The Amalingian Empire: The Story of the Gothic-Roman Empire

Chapter 80: Sweet Home Gothia
  • Chapter 80

    Sweet Home Gothia



    “Show me,” the Prophet said, “a family which is poor in gold, but rich in the spirit of the All-Father. They shall find their rest together in Heittheimili when their time on Midgard has come to an end” - Proverb ascribed to the Fritjolf Odinson



    Mausoleum_of_Theoderic.JPG


    The Mausoleum of Theodoric the Founder, visited by Romanos Periplanomenos when he stayed in Ravenna



    My Travels Amongst the Goths
    By: Romanos Periplanómenos
    Trans: Dr. Milos Katechis
    London, Kingdom of Sexland: Royal Press, 2010


    Uncle, I am writing you today to explain a small adventure which I had the other day while traveling West from Ravenna. As we are well aware, you left me with a number of tasks related to your business interests to attend to upon my arrival in the West, and I can assure you that I have carrie them out just as you requested. I have already sent you a number of epistles stating that I have secured those shipments which you desired from Senators Claudius and Antonius as well as making mention of the lavish treatment I received from our esteemed comrades in the Western Empire. [FN1]

    From there, I naturally traveled north east to Ravenna where the Gothic Emperor holds his court for much of the year. It was there that my letter writing sadly became much less frequent. I know that I have previously told you about the first new weeks in the capitol before going silent, and I must apologize profusely for the oversight on my part. I fear that I became quite enamored with the daughter of our host and my mind, and heart, were pulled away from the page by this distraction. Sadly, I must report that no matter how much I poured out my heart to that fair Gothic maid, I was unable to melt the ice in her heart. Gothic women are strange creature indeed and bear little resemblance to the women from our own country. They are striking in appearance, tall and beautiful, but their demeanor carries with it traces of the northern home of their ancestors, for they are cold beings and the disapproving glare of one causes ice to form within one’s stomach. Luckily, my wounds – mental, physical and spiritual – have healed, but I do believe it is in my best interests to find a wife elsewhere!

    But I regret nothing, for, as a wise man once said, “It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” And if no wise man has actually spoken those words, then I shall coin them myself. And my time in Ravenna, doing only as your instructed of course, did offer me the opportunity to view the newly crowned Western Emperor himself, Thorismund. Sadly my exposure was not social; though he apparently enjoys frequenting the parties hosted by the great Gothic nobles of the land, he did not find his way to any that I was attending (not that I attended a great number, Uncle! I beg you to not believe that I have been acting as a common sot or fool upon my travels. I have acted only with the greatest propriety as should be expected as I was executing your business). However, one fine day I was walking the Street of Theodoric where one can view the mausoleums of Theodoric the Founder and his heirs Theodemir the Great and Amalaric. Although the architecture of these tombs are not the match for those in Constantinople, I can attest that there is a certain primal beauty to the stark structures that left me moved.

    In any case, as I was sightseeing, there was a great commotion and the crowds parted and there came Thorismund himself, riding at the front of a procession. I will tell you, Uncle, that I was taken by the great power which exuded forth from this man. He is bear-like and well over six feet tall in heigh, with a mop of hair the color of dried straw. His complexion was ruddy and his cheeks and nose blushed and seemed to be stained the color of a fine wine. I had no doubt that this man could best almost anyone – just the sort of Emperor which one would believe to be favored by barbarian folk, even civilized ones! Though I must admit, though it might well have been my imagination, that his eyes appeared somewhat reddened and he winced at the noise of the crowd, giving me the impression that he may have been suffering the aftereffects of a late night excursion. [FN2]

    Anyway, I am sure you can piece together much of my time in Ravenna from my previous letters and those details which I have not shared, you can rest assured will be mentioned in later epistles. Truly, it was a fine city, though much smaller than I had been expecting, due to its status as the capitol of our brother-Empire in the West. Unlike Rome, which despite the activities of the Senate in maintaining and beautifying the sacred city, still gives off an impression of faded glory, Ravenna is bustling and new! It seems as if the Emperors of the West, knowing that both they themselves and their city have not the history to rival that of Rome, have poured forth great fountains of wealth in an effort to build a legacy for themselves. This is not surprising, but what I came to appreciate is how fine of a job that have done in this endeavor. Though Constantinople is grander, and Rome itself more august, Ravenna possess a veritable charm which is hard to put into words; even by a man who loves his own words as much as I do.

    But I am prattling on and on, and missing the point of this letter, for I had initially written you to tell you of a quaint but telling adventure which I had the past few days. You see, though I understand that your instructions were to pass directly from Ravenna to Spania, the weather has turned for the season and so I decided to make by make by land, rather than by sea. Surely you remember that my travels from Constantinople to Rome had been less than pleasant, and how I gained the unfortunate nickname of Vesuvius from the sailors (fine folks thought they were) due to the impact of the rough seas upon my constitution. I know this decision has drawn out my travels, and I want to thank you for the understanding that I am sure you have for your faithful nephew.

    In any case, my decision was fortunate, for it allowed me to see the countryside of the Gothic lands and take in their beauty. As I made my way down the old roads, I was taken with the history of this country, for it seems to excude from the land itself. I was most notably struck by the realization of how many peoples have made it their home: Etruscans, Celts, Latins and now Goths. Perhaps it was my imagination, but there were times when I felt I could see the impression that all of these different people have had upon the land and its current inhabitants, like footprints left in wet sand. It was truly a magical experience and I only regret that, for the second time in the same letter, I find that my words – those close companions which have brought me more pleasures than I can count – have failed me yet again.

