A Land Fertile in Tyrants
- Thread starter Uhura's Mazda
- Start date
Konan of Brittany is still alive and was going to invade Normandy, he was supposedly killed by poisoned riding gloves in December. Add him and an Anglo-Saxon resistance against a leaderless Norman force that nearly lost Hastings, interesting indeed. I still see less of warring states analog and more English Time of Troubles with less false pretenders and more outside claimants.
Uhura's Mazda
Banned
Chapter One: The Wages of War and the Waging of Peace
"...and then I said, 'Call that a knife? This is a knife!' and I threw it at the traitor. It hit him - squelch! - right between the eyes and he just blubbered as he fell, gurgling 'Urgh, you're such a brilliant knife-thrower'. So then I walked over to his body and squatted down on his head a few times, and we threw him on a pile of corpses from the day before!"
Bishop Odo had tried to tune out of William of Evreux's boasting tales to the men following them, but it was impossible. There was deathly silence among the leaders of the two-score strong column as they schemed and worried and rode, and William's ever-growing, ever-changing account was the only excitement to be had in that sorry band. Duke William's death had touched them all, and there were questions to be asked about what to do next. These questions would have to be asked very soon, for the leaders of the Norman army were presently on the way to negotiate peace terms with the surviving English Counts - who were, presumably, in just as much of an odd place as the Normans were, having lost their King as well.
"You there!" shouted Odo, "Are you sure this is the right way?"
"Gêse, wægn medemian ûtor wægn su hlimme" replied the English guide they had seized at Pevensey, where the rest of the invaders were huddling at present. The spot where Bishop Odo's brother had snatched the sand of the beach was now a place avoided by the spooked Norman men - they said it was a cursed place, and Odo was unable to convince them otherwise, for all his standing in the Church.
"Right" said Odo. He assumed that all that meant 'yes'. They rode onwards through the green, fertile lands that could have been - and might still be - theirs.
William Malet spoke up now: "Look, seeing as we're going to be making peace with these people, shouldn't we at least decide what we're going to demand?"
"Half the gold in their treasury?" suggested Count Eustace of Boulogne.
"Well, obviously" snapped William of Evreux, reluctantly joining the conversation. Eustace had quickly become the scapegoat of the French for his temporary retreat at Hastings, and the more he protested that his actions had been part of Duke William's cunning plan, the more people laughed. Sensing that Eustace was now weaker than him in the eyes of their followers, William now took every opportunity to remind him of the new power dynamic: William was on top after that fateful throw of the knife, and Odo sensed he wanted to stay there. "But we should force them to accept the new Duke as their King as well."
"Who's the new Duke, then?" asked William FitzOsbern.
"Young Robert, of course" said Odo, swivelling round on his saddle to face the others.
"Uh-huh." Was William of Evreux rolling his eyes?
"Look," continued Bishop Odo, "we don't stand in a strong enough position to press the claim that my late brother held. Robert is a child. He is currently in Caen, and more importantly, he has not defeated the English in battle. If William was still with us, things may have been different, but we no longer hold all the cards. That's why we're negotiating with these 'Edwin and Morcar' people. I don't doubt that there is another English army of a similar size to the last one somewhere - after all, these Counts weren't present at Hastings, so they must have a sizeable force in reserve. It would be laughable if those ten thousand men we bested were the entirety of the force under arms in this Kingdom, wouldn't it?"
"That would seem to be the case," said old Roger de Beaumont, who had a reputation as an astute man, "so we must - in the absence of a way to achieve a complete victory - consider a way to continue the friendly cross-Channel relations of the time of Edward the Confessor. The obvious way of doing this, as far as I can see, is to force these Counts to accept a new King of our choosing. Someone amenable to our diplomacy, but not a Frenchman. We must make them feel that they have achieved victory by crowning this new King."
"Who, then?" asked William Malet. "And who would they marry?"
"It seems plain to me that we cannot accept a relative of Harold Godwinson, or he will seek to avenge himself on us" supplied William FitzOsbern, more as a conversation starter than a pronouncement of wisdom. Odo remembered that FitzOsbern's brother had been one of Edward the Confessor's chaplains, so he was more au fait than most with the intricacies of the English Court. A useful man to have around during young Robert Curthose's regency, perhaps.
