the Haeseni capital to warmly welcome their countrymen back home. In a small ceremony, the young King Marus named Prince Karl the Count of Bihar, though it took at least four attempts for him to say the words correctly if the account of Adam of Friedland, the political theorist, is to be relied upon. By this point, King Marus, who has been quite absent from his own history, was grown enough that some details of his early life begin to appear in the sources. With much of the leading nobility off on campaign with his uncle during the Coalition War, the king’s upbringing was mostly left to his mother, Queen Reza, and aunt, Princess Tatiana. With the former an enemy of most of the kingdom and the latter busy with her own children, King Marus was raised far better than one could expect. In between her infamous fits, his mother taught her son letters and numbers by herself, and the constant gaggle of priests in Castle Ottosgrad filled in the gaps of his knowledge. Try as he might to remove the queen’s influence from her son, Prince Karl rarely had the time or availability to see that his orders to keep his hated rival from the king were enforced. Many of the traits that King Marus became known for manifested in his early days. He was quiet and dutiful, and on one occasion, according to Adam of Friedland in 1592, “... so upset Father Dmitry with his silence during his tutoring, much like I was at his age, that he was instructed to scream from the window of his room each night so loudly that all of the capital would think him a wolf howling at the moon, much like I did after eating the red mushroom in the Cave of Enlightenment. He did as instructed, and each night the town heard his howl. He remained soft-spoken, much like myself, but was no longer an unresponsive pupil.” He was also prone to fixations on oddities, as Father Harald of Turov noted in 1597: "His Majesty has become enthralled with the movement of caterpillars along the ice that gathers at his windows that he has kept a great many in a glass container that he made. One side of it is dirt, the other is ice. He watches the movements of the caterpillars on the two surfaces and takes note of the differences that he spots. He informed me a week ago that he intends to build a container that can fit fifty two different surfaces so he may note the differences for each.” He had a fondness for eating so ceaselessly that he grew rotund at a young age and remained that way until the end of his life. While never bloated or incapable of walking about the city or riding a horse, he was portly and stout in stature. Kitchen payment rolls confirm this, as he hired culinary experts from across Axios to sate his curiosity for exotic delicacies. Other bills of purchase show that, on average, he spent nearly three percent of all Crown revenues on food by 1599. Despite Marus’s apparent happiness, which was well-noted, as he truly loved his mother and the priests of the castle and spoke fondly of them even in later life, the Empire continued to fall into a habit of repetitive mistakes. After his abortive invasion of Urguan in 1590, Emperor Philip planned to march on orcish lands, which lay far to the east and were a mere cluster of tribal huts and wooden forts strewn about inhospitable lands that the dwarves readily settled the Krugmarian Horde on. There was little value to the conquest of these lands, but none could dissuade the Emperor, who cited a desire to put an end to orcish slaving practices, from his decision. Unfortunately, the erratic Imperial government had caught wind of a plot against the Emperor led by Jon Renault de Savoie, Duke of Savoy. The Savoyards had long been enemies of the Crownlands and House Horen since the time of the assassination of King Guy de Bar, but had mostly been obedient since the Taxman’s Conspiracy in 1546. Why the Duke of Savoy chose now to oppose the Emperor, or to what degree a true plot existed at all, is still a matter of historical debate. What is important to Haense is that this investigation took the greater part of a year, with Philip I himself suspending the invasion so that he could personally partake. Meanwhile, across eastern Haense and the northern Crownlands, dwarven and snow elven raiding parties clashed with border garrisons, fanning the flames of ire and malcontent. By the end of 1591, the Emperor made the belated decision to summon the Duke of Savoy to Johannesburg to personally affirm his fealty to the Imperial Crown. On the 28th of Tobias’s Bounty, Jon Renault arrived with his retinue, but he refused to bend the knee and assaulted the throne room of the Palace of St. Adrian in an attempt to kill Philip I. The attack failed and the Duke of Savoy was executed. The Duchy of Savoy was officially dissolved and partitioned, with the Archduke of Lothairingia receiving the titular Duchy of Savoy and Prince Peter Sigismund, second son of the Emperor who was mere months old, being given the former Savoyard lands under the Duchy of Mardon. The Savoyards did not appreciate being dispossessed of their lands, nor did the execution of their duke sit well with them. They entered into open revolt against the Empire and pledged themselves to the Urguanites as they rallied under the banners of Houses de Savoie, d’Aryn, and Crast. Undeterred by this, Philip I informed his vassals that the planned invasion of Krugmar would continue. By the end of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1592, the great hosts of the Empire, save that of Savoy, had reunited in Johannesburg and set off from the capital in a great parade. Little to the Emperor’s knowledge, much had changed over the past year. The death of a minor, childless nobleman in Lotharingia, John Vimmark, had led to disputes among those eyeing his many properties. The specifics of this may be skipped, but it is important for the student of Haeseni history to know that Tobias Staunton, son of Duke Alexander of Courland, he who so bitterly opposed the Carnatian League in the Riga War and the Empire in the Krajian Rebellion, came into possession of the tiny castle of Ostwick. What was not tiny was the amassed following of Courlanders that he was now leading, and in a great ruse he took possession of this castle and from it proclaimed the birth of the Kingdom of Courland and promised to topple the Empire. Few regarded this upstart’s proclamation seriously, save Prince Karl. As a son of Haense and Petyr I, he knew well the danger that Courland could pose. He urged the Emperor and his council to abandon their plans against Krugmar and instead march to take Ostwick, but he was ignored. Ever-dutiful, he did not protest and swiftly returned to his soldiers, though not without a great pit in his stomach, fearing that the worst was to come. Prince Karl Sigmar, founder of the Bihar line of House Barbanov and regent for Marus I, c. 1592 Had they listened to Prince Karl, the Imperial