    As we left Ravenna, we traveled northwest, hugging the Appenine Mountains as we did so. In the process, we passed through the cities of Bononia – which the local Goths seem to refer to as ‘Boonen’ – and then cutting east and south before reaching Mediolanum. My goal is to reach Genua before heading due west along the seashore, and it is from that city that I will likely dispatch this letter from my hand to your reading desk.

    The lands which I have traveled through have been stark. Although we in the East, I think, like to view the Western lands – save for the major trading cities – has being desolate and given over to wilderness and savagery, this could not be further from the case. Yes, the lands are not as populated as many parts of the East – though I would argue that they are better settled than many of the lands which the Sclavs and Avars have flooded into in our own eastern realm – and there are certainly stretches of true wilderness, it would be mistake to believe that the Goths brought with them the desert which they then imposed upon the lands of the Latins.

    Indeed, those lands which are under cultivation are well tended and organized. Most people in these parts live in small villages and travel from them every morning to tend their crops or flocks. Perhaps the most striking feature of the landscape is the numerous monasteries which dot the land. I was told that many landowners often grant unused land to these monkish communities, who then bring civilization to it by cultivating it and making it fruitful. In these parts, many of the Monks belong to the Gothic Church and, as such, are heretics; but they still believe in the civilized laws of hospitality and I found myself staying with with many a night on my travels. Most are good people, and the brothers often seem overjoyed to have a guest; especially one from the Eastern Empire. Indeed, more than once Uncle, I noticed them plying me, unwilling of course, with some of the best wine I had ever tasted in an effort to loosen my tongue and tell them of life in Constantine’s City. Now, rest assured, being around such holy men, I always did my best to be the very platonic ideal of circumspect and respectful, and any tales you may have heard to the contrary are outright fabrications and slanderous lies!

    But a Monastery does not fit into my current tale, I fear, though I would happily had stayed warm and dry in one had only one been available. You see, I was traveling alone on the road South of Mediolanum heading towards Genua. Although I always try to travel with others for sake of safety, my last companion had continued on West while I headed South and so we were forced to part ways. A charming fellow, I can assure you that I missed his wit as I noticed storm clouds brewing in the West. Not, Uncle, I know that your heart surely fluttered with fear for my safety as you read those last words. Please let me put your concern to rest when I state to you that the Gothic Emperors vigilantly protect the roads in their realm and that traveling, though always carrying some risk, is no more unsafe in the land of the Goths than it is in the environment around Constantinople! I know that your head is filled with tales of desperate maurauders who would be only to happy to rob and kill a naïve young Roman traveling alone, just as mine was prior to undertaking this journey. And indeed, I was told, that this was truly the case just a generation before during the time of Queen Adela and her lacky Emperors. But times have changed and now good government once again reigns in Gothic lands. Although danger certainly still exists in these parts, it is muted; though I do hear tell that Jaille is overturn by brigands and I was warned many times to never travel alone should I step foot in that benighted land.

    In any case, I was alone when I noticed the growing black clouds to my right. I was traveling on a donkey at the time, not able to afford a horse after a particular incident involving an Abbot and too much wine, where I once again lived up to my nickname of Vesuvius. He was a loyal beast, sturdy and with the peasant-like determination to see his task through to the bitter end. But he was not swift! And to make matters worse, I had then found myself passing through one of those rare areas of desert which I had spoken to you about, the road had become very lonely indeed and the land itself was choked on all sides with poplars and other trees. Although I do not consider myself a superstitious man, my mind began to fill with the tales of ghosts an specters you used to delight in telling me as a youngster, and the thought of hunkering down in that wood to outlast the storm did not fill me with joy! And so I ordered my poor ass onwards, and he complied with the dull yet begrudging enthusiasm was befits one of his station and profession. There was no doubt that he felt his master to be an idiot but complied anyway.

    Now, before I go any further in this tale, I must explain to you that there are two separate peoples who make their homes in Gothia. One, of course, are the Goths who dominate the region and migrate into it nearly two centuries ago. The second group, however, are the Valahs and they are largely the descendants of the native Latin speaking people of the region. Whereas the Goths belong to the Gothic Church, speak Gothic and are largely independent land holders (though, as with all people, there is great variation between them in wealth. A Goth may be a rich noble and own thousands of acres of land, or he may struggle to make a living on only five), the Valahs belong to the True Faith, speak Latin of a sort and are tied to the land they plow. They are not slaves, but neither are they fully free, and most seem to exist in some liminal space of being half-free.

