Chapter 87 The Bloody Verdict of Metz (The Saga of Emperor Theodoric II, Part 2)
Chapter 87
The Bloody Verdict of Metz (The Saga of Emperor Theodoric II, Part 2)
The Basilica of Saint Peter to the Nonnains - the oldest Church in Frankland, survived the Seige of Metz (698) and remains in use to the city's Arian Christian community to this day
Imperial Palace, Ravenna
March 698
“The problem,” Theodoric II stated as he paced before his throne, “is that Frankland must be destroyed.” He stated that last line in classical Latin, before repeating it in Gothic for the sake of those less acquainted with the classics.
The reaction of his council was mixed. There was a smattering of hearty cheers at the declaration, some dry awkward coughs, and even a few wry smiles. Many of those on the council had known Theodoric since he was a young prince, and well knew his enthusiasms and near manic energy when he became worked up. They had seen him, after his loss to the Franks, throw himself into military matters with the gusto of twenty lesser men: he trained with his men, yes, that was to be expected, but he had also been found pouring over Caesar’s Gallic Campaigns, accounts of Alexander the Great, histories of the Peloponnesian War and many others. Many no doubt felt that his desire for war was a youthful fancy, driven by his newest enthusiasm.
Lucius, however, was not one of those cheering or smiling. Of all the men in the room, he knew Theodoric better than any, and knew fully well that this was no mere fancy. Their first night together, still retreating from King Sigebert Langenbart, Theodoric had blamed himself for the loss; his inexperience had lead his men into a trap, their blood had been on his hands and he had vowed to never let that happen again. Other men would have grown timid and over cautious, unwilling to take risks with their soldiers. But Theodoric was not other men; even over the course of the last two years, Lucius had come to realize that basic truth. One day, some months later, Lucius had come upon Theodoric training with the sword and spear – deep winters in Ravenna were not as harsh as those further north, but they could still be damp and cold. As night descended, the temperatures had dropped below freezing, and yet Theodoric continued training. Lucius had had to practically beg him to come inside before he collapsed from exhaustion and the cold.
Which meant, of course, that Lucius knew that the Emperor was not joking and simply giving vent to his frustrations. He meant every word. And that was the cause of Lucius’ unease. Certainly Theodoric was one of the best informed military commanders alive, and he knew how to command the loyalty of his men – his victory in the recent revolt had proven that. But crushing a minor rebellion was different than going against a seasoned and willy commander with decades of experience beneath his belt. And that same exuberance which had lead him to train to relentlessly could, and likely would, lead him into danger.
her words, Lucius was afraid. Afraid that Theodoric was act rashly and get himself hurt – or worse.
“My lord, is that wise? Sigebert has not raided our lands for the past two years and he is growing old. Perhaps it is best to wait; he will eventually die, and it’s likely his sons will fall into fighting amongst themselves as the Franks always do. That should give us many years of peace.”
“My Lord? Really Lucius? You know you have permission to call me by name,” Theodoric said with a laugh, stopping his infernal pacing for a moment.
This was met with laughs from the council and more than a few knowing smiles shot at the two. If Theodoric noticed them, he preferred to ignore it, but Lucius found his brow crowned with a heat which seemed to radiate down through his cheeks and neck. At first, Theodoric had been worried that their relationship would be noticed; but after two years that fear seems to have left him. Lucius did not share his lover’s confidence – he knew full well that his position was dependent upon the Emperor’s favor. As long as the Empire prospered, he was safe – their relationship a quirk that the reiks and people could allow. But should fate turn against them, and the Empire fall onto hard times, he would be the first one blamed and sacrificed to appease that demon-bitch, Fortune. Theodoric wasn’t the only one who read his histories, afterall.
“Theodoric,” Lucius said carefully, “I apologize. I forget myself. But my point still stands.”
Theodoric nodded and listened. It was one of the things that Lucius loved about the young man; he always listened. Even when he obviously disagreed, as he did in this case, even when his brain was running five times as fast as an average man’s, he always listened to what others had to say. And then he would spell out his logic to you; and usually, by the time he was done, whoever he was speaking to would find themselves nodding their head and agreeing that he was in the right.
“No. I used to think that way as well. I know that many here,” at this Theodoric looked away from Lucius and cast his eyes over the council, “think that I am being rash, or driven by a desire for revenge against that false-King. Fair enough. I do want revenge against Sigbert; not only for my own loss, but for the grief he has brought my family for many years! One of my own mothers lies in her grave because of that man, as well as a brother who I never met. But it’s not just that. If it was just revenge, I’d do as you say. But, I’m not. I am not Theodemir, willing to plunge this Empire into war just to seek vengeance for wrongs against me and my family.”[FN1]
And as those words passed his lips, Lucius knew with a certainty that they were true. Theodoric took his title of Emperor too seriously, held the lives of his men to be too sacred, to risk their lives for something as paltry as mere revenge. Not for the first time he wondered about this strange man he was in love with; at one time brash and given to enthusiasms and fancies, and on the other, willing to chill his own desires for the good of others.
“But the problem,” Theodoric continued, “is not Sigbert. Replace him, and another will rise up to take his place and do the same. The Franks and we Goths have been stuck in the same deadly dance for centuries. When we are strong, we force them to bend the knee and they play the role of good vassal. But the moment we grow weak or are distracted, they rise up again and raid our provinces, looting and killing. How many lives have been lost over the past two centuries? How many more will die over the next two? No. Frankland needs to be destroyed! It needs to be brought into the fold of the Empire, its will to resist broken forever more. Then, and only then, will be finally have peace, and will the ghosts – ours and theirs – be able to rest peacefully in their graves. Frankland needs to be destroyed!”