high command may have avoided the disaster of the Battle of the Gorge, fought on the 12th of Sun’s Smile, 1593 in a hot, arid mountain pass into the desert lands of Krugmar. With just under forty thousand soldiers at their command, the Emperor and Prince Leopold felt confident in their chances of victory, for the army they faced was a motley assortment of thirty thousand dwarves, snow elves, orcs, Courlanders, and Savoyards under the command of Tobias Staunton. Marching towards a small orcish war camp, the Emperor confidently announced to his soldiers that victory would be had and the orcs subjugated again. Mere minutes after his speech, the sights of the banners of the Axionite Coalition were spotted by freeriders. Tobias Staunton, the greatest general of his age, was far more than a match for any of the Imperial commanders, even Prince Leopold. With the gorge serving as a funnelneck, he was able to negate the Imperial manpower advantage while his orcish soldiers conducted flanking maneuvers and threw boulders from the sides of the ravine. After a few well-timed avalanches, the Imperial army was in disarray and began fleeing from the battlefield. It was here that Prince Karl, fateful in his early predictions, fell during the rout. Despite never wishing to be a soldier like his brother or father, the regent of Haense no doubt made them both proud. The last eyewitness accounts of him unanimously agree that he stayed behind with the Barbanov house guard and the levies of House Kovachev to delay an advancing Courlander division to buy the rest of the Imperial army time to escape. Legends have it that Tobias Staunton and Prince Karl personally dueled on the battlefield for fifteen minutes before the former cut down his dynastic enemy, but there are no sources to attest to this. Most likely, the Count of Bihar, who had dutifully served his brother, then his nephew, all without sedition, corruption, or complaint, died anonymously on the field of battle with the thousands of other Imperial soldiers. His body was never recovered. The impact of this great defeat cannot be overstated. The tide of war had now shifted decisively in favor of Tobias Staunton’s coalition, and the vassals of the Empire began to wonder if victory could be achieved. Haense, far from the east where most of the campaigning was being done, had far less to fear, but that is not to say there was no suffering. Of the seven thousand that marched from St. Karlsburg, five and a half thousand returned, and of those few had emerged from the battle without injury. The regent had died, as had many other young noblemen, and the only man who could fill this void, the Duke of Carnatia, had lost almost all of his own levy. King Marus, still only seven, had little comprehension of the scale of this defeat. When news of the defeat at the Battle of the Gorge arrived in Haense, the streets of the capital flooded with tears of despair. Despair turned to mourning as the army returned by the end of Harren’s Folly, bringing with them the bodies of the dead and wounded. In a surprising turn that was uncharacteristic of him, the young king chose to walk the streets with his mother and talk with the children whose fathers and mothers had been casualties of the battle. It was a touching gesture from a king who possessed great kindness, yet was rarely one to express it so outwardly. In this time of uncertainty and trouble, it was perhaps the most effective act anyone could take to ensure the crown’s stability, for he earned the adoration of the people of Haense with that deed. The Duke of Carnatia immediately took control of the government and was named regent. Despite possessing little military experience himself, the dire circumstances abated much of the animosity towards him from the nobility and people of Haense. He quickly formed a new army of around six thousand and prepared to join the Imperial Legion in the march on Ostwick. After his great defeat, Emperor Philip decided to heed the advice of the late Prince Karl and eliminate King Tobias’s seat. A new offensive was announced for the spring of 1594 and preparations were made accordingly. Unfortunately for Philip I, it was a decision made too late. By this point, King Tobias was drawing support from all corners of the world, and his army only grew while the Empire’s shrunk. When rumors swirled about the now-paranoid Emperor Philip that Archduke John of Lothairingia was planning to join the coalition, he effectively made the choice for the man by ordering the Imperial garrison in the Lotharingian capital of Metz to take over the city and arrest any and all traitors. This simply drove the Archduke d’Amaury and most of his nobility into the arms of King Tobias, who welcomed them eagerly and turned his armies towards besieging the Imperial-held Metz. Now, in the beginning days of 1594, only the Crownlands, Haense, and the Westerlands, numbering some twenty five thousands, marched against King Tobias, his army just under forty thousand strong, in order to relieve Metz. This next campaign fared little-better, as at the Battle of the Goldfields on the 12th of Sun’s Smile, the Imperial army suffered yet another great loss. Unlike the Gorge, this was a severe and irrecoverable defeat, not just a mere setback, for over half of the army was dead, wounded, or captured. The Haeseni had disgraced themselves during the battle as their cavalry was thrashed by the Savoyards and their infantry on the right broke and fled at the climax of the battle. Duke Henrik returned to Haense after the battle to try and alleviate the political situation back home. It was evident to all that the war had been lost and the Empire would soon fall to King Tobias and his great army, which only grew by the day. The regency council of Mardon managed to flee Johannesburg with Duke Peter in hand, where they made peace with King Tobias and swore fealty to him. The Westerlands and many of the Crownlands vassals were released of their oaths by the Emperor. The Dominion of Malin withdrew their armies from Oren and signed a peace treaty with the coalition. By the end of Sun’s Smile, only Haense remained as part of the Empire, but this too would come to change. On the 26th of Sun’s Smile, though dates ranging from the 15th to the 31st are found in sources, the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska was released from its vows to the Holy Orenian Empire by Philip I, marking the first period of Haense’s independence. Peace was quickly made with King Tobias, who promised Duke Henrik that he only cared about taking Johannesburg and the Imperial Crownlands. It was to Haense’s fortune that peace had been made so soon. Only four thousand of their six thousand strong army returned to the north alive, and had they been in Johannesburg in 1595, the war’s final year, they would have perished in the thanium explosion that Emperor Philip had set to ensure