    During my time in Ravenna, I had often heard Goths, both common and noble, stick their nose into the air when discussing the Valahs and it became eminently clear that even the poorest Gothic street urchin felt himself to be superior to the most well off Valahs. This confused me, as I was a Rome and an Orthodox who was being treated with the greatest deal of respect by my hosts and all that I met, and I everyday say merchants and travelers from Rome and Italia who were treated as I was. I asked by host’s daughter about this and, though she likely wished to blacken my eye – again – as she always seemed cross with me, she explained is like this: I was a Greek, and all knew that Greeks were fellow Romans from the East. Likewise, those who came from Italia and Rome were Romans, just like the Goths themselves. But the Valahs, though they spoke Latin (of a sort. I cannot stress theis enough) were not true Romans. They had initially rebelled against the Goths at some distant point in the past, and this meant that they did not respect the Roman Crown. Furthermore, though being surrounded by members of the Gothic Church – or True Faith as she called it. The poor woman was greatly addled in her perspectives of faith, though I did not hold it again it – they refused to accept the truth. Finally, and most damningly, many were unable or unwilling to pay their taxes and so they fled to the Goths to protect them. They were lazy, shifty, born criminals, and a number of other inventive infinitives which I have since forgotten. Truthfully, I left the conversation more confused than ever, but certainly happy that in his mercy, God had not seen to allow me to be born a Valah!

    This is important because, as my donkey and myself slowly trodded down that deserted road in search of succor, the clouds opened up with all of their fury and I suddenly found myself understanding exactly how Noah must have felt! If I had had access to an Ark, I would have happily jumped inside for shelter. But no large boat offered itself, unfortunately, and so my stubborn friend and I were forced to continue forward – even as the rains came down hard and cold, and we had difficulties following the road. Just when it seemed all was lost, and I have determined that risking the specters of the wood was far preferable than suffering through this deluge any longer, I noticed a light in the distance. For a split second, I feared that I was witnessing a daemon or other spirit, but I wiped the rain from my eyes and as I did so my good sense returned and I realized I was seeing a light in a window.

    There are no words that can express the excitement and joy I felt in that moment. In my ecstasy I urged my stubborn friend on quickly, with a heel to his side and was rewared by the grumpy jackass nearly bucking me off and pitching me face first into the mud. “What’s the matter with you,” I cried out, “don’t you want to dry off and warm up?” He responded with a grunt which communicated his complete disdain for my presence on his back as well as my predicament. Such is the way of life; sometimes in the road you meet lifelong friends, other times you get chastised by a haughty donkey with a greatly inflated view of its place in life.

    In either case, fifteen minutes later or so, I found myself knocking on the door of a rundown, but dry, home with the gusto of a man who feels the devil is following close behind (and, indeed, my surly donkey was standing near to me. Though I would be demiss if I said I truly believed him to be an incarnation of the Evil One). The door was soon opened by a middle aged man with a black and grey speckled beard. He was agruff man, and peered at me with no small amount of suspicion. I tried to explain myself, but either my Latin was bad or his was, before he stared at me quizzically so that for a moment I feared that he would not grant me access to his home and the shelter it represented to me.

    Luckily, that is when his wife walked to the door. For some reason I understood her better than I did he, for I plainly heard her say “Who is it, Honey?” She then took one look at my sodden and forlorn form, pushed her husband out of the way and was ushering me inside and towards a small table and chair. She then turned back towards her husband and said something I didn’t quite catch, but it seemed to have an impact on her husband for he sheepishly grabbed his cloak and went outside and ushered my donkey to the stable. Then, smiling, she turned to me and offered me a cup of hot broth which I greedily drank down.

    By the time her husband had returned, she and I had begun to communicate in a rudimentary manner; the Valahs in that part of the country speak a different form of Latin than what is spoken in Rome, and both are different from the Classic language which you paid tutors to teach me in my youth; just as the Greek spoken on the streets of Constantinople is different than that first uttered by the masterful Homer. But, it wasn’t so different that we couldn’t pick up on one another’s meanings with a bit of effort – I blame my earlier inability to communicate clearly on the pouring rain and my own urge to get inside as quick as possible. I learned that her name was Julia and her husband’s name was Amalric. At this I perked up, but she confirmed that neither of them were Goths, but Valahs; though sometimes Valahs are given Gothic names in their childhood due to the prestige those names carry.

    Soon I found myself warming myself before the fire in their quaint cottage. Once Amalric returned, he joined us and the three began to tell out tales. They were very impressed to be hosting a traveler from Constantinople and seemed honored by my presence; poor Julia often cursed her luck that they didn’t have better food as someone befitting my station. I assured them that I didn’t mean to be able trouble (and that was the god’s honest truth! They may have been poor, but that family was rich in love, and that is far more valuable to my mind.) and that the porridge of grains and smoked meat they gave me was some of the best I had ever tasted. Julia did insist on breaking out their own wine and though I protested, I did not do so too strongly! The wine, just like the porridge, was delicious and that night I could think of nothing I rather be injesting and imbibing.

    As we broke into the second bottle, tongues began to loosen, and we shared our stories. As I said, they were taken with mine but, truthfuly, one of the joys of travel is hearing and learning from others and I insisted that I could not possibly dominate the conversation for I wanted to hear of their lives. And, right now Uncle, I am sure that your eyes rolled so hard that they may well have broken free from your face and began to roll across the floor, but I insist that I meant it. Though we both know how much I love to talk, I can, and do, listen as well, and my travels so far have brought this side of me out more so than maybe it ever has been before.

    Well, with a little prodding, Amalric began to open up. I felt bad for my first impression of him as a brooding and threatening man. Once he was comfortable, he was as giften an orator as Cicero and had a flair all of his own. I think he may have initially been intimidated by me, due to my background, but after a few cups of wine, this passed and he loosened up very nicely. In any case, it turns out that Amalaric was half free, but that hadn’t always been the case. His Father, Claudius – very few of the Valahs seem to use family names and are just known as so-and-so Son of that-man – had once been a yeoman who owned his own land. Unfortunately, that had been during the times of the Fourth Punic War and though Valahs are not often allowed to carry weapons and fight, they are still seen as having their part to play in war. This part is, of course, the payment of taxes.