Now Eustace the Feeble - was that a good name? No, maybe Eustace the Craven of Boulogne. For all his faults, Eustace at least kept his body in peak physical fitness. Eustace the Craven piped up now: "Well, if you remember my cousin Drogo, Count of Mantes, his grandson is an Englishman, and a nephew of some sort of old King Edward, so he might be - "
"Actually," Odo interrupted, "there's a monk - or maybe a prior - down in Aquitaine who fits the bill. He's a bastard son of King Harold Harefoot, or one of that lot, so I think that makes him a nephew of King Edward. He's a pious man, and considering he lives in our neck of the woods, he ought to understand the kind of trading concessions we want, and be quite friendly towards us. I think his name is Ælfwine or something vulgar like that."
"That seems acceptable" said Roger de Beaumont. "We shall propose him for King and the rest of our demands ought to be accepted by this mild-mannered monk, even if the English don't like it."
Now that the plan had the Beaumont seal of approval, all the other potentates of Normandy quickly expressed their enthusiastic approval - all except Eustace of Boulogne, who looked as if he had some dust in his eye.
---
That night, the feast lasted until well after midnight. Edwin and Morcar had been perfectly charming hosts, and their fellow Count - or, as they insisted on calling themselves, Ealdorman - Waltheof had been very understanding of the Norman point of view. The only thorns in the side of negotiations had been the Archbishops Stigand and Ealdred, who had argued strongly in favour of the coronation of a certain young man by the name of Edgar as King of the English, but after Odo put forward the monk (who he was now almost certain was called Ælfwine) they quickly agreed, admitting that they were only arguing in favour of this Edgar because his attractive, foreign mother had put them up to it. The ecclesiastics had, however, managed to barter the 'Danegeld', as they had called it, down to just a few tens of thousands of pounds of silver. No matter. The Normans would probably get the rest once this French monk was safely enthroned.
And so, once the resultant Treaty had been signed by all present in the Cathedral (which they called a 'Minster' here, apparently) everyone had proceeded to the royal Hall to eat vast amounts of meat and drink vast amounts of ale and wine. Frenchman and Englishman laughed together for an evening, though most of the men brought by the Norman delegation spoke no English, and vice versa. Crying 'Long live King Ælfwine!' often enough seemed to keep the conversation flowing, though. The hitherto over-serious Archbishop Ealdred had even shown himself to be proficient at telling filthy stories after a horn or two of mead.
Now it was nearly dawn, though, and the revellers were mostly sprawled snoring on the reeds, surrounded by patches of gravy and various bodily fluids. It looked almost exactly like the battlefield of Hastings had at the end of the day, except with the blood replaced by vomit and the eye-pecking ravens replaced by face-licking hounds. Bishop Odo would otherwise have been prey to these friendly dogs, but, now that he was in his thirties, his bladder was not as robust as it had been. He picked himself up with the piteous groan of the truly hungover, and tiptoed past the snorers out the front door.
Suddenly, all thought of pissing was gone.
He heard whispers coming from around the corner of the Hall, and froze so as to listen.
"Look, we can't just have a fifteen-year-old arsehole of a child as our Duke, can we?" That was William of Evreux, presumably talking about Odo's young nephew, Robert, the son of Duke William. "Don't you remember the last time we had a minor as Duke?"
"I do, but I'm fairly certain that you don't, William." That sounded like William FitzOsbern.
"Well, no, of course not, but I know it was a decade or more of chaos, anarchy and strife between all the Norman nobles. And that was with Duke William in charge. We need to take this opportunity to ensure that our Duchy is governed well - Bishop Odo is a capable administrator, but he has no Ducal blood, and he ought to remember that."
"Are you suggesting that we just ignore the laws of succession?" asked William Malet.
"No, I'm saying that we should follow them. Duke William was a bastard, obviously, so he should never have been Duke in the first place. Hence the Lord's judgement falling upon him for his overweening ambition. God rest him, of course. But that means that his children have no right to rule, and the rightful heir to Normandy is in fact my father, Richard, Count of Evreux, so - "
Then came an interruption from Roger de Beaumont, who had been hitherto silent. So Roger was conspiring too. This didn't look good to Odo, but on the positive side of the ledger, he was definitely sure he had seen Eustace of Boulogne asleep indoors. Not that the absence of a coward made much difference, of course. "How on Earth do you work that out?" Roger de Beaumont was asking. "Your father's a grandson of Richard the Fearless, and the descendants of Richard the Good take precedence, I'm sure."
"Ah, but Salic Law dictates that women may never inherit the - "
"Well, obviously, yes, but I'm not arguing in favour of a woman. That would be ridiculous. I'm arguing in favour of the closest male relative, so that would be - "
"No, no, no, Roger: all the descendants of Richard the Good are either bastards or children of his daughters. And if a daughter can't inherit, her sons obviously can't, either."