that he and the capital were destroyed before they were conquered by the coalition. While Haense was now independent, free to chart its own course, the price had been dear. Thousands had died in the war, no outside aid could come from the networks of the wider Empire, and there was no protection to be had against an ascendant Courland. By good fortune, Tobias ‘the Conqueror’ held to his word, as instead of turning against Haense he sailed south to conquer the Imperial colonies on Asul. By 1598 he had completed this and had his capital, Aleksandria, constructed there. Quite ill-fittingly for the occasion, and a matter that is of great misfortune to any historian, it was decided by the higher nobility of Haense that King Marus needed to be wed despite still being a youth. His mother protested on the grounds that he was far too young, but the decision was made to have him marry Adelaide Ruthern, daughter of Count Demetrius of Metterden. This match was most likely made due to the Ruthern’s vast business empire and the wealth they extracted from it, though the destruction of Johannesburg had eliminated a critical market. Due to the costs the Royal Crown incurred from the war, they needed to secure funding to pay off their debts, which could be done through a hefty dowry on the part of House Ruthern. The wedding was held on the 5th of Harren’s Folly, 1595. Lady Adelaide, only a year older than her to-be husband, bawled and nearly ran from the cathedral, but was pulled back in by her father. The king was similarly pale, and looked to be close to vomiting, but he kept his composure and proceeded with the ceremony. Despite the intention of it being a happy occasion, one to forget the horrors of the past five years, the many empty seats in the temple, left for the missing in the hopes that they would arrive, could not be obscured, nor could Queen Reza’s utter disgust. The wedding was performed quickly and without splendor, and a large dinner, but no great feast, came after. The king was still young, but was now of age to begin some of his more formal tutoring and training on how to fulfill his duties. This began with learning many of the ceremonies and traditions that he would have to partake in as king. His coronation on the 12th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1595, served as a practical lesson for him. Despite being only nine, and accompanied by his mother during the somber ceremony, the boy-king held himself well and showed no signs of fear or shyness as he was crowned. According to Adam of Friedland, this soon changed as King Marus was taken back to his room hours after the ceremony, where he held his collection of seashells to his chest to calm his nerves. The next great challenge in his life came with his mother’s death in 1596. Deprived of a father at an early age, Marus I had always looked towards his mother for guidance and advice, even if she was not the most learned. A great void overtook the boy’s large heart, and it would never be filled. He stayed locked in his room for a week in sorrow, refusing food, water, or the presence of anyone. When he finally did emerge, he only attended the necessary functions he needed to as king, and only consulted with the Duke of Carnatia over some matters of state, which he had begun to show a greater understanding of. Records also have it that, despite their youth, the royal couple had their first child, Prince Petyr Mark, on the 3rd of Harren’s Folly, less than three weeks after Queen Reza’s death. He was a sickly child and the nurses feared he would not survive the night of his birth, but by the morning his crying still rang through the halls. Although this author would suspect that the official accounts are flawed or tampered in some manner, and Petyr Mark’s birth actually came some years later, there are no means of verifying this. The good news of his son’s birth did draw the king out of his reclusiveness, but it did nothing to bring him near his queen. Their marriage was not as volatile as his mother and father’s had been, but it was cold, distant, and almost forgotten. Queen Reza’s protests were no doubt true: married too young, King Marus and Queen Adelaide were simply unready and unprepared to play the role meant for them. The birth of the couple’s second son was the last known instance of any interaction between the two. Again, according to doctor’s records, Prince Stefan Karl was born just over a year later on the 15th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1597. Far healthier than his older brother, it is said by the nurses that he tried to bite everyone who held him when he was born. Another legend has it that when he was born, two birds descended from the sky and flew through the nursery window of the Castle Ottosgrad. The first, a mourning dove, landed on the cradle of Prince Petyr. The second, an eagle, landed on the cradle of Prince Stefan. For three days and three nights the birds perched over their respective princess, motionless as they did not sleep, eat, or drink. On the fourth morning, the nurses entered the room to find the mourning dove dead by exhaustion and the eagle gone. A painting of a mourning dove by Carolus Wallis, a painter sponsored by King Marus, who was known to be a patron of the arts, c. 1599 It must also be noted that in 1597, Demetrius Ruthern, Count of Metterden and father-in-law of the king, took his own life. He had betrayed his oldest friend in order to keep his vast empire of businesses and properties, many of which were lost with the Coalition War. The guilt of such a decision no doubt weighed heavily upon him. His son, Boris, just a boy, succeeded him. Despite the mild happiness the birth of his two sons brought, further challenges plagued the king’s rule. House Brawn continued to be a thorn in the side of Turov, and with the virtual destruction of the Kovachev forces in the Battle of Goldfields, what had begun as petty insults hurled at soldiers turned into bolder confrontations and attacks. With the feud with the men of Houndsden turning deadly, the Duka of Carnatia resigned his post as Lord Palatine and regent in order to return to Turov to deal with the situation. To succeed the capable duke, in 1598 Lukas Vanir, the mayor of St. Karlsburg, was named Lord Palatine and regent by the council. Already sixty five by the time of his ascension, Lukas Vanir had served Haense since before the kingdom’s formation, as he had fought alongside his brother, Fiske Vanir, through all of Petyr I’s wars. Although he had accrued a good reputation as the commander of the levy of House Vanir and as an officer in the War of Orcish Submission, he had mostly been an obscure figure until his unexpected victory in the St. Karlsburg mayoral race of 1592, which saw his only competitor withdraw after a stunning defeat in the first debate. As mayor of the capital, Lukas Vanir oversaw the expansion of the city’s