The many Slavic tribes have gone their own ways, each seeking their own identity. But the Polanie along with the Wislanie, Pomorzanie and the Mazovians have banded together to form a commonwealth known as Poland. Under King Wladyslaw the Chivalrous these unified peoples have set out on journey of legacy and pride, seeking to etch a destiny of greatness and achievement in Europe. May the Christian God whom the have newly decided to worship show mercy to any that get in their way.
Dramatis Personae:
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King Wladyslaw finds himself the proud ruler of a proud people; but the Poles could be ever more proud. The commonwealth is surrounded by small independent kingdoms, many of them formed by rebels seceding from their rightful masters buying their independence with blood. In his own eye these “kingdoms” are ripe for invasion and subsequent colonization.
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Zbigniew Herman is the oldest son and heir of King Wladyslaw. Like his father, the Crown Prince believes the time has come for Poland to realize a destiny of greatness. A destiny of conquest. His eye is set on the East and North where the Slavic Rus have divided themselves in petty competitions of power by their Boyar. The Crown Prince sees this betrayal of the Rus people by their own nobles as a perfect opportunity for pre-emptive strikes on one dukedom after another.
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Prince Boleslaw Herman is King Wladyslaw’s second, and final son. He too strives for a better Poland and sees that competition with his brother over the throne is pointless and harmful to his people. Instead, he has applied his cunning and resourcefulness to raising an army of nobles and commoners to further Poland’s claims. As liege-lord of many of the poorer nobles he commands from the front and looks west where the germanic Holy Roman Empire and it’s enforcers the Teutonic Knights have lost their hold on many of their eastern provinces.
Thus has Poland begun to forge it’s own path.
Chapter 1: Forging a Path
Prince Zbigniew, heir apparent of the Polish throne stood in watchful silence. His father, King Wladyslaw, was bent over a map on the table, supporting himself with one hand while his other traced a finger over rivers and mountain ranges, roads and trade routes.
“When are you leaving?” asked the King.
“I ride in the morning - before sunrise - with my guard for castle Hylach. I link up with my forces there.” His father nodded, but Zbigniew could not see his face or eyes from behind, and he had never known what his father had ever been thinking.
“You still haven’t told me, in detail, what you plan to do. I trust you son and I know you seek to prove yourself worthy of the crown by individual achievement, but those are still my people you will be commanding, and whatever you do you do so under my authority. You will ride out only when I know your plan of action, which may be tomorrow morning, or on my death.” The King had laid down an ultimatum. Prince Zbigniew knew too that he had no grounds to argue as his father was completely right.
Approaching the table he took a quill pin out an ink well and drew a rough square inside an elbow bend in a river - he knew exactly the location of his target - and then ran his finger from the top-left to bottom-right of the region it was in.
“This area is called Iasi by it’s locals, but it fractured and in many areas pure anarchy. The largest power in the region is centered here” - he tapped the square - “In a motte and bailey the peasant militias who live there have started calling Iasi as well: A pretense at ruling the entire region instead of the small collection of villages and farms they actually control.” He continued talking, running his finger in a loop around the region’s borders.
“Once taken, Iasi ‘Castle’ will be our center for taking over the region by arms and colonization. This is our most important target”, he turned his head to look his father in the eyes, “Because if we can achieve this, all of it, we’ll effectively block any attempt by the Byzantine Empire to expand northeast into the Eastern Orthodox regions beyond.”
King Wladyslaw smiled ever so slightly.
With a start, Prince Zbigniew realized - though he hadn’t been paying attention earlier - that the rivers and road the King had been examining were the very ones inside Iasi and the mountains he had stopped on were the ones where Iasi bordered Byzantine and Hungarian lands - the very routes the armies of those nations would travel there by. The veteran and experienced King was proud to see his young and inexperienced son to be thinking his exact same thoughts. Coming from the King, that small, tight smile was an enormous compliment, as well as a form of congratulations. His tone had been curt earlier - he hated being second-guessed, but now his voice softened.
“If this is accomplished, if these goals are truly realized, then we can begin our expansion north and east into the Russian dukedoms.” Maintaining his miniscule smile his father nodded approvingly.
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“It’s not the Byzantines you’ll be worrying about.” he added. “The Slovaks” he never named Hungary, choosing instead to name the Slavic tribe who had founded it - “may have been slow to realize that Slavs can someday dominate Europe, but they have now and I know from reliable men that they have begun mobilizing and moving south. From Hylach it will be a race to Iasi.”
“Do you think it will come to war?” Zbigniew asked quietly.
“No. I’ve already sent your sister south as my personal emissary to the Slovak court. She’s to arrange an alliance with them, hopefully through marriage. If nothing they are honorable enough to trust.”
“But what about the Byzantine Empire? Surely they would move - Wait.” he checked himself. “South?” His father nodded.
“The Slovaks seek to rule Greece. I think they’re in for a long and bloody war. Though with the Turkmen to their West and the Slovaks pressing down on them from the North the Byzantines will seek some new allies. And preferably, it will be a Catholic nation instead of Orthodox or Muslim. With Catholics as their ally they can deflect the Church from displaying their ordeal as a religious war and thus not be swarmed in a deluge of Catholic armies.” The Prince’s eyes widened.
“Us.” He exclaimed. “They’ll want us as their ally so we can sandwich the Hungarians from the North!” King Wladyslaw shook his head. His son had gone in the wrong direction.
“We decline. The Slovaks cannot war against the ally of an ally and either they would break their alliance with us to continue their war -which we don’t want because we want our lands left alone - or they discontinue their war with the Byzantines, and if they discontinue their war that means the Byzantines and Slovaks both ply their attentions elsewhere…. And over time, alliances can be forgot.”
“I see.” Prince Zbigniew stood looking on the map while his father walked out of the room.
The King went to chambers for his nightly rest. He had taught his son a valuable lesson in planning ahead. He felt secure that his heir had received the lesson fully and would apply it in the future.
The Crown Prince stood looking over the map, and would stand there for hours yet, seeing the soldiers that marched across it… and the strings that pulled them.