    Amalaric told me that though the crops has been good, there was no way that his father Claudius could keep up with the tax burden being leveled upon him. Although Goths do not usually pay taxes, Emperor Theodebert had actually tried to impose taxes on the Goths, though backed off in the face of threats of revolt. This meant than even more of the burden had to fall upon the Valahs. Claudius, eventually, was forced to give up his freedom and enter into the half-free status which has long been the norm for Valahs. He went to a local lord named Amalaric (from wence my friend received his own name) and offered to give up his freedom. In exchange for the Gothic noble taking on Caludius’ tax debt, Claudius offered him part of every crop and also pledged to work his new master’s fields for roughly 40 days out of the year. When Claudius died, Amalaric inherited his land, but also his status and responsibilities to the Lord and the Lord’s descendents.

    It was a sad story but, I’m told, not an uncommon one. I asked Amalaric if he was bitter about this, but he said no. It was simply the way things were and, furthermore, there were benefits. In addition to the Lord agreeing to pay Claudius, and now, Amalaric’s taxes, he also vowed to protect them. During the time of Queen Adela, bandits had been a very real concern; that is until the Lord organized a small militia and rooted the brigands out of the local woods. At one point, Amalaric said, his father’s fields had been burned for not paying the protection money the bandits had requested. Had he been independent and free, no one would have come to his rescue; but the Lord not only lead the militia, he also sheltered Claudius and his family and took care of them until they could recover.

    I asked if they ever resented the Gothic attitue towards the Valahs, but again he answered in the negative. He said that some Gothic travelers, especially those who came from the larger cities – which he called Mailand, Boonen and Jenua in the Gothic fashion, could be disparaging but most of the local Goths were neighbors and friends. In fact, their only daughter had married a local Gothic man and was happy; the couple had four kids and both Amalaric and Julia loved nothing more than to see their grandchildren. They grumbled somewhat that they daughter had had to convert to the Gothic Church, but were still happy for her. I asked if that was common, and I was told that it wasn’t as common as it used to be – the Orthodox Church frowned on such marriages since the wife and children had to leave the fold – but it wasn’t uncommon. Though Gothic law forbade a Valahs man from marrying a Gothic woman, it allowed Gothic men to marry Valahs women, and the relationships that formed between families of the two communities could be vital.

    I asked if they had any other children, and after an awkward moment, I was told that they did. They had two more sons – Claudius (named for his grandfather) and Adrian. Claudius had taken up residence on some land nearby in the service of the local lord and had a small family of his own. Adrian, however, had been of a wilder character; he had accepted conversion into the Gothic Church and sought an education. He was now a priest and called himself Amalamir and was passing as a Goth; apparently he was married with children, but was embarrassed of his Valah heritage and refused to come home and associate with his family. This latter fact caused both Amalric and Julia a great deal of pain and I learned that Amalric felt guilty as he had become angry with his younger son when he converted and believes this was why the priest would not longer see his family. [FN3]

    “Why,” I said, “would anyone want to give up their own identity? After all, everyone in the Empire who wasn’t a slave as a Roman citizen.” At this my hosts gave me a pitying look, and I was immediately ashamed, because I felt as if they saw me as a niave child.

    Julia smiled at me and said “Bless your heart,” as she patted me on the shoulder. She then told me that there was no such thing as a half-free Goth, at least as far as she knew. She and her husband may not be literate (though there were literate Valahs in the village, she and her husband were not among them) but they knew bits of the law. And the laws definitely favored the Goths; Goths never paid taxes, unless they willingly took on the tax burden of those who wished to become their colonii, and the laws also protected Gothic freemen from ever having to enter into servitude. In fact, since Goths were supposed to be able to serve in the army, it was believed that they had to be wealthy enough to be able to afford armor and weapons and other implements of war. Therefore, the Emperor and his government did everything in their power to make sure that the Gothic freemen remained stable and secure enough to be able to fulfill their duties.

    For whatever reason, their story filled me with sadness and compassion. I don’t know why exactly; here was a couple that was secure, had friends and family near by, and were genuinely filled with warmth and Christian brotherhood to everyone they met. They didn’t feel as if their lives were sad. And yet, the fact that people I had met, who I had liked, would look down upon this couple who had given shelter, food, wine and companionship to a total stranger, filled me with an anger which still has not passed.

    That night they gave me a place in front of the fire to sleep, a bed of straw and blankets of furs which Amalaric had gained while hunting as a young man. The next morning they asked me if I coul stay another day, but I demurred and stated that I had business to attend to you for you, Uncle. I offered to pay them for their hospitality, but they would hear nothing of it, “sharing a roof with a nice young man from the East is payment enough,” Amalaric said. Julia smiled and said she only regretted that her daughter was already married for she felt I would make a good son-in-law; and I would swear before God that had they a second daughter I would have happily accepted the offer. To have in-laws of such righteousness and kindness would be a blessing which all the riches of the world could never equal.