"I have literally never heard of that interpretation of Salic Law before." said Roger de Beaumont, witheringly. "If that were the case, half the Counts in Normandy would be landless. In fact, I can state without a shadow of a doubt that this hardline interpretation will never catch on. Of course you can inherit land through your mother, as long as she herself doesn't own anything."
"So, who's the actual rightful Duke, Roger?" asked FitzOsbern, evidently attempting to bypass the awkwardness. Odo, listening in from around the corner, strained to think of his family tree - was Eleanor older than Alice, or was it the other way round? Had William had any other aunts? He almost envied Roger de Beaumont's anal-retentive knowledge of all the aristocrats in Northern France for a second, but quickly came to the conclusion that he'd much rather have friends instead. At the moment, though, a lot of his friends seemed to be plotting to end his political career, which made the dichotomy slightly more complicated.
"The closest legitimate heir would be William, Count of Burgundy, who is a grandson of Duke Richard the Good, just like Duke William."
William FitzOsbern nodded. "Well, we’ll have him, then. What’s the form for this sort of situation? Do we write him a letter or do we just wait for him to turn up in Caen with a Papal banner and eight thousand men?"
"Hang on, though," said William of Evreux, "why would we want to be ruled by some Burgundian Count nobody's ever met, when we can be ruled by a well-respected Norman Count, like my father? You all like my father, don't you?" His voice was slightly above a whisper now, presumably due to his desperation, and the other conspirators shushed him. Odo rolled his eyes: he could hear their whispers perfectly, all it took was a slight strain. Taking confessions from an early age tended to focus the ears rather.
William Malet was presently concurring with the heir of Evreux. "When you put it like that, maybe it would be valid to interpret Salic Law in an Interesting way. But if your father becomes Duke, who will you marry?"
"Why the hell do you keep going on about marriages, Malet? Have you got an ugly sister you want to get rid of or something?"
Bishop Odo knew that this would lead to an extended argument about the relative merits of all the available options. There was no time like the present. He sneaked back into the hall, tripped up over a few sleeping drunkards, and spent eight minutes seeking out the guide they had taken with them. Eventually, he found the right man, and poked him in the face. This did not wake him. Bloody English, always drinking themselves into a stupor. Odo slapped him with force across the cheek, and he roused himself drowsily.
"Hwæt?" he muttered.
"Take me to the nearest sea-port. Now. And quietly."
"Yfel setnes onniman êow, wænkere."
"Er... Good."
As dawn broke, Bishop Odo's horse was charging at full pelt through the New Forest. If young Robert was going to be Duke, he would need Odo's immediate assistance.
Bishop Odo had tried to tune out of William of Evreux's boasting tales to the men following them, but it was impossible. There was deathly silence among the leaders of the two-score strong column as they schemed and worried and rode, and William's ever-growing, ever-changing account was the only excitement to be had in that sorry band. Duke William's death had touched them all, and there were questions to be asked about what to do next. These questions would have to be asked very soon, for the leaders of the Norman army were presently on the way to negotiate peace terms with the surviving English Counts - who were, presumably, in just as much of an odd place as the Normans were, having lost their King as well.
"You there!" shouted Odo, "Are you sure this is the right way?"
"Gêse, wægn medemian ûtor wægn su hlimme" replied the English guide they had seized at Pevensey, where the rest of the invaders were huddling at present. The spot where Bishop Odo's brother had snatched the sand of the beach was now a place avoided by the spooked Norman men - they said it was a cursed place, and Odo was unable to convince them otherwise, for all his standing in the Church.
"Right" said Odo. He assumed that all that meant 'yes'. They rode onwards through the green, fertile lands that could have been - and might still be - theirs.
William Malet spoke up now: "Look, seeing as we're going to be making peace with these people, shouldn't we at least decide what we're going to demand?"
"Half the gold in their treasury?" suggested Count Eustace of Boulogne.
"Well, obviously" snapped William of Evreux, reluctantly joining the conversation. Eustace had quickly become the scapegoat of the French for his temporary retreat at Hastings, and the more he protested that his actions had been part of Duke William's cunning plan, the more people laughed. Sensing that Eustace was now weaker than him in the eyes of their followers, William now took every opportunity to remind him of the new power dynamic: William was on top after that fateful throw of the knife, and Odo sensed he wanted to stay there. "But we should force them to accept the new Duke as their King as well."
"Who's the new Duke, then?" asked William FitzOsbern.