Lucius winced and sighed. Theodoric was doing it again, god dammit. No matter his own misgivings and fears, of which he had many, Lucius found himself nodding his head in agreement. The Emperor’s logic was sound; the Franks and Goths had been rivals since Theodemir the Great has slain Clovis in battle. Over two hundred years of men, resources and energy had been spilt in this god awful blood feud between the two peoples.
Looking around the room, he wasn’t surprised to see the majority of those assembled nodding their heads in the same manner as himself; reluctantly coming around to the young Emperor’s point of view. Lucius cursed under his breath; knowing full well that there was nothing to stop him now.
“Lucius,” the Emperor said, “can we have a word in private?”
Lucius looked up from his thoughts to see that Theodoric had left the dais and now stood in front of him.
“Of course,” he said.
“Good, I’m going to my study for a drink and I could use your advice.”
The two men left the assembled counsellors and nobles and made their way to the Emperor’s private study. Theodoric shut the door and walked straight to a waiting decanter, poured two glasses of wine and handed Lucius one.
“You have reservations,” Theodoric said, sipping from his glass.
“I think that that’s obvious. I don’t make a habit of disagreeing with you in public just for my own health. If you were anyone else, it would likely be very bad for that same health.”
“But I’m not anyone else, Lucius. I’m me; and one of the things I love about you is that you do speak your mind. So, speak. What are your reservations? I’d hoped you, or someone else, would say what you did so I could explain myself immediately, but I got so busy speaking that I never actually let you say what it was that was on your mind.”
“Why didn’t you mention any of this before,” Lucius asked, frustration entering into his tone.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you mention any of this to me before? I know you can make up your mind quickly, but something like a war? No. You’ve been mulling this over for a long time. But you never mentioned a word of it to me before a few minutes ago. I’d supposed to be one of your advisors, one of your generals, and you kept me in the dark.”
Theodoric actually blushed and bowed his head. “I,” he started. For a second it looked like he was building himself up to make another speech, but caught himself. Instead he took a deep breath, and as he did so much of the gusto and energy which he surrounded himself with simply evaporated, leaving him looking like nothing less than a young man called to task. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you,” he said.
“But you didn’t.”
“No. Listen, Lucius, I know you worry about me. Maybe you should; you saved my life once before when I got caught acting like a fool.”
“More than once,” Lucius said, though the frustration had vanished from his voice and a wry smile had taken the place of his frown
“Exactly. I know who and what I am, and so you worry about me. And you know how much you mean to me. It’s not just that you saved my life. You …” he trailed off, as if trying to find the correct word, “you temper me. I have these big dreams, and you’re the one who lets he chase them while keeping me tethered to the ground. I love you, yes. But it’s more than that; I value what you have to say, and I treasure your opinions. What you think of me … it’s important to me.”
Lucius nodded, not expecting this conversation to get so personal so quickly. “What does this have to do with you not telling me about your plans?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Lucius? I was scared that if I told you sooner, you’d try to talk me out of it. And you probably would have succeeded.”
Lucius stood, staring at Theodoric in shock for a second, not sure what to say or do. “So, you didn’t tell me because you were scared I’d talk sense into you?” He smiled and shook his head “Listen, I do worry about you and I always will. I know you! But I also know that there isn’t any other man I’ve ever met who I’d trust to personally lead an army. You’re capable, the men love you, and I know you’d never risk their lives without thought. I don’t worry because I think your plans won’t work; I worry because you feel so responsible to them and the Empire that you’d risk your life to protect them. And I don’t know hat I’d do if you got yourself hurt and I wasn’t there to step in and protect you. You’re always so busy thinking of your subjects that you don’t have anyone to look out for you!”
“Of course I do,” Theodoric stated. “I have you. And that’s all I need.” He sipped his wine again, before adding, “I’m sorry for not bringing you in earlier. But, as my chief advisor, I suppose you have every right to see what I’ve come up with so far.” He walked over to his favorite chair, throwing himself into it, “So, I’ve been exchanging letters with some of the chief generals in the Senate and Ga-Run and I think we can muster …”
Lucius nodded and listened; one part friend, one part lover and equal measures military commander. The plans were good, after all – but not so good that his input wasn’t needed after all … [FN2]
The Life of Theodoric the Fair
By: Witteric Un-tals
Translated and Edited by: Athelrad Edwardson
London: National University of Sexland Publishing, 1982
…
Following his defeat at the hands of King Sigbert, the Emperor returned to Ravenna. Though chastised at being bested by the old foe of his family, he was not broken in spirit. Instead, he dedicated himself to military matters, training with his armies, speaking to his generals and turning to the texts of those great men of the past. Forever at his side was his friend Lucius, for the two had grown close following the Battle of Beneuvre and were not said to be inseparable. Older and wiser than the Emperor, Theodoric trusted his friend’s counsel and relied heavily upon him during those years.
Then, during the Spring of the year of the lord Six Hundred and Ninety-Seven, a rebel amongst the Bretons rose up. For though Theodoric was beloved by the Goths and Romans both, there were still subjects of the Empire who viewed the Emperor as young and weak – and his loss to Sigbert only confirmed their suspicions. A Breton lord by the name of Warock raised the flag of rebellion against his rightful Emperor and sought to enrich himself.