    And so I made my way onward, and told them I would stop back on my return journey if I could. And one day I would love to do just that, with all my heart. I can say that there is only one wish of there’s that I could never honor and that was when they said that they would accept no payment. Before leaving, I told them that I needed to return inside to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything from my pack – a likely excuse as most of my cloths and belongings had spent the night drying by the fire. Once inside I placed four gold pieces inside the fur blankets I had slept in. I figured they would find them after I was long gone and so they wouldn’t be able to return them to me. And, Uncle, if I say ask you one favor: when you go to mass next, can you say a prayer for Amalaric and Julia for me, and ask our priest to do the same. They have everything in life they need save one, and I hope that their son returns to them and recognizes them as family. If you could, it would mean the world to me.

    [FN1] This excerpt actually comes from before our first introduction to Romanos in Jaille, closer to the beginning of his journey. I had originally intended for it to follow after his travels through Spania but, as had been established, it was there that he received word that his Uncle was ill, and he sped back to Constantinople, so I felt there wouldn’t be much time for him to write.

    [FN2] Romanos is taking some subtle – or not so subtle – jabs at Emperor Thorismund I here, if you haven’t been able to tell.

    [FN3] This is an important story because it shows that there are aveues of social mobility available to Valahs. However, those pathways usually involve embracing Gothic identity – faith and language being the biggest aspects of it. In a previous chapter, we heard the tale of a Jaille peasant who moved to Ravenna and tried to pass himself off as a Goth. Here we see someone who did is more officially; they converted, gained an education, became a priest in the new faith and even changed their name. The likelihood is good that, within a two generations, his descendants would have no idea that they were descended from Valahs.

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    Okay, I have a confession to make. I had initially imagined this chapter as beginning with a short introduction by our good friend Romanos telling the tale of his taking shelter with a kindly Valahs family. Then the chapter would segway into an academic discussion of the social history of Gothland during the 7th century, focusing on the growth of the Gothic Church, the status of Goths and Valahs within the realm and all that fun stuff, as well as touching on the reign of Thorismund I. However, Romanos, as I continually have forced to rediscover, is a wordy bastard. A snarky, wordy man who is quite taken with his own clever use of language, but also one who is a good observer and who is actually much more wholesome, I think, than he sees himself as. Which means, his account kept growing and took over the entire chapter.

    So, the NEXT chapter will be a nice, detailed, exploration of the social history of Gothland during the 7th century and the reign of Thorismund I (or, at least, part of it. There is one rather unique event which will be a separate chapter). But, this chapter still acts, I think, as a good introduction to all of those topics. And, really, I enjoy spending time with Romanos. I'm not sure how much of him we'll see going forward; though I might turn to him when we get back to the Eastern Empire and Persia as he writes about his travels there, albeit later in life.

    Having said all of this, I have a pretty big personal announcement to make!

    So a few years ago, I finished my first Masters degree and decided to take some time off from school. I was burnt out, as happens, and was really trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. After a few years I realized that I really did want to go for my PhD after all; largely as a result of how much fun I had working on an independent research project on Prohibition and Crime in Fargo, ND during the 1920s and 1930s. So I applied ... and got turned down by every school I applied at.

    So, not to be dissuaded, I applied again - figuring I had learned a few things from last time, and also figuring that I now have teaching experience at the college level. And got turned down! Again. At this point, I was beginning to feel like the King from Monty Python who built his castle in a swamp. Well, so be it, if that was gonna be me, than that would be me. At least I might get a nice fur lined cloak out of it (and a castle, in a bloody swamp!). So I applied to a Master's program in Library science and spent two years doing that. I continued to adjunct when I could, and gain new skills.

    This past May I applied for a third time and ... I got accepted!!! Like two weeks ago. So come January, I will be moving to Aberdeen, Scotland to do my PhD in History, studying Irish and Polish priests in the Upper Midwest and their efforts to preserve traditional cultures and identities amongst their parishioners (because I'm the exact type of guy who would apply overseas to study the history of his home region. Because: Adventure!). I am totally drunk on excitement right now and wanted all of my readers to know :D
     
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    Interlude #3: List of Emperors (UPDATED)
  • So, guys, my current goal is to have another chapter out this weekend and it will, as promised, cover some social history of Gothland. Until then, I was goign over my notes and I found my compilation of the monarchs of the Amaling Dynasty of the Gothic-Roman Empire.

    Hopefully this will help some of the newer readers catch up and the older readers re-familiarize themselves.

    Amalingian Rulers of the Ostrogoths, Visigoths and Western Roman Empire

    Theodoric I the Founder: 493 - 526 (not actually Emperor)
    Theodemir I the Great: 526 - 559
    Amalaric I: 559 - 596
    Theodebert I: 596 - 611 (First husband of Adela)
    Amalamir I: 611 - 624 (Theodebert's brother. Son of Amalaric)
    Amalaric II: 624 - 632 (Amalamir I's eldest son. Died in a hunting accident. Second husband of Adela)
    Theodemir II the Chaste: 632 - 638 (Theodebert I and Adela's son. Castrated by his mother)
    Theodebert II: 638 - 651 (Amalamir's son)
    Thorismund I: 651 - 673
    Athaneric I: 673 - 678 (Thorismund I's eldest son)
    Amalamir II: 678 - 683 (Thorismund I's second son)
    Thorismund II: 683 - 694
    Theodoric II the Fair (the Great): 694 - ?
     