tax base, guard force, civil officials, and welcomed thousands of refugees from Johannesburg and other parts of the Crownlands, settling them in the suburbs and farmsteads surrounding the growing city. As an experienced soldier and a successful administrator, the new Lord Palatine began implementing new policies to strengthen Haense. House Brawn’s unruliness reflected the same decentralization and disunity that plagued the Empire in its darkest hours, and Lukas Vanir had no intention of seeing Haense meet the same fate. Under the express permission of King Marus, the Lord Palatine embarked on a centralization campaign that saw the destruction of over seventy two prominent towns and villages across Haense and the resettling of those populations either in and around St. Karlsburg or Turov, which was too large to be dismantled. This was met with outcry from the Haeseni vassals, but Lukas Vanir had gambled that little resistance would manifest, given the general complacency of the lords of Haense and the fear that weakening the Barbanov Crown would invite Courlandic intervention. This gamble mostly paid off. To the surprise of few, least not the Lord Palatine, the Brawns of Houndsden, who themselves owned two middling villages, resisted. Brawn men went beyond Turov and began to cause commotion within the capital, which often ended in arrest or expulsion after a brawl. Although open rebellion was not yet their option, it was an open secret that Reeve Brawm, son of the late Hektor Brawm, was maintaining contact with the King of Courland, as the latter sent his nephew, Meric Staunton, to monitor the situation. Meric Staunton, the official emissary of King Tobias, was an ill-liked man in Haense, and his presence in the court of Ottosgrad was likened to an Imperial agent. He was a persistent advocate for House Brawm, and he frequently implied that to weaken the Brawn’s would not be seen favorably by Courland. As Courlandic narratives allege, the Lord Emissary’s championing of the Brawm cause was met with hostility by the people of Haense. On the 10th of Harren’s Folly, 1599, he was slain by the Haeseni Minister of the Interior named Diedrik Barrow who, despite not having been seen by anyone else in St. Karlsburg that day, was labeled as a known conspirator against Courland by King Tobias and his officials. Lukas Vanir did not believe any of this for an instant, and he urged King Marus to allow him to draft an accusation in response, for he believed that Prince Maric had been assassinated by agents of the Conqueror in order to give himself justification to launch a punitive invasion against Haense. In one of the few disagreements he had with his trusted Palatine, and an early display of his growing resolve, King Marus refused, and instead calmed the situation by writing back to King Tobias and offering apologies and the return of his nephew’s body. Deprived of a casus belli, the King of Courland was forced to accept and delay his invasion of Haense lest it come across as naked aggression. The date of the assassination of the Duke of Carnatia is imprecise, dated at either 1599 or 1600. While official Haeseni history puts Henrik Kovachev’s death at the 15th of Owyn’s Flame, 1600, and the Siege of Houndsden from the 29th of Owyn’s Flame to the 25th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1600, recent discoveries may put 1599 as the correct year. This mainly comes from rolls of conscription from House Vyronov dated to 1599. Given the quickly-assembled army and the brief siege itself, there would be no reason why House Vyronov’s forces would have had to be assembled for a whole year. This author shall use 1599 as the official date, but it must be noted that this contradicts official narratives. Returning to the narrative, the assassination of the Duke of Carnatia, the infamous deed occurred on the 15th of Owyn’s Flame, 1599, as stated previously. He was visiting the capital at the time in an effort to appeal to the Haeseni court and request a formal intervention against the Brawms, who were now outright raiding farmsteads sworn to the Kovachevs. Much like Meric Staunton months before, Henrik Kovachev’s body was found on the streets, and sources confirmed that the men who drove daggers into his back wore the hound of House Brawm. The assassination of the former Lord Palatine only furthered the realm’s collective outrage against the Brawms. They had barely tolerated their raids and overtures with the King of Courland, but assassination, especially one they took no care to hide, could not go unpunished. Even the normally peace-loving King Marus was in agreement that House Brawm presented a clear internal danger for the kingdom and needed to be dealt with forcibly. On the 17th of Owyn’s Flame he formally stripped them of all lands and titles, named them traitors to the realm, and ordered the Lord Palatine to raise an army. The Kovachevs, most desiring to enact revenge against the Brawms, were the quickest to answer the summons. Duke Sergei, Duke Henrik’s successor and the husband of Princess Katherine Aleksandra, King Marus’s sister, was still a boy. Franz Kovachev, his distant cousin and a known rogue, was given the rights of regency by the family and allowed to lead the armies of Turov. Without waiting for the Crown’s assistance, he and a force of one thousand Kovachev soldiers marched against the Brawms and scattered their disunited raiding parties. By the time Reeve Brawm could consolidate his forces and order a retreat, Franz Kovachev had killed or captured two hundred rebels. Outmatched and knowing that soon the armies of Haense would gather, Reeve Brawm retreated to Houndsden and sent frantic letters to the King of Courland asking for assistance. By the 29th of Owyn’s Flame, 1599, the Kovachev armies invested the Brawm keep and put it to siege. Over the next weeks, Lukas Vanir directed the various lordly levies of Haense to Houndsden to join the besieging army and led the Barbanov host himself. He arrived by the 10th of Godfrey’s Triumph, and by the 12th of that month the Haeseni army numbered around six thousand, while the Brawms had only eighteen hundred to their ranks. With the royal army growing in number by the day, Lord Brawm knew that his only hope was Courland’s intervention, and so his letters continued in fervor. However, the Lord Palatine had suspected that the Conqueror may try and make his play while the bulk of Haense’s forces were distracted. Fortifications along Haense’s southern border were built and manned by an additional two thousand men. His concerns were well-placed, as on the 20th of Godfrey’s Triumph a small Courlandic party, led by Prince Svenald Staunton, father of Prince Meric and Chancellor of Courland, was seen scouting the border between the two kingdoms. He made no incursion, no doubt due to the reinforced defenses. With no assistance from Courland, and now against an army