Now, Theodoric wished to respond to this afront and was said to weep nightly at the tales of depredation and slaughter that reached him. “Poor benighted Jaille,” he cried, “shall the God who made us all finally take pity upon that land and stop the misfortunes which plague her year after year.” However, only a year after Beneuvre, he had at his disposal fewer soldiers than the previous season. But the lack of soldiers was made up for with the dedication and fury which beat in his breast at the thought of the rebel lord harassing the good Christians of Jaille. And so, raising what army he could, he raced north to give what aid and succor he could.
They would prove to be enough. After Beneuvre, Theodoric had famously pledged that he would make himself a stern man who could protect the realm, and had spent an entire year in pursuing that course. Now it would be Warock to whom he put the lessons of the past year into practice. The campaign was swift, for the Bretons were wholly unprepared for the fury of the Emperor’s wrath and the speed at which he descended upon then. The Breton lord had convinced his followers that the Emperor would be unable to respond within the campaign season, and even then that he would likely purchase peace, so soon after his humiliation at the hands of King Sigbert. Warock was mistaken.
The arrival of Theodoric caught the Bretons by surprise and they had not yet even finished the fortifications in which they hoped to wait out the winter and then hold off the Emperor in late Spring or Summer. Near a church to St. Denis, in the highlands of southern Brittany, Theodoric descended upon the rebels and ruthlessly cut them down. Then Warock was captured and brought before his sovereign lord and made to repent of his misgivings before being sentenced to death. His body was then hewed atwain and individual limbs were sent to tour the countryside so that the people would know that the brigand had been slain. [FN3]
…
It is likely that Theodoric’s experiences the previous year against Warock influenced his decision to go to war with Sigbert Long-Beard of the Franks. He now knew that he possessed the skills to command an army, and having tasted victory against one foe, he longed to return peace to Jaille for all time; and he knew that this could only be attained by the subjugation of the Franks. As he stated to his closest advisor, “Frankland must be destroyed,” for if it was not, then Sigbert’s heirs would return to harry the defenceless Christians of Jaille time and time again.
“The time has come for us to have true peace,” Theodoric proclaimed, “and put an end to these rebels and villains who put flame to our fields, who carry away our women and children, and who cut down our men like the reaper does to the wheat at harvest.”
And so he prepared himself throughout the winter and the spring of that year, exchanging letters with chief Senators and the Reiks of the Goths and grew up a force of 30,000 men. These were drawn from Senatorial Italy, Burgundy, the Gothic lands, Suebiland, Lombardy as well as Spania. Jaille had by this point been so mercilessly illtreated that Theodoric feared requesting any help from that land, for it was said that in all of Jaille no more than two dozen men could be found above the age of 16 and below 60 who were physically whole and able to fight. And together with these men, as well as his closest companions, Theodoric marched into Jaille to bring war to King Sigbert and the Franks. [FN4]
…
“The Flame Blazed and then Was Snuffed Out: The Kingdom of Frankland during the Reign of King Sigebert the Long-Beard” Journal of Restoration Era Studies, Vol XXI, No. 4 (1978)
By: Dr. Ingoberg Chilpretson
…
Theudebald records that when news reached Sigbert of Theodoric’s invasion, that he was moved to laughter. His experiences two years prior at Beneuvre had not convinced him that the Gothic Emperor was a true threat. Even Theodoric’s decisive victories in Brittany the year prior had done little to convince the Frankish King that the young man was a real threat – writing the action off as little more than sweeping common rabble and brigands from the field of battle. Perhaps this is why Sigbert’s response was so sluggish; rather than immediately calling his vassals and organizing them, giving him time to improve fortifications and prepare for the invasion.
Instead, Sigbert chose to gather his men and immediately set forth to meet the Goths head-on; no doubt convinced of his superior abilities as a commander and wishing to put an end to the invasion as quickly as possible. To his credit, Theudebald tells us that Sigbert was able to raise 20 thousand soldiers, many of them battle-hardened veterans from his previous campaigns, for the defense of his realm; perhaps indicating that rumors of his over confidence have been overblown in the centuries since the fateful war.
In any case, Sigbert Langenbart marched forth from the gates of Metz with every intention of quickly sweeping aside the upstart Emperor and, hopefully securing longstanding independence from the Empire. The 20 thousand Franks met the 30 thousand Gothic soldiers on the valley north of the market community of Novimagus. Both Theudebald and Witteric give surprisingly similar accounts of the battle, despite their own inherent partisanships. The narrow valley of the River Mose constrained the movements of soldiers and naturally favored the Franks who were on the defensive and held the river’s eastern bank.
Theodoric attempted to force his way through the Frankish forces, and when this failed after several hours of bloody fighting, the Goths began to retreat. The Goths and their Emperor were held in such low esteem by Sigbert and his Frankish commanders, that he either ordered his forces to pursue or else lost control of the men in their furor. However, Theodoric was well aware that his over exuberance had lead to a costly defeat in their last encounter and the retreat was a feint. While the fighting had been going on, a contingent of Gothic forces had ascended the wooded hillock to the east of the Franks, unbeknownst to their foes. As the Franks broke lines to pursue the retreating Goths, the flanking units descended from the hills, smashing into the Franks to disastrous effect.