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    Chapter 81 The Good, the Holy and the Fat
  • Chapter 81
    The Good, the Holy and the Fat

    Amiel_-_Charles_the_Fat.jpg


    Later depiction of Emperor Thorismund I, popularly known as Thorismund the Good or, in later centuries, Good King Thorismund


    “Good king Thorismund comes gladly through the wood/
    Carrying a stag upon his steed/
    His cheeks are rosy red and his belly bursts his seams/
    And he’s come to feast with you and me.”

    - Good King Thorismund. Traditional Gothic folk song.


    “The Purple and the White: Emperor Thorimund I and the Gothic Church” Journal Restoration Era Studies. Volume XXXXIV Issue 3 (2001)
    By: Roderick Dag

    The period from the end of the Kunis Wars to the coronation of Theodoric II as Emperor of the Gothic-Roman Empire have often been remembered as the Era of the Do-Nothing Emperors. This term derived from the Era of Yearning and reflected the common conception of the day that those Emperors who ruled from the fall of Queen Adela to the rise of Theodoric II were largely ineffectual, constrained in their ability to possess full agency by the diminishing of the royal demense as well as the weakening of central authority in Ravenna. Numerous factors colluded to establish this as the defining view of the 7th century, including various political concerns which were then peculating within the Western world’s Southern and Northern camps. However, the dominant one appears to be that the mid-to-late 7th century provided historians with fewer sources upon which to base their accounts. Of those sources which did exist, the most comprehensive was of course that of Sigisbairht and his History of the Goths, and it is here where Yearningist historians and poets began to reflect the biases of their sources, for the chief concern of Sigisbaihrt was to understand how the Gothic Empire fell from its Golden Age prior to the Fourth Punic War into the chaos of the Ruination a mere century later. And for Sigisbaihrt, much of the blame fell upon those Emperors who ruled from 631 onward.

    Although efforts have been made in the past several decades to rehabilitate the Do Nothing Emperor’s reputations, with scholars now preferring the neutral term “The Middle Empire” to describe much of the 7th century, much damage had been done by the scholarship of over a century, a great deal of work still remains to be done. Perhaps the figure who suffered the most grievously at the hands of the Yearningists was that of Emperor Thorismund I, known initially after his death as “The Good.” Thorismund, though a process which is little understood, entered into the popular culture of the day and would be transformed during the Theutish Era into the jolly Good King Thorismund; a rotund figure of mirth and unofficial Patron Saint of Feasts and Parties. In later centuries, his birthday would come to be celebrated on December 13th in place of the ancient festival of Cerelia and would be marked by great harvest feasts throughout the lands of the former Gothic Empire, even stretching as far as Jaille. Thorismund’s Feast was seen as a leadup to the coming Christmas holiday. These festivals were viewed with suspicion by the clergy of the Gothic Church in the lands where it still held sway, who felt that it was either a secret pagan feast, or a festival which had infiltrated from the Theutish lands. In doing so, the clergy, knowingly or not, were joined with their ancestors in their antipathy towards the figure of Thorismund, as well shall see.

    Thorismund the Good ruled the Gothic Empire for 22 years from his ascension in 651 until his death in 673. Save for the disaster of the Battle of Burgburg in his latter years, the reign of Thorismund was one largely of peace and stability. Although the Rautherings continued to raid the coastal regions, of Spania and Jaille, they did not penetrate into Gothia proper during this time, after suffering a brutal defeat at Brigantium at the hands of the combined forces of the Suibi and their Gothic overlords. This battle would become the inspiration for the Gaelic poem Cath Óglaigh Mhac Aonghais – or the Tragedy of the Sons of Angus, as it is often recorded in Gothic and other languages – and was also mentioned in several Gothic sources. [FN1]

    How then, did this king who ruled over a period of relative tranquility and who also established a place for himself within the folklore of the Goths and others as a semi-demigod of mirth and feast become so badly besmirched by historians of the Age of Yearning and later? The answer, to be blunt, is because of the influence of the Church. Thorismund is one of the best recorded of the Do-Nothing Emperors, to use the archaic term, and was the subject of a surviving biography by Hunuil of Nizza [OTL: Nice] and priest and scholar who then resided in that city. Hunuil states in his introduction that his biography was written with the consent of Bishop Leovigild of Sacerdos College in Toulouz and was written so that all posterity would be aware of the “rightness of the Church” and the “Errors of our Emperor.” Calling such a work biased is almost an exercise in understatement, as it oft times resembles little more the a polemic against the Gothic Emperor. However, it was also hugely influential, and was relied upon heavily by Sigisbaihrt when compiling his own History, although he seems to have had access to other sources which he used to compliment Hunuil’s work. Perhaps the greatest misfortune which befell Thorismund is the fact that Hunuil is such an engaging, colorful and finely crafted work and is exceptionally enjoyable and readable. Even in translations into modern Gothic, the biography has lost little of its vitality and punch. As a result, it was hugely influential to the Yearningist scholars who painted Thorismund as the quintessential Do-Nothing Emperor and laid much of the blame for the coming Ruination upon his and his ilk’s shoulders.