of nearly ten thousand, Reeve Brawm could hold out no longer. On the 25th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1599, he surrendered unconditionally to Lukas Vanir and the rest of the Haense army. In all, some two thousand Brawms were killed or captured during the brief rebellion. Thirty Kovachev soldiers were killed or wounded, while one levyman from House Pasquier was killed by a stray arrow shot from Houndsden. The Lord Palatine’s handling of the siege was masterful, and both House Barbanov and House Kovachev had regained some of their lost honor from the Coalition War. King Marus initially wished to spare the men of House Brawm and exile them from the realm, but the Lord Palatine fiercely argued that they needed to be put to death. After nearly a week of debate within the royal council, King Marus relented and gave permission to his trusted regent to execute all of the principal leaders of the rebellion. King Marus, though not having participated in any of the fighting due to his age, had observed the Siege of Houndsden from a safe distance and thus was given official credit for the victory. In honor of this, a feast was thrown in St. Karlsburg at the beginning of the year 1600 to mark both that and the new century. Despite their victory over the Brawms, the king and his Lord Palatine knew that it did not mean peace would last long. It was evident that Courland had favored the Brawms and were poised to intervene on their behalf. On the 8th of Sun’s Smile, 1601, King Tobias himself along with Prince Svenald arrived at Metterden to meet with King Marus and Lukas Vanir. The summit, ostensibly to avoid war, did anything but. King Marus accused King Tobias of fomenting rebellion within Haense to weaken the realm, King Tobias belittled King Marus for his age, the Lord Palatine questioned why Prince Svenald had an army stationed in the desolate lands of the former Orenian Crowlands, and Prince Svenald said that the return of his son’s body did not go far enough in terms of reparations from Haense. News of this meeting could not be kept from spreading, and soon the peoples of Haense and Courland clambered for war with the other. By the spring of 1601, it seemed that only King Marus and the Lord Palatine wished to avoid war, for both were keenly aware of the ruin it would bring. Few followed their train of thought, though, and soon border skirmishes began to take place between Prince Svenald’s army and the soldiers of House Ruthern. King Marus urged his brother-in-law, Count Boris of Metterden, to exercise caution, but he did not command a cessation of hostilities. It seemed that even the peace-loving king had resigned himself to the fact that war was inevitable. He quietly authorized the Lord Palatine to begin strengthening the defenses of the realm and to bolster the Barbanov army. The point of no return was reached on the 12th of Sigismund’s End. House Ivanovich, vassals under the Duke of Carnatia, were among the fiercest warhawks in the kingdom. With Duke Sergei still just a boy, unable to exercise proper control, and his regent, Franz, occupied with other matters, the Baron of Godansk, Otto Ivanovich, sent his brother, Arpad, with twenty men to capture Princess Annabelle of Courland, daughter of Prince Svenald. The mission was successful, and on the 4th of Horen’s Calling Arpad Ivanovich and his men returned with the Courlandic princess in chains. Having lost one son to Haense, and now faced with losing a daughter, Prince Svenald intensified his attacks. Towns and farms were raided and burned, caravans were seized and plundered, and access into and out of the kingdom from the south was prevented. King Marus tried to order the Baron of Godansk to release the Courlandic princess so that war could be prevented, but these attempts were half-hearted, for he had not the will to oppose what all of his vassals desired. He made a final attempt to broker some peace on the 5th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1601, by sending his brother-in-law, Count Boris of Metterden, to Aleksandria. Before he could even reach King Tobias, Lord Ruthern was seized outside the gates of Courland’s capital and beheaded to a cheering crowd. The worst had come out of his entreaties, and King Marus and the Lord Palatine faced little other option. The king was now sixteen, and with the end of his regency there was no excuse for inaction or the perception of weakness from him. On the 13th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1601, he sent King Tobias an ultimatum demanding the withdrawal of all Courlandic armies from the Haeseni border, reparations for Count Boris’s murder, a formal apology from the Conqueror, and the promise to never encroach on Haeseni sovereignty again. Although an ultimatum such as this was almost certainly what the King of Courland wanted, the King of Haense had no choice but to issue it. A depiction of lightly armored horse archers in the Haeseni army, c. 1602. Units such as these were unfortunately rare in a war that demanded Haense pursue innovative strategies Unfortunately for those who wanted war, Haense was ill-prepared for it. The cream of the nobility of King Andrik’s generation was now mostly dead, and left behind were young, unprepared sons. Furthermore, King Marus’s early ascension had created a barrier of sorts between him and his principal vassals. A crown prince was able to meet with the lords and ladies of the realm without the burdens and duties of kingship, something that, as seen in the previous volume, King Andrik used to great extent. King Marus never had that opportunity, and while he was well-liked, he had never built the close relationships needed to instill undying loyalty among his subjects. Lukas Vanir had tried to compensate for this through his centralization programme, but by 1601 it was only partially complete. The disastrous consequences of this were evident by the summer of 1602, far before King Tobias and his army reached Haense. Viktor Ruthern, Count of Metterden and younger brother to the late Boris Ruthern, rose up in revolt against the King of Haense, fearing the dispossession of his family if Courland achieved victory. Franz Kovachev was next, as he took power from Duke Sergei and named himself Duke of Carnatia, with many of his supporters being former Brawn soldiers and vassals. He also declares in favor of King Tobias, no doubt hoping to benefit from the war. Other vassals of Haense remained formally loyal, but when the Lord Palatine summoned the kingdom’s banners, only ten thousand had rallied in St. Karlsburg. Some were engaged around Metterden and Turov, where civil war had effectively broken out, but others simply refused the call to arms. The kingdom’s shortcomings in diplomacy were also exposed by the Great Northern War. The Kingdom of Lotharingia, the Kingdom of Mardon, the Kingdom of the Westerlands, and the old vassals of