For his part, Sigbert was not so easily bested and was able to restore order to the remains of his army and made fought an orderly retreat northwards on the long march back to Metz. Perhaps the war could have been ended right there, but Theodoric was still a young commander and despite the success of his maneuver, waisted valuable time in reordering his army before they too pursuit of their foes. This likely allowed the remains of the Franks to get a crucial head start; though the army heading northwards was a shadow of it’s former self, having lost between a third to half of its numbers in the day of fighting.
…
Sigbert’s arrival in Metz would have been traumatic to the citizens of the Frankish capital. Whereas a proud army had marched south assured of victory, the army which returned was broken – to the casualties of the battle now needed to be added those who perished on the long trek back. Furthermore, the King himself was not the man who had left on campaign some weeks earlier; he had been wounded in the fighting, and had also lost two of his three sons in the battle including his heir Sigbald. Despite this, if Metz could hold out, there was still a chance of victory, even if a costly one. Metz sat upon the southern bank of the River Mose, but fortifications along the northwestern bank could prevent the Goths from entirely encircling the city, allowing them to survive a long siege.
But it was not to be. The Goths arrived three days after Sigbert’s forces and quickly set out to besiege the Frankish capitol. At first, it seemed that the siege would favor the Franks, as Gothic efforts to cross the Mose were repulsed. However, in August, after a month and half of the siege, the Goths were able to land on the northern bank of the Mose and after heavy fighting, captured the fortifications, effectively encircling Metz once and for all. Meanwhile, the wound on King Sigbert’s arm began to fester and grew delirious, leaving command of the city in the hands of his only remaining son, Sigmund.
Then, on August 24th, the feast day of St. Bartholomew, Sigbert succumbed to his injuries and infection – the once great King who had brought the Franks to the apex of their power, died sick in his bed. Stories told later would tell that he died screaming in terror, begging a priest for protection from the ghost of his first wife. [FN5] And from there events moved quickly; having withstood the siege for over two months, the news of the king’s death shook the city to the core. A mob stormed the Kingly residence where they found Prince Sigmund, bound him and threw open the gates to the Gothic forces, offering to turn the young man over in exchange for mercy.
And so, on August 25th, 698, King Theodoric the Great entered Metz with his soldiers, bringing an end to the native rule of the Franks for the next three centuries. King Sigbert’s dreams of a free and powerful Frankland died with him, and though the Franks would rise from the ashes of his failure, they would do so in a form that would have been nearly unrecognizable to the fallen king. [FN6]
…
[FN1] The Goths would be more likely to see Sigbert and other Frankish rulers as Dukes. The Frankish leader’s taking of the Kingly title was a very purposeful thumbing of his nose at the Gothic Empire, and few in Ravenna would agree that he deserves that title.
[FN2] Hopefully my prose isn’t too hackneyed here. I really wanted to represent Theodoric and Lucius as being in an actual relationship and for said relationship to feel real. I’m not sure I succeeded; but wrest assured, any failure is mine and my clunky pen’s!
[FN3] Yeah, as much as Theodoric II is presented throughout this and the preceding chapter as a viewpoint character and overall the protagonist, it’s important to remember that he’s still an early medieval ruler and an Emperor on top of it. We shall see a great deal of his dedication to his people and Empire going forward, but we shall also see that he is most certainly a man of his time, possesses the Amalingian family trait of ‘wrath’ and is probably not the sort of man you want to cross (and if you do, you had best be sure that you know exactly what you’re doing …)
[FN4] This is a gross overstatement about the level of depredation in Jaille at this time. However, Jaille has not had a good last several decades – first you have King Sigbert’s initial raid/invasion during the 680s, coupled with a civil war in the region between two rival governments. Then the Franks returned in 695, and though this raid was abbreviated, it was followed by the rebellion of the Bretons and their raids in northern Jaille. Basically; unlike OTL where Gaul was the heartland of the Merovingian lands, here it has become a periphery, far from the central seats of power of the Gothic Empire, poorer and more decentralized than other parts of the Empire, and constantly being raided by enemies (or even friends!!!! The Bretons are technically Federates of the Empire, though they seem to forget this whenever is suites their interests). Poor Jaille; so close to the Empire’s enemies and so far from God.
[FN5] You know, the Gothic wife he strangled himself? Yeah. It’s safe to say that these events have left Metz with one HELLUVA good ghost story for centuries to come 😊
[FN6] There may be more than a little hyperbole in the while “no native dynasty in three centuries” bit. After fall, would the British consider the House of Windsor to be a native dynasty, just because they originally came from Germany? In either case, its safe to say that the goals of King Sigbert Langenbart came to an end with his death; and whatever comes next for the Franks is going to be very different than what he envisioned or dreamed of.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And we're back! This was a surprisingly difficult entry to write as I wanted to show some of Theodoric's personality and his relationship with Lucian while also moving the story ahead and showing the collapse of King Sigbert's Kingdom of Frankland (heretoforth known as the King-Who-F@^%ed-Around-and-Found-Out). I hope you liked it and I apologize for any rough areas. I also tried to stretch myself and show a bit of the military strategy; something I've shied away from doing much in the past. So if anyone has always critiques or criticisms of those sections, please let me know!
In our NEXT chapter, we shall look at the political ramifications resulting from the snuffing out of Frankish independence and watch Theodoric's efforts to consolidate his gains and the pitfalls that come from that (what? you didn't think it would be THAT easy, did you?)