    In recent decades, a number of influential works have sought to rehabilitate the image and memory of Emperor Thorismund I, striving to divorce his image from the slander of Hunuil as well as the mythic elements of Good King Thorismund, to establish him as a fully human actor operating within the Empire’s Middle Period. Much of these efforts have been inspired by the collapse of the Sigisthuida government during the 1960s in an effort to repudiate their historiography of Gothic history. Amongst the most influential was The Middle Empire: An Exploration of the Pre-Ruination Gothic Empire by Dr. Euric Staghinthan in 1969. Dr. Staghinthan had been released from a political prisoner camp just six years prior, and considered his work to be a rousing condemnation of Sigisthuida historiography. In this work he denounced the view of ideological historians which had painted the Gothic and Latin elements of the Empire as being inherently in conflict with one another; the Conflict of Civilizations having been a key tenant in Sigisthuinda historiography. He also works to show that the Ruination and the fundamental weakening of the Empire was not the result of the Do-Nothing Emperors weakly allowing the Roman Senate to grow in strength. In the decades hence, many other scholars have turned their attention to this era of Gothic History, most notably Valamir Fralet in his borad collection Emaneric’s Heirs and the more specific Through the Mirror Darkly: A Social History of the Middle Empire, which works to confirm many of the findings of Dr. Staghinthan. [FN2]

    My work does not seek to contradict these eminent scholars who I hold in high esteem, but simply to compliment their work. It is a sad truth that many of these works underplay the importance of the Gothic Church in the history of the Gothic Empire – an understandable prejudice when one considers the influence of the Church in the Sigisthuida government and their conception of Gothicness, but unfortunate all the same. And perhaps no other Emperor’s reign stands as a better lence to examine the complimentary, yet fraught, relationship between Church and State during the era of the Gothic Empire than that of Thorismund due to the conflict between the two.

    Although the Gothic peoples had accepted Christianity from at least the fourth century – traditionally marked by the arrival of St. Wulfila as Bishop of the Goths in 341, though non-Arian Gothic bishops such as Theophilus Gothiae who attended the Council of Nicea are attested prior to Wulfila’s ministry – the institutional Gothic Church as it exists today is not seen as having been founded until the arrival of Theodoric the Founder into Italy in 493. In subsequent years it’s growth and prestige would expand dramatically as it eventually subsumed the church of the Visigoths and Burgundians, came to take the place as the prestige faith of the restored Western Empire’s ruling class, and eventually established itself as the predominant Arian Church in the West. [FN3]

    However the clear-cut dates given above can be misleading as they suggest that the Church of the Goths came into being, cut from whole cloth, at any specific time. Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth, and the Church has it existed during the reign of Theodemir the the Great was an organic development from what had come before, just as the Church today has grown and evolved from the fertile soil of its past. Because of this, the Church as it existed in the Middle Empire, and even today, possesses many elements which it inherited from its own past. Nowhere is this more evident, possibly, than it its structure which differentiates it greatly from its Roman Orthodox counterpart in the West.

    The Church of the Goths grew from its origins as an ethnic Church of a highly mobile and migratory gens. During the first centuries of Christianity, two distinct practices existed in relationship to the appointment of bishops for newly converted peoples. For those period who the Romans viewed as civilized and who possessed a tradition of urban living – such as the Armenians or Persians – bishops would be appointed to urban centers, in an effort to replicate Roman civic administration within the Church. However, for those peoples who did not possess a strong urban tradition and, as a result, were viewed as barbarians, the practice was to appoint a single bishop for an entire people.

    The Gothic Church grew out of the latter tradition, unsurprisingly, with a single Bishop or Patriarch being selected to tend to the needs of the faithful. The Goths were, during this period, fractured and on the move, with the Visigoths eventually moving into the region of Southern Gaul around the modern city of Toulouz, and Ostrogoths remaining to the East and eventually establishing their own homeland in northern Italy. During the migratory period, this structure served the Goths well; a single bishop would lead the people spiritually, move with them during their wanders, and follow the King into battle to minister to his warriors during times of war and conflict. Meanwhile, priests – or presbyters – were given a great deal more freedom to operate independently than their Orthodox brethren.

    Once the Gothic peoples began to settle into their new homes however, rather than adopting the structure of their Orthodox neighbors, the Gothic Church retained its inherent structure. Although the number of bishops increased in both the Kingdom of the West and East Goths, their role was not altered greatly. Rather than be appointed to urban centers, the bishops instead formed Sacerdos Colleges around the person of the king, with the most eminent of their numbers being elected as Patriarch of the gens or people. As during the migratory eras, they mostly focused on tending to the spiritual needs of the King, his nobles and army, leaving the tending of the flocks to individual priests. In fact, priests in the Gothic tradition were granted greater spiritual powers than their Orthodox counterpoints – for example, within the Gothic Church a priest was allowed to lay his hands and raise another man to the priesthood; a power that was strictly reserved for bishops in the Orthodox tradition.

    The restoration of the Western Empire and the consolidation of the Eastern and Western Goths, led to greater cooperation between the Burgundian, Eastern and Western Sacredos Colleges, but did not lead to the two colleges merging. Indeed, although the Gothic crowns were officially linked during the reign of Emperor Amalaric I, the Sacredos Colleges would remain separate until the collapse of the Empire itself during the 9th century. Despite this, the position of the Gothic Church as the predominant faith amongst the Goths and, as a result, the prestige faith in the Empire, necessitated greater centralization and cooperation. It should come as no surprise then that the Patriarch of the Eastern Goths, who soon became intimately tied with the city of Ravenna and the primary Imperial Court, soon came to be seen as having primacy of place within the Gothic Church – even gaining the nickname ‘Atta’, likely influenced by the similar nickname ‘Pope’ for the Patriarch of Rome. [FN4]

    The raising of the Amaling line to the Purple offered many opportunities to the Gothic Church, but it also represented a number of challenges. As an ethnic Church, the Gothic Church had largely been left to its own devices; occasionally persecuted due to its Arian theology, and sometimes brought into conflict with an ambitious political leader, but generally left to meet the needs of the Gothic peoples as its leaders saw fit. However, with the restoration of the Empire, the Church was suddenly thrust into a position of high prestige, but which also linked its fate intrinsically with the victories and defeats of the Amaling dynasty; a fact that was lost on neither the Atta, the Sacerdos Colleges, nor the Emperors themselves.