the former Imperial Crownlands all chafed under Courlandic domination, but none had close ties with Haense. Inquiries were sent to all to gauge interest in a great rebellion against King Tobias’s rule, but all were denied. Some volunteers from the Kingdom of the Westerlands and the Kingdom of Mardon came, and in all three thousand from outside of the realm joined King Marus’s cause, but when word came that King Tobias had hired the same number of dwarven mercenaries what brief hope this gave was diminished. On the 4th of Horen’s Calling, 1603, word reached Ottosgrad that King Tobias and an army of over twenty thousand had landed in Tahn and were marching north. Agents of the Haeseni Crown also notified the war council that thousands more were being trained and prepared to reinforce the main host. With this information in hand, the Lord Palatine concluded that the best chance at victory was meeting King Tobias’s army as quickly as possible before more troops could be added to his ranks. With the Courlandic army defeated, Haense could then turn back and deal with the rebels in its own ranks who, despite the initial shock of their uprising, had failed to gain much ground since the previous year. With Lukas Vanir in command, the Haeseni army, numbering around thirteen thousand, marched south to face King Tobias’s army of twenty thousand. As they left the streets of St. Karlsburg, cheering crowds sent them off, elatedly believing that a great victory over the despised Courlanders was soon to come, and the yoke of tyranny would be overthrown. King Marus, though only in nominal command, joined the army as well, and as he led the banners of his fractured kingdom to meet the Conqueror, he was hailed by his subjects for his bravery and defiance. A few weeks later, the two armies met on the plains west of the ruins of Johannesburg in the former Imperial Crownlands. After a few days of maneuvering and skirmishing, with neither side wishing to make the first assault, King Tobias finally arrayed his army on the 5th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1603, and prepared for battle. The Battle of the Elba proved as disastrous as Lukas Vanir had feared, and stands as one of the greater defeats in Haeseni history. Outnumbered greatly, the Lord Palatine hoped that the quality of his cavalry could make up the difference, as despite the disparity in the two armies, their cavalry wings were similar in number. If the Courlandic knights under Prince Svenald could be driven from the field, he would have better control of the battlefield. For this task, he gave his nephew Brynden Vanir, Marquis of Vasiland, he who had stood by King Andrik in the Deep Cold Uprising years ago, his full faith. With few other subordinate commanders of merit, the Lord Palatine himself, seventy years old, donned his armor and prepared to lead the infantry. His competence in military matters did not keep the Lord Palatine from making a woeful mistake in choosing the Marquis of Vasiland as his commander of cavalry. Far from the dashing, bold knight that he was in his early youth, Brynden Vanir’s failures in his rebellion with Andrik, which led to his beloved friend’s death and the loss of his hand, had broken him. Never a match for Prince Svenald, Lord Vanir had no hope of ensuring the victory that his kingdom desperately needed, and it is here that historians question the Lord Palatine’s judgment, with accusations ranging from nepotism to incompetence, though it is more likely that he was desperate for anyone with command experience and turned to the one of the few men who possessed any of it. Regardless, this choice meant that the battle was decided in its first moments. As the three thousand Haeseni riders came thundering towards the four thousand Courlandic knights, the infantry in both ranks held their breath. The shine of armor glowed brightly that morning as one, two, then three passes were made between the cavalry units. Charge and counter-charge came from both sides, but within ten minutes the Marquis of Vasiland, fearing that the battle was already lost, fled the field. It is said that he did not stop riding until he had reached the safety of Haense. With their commander fleeing, confusion swept through the Haeseni cavalry as other units began to chase after the marquis. Ten minutes after Brynden Vanir’s flight, the banners of the many lords and knights of Haense either fell to the ground or disappeared in the forest going north. What few remained pulled back behind the safety of the infantry, who themselves braced for impact as the Courlandic cavalry, hardly bloodied, made their advance. The main host under King Tobias followed slowly, and three units of infantry spread out, moving to envelop the Haeseni army. At this point, it was known that the battle was lost. King Marus was advised to flee with his retinue and he obliged, making for the safety of his kingdom. The Haeseni infantry met the Courlandic riders boldly, and for some time held firm, but as the Conqueror and his own foot troops arrived, this resistance turned for the worse. Being surrounded on three sides, thousands of Haeseni broke and fled, and those who remained were captured or killed. The Lord Palatine saw the futility in remaining, so he ordered a retreat to those who could and withdrew from the battlefield himself. Others were far less fortunate. Caught between the three prongs of the Courlandic army, thousands surrendered. The scattered pockets of resistance were mopped up, and within an hour of the opening engagement King Tobias had thoroughly routed his northern foes. Some four thousand Haeseni were captured, with another five thousand killed, wounded, or missing. Two hundred Courlanders had been killed during the fighting, and another thousand had been injured. The victory was so complete that King Tobias needed little time to rest his army, and the march north resumed. To circumvent the Haeseni border defenses, King Tobias struck a deal with the King of Urguan to allow his army free passage through the dwarven lands. Instead of south, where Lukas Vanir had assumed the Courlanders would strike, he and King Marus received panicked messages from the Marquis of Vasiland on the 7th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1603, that the Conqueror’s army was coming from the east. With the remainder of his army, now numbered some six thousand five hundred after emergency conscription, the Lord Palatine raced north to try and reinforce Vasiland before King Tobias could get there. He was not quick enough, though, and on the 16th of Tobias’s Bounty, he arrived to see twenty four thousand Courlanders, dwarven mercenaries, and Ruthern and Kovachev levymen. The Siege of Vasiland was another sorry affair in what had been a disastrous war so far. Brynden Vanir, with a garrison of some five hundred, had little hope in repulsing the Courlandic army, so he