"Young Robert, of course" said Odo, swivelling round on his saddle to face the others.
"Uh-huh." Was William of Evreux rolling his eyes?
"Look," continued Bishop Odo, "we don't stand in a strong enough position to press the claim that my late brother held. Robert is a child. He is currently in Caen, and more importantly, he has not defeated the English in battle. If William was still with us, things may have been different, but we no longer hold all the cards. That's why we're negotiating with these 'Edwin and Morcar' people. I don't doubt that there is another English army of a similar size to the last one somewhere - after all, these Counts weren't present at Hastings, so they must have a sizeable force in reserve. It would be laughable if those ten thousand men we bested were the entirety of the force under arms in this Kingdom, wouldn't it?"
"That would seem to be the case," said old Roger de Beaumont, who had a reputation as an astute man, "so we must - in the absence of a way to achieve a complete victory - consider a way to continue the friendly cross-Channel relations of the time of Edward the Confessor. The obvious way of doing this, as far as I can see, is to force these Counts to accept a new King of our choosing. Someone amenable to our diplomacy, but not a Frenchman. We must make them feel that they have achieved victory by crowning this new King."
"Who, then?" asked William Malet. "And who would they marry?"
"It seems plain to me that we cannot accept a relative of Harold Godwinson, or he will seek to avenge himself on us" supplied William FitzOsbern, more as a conversation starter than a pronouncement of wisdom. Odo remembered that FitzOsbern's brother had been one of Edward the Confessor's chaplains, so he was more au fait than most with the intricacies of the English Court. A useful man to have around during young Robert Curthose's regency, perhaps.
Now Eustace the Feeble - was that a good name? No, maybe Eustace the Craven of Boulogne. For all his faults, Eustace at least kept his body in peak physical fitness. Eustace the Craven piped up now: "Well, if you remember my cousin Drogo, Count of Mantes, his grandson is an Englishman, and a nephew of some sort of old King Edward, so he might be - "
"Actually," Odo interrupted, "there's a monk - or maybe a prior - down in Aquitaine who fits the bill. He's a bastard son of King Harold Harefoot, or one of that lot, so I think that makes him a nephew of King Edward. He's a pious man, and considering he lives in our neck of the woods, he ought to understand the kind of trading concessions we want, and be quite friendly towards us. I think his name is Ælfwine or something vulgar like that."
"That seems acceptable" said Roger de Beaumont. "We shall propose him for King and the rest of our demands ought to be accepted by this mild-mannered monk, even if the English don't like it."
Now that the plan had the Beaumont seal of approval, all the other potentates of Normandy quickly expressed their enthusiastic approval - all except Eustace of Boulogne, who looked as if he had some dust in his eye.
---
That night, the feast lasted until well after midnight. Edwin and Morcar had been perfectly charming hosts, and their fellow Count - or, as they insisted on calling themselves, Ealdorman - Waltheof had been very understanding of the Norman point of view. The only thorns in the side of negotiations had been the Archbishops Stigand and Ealdred, who had argued strongly in favour of the coronation of a certain young man by the name of Edgar as King of the English, but after Odo put forward the monk (who he was now almost certain was called Ælfwine) they quickly agreed, admitting that they were only arguing in favour of this Edgar because his attractive, foreign mother had put them up to it. The ecclesiastics had, however, managed to barter the 'Danegeld', as they had called it, down to just a few tens of thousands of pounds of silver. No matter. The Normans would probably get the rest once this French monk was safely enthroned.
And so, once the resultant Treaty had been signed by all present in the Cathedral (which they called a 'Minster' here, apparently) everyone had proceeded to the royal Hall to eat vast amounts of meat and drink vast amounts of ale and wine. Frenchman and Englishman laughed together for an evening, though most of the men brought by the Norman delegation spoke no English, and vice versa. Crying 'Long live King Ælfwine!' often enough seemed to keep the conversation flowing, though. The hitherto over-serious Archbishop Ealdred had even shown himself to be proficient at telling filthy stories after a horn or two of mead.
Now it was nearly dawn, though, and the revellers were mostly sprawled snoring on the reeds, surrounded by patches of gravy and various bodily fluids. It looked almost exactly like the battlefield of Hastings had at the end of the day, except with the blood replaced by vomit and the eye-pecking ravens replaced by face-licking hounds. Bishop Odo would otherwise have been prey to these friendly dogs, but, now that he was in his thirties, his bladder was not as robust as it had been. He picked himself up with the piteous groan of the truly hungover, and tiptoed past the snorers out the front door.