The Bloody Verdict of Metz (The Saga of Emperor Theodoric II, Part 2)
The Basilica of Saint Peter to the Nonnains - the oldest Church in Frankland, survived the Seige of Metz (698) and remains in use to the city's Arian Christian community to this day
Imperial Palace, Ravenna
March 698
“The problem,” Theodoric II stated as he paced before his throne, “is that Frankland must be destroyed.” He stated that last line in classical Latin, before repeating it in Gothic for the sake of those less acquainted with the classics.
The reaction of his council was mixed. There was a smattering of hearty cheers at the declaration, some dry awkward coughs, and even a few wry smiles. Many of those on the council had known Theodoric since he was a young prince, and well knew his enthusiasms and near manic energy when he became worked up. They had seen him, after his loss to the Franks, throw himself into military matters with the gusto of twenty lesser men: he trained with his men, yes, that was to be expected, but he had also been found pouring over Caesar’s Gallic Campaigns, accounts of Alexander the Great, histories of the Peloponnesian War and many others. Many no doubt felt that his desire for war was a youthful fancy, driven by his newest enthusiasm.
Lucius, however, was not one of those cheering or smiling. Of all the men in the room, he knew Theodoric better than any, and knew fully well that this was no mere fancy. Their first night together, still retreating from King Sigebert Langenbart, Theodoric had blamed himself for the loss; his inexperience had lead his men into a trap, their blood had been on his hands and he had vowed to never let that happen again. Other men would have grown timid and over cautious, unwilling to take risks with their soldiers. But Theodoric was not other men; even over the course of the last two years, Lucius had come to realize that basic truth. One day, some months later, Lucius had come upon Theodoric training with the sword and spear – deep winters in Ravenna were not as harsh as those further north, but they could still be damp and cold. As night descended, the temperatures had dropped below freezing, and yet Theodoric continued training. Lucius had had to practically beg him to come inside before he collapsed from exhaustion and the cold.
Which meant, of course, that Lucius knew that the Emperor was not joking and simply giving vent to his frustrations. He meant every word. And that was the cause of Lucius’ unease. Certainly Theodoric was one of the best informed military commanders alive, and he knew how to command the loyalty of his men – his victory in the recent revolt had proven that. But crushing a minor rebellion was different than going against a seasoned and willy commander with decades of experience beneath his belt. And that same exuberance which had lead him to train to relentlessly could, and likely would, lead him into danger.
her words, Lucius was afraid. Afraid that Theodoric was act rashly and get himself hurt – or worse.
“My lord, is that wise? Sigebert has not raided our lands for the past two years and he is growing old. Perhaps it is best to wait; he will eventually die, and it’s likely his sons will fall into fighting amongst themselves as the Franks always do. That should give us many years of peace.”
“My Lord? Really Lucius? You know you have permission to call me by name,” Theodoric said with a laugh, stopping his infernal pacing for a moment.
This was met with laughs from the council and more than a few knowing smiles shot at the two. If Theodoric noticed them, he preferred to ignore it, but Lucius found his brow crowned with a heat which seemed to radiate down through his cheeks and neck. At first, Theodoric had been worried that their relationship would be noticed; but after two years that fear seems to have left him. Lucius did not share his lover’s confidence – he knew full well that his position was dependent upon the Emperor’s favor. As long as the Empire prospered, he was safe – their relationship a quirk that the reiks and people could allow. But should fate turn against them, and the Empire fall onto hard times, he would be the first one blamed and sacrificed to appease that demon-bitch, Fortune. Theodoric wasn’t the only one who read his histories, afterall.
“Theodoric,” Lucius said carefully, “I apologize. I forget myself. But my point still stands.”
Theodoric nodded and listened. It was one of the things that Lucius loved about the young man; he always listened. Even when he obviously disagreed, as he did in this case, even when his brain was running five times as fast as an average man’s, he always listened to what others had to say. And then he would spell out his logic to you; and usually, by the time he was done, whoever he was speaking to would find themselves nodding their head and agreeing that he was in the right.
“No. I used to think that way as well. I know that many here,” at this Theodoric looked away from Lucius and cast his eyes over the council, “think that I am being rash, or driven by a desire for revenge against that false-King. Fair enough. I do want revenge against Sigbert; not only for my own loss, but for the grief he has brought my family for many years! One of my own mothers lies in her grave because of that man, as well as a brother who I never met. But it’s not just that. If it was just revenge, I’d do as you say. But, I’m not. I am not Theodemir, willing to plunge this Empire into war just to seek vengeance for wrongs against me and my family.”[FN1]
And as those words passed his lips, Lucius knew with a certainty that they were true. Theodoric took his title of Emperor too seriously, held the lives of his men to be too sacred, to risk their lives for something as paltry as mere revenge. Not for the first time he wondered about this strange man he was in love with; at one time brash and given to enthusiasms and fancies, and on the other, willing to chill his own desires for the good of others.
“But the problem,” Theodoric continued, “is not Sigbert. Replace him, and another will rise up to take his place and do the same. The Franks and we Goths have been stuck in the same deadly dance for centuries. When we are strong, we force them to bend the knee and they play the role of good vassal. But the moment we grow weak or are distracted, they rise up again and raid our provinces, looting and killing. How many lives have been lost over the past two centuries? How many more will die over the next two? No. Frankland needs to be destroyed! It needs to be brought into the fold of the Empire, its will to resist broken forever more. Then, and only then, will be finally have peace, and will the ghosts – ours and theirs – be able to rest peacefully in their graves. Frankland needs to be destroyed!”