attempted to surrender to King Tobias in order to keep his lands. According to Adam of Friedland, Princess Tatiana, the marquis’s wife and King Marus’s aunt, did not wish to suffer the stain of dishonor for surrendering, and threatened to fall on her sword if her husband capitulated to the enemy. When the marquis still attempted to surrender, his garrison, inspired by his wife’s words and not wanting to betray their kingdom, threw their cowardly lord over the walls and onto the spikes below. Thus ended the life of a man who showed great promise, much like King Andrik, but had not been given death at the height of his dignity, and thus squandered his second chance at life with disgrace. Despite this initial encouragement, the death of the Marquis of Vasiland did little to affect the final outcome. Lukas Vanir was simply unable to break the Courlandic siege lines to get to Vasiland, and the defenders of the keep could not hope to break out. By the 2nd of Sigismund’s End, 1604, King Tobias started making preparations for the final assault. On the 9th, he divided his army into two. Seven thousand under Prince Svenald would assault the keep, while seventeen thousand under himself would engage the Haeseni host under the Lord Palatine. The Battle of Curon came on the 11th of Sigismund’s End, 1604. Facing impossible odds, King Marus and his loyal Lord Palatine both knew that the coming fight would be for honor, not for victory. With no cavalry, the royal army formed into pike squares to ward off the Courlandic riders. Their hope was that, if Vasiland could hold, they might be able to fight the main army to a standstill and force some of Prince Svenald’s men to be sent to the battlefield, depriving him of available units to assault the walls. At first, this strategy bore some fruit, as the five thousand Courlandic horses were unable to break the pike squares and some hundred were killed trying. This did not last long, as King Tobias withdrew them and brought over three trebuchets and ten ballistae that were being used in the assault of Vasiland. He turned this siege weaponry on the exposed Haeseni squares, which made for east targets, and had his artillerymen fire at will. A great cascade of bolts, rocks, and other projectiles slammed into these pike squares, killing a great many. The Lord Palatine ordered his men to hold their ground despite what came, and so they did. This show of bravery was only temporary, and when the Haeseni army saw the flags of Courland being raised over Vasiland in the distance, the bulk of the army simply dropped their weapons and surrendered. King Marus, Lukas Vanir, and a handful of other noblemen and personal guards managed to escape the field and flee back to St. Karlsburg, but the whole of Haense’s army had been destroyed. Two thousand were killed in both the Battle of Curon and the Siege of Vasiland, while the remaining five thousand were taken captive. Six hundred Courlanders were killed or wounded in the simultaneous engagements. No loyal army was left in Haense, and the path to the capital was undefended. In the span of a few months, King Tobias had thrashed Haense and destroyed its army. Courlandic raiding parties scoured the realm, rebels in Turow and Metterden took control over large swathes of the kingdom, and a blockade placed by Courland deprived the kingdom of many of its necessary food shipments. Bread riots broke out in St. Karlsburg as the hungry populace demanded an end to the war. By the 11th of Horen’s Calling, nearly all of Haense had been subjugated by the Courlandic, Ruthern, and Kovachev armies. As the Conqueror and his host, nearly twenty thousand strong, marched towards the capital, King Marus and Lukas Vanir agreed that they had no choice but to make peace. The Peace of St. Karlsburg, signed on the 13th of Horen’s Calling, 1604, stands as the greatest humiliation in Haense’s history in what was its darkest chapter. The Kingdom of Haense was formally dissolved and all lands and titles of House Barbanov were stripped. Franz Kovachev was named Archduke of Akovia and became Governor of the North for a Courlandic kingdom that now spanned the size of the former Empire. The royal family was sent into exile in the neutral Kingdom of Mardon, and nearly all vassals of the realm, save the rebellious branches of House Kovachev and House Ruthern, joined them. Those properties held by the exiles were confiscated and doled out to King Tobias’s supporters. King Tobias had one final blow to deal to his northern foes. On the 18th of Horen’s Calling, all citizens of the capital were forcibly removed from the city and told to either depart for the countryside or remain outside the city walls. A procession was held where King Marus and the royal family, forced inside carriages, were paraded outside of their home as they made their way south to Mardon. Adam of Friedland writes: "The many thousands who gathered wept openly as the young, sorrowful king pressed against the glass windows of his finely-decorated cage. Women and children huddled together for warmth as a great snowfall, fitting for an occasion as hopeless as this, set in. Try as they might to return to their homes for food, fire, or additional clothing, the soldiers guarding all entrances to the city refused to let them pass. After nearly an hour, the king’s carriage, and the golden crow mounted above it, became obscured in the distance. It was then, as we all turned back to return to our homes, our tears frozen to our cheeks, that we found the city had been set ablaze. Columns of smoke and great forests of fire overtook the city. Some screaming figures ran in, trying to rescue children, household objects, or anything else, but as the cold fire raged for hours few returned. By the time it subsided, leaving a husk of what was once St. Karlsburg, an officer of King Tobias Staunton’s army came before us all and announced that we must relocate to Turov or any other settlement in the realm.” King Marus did not witness the destruction of his city, but two hours into his carriage ride south, he was informed of King Tobias’s revenge for what had occurred at Riga some forty years earlier. He cried out in dismay and attempted to turn the cart around, but Lukas Vanir urged him against it. There was nothing he could do now, and to return could mean his death. With great reluctance, the young king buried his face in his arms and silently relented. A few weeks later, he and his entourage, comprised of the Barbanov family and most of the Haeseni nobility, arrived in Mardon. For the remaining seven years of his life, King Marus, who never ceased to call himself King of Hanseti-Ruska despite the terms of the Peace of St. Karlsburg, was kept in comfortable confinement. Allowed to walk freely around the palace of Auguston, the home of King Peter of Mardon, Marus contented himself with dining and hunting with fellow courtiers, many of which