Suddenly, all thought of pissing was gone.
He heard whispers coming from around the corner of the Hall, and froze so as to listen.
"Look, we can't just have a fifteen-year-old arsehole of a child as our Duke, can we?" That was William of Evreux, presumably talking about Odo's young nephew, Robert, the son of Duke William. "Don't you remember the last time we had a minor as Duke?"
"I do, but I'm fairly certain that you don't, William." That sounded like William FitzOsbern.
"Well, no, of course not, but I know it was a decade or more of chaos, anarchy and strife between all the Norman nobles. And that was with Duke William in charge. We need to take this opportunity to ensure that our Duchy is governed well - Bishop Odo is a capable administrator, but he has no Ducal blood, and he ought to remember that."
"Are you suggesting that we just ignore the laws of succession?" asked William Malet.
"No, I'm saying that we should follow them. Duke William was a bastard, obviously, so he should never have been Duke in the first place. Hence the Lord's judgement falling upon him for his overweening ambition. God rest him, of course. But that means that his children have no right to rule, and the rightful heir to Normandy is in fact my father, Richard, Count of Evreux, so - "
Then came an interruption from Roger de Beaumont, who had been hitherto silent. So Roger was conspiring too. This didn't look good to Odo, but on the positive side of the ledger, he was definitely sure he had seen Eustace of Boulogne asleep indoors. Not that the absence of a coward made much difference, of course. "How on Earth do you work that out?" Roger de Beaumont was asking. "Your father's a grandson of Richard the Fearless, and the descendants of Richard the Good take precedence, I'm sure."
"Ah, but Salic Law dictates that women may never inherit the - "
"Well, obviously, yes, but I'm not arguing in favour of a woman. That would be ridiculous. I'm arguing in favour of the closest male relative, so that would be - "
"No, no, no, Roger: all the descendants of Richard the Good are either bastards or children of his daughters. And if a daughter can't inherit, her sons obviously can't, either."
"I have literally never heard of that interpretation of Salic Law before." said Roger de Beaumont, witheringly. "If that were the case, half the Counts in Normandy would be landless. In fact, I can state without a shadow of a doubt that this hardline interpretation will never catch on. Of course you can inherit land through your mother, as long as she herself doesn't own anything."
"So, who's the actual rightful Duke, Roger?" asked FitzOsbern, evidently attempting to bypass the awkwardness. Odo, listening in from around the corner, strained to think of his family tree - was Eleanor older than Alice, or was it the other way round? Had William had any other aunts? He almost envied Roger de Beaumont's anal-retentive knowledge of all the aristocrats in Northern France for a second, but quickly came to the conclusion that he'd much rather have friends instead. At the moment, though, a lot of his friends seemed to be plotting to end his political career, which made the dichotomy slightly more complicated.
"The closest legitimate heir would be William, Count of Burgundy, who is a grandson of Duke Richard the Good, just like Duke William."
William FitzOsbern nodded. "Well, we’ll have him, then. What’s the form for this sort of situation? Do we write him a letter or do we just wait for him to turn up in Caen with a Papal banner and eight thousand men?"
"Hang on, though," said William of Evreux, "why would we want to be ruled by some Burgundian Count nobody's ever met, when we can be ruled by a well-respected Norman Count, like my father? You all like my father, don't you?" His voice was slightly above a whisper now, presumably due to his desperation, and the other conspirators shushed him. Odo rolled his eyes: he could hear their whispers perfectly, all it took was a slight strain. Taking confessions from an early age tended to focus the ears rather.
William Malet was presently concurring with the heir of Evreux. "When you put it like that, maybe it would be valid to interpret Salic Law in an Interesting way. But if your father becomes Duke, who will you marry?"
"Why the hell do you keep going on about marriages, Malet? Have you got an ugly sister you want to get rid of or something?"
Bishop Odo knew that this would lead to an extended argument about the relative merits of all the available options. There was no time like the present. He sneaked back into the hall, tripped up over a few sleeping drunkards, and spent eight minutes seeking out the guide they had taken with them. Eventually, he found the right man, and poked him in the face. This did not wake him. Bloody English, always drinking themselves into a stupor. Odo slapped him with force across the cheek, and he roused himself drowsily.
"Hwæt?" he muttered.
"Take me to the nearest sea-port. Now. And quietly."
"Yfel setnes onniman êow, wænkere."
"Er... Good."
As dawn broke, Bishop Odo's horse was charging at full pelt through the New Forest. If young Robert was going to be Duke, he would need Odo's immediate assistance.