Lucius winced and sighed. Theodoric was doing it again, god dammit. No matter his own misgivings and fears, of which he had many, Lucius found himself nodding his head in agreement. The Emperor’s logic was sound; the Franks and Goths had been rivals since Theodemir the Great has slain Clovis in battle. Over two hundred years of men, resources and energy had been spilt in this god awful blood feud between the two peoples.
Looking around the room, he wasn’t surprised to see the majority of those assembled nodding their heads in the same manner as himself; reluctantly coming around to the young Emperor’s point of view. Lucius cursed under his breath; knowing full well that there was nothing to stop him now.
“Lucius,” the Emperor said, “can we have a word in private?”
Lucius looked up from his thoughts to see that Theodoric had left the dais and now stood in front of him.
“Of course,” he said.
“Good, I’m going to my study for a drink and I could use your advice.”
The two men left the assembled counsellors and nobles and made their way to the Emperor’s private study. Theodoric shut the door and walked straight to a waiting decanter, poured two glasses of wine and handed Lucius one.
“You have reservations,” Theodoric said, sipping from his glass.
“I think that that’s obvious. I don’t make a habit of disagreeing with you in public just for my own health. If you were anyone else, it would likely be very bad for that same health.”
“But I’m not anyone else, Lucius. I’m me; and one of the things I love about you is that you do speak your mind. So, speak. What are your reservations? I’d hoped you, or someone else, would say what you did so I could explain myself immediately, but I got so busy speaking that I never actually let you say what it was that was on your mind.”
“Why didn’t you mention any of this before,” Lucius asked, frustration entering into his tone.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you mention any of this to me before? I know you can make up your mind quickly, but something like a war? No. You’ve been mulling this over for a long time. But you never mentioned a word of it to me before a few minutes ago. I’d supposed to be one of your advisors, one of your generals, and you kept me in the dark.”
Theodoric actually blushed and bowed his head. “I,” he started. For a second it looked like he was building himself up to make another speech, but caught himself. Instead he took a deep breath, and as he did so much of the gusto and energy which he surrounded himself with simply evaporated, leaving him looking like nothing less than a young man called to task. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you,” he said.
“But you didn’t.”
“No. Listen, Lucius, I know you worry about me. Maybe you should; you saved my life once before when I got caught acting like a fool.”
“More than once,” Lucius said, though the frustration had vanished from his voice and a wry smile had taken the place of his frown
“Exactly. I know who and what I am, and so you worry about me. And you know how much you mean to me. It’s not just that you saved my life. You …” he trailed off, as if trying to find the correct word, “you temper me. I have these big dreams, and you’re the one who lets he chase them while keeping me tethered to the ground. I love you, yes. But it’s more than that; I value what you have to say, and I treasure your opinions. What you think of me … it’s important to me.”
Lucius nodded, not expecting this conversation to get so personal so quickly. “What does this have to do with you not telling me about your plans?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Lucius? I was scared that if I told you sooner, you’d try to talk me out of it. And you probably would have succeeded.”
Lucius stood, staring at Theodoric in shock for a second, not sure what to say or do. “So, you didn’t tell me because you were scared I’d talk sense into you?” He smiled and shook his head “Listen, I do worry about you and I always will. I know you! But I also know that there isn’t any other man I’ve ever met who I’d trust to personally lead an army. You’re capable, the men love you, and I know you’d never risk their lives without thought. I don’t worry because I think your plans won’t work; I worry because you feel so responsible to them and the Empire that you’d risk your life to protect them. And I don’t know hat I’d do if you got yourself hurt and I wasn’t there to step in and protect you. You’re always so busy thinking of your subjects that you don’t have anyone to look out for you!”
“Of course I do,” Theodoric stated. “I have you. And that’s all I need.” He sipped his wine again, before adding, “I’m sorry for not bringing you in earlier. But, as my chief advisor, I suppose you have every right to see what I’ve come up with so far.” He walked over to his favorite chair, throwing himself into it, “So, I’ve been exchanging letters with some of the chief generals in the Senate and Ga-Run and I think we can muster …”
Lucius nodded and listened; one part friend, one part lover and equal measures military commander. The plans were good, after all – but not so good that his input wasn’t needed after all … [FN2]
The Life of Theodoric the Fair
By: Witteric Un-tals
Translated and Edited by: Athelrad Edwardson
London: National University of Sexland Publishing, 1982
…
Following his defeat at the hands of King Sigbert, the Emperor returned to Ravenna. Though chastised at being bested by the old foe of his family, he was not broken in spirit. Instead, he dedicated himself to military matters, training with his armies, speaking to his generals and turning to the texts of those great men of the past. Forever at his side was his friend Lucius, for the two had grown close following the Battle of Beneuvre and were not said to be inseparable. Older and wiser than the Emperor, Theodoric trusted his friend’s counsel and relied heavily upon him during those years.
Then, during the Spring of the year of the lord Six Hundred and Ninety-Seven, a rebel amongst the Bretons rose up. For though Theodoric was beloved by the Goths and Romans both, there were still subjects of the Empire who viewed the Emperor as young and weak – and his loss to Sigbert only confirmed their suspicions. A Breton lord by the name of Warock raised the flag of rebellion against his rightful Emperor and sought to enrich himself.