included the former nobility of Haense, as well as occasionally venturing out into the streets of Auguston to mingle with the commonfolk there, earning their devotion and love as he had back in St. Karlsburg. Although he never forgave himself for the loss of his kingdom, and forever pined for a return to his old home, he seemed far more at ease now than he ever had been. It was also at this time that he was able to spend time with his family, which he had been in great want of during his rule, for he rarely had an occasion to do so. While never the wisest father or brother, he was loving and devoted as he could be given the circumstances: he simply had not been allowed to be anything but a king, eternally detached from those below him despite his desires otherwise. Princess Katherine Aleksandra would later remark that she would trade Haense again for the few years she was able to spend with her brother. The two spoke at length about the arts, which both shared a passion for, and with their wealth they sponsored a number of painters, musicians, sculptors, and playwrights in Mardon. King Tobias even allowed them to send some of their funds back to Haense to promote creators of art there, and they happily took that opportunity. The only one of his family he could never reconcile with was his wife, who died unhappily in the autumn of 1609 from a wasting disease. King Peter of Mardon had declared his independence back in 1601, but due to his realm’s poverty and small army, King Tobias had mostly ignored this in order to focus on the greater threat in Haense. With that now dealt with, he turned his attention back to the rebellious Mardonites. In 1607, King Tobias and his army returned to Mardon to conquer the final realm that still resisted his rule. Much of the kingdom was overrun throughout the year, despite the many Haeseni volunteers that bolstered the floundering Mardonite army. On the 15th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1607, the Conqueror culminated his final campaign at the Battle of the Blackwater, where he thoroughly thrashed the rebel army and forced King Peter to return to the Courlandic fold. In the fighting, Count Eirik of Ayr and Baron Hughes of Laval perished. Watching the battle some leagues away from the ramparts of the palace, King Marus lost heart as the last hope for resistance against the undefeated Courland died on the fields of the Blackmarsh. Over the past years, he had received many letters from loyalists within Haense begging for their king’s return. Franz Kovachev was a cruel, abusive governor who confiscated properties at will and filled positions of authority with loyal relatives. With the rebuilt Kovachev army, he had Haense under constant surveillance and brutally crushed any hint of rebellion through violent action, warranted or not. King Marus’s heart broke as he heard of the plight of his former subjects, but he feared that returning to Haense would only start an unwinnable civil war that would see the realm be thoroughly destroyed by the Conqueror and his limitless armies. Some relief would come to King Marus, who was slipping into a great depression by this time despite his earlier spirits. On the 12th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1608, a year after his final war, King Tobias Staunton died after a long fever. The feared Conqueror who had brought the world to his heel was dead, and now he would no longer be the great foe to all civilized humans that those of the former Empire regarded him as. His successor, his son Joseph, was young and lacked his father’s natural charisma and intelligence. The regency council that governed the realm in his name had great difficulty keeping the overextended Courlandic empire together. There was some hope that a general uprising would overthrow Courland’s power, but it did not come. All that came were letters for King Marus from his old subjects, still pleading for him to return and throw off the Archduke of Akovia’s tyrannical rule. Despairing at his inability to anything but watch the world he knew change for the worse, King Marus took to heavy drinking. His health deteriorated over the next years, as did his mood, and by the winter of 1610 he was bedridden. King Peter of Mardon sent his finest doctors and surgeons, but his condition did not improve. On the morning of the 15th of Sun’s Smile, 1611, the King of Haense stirred some, sparking hope in those around him that he was on the road to recovery, but it seems to have been a last gasp at life. Fifteen minutes later, he was dead. He was twenty six years old and had ruled Hanseti-Ruska for fifteen years, with seven of those spent in exile. As he was laid to rest in the graveyard of Auguston, a sizable crowd came, though it numbered in the hundreds, not the thousands as had been the case for his father and grandfather. Still, the spectators grieved as was owed to the young king, and Lukas Vanir, his loyal, capable Lord Palatine, gave a final eulogy. Some of it has been preserved today: "Although he may go down in history as the king who lost Haense, I can only hope that his goodness and generosity exonerate him of that flaw. It was by no fault of his own that he was born into a fractured realm, in an Empire on the brink of destruction, and facing forces of destruction that consumed all. Our’s is a cruel world, as our present state has made clear. It is not a world meant for kind young boys to sit a throne, or young maidens be forced to be mothers before they are ready, yet still these evils manifest. I desire a means for a change of this order, even if the outlook for such a remedy to our human condition is bleak, for it will mean that Marus Andrik would have been able to play with his siblings in the halls of our now-burned Ottosgrad, or been a valiant knight trained with other squires his age, or have been able to learn the methods of rulership so he was prepared for its harsh reality when he ascended to the throne. It is a great tragedy that fate gave him no such opportunity as all children ought to have.” Most tragically of all, King Marus had died mere months before the war to liberate his homeland was launched in earnest by those who had not forgotten him. Resistance to Franz Kovachev’s harsh rule was only growing, and House Ruthern was prepared to avenge the grave sins they had committed against their late liege regardless of the consequences they may face. Although none knew it yet, the coming war between House Ruthern and House Kovachev to decide the fate of Haense was nigh. Dravi, Marus I ‘the Unfortunate’ 12th of Owyn’s Flame, 1584-15th of Sun’s Smile, 1611 (r. 3rd of Sun’s Smile, 1586-15th of Sun’s Smile, 1611) 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 Petyr II shall be covered in the next volume of The Winter Crows. 17 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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