Great story and very original. I do not see yet a timeline with both Guillaume and Harold dead after a Norman victory!
I'm definitely in!
I'm definitely in!
I believe there was one on that topic before.
EDIT: Never mind, I was thinking of AJNolte's "The Greater Norman Empire and its Successor States"
https://www.alternatehistory.com/fo...norman-empire-and-its-successor-states.60420/
I thought William died in it, but he didn't.
But this story is quite fun. Colour me enjoyed.
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If you could find the link, I'd love to plagiarise it!
You don't have to worry about that. I was a little confused about my memories of AJNolte's timeline. (To be fair to me, it was nine years ago when it started...)
I thought it involved William beating Harold, and then dying. But the POD was William landing first, beating Harold in an alt Hastings, but then having have to fend off Harald Hardrada himself, which leaves him in a weakened position vis a vis the Anglo Saxons.
It's quite the fun timeline, so if you haven't read it, I'd recommend it. It's actually different enough from yours you'd never have to worry about even involuntary copying. It is sadly unfinished.
So I look forward to seeing yours go forward
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Oh Lord, I'd forgotten about Harefoot's ill-born sprog. Of course, he's got no more of the blood of Cerdic than the last bastard who wanted the throne. He's not of Emma's line, but the Normans are assuming his life in France will suffice.
However, the Normans have bigger poisson to flambé now. William De Evreux (what a lovely little pillock he is) is scheming like nobody's business, and the others don't seem too keen on Young Robert. Odo is not thick: if he can get back to Caen,and secure Robert and enough loyal troops, then the counts left in England will be faced with a dilemma. Accept the fait accompli; or oppose, by returning as am invading army? That's before Burgundian, Breton and Flemish shenanigans. Oh, and the Counts of Anjou will probably want to join the party. They always did.
Young Ælfwine may have led supporters amongst the English if the Normans get too distracted. His upbringing won't have equipped him for such things, either. Potentially bloody civil wars I both sides of the Channel.
Love the marriage line, obviously. One nitpick: I thought William named the New Forest?
However, the Normans have bigger poisson to flambé now. William De Evreux (what a lovely little pillock he is) is scheming like nobody's business, and the others don't seem too keen on Young Robert. Odo is not thick: if he can get back to Caen,and secure Robert and enough loyal troops, then the counts left in England will be faced with a dilemma. Accept the fait accompli; or oppose, by returning as am invading army? That's before Burgundian, Breton and Flemish shenanigans. Oh, and the Counts of Anjou will probably want to join the party. They always did.
Young Ælfwine may have led supporters amongst the English if the Normans get too distracted. His upbringing won't have equipped him for such things, either. Potentially bloody civil wars I both sides of the Channel.
Love the marriage line, obviously. One nitpick: I thought William named the New Forest?
So...Has the catholic crusade against Harold been won or not, given that Leader William has died on the cusp of victory? Or does this mean it's failed, or it's going to as the English continue to tell the Pope to bugger off. In fact, I bet a few good number of Kings and counts and Dukes are now quite fed up with this bloody papist intervention and also tell him to bugger off, right? And yes the ripples will effect the rest of Western then Eastern Europe pretty soon. For instance, what would Toulouse and Aquitaine think of this Danish Monk suddenly riding off their lands towards an English crown? (Aquitaine was centered around Spanish diplomacies, Toulouse's young count William IV might try something...or not.)
I should probably also be drawing these guys...What did you have in mind dear author?
I should probably also be drawing these guys...What did you have in mind dear author?
wænkere - indeed.
No doubt someone will decide to be the partisans of Edgar Æþeling, just to add to the additional fun as given the amount of amusement likely to break out in Normandy, after all, I can see Edwin and Morcar preferring him to the Norman puppet Ælfwine. Luckily, the situation in Wales is sufficently complex that they probably won't be able to make hay with this, but Malcolm Canmore will be very interested in all this. I think England could potentially split for a while here.
No doubt someone will decide to be the partisans of Edgar Æþeling, just to add to the additional fun as given the amount of amusement likely to break out in Normandy, after all, I can see Edwin and Morcar preferring him to the Norman puppet Ælfwine. Luckily, the situation in Wales is sufficently complex that they probably won't be able to make hay with this, but Malcolm Canmore will be very interested in all this. I think England could potentially split for a while here.
Alex Richards
Donor
These lines are just pure gold.
And in terms of the plot, this web of allegiances and lineages is getting so tangled it's starting to look like Kuzdu