    Already, during the reign of Theodemir the Great, the soon-to-be Emperor began to involve himself in the affairs of the Chuch of the Goths. This involvement was often in the form of supplying needed funds for a growing Church. As part of Theodemir’s great reforms, he instituted a require tithe of 10 percent throughout the newly demarcated Gothic lands within the Empire, with those funds being handed to the Church for its expansion and upkeep. He also made it legal for landowners to donate or grant land to the Church, albeit only in small parsels – though the allowed amount would be increased under his successors. Helping efforts, the Emperor had a close relationship with the Atta of the time, a Roman by the name of John – one of the last ungothized Romans to hold the title and position in the Church – and the two developed a complimentary working relationship. However, the Emperor’s involvement could turn to meddling when he felt the Church was not living up to its standards, such as his anemic response to the Plague of Belisarius. [FN5]

    During the reigns of Theodemir’s successors, the infrastructure of the Church expanded greatly. Monestaries were built, both on the Orthodox and, later, Gaelic model, in order to provide for the spiritual wellbeing of the people and to help reclaim lands which had gone wild during the previous centuries. New churches were built throughout the realm and missionaries were sent out to faroff lands such as Britain, Frankland, and into Germania. With the support of the state behind them, the Gothic Church soon became the predominant Arian Church in the West, and the Churches of the Vandals, Bavarians, Allemani, Avars, and Gepids came to acknowledge its primacy of place over them. Furthermore, although the Edict of Tolerance officially barred discrimination against the Roman Orthodox population, it effectively worked to strengthen and support the position of the Gothic Church, as it included such provisions as the death penalty for anyone who converted an Arian to Orthodoxy and put restrictions on the establishment of Orthodox monasteries within the lands set aside for the Goths. The result was that by the conclusion of the Fourth Punic War, the Church of the Goths was as well entrenched in Gothic society as the Roman Orthodox Church was in the Latin speaking regions of the Empire; despite the fact that it continued to operate in much more decentralized state than its competitor.

    However, this prominence acted to stress the relationship between Church and State. Although the two continued to operate in a symbiotic relationship throughout the Restoration Era, the growing strength of the Church would lead to friction. On the part of the Church, the Atta and other church officials, began to insert themselves more prominently into the political concerns of the Empire and voraciously defended their rights, such as during the Fourth Punic War when Atta Batwin refused to turn over Church property to help fund the war effort. At the same time, the Gothic Emperors were influenced by the relationship between their brother-emperor in the East and the Patriarch of Constantinople. During the initial years of the Kunis Wars, Queen Adela came close to trying to force sitting Atta, Sabbas II, to renounce their title due to his vocal criticism of her marriage to the young Emperor Amalaric II. She only relented, we are told, after several of her advisors protested that such an action against the popular Atta would surely lead to riots in the streets and potential rebellion. In the end, the point was moot as Sabas II passed away from ill health a few months later, and his replacement, Wulfila I, was more supportive of her position in the imperial court.

    These conflicting trends are best exemplified by the reign of Thorismund the Good. The birth year for Thorismund the Good, along with those of all of Theodebert II’s children, are a mystery. Sigisbaihrt makes no reference to their births and even Hunuil makes no reference to it. We do know that Thorismund was the third son of Theodebert II and judging from the fact that his taking of the purple was not followed by a period of regency – a prospect which would have frightened many of the Gothic Reiks in the years following the reign and overthrow of Queen Adela – he must have been a young man in his hate teens at the very youngest. This would put his birth sometime during Amalaric II’s exile amongst the Lombards during the 630s.

    All sources agree that Thorismund was never meant to take the Gothic throne; that was to be reserved for Theodebert II’s first son, Amalamir. As the third son, Thorismund could be assured a title and lands, following in the tradition first established by his Grandfather and continued by his Father following the latter’s victory over Queen Adela. However, Thorismund seems to have felt the call of the faith and entered into religious studies. Gothic priests and bishops could marry and have children, but their religious titles could not be inherited. As a result, Thorismund’s education would have likely diminished his status amongst the rest of Amalaric’s children and heirs and should have precluded his opportunity of claiming the Gothic throne.

    If it had not been for unforeseen circumstances, Thorismund would have likely entered into the priesthood and possible gained a place in the Sacerdos Colleges of the Empire, becoming a close advisor to his brother and te Atta. Instead, fate intervened, for the illness which cut short the life of Emperor Theodebert II spread through the imperial household and also claimed the life of Amalamir, the heir apparent. Unfortunately, Theodebert II’s second son, called Amalaric, seems to have been judged unfit for office by the Reiks of the realm. Unwilling to expand their search for potential heirs outside of