Now, Theodoric wished to respond to this afront and was said to weep nightly at the tales of depredation and slaughter that reached him. “Poor benighted Jaille,” he cried, “shall the God who made us all finally take pity upon that land and stop the misfortunes which plague her year after year.” However, only a year after Beneuvre, he had at his disposal fewer soldiers than the previous season. But the lack of soldiers was made up for with the dedication and fury which beat in his breast at the thought of the rebel lord harassing the good Christians of Jaille. And so, raising what army he could, he raced north to give what aid and succor he could.
They would prove to be enough. After Beneuvre, Theodoric had famously pledged that he would make himself a stern man who could protect the realm, and had spent an entire year in pursuing that course. Now it would be Warock to whom he put the lessons of the past year into practice. The campaign was swift, for the Bretons were wholly unprepared for the fury of the Emperor’s wrath and the speed at which he descended upon then. The Breton lord had convinced his followers that the Emperor would be unable to respond within the campaign season, and even then that he would likely purchase peace, so soon after his humiliation at the hands of King Sigbert. Warock was mistaken.
The arrival of Theodoric caught the Bretons by surprise and they had not yet even finished the fortifications in which they hoped to wait out the winter and then hold off the Emperor in late Spring or Summer. Near a church to St. Denis, in the highlands of southern Brittany, Theodoric descended upon the rebels and ruthlessly cut them down. Then Warock was captured and brought before his sovereign lord and made to repent of his misgivings before being sentenced to death. His body was then hewed atwain and individual limbs were sent to tour the countryside so that the people would know that the brigand had been slain. [FN3]
…
It is likely that Theodoric’s experiences the previous year against Warock influenced his decision to go to war with Sigbert Long-Beard of the Franks. He now knew that he possessed the skills to command an army, and having tasted victory against one foe, he longed to return peace to Jaille for all time; and he knew that this could only be attained by the subjugation of the Franks. As he stated to his closest advisor, “Frankland must be destroyed,” for if it was not, then Sigbert’s heirs would return to harry the defenceless Christians of Jaille time and time again.
“The time has come for us to have true peace,” Theodoric proclaimed, “and put an end to these rebels and villains who put flame to our fields, who carry away our women and children, and who cut down our men like the reaper does to the wheat at harvest.”
And so he prepared himself throughout the winter and the spring of that year, exchanging letters with chief Senators and the Reiks of the Goths and grew up a force of 30,000 men. These were drawn from Senatorial Italy, Burgundy, the Gothic lands, Suebiland, Lombardy as well as Spania. Jaille had by this point been so mercilessly illtreated that Theodoric feared requesting any help from that land, for it was said that in all of Jaille no more than two dozen men could be found above the age of 16 and below 60 who were physically whole and able to fight. And together with these men, as well as his closest companions, Theodoric marched into Jaille to bring war to King Sigbert and the Franks. [FN4]
…
“The Flame Blazed and then Was Snuffed Out: The Kingdom of Frankland during the Reign of King Sigebert the Long-Beard” Journal of Restoration Era Studies, Vol XXI, No. 4 (1978)
By: Dr. Ingoberg Chilpretson
…
Theudebald records that when news reached Sigbert of Theodoric’s invasion, that he was moved to laughter. His experiences two years prior at Beneuvre had not convinced him that the Gothic Emperor was a true threat. Even Theodoric’s decisive victories in Brittany the year prior had done little to convince the Frankish King that the young man was a real threat – writing the action off as little more than sweeping common rabble and brigands from the field of battle. Perhaps this is why Sigbert’s response was so sluggish; rather than immediately calling his vassals and organizing them, giving him time to improve fortifications and prepare for the invasion.
Instead, Sigbert chose to gather his men and immediately set forth to meet the Goths head-on; no doubt convinced of his superior abilities as a commander and wishing to put an end to the invasion as quickly as possible. To his credit, Theudebald tells us that Sigbert was able to raise 20 thousand soldiers, many of them battle-hardened veterans from his previous campaigns, for the defense of his realm; perhaps indicating that rumors of his over confidence have been overblown in the centuries since the fateful war.
In any case, Sigbert Langenbart marched forth from the gates of Metz with every intention of quickly sweeping aside the upstart Emperor and, hopefully securing longstanding independence from the Empire. The 20 thousand Franks met the 30 thousand Gothic soldiers on the valley north of the market community of Novimagus. Both Theudebald and Witteric give surprisingly similar accounts of the battle, despite their own inherent partisanships. The narrow valley of the River Mose constrained the movements of soldiers and naturally favored the Franks who were on the defensive and held the river’s eastern bank.
Theodoric attempted to force his way through the Frankish forces, and when this failed after several hours of bloody fighting, the Goths began to retreat. The Goths and their Emperor were held in such low esteem by Sigbert and his Frankish commanders, that he either ordered his forces to pursue or else lost control of the men in their furor. However, Theodoric was well aware that his over exuberance had lead to a costly defeat in their last encounter and the retreat was a feint. While the fighting had been going on, a contingent of Gothic forces had ascended the wooded hillock to the east of the Franks, unbeknownst to their foes. As the Franks broke lines to pursue the retreating Goths, the flanking units descended from the hills, smashing into the Franks to disastrous effect.
For his part, Sigbert was not so easily bested and was able to restore order to the remains of his army and made fought an orderly retreat northwards on the long march back to Metz. Perhaps the war could have been ended right there, but Theodoric was still a young commander and despite the success of his maneuver, waisted valuable time in reordering his army before they too pursuit of their foes. This likely allowed the remains of the Franks to get a crucial head start; though the army heading northwards was a shadow of it’s former self, having lost between a third to half of its numbers in the day of fighting.
…
Sigbert’s arrival in Metz would have been traumatic to the citizens of the Frankish capital. Whereas a proud army had marched south assured of victory, the army which returned was broken – to the casualties of the battle now needed to be added those who perished on the long trek back. Furthermore, the King himself was not the man who had left on campaign some weeks earlier; he had been wounded in the fighting, and had also lost two of his three sons in the battle including his heir Sigbald. Despite this, if Metz could hold out, there was still a chance of victory, even if a costly one. Metz sat upon the southern bank of the River Mose, but fortifications along the northwestern bank could prevent the Goths from entirely encircling the city, allowing them to survive a long siege.
But it was not to be. The Goths arrived three days after Sigbert’s forces and quickly set out to besiege the Frankish capitol. At first, it seemed that the siege would favor the Franks, as Gothic efforts to cross the Mose were repulsed. However, in August, after a month and half of the siege, the Goths were able to land on the northern bank of the Mose and after heavy fighting, captured the fortifications, effectively encircling Metz once and for all. Meanwhile, the wound on King Sigbert’s arm began to fester and grew delirious, leaving command of the city in the hands of his only remaining son, Sigmund.
Then, on August 24th, the feast day of St. Bartholomew, Sigbert succumbed to his injuries and infection – the once great King who had brought the Franks to the apex of their power, died sick in his bed. Stories told later would tell that he died screaming in terror, begging a priest for protection from the ghost of his first wife. [FN5] And from there events moved quickly; having withstood the siege for over two months, the news of the king’s death shook the city to the core. A mob stormed the Kingly residence where they found Prince Sigmund, bound him and threw open the gates to the Gothic forces, offering to turn the young man over in exchange for mercy.
And so, on August 25th, 698, King Theodoric the Great entered Metz with his soldiers, bringing an end to the native rule of the Franks for the next three centuries. King Sigbert’s dreams of a free and powerful Frankland died with him, and though the Franks would rise from the ashes of his failure, they would do so in a form that would have been nearly unrecognizable to the fallen king. [FN6]
…
[FN1] The Goths would be more likely to see Sigbert and other Frankish rulers as Dukes. The Frankish leader’s taking of the Kingly title was a very purposeful thumbing of his nose at the Gothic Empire, and few in Ravenna would agree that he deserves that title.
[FN2] Hopefully my prose isn’t too hackneyed here. I really wanted to represent Theodoric and Lucius as being in an actual relationship and for said relationship to feel real. I’m not sure I succeeded; but wrest assured, any failure is mine and my clunky pen’s!
[FN3] Yeah, as much as Theodoric II is presented throughout this and the preceding chapter as a viewpoint character and overall the protagonist, it’s important to remember that he’s still an early medieval ruler and an Emperor on top of it. We shall see a great deal of his dedication to his people and Empire going forward, but we shall also see that he is most certainly a man of his time, possesses the Amalingian family trait of ‘wrath’ and is probably not the sort of man you want to cross (and if you do, you had best be sure that you know exactly what you’re doing …)
[FN4] This is a gross overstatement about the level of depredation in Jaille at this time. However, Jaille has not had a good last several decades – first you have King Sigbert’s initial raid/invasion during the 680s, coupled with a civil war in the region between two rival governments. Then the Franks returned in 695, and though this raid was abbreviated, it was followed by the rebellion of the Bretons and their raids in northern Jaille. Basically; unlike OTL where Gaul was the heartland of the Merovingian lands, here it has become a periphery, far from the central seats of power of the Gothic Empire, poorer and more decentralized than other parts of the Empire, and constantly being raided by enemies (or even friends!!!! The Bretons are technically Federates of the Empire, though they seem to forget this whenever is suites their interests). Poor Jaille; so close to the Empire’s enemies and so far from God.
[FN5] You know, the Gothic wife he strangled himself? Yeah. It’s safe to say that these events have left Metz with one HELLUVA good ghost story for centuries to come 😊
[FN6] There may be more than a little hyperbole in the while “no native dynasty in three centuries” bit. After fall, would the British consider the House of Windsor to be a native dynasty, just because they originally came from Germany? In either case, its safe to say that the goals of King Sigbert Langenbart came to an end with his death; and whatever comes next for the Franks is going to be very different than what he envisioned or dreamed of.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And we're back! This was a surprisingly difficult entry to write as I wanted to show some of Theodoric's personality and his relationship with Lucian while also moving the story ahead and showing the collapse of King Sigbert's Kingdom of Frankland (heretoforth known as the King-Who-F@^%ed-Around-and-Found-Out). I hope you liked it and I apologize for any rough areas. I also tried to stretch myself and show a bit of the military strategy; something I've shied away from doing much in the past. So if anyone has always critiques or criticisms of those sections, please let me know!
In our NEXT chapter, we shall look at the political ramifications resulting from the snuffing out of Frankish independence and watch Theodoric's efforts to consolidate his gains and the pitfalls that come from that (what? you didn't think it would be THAT easy, did you?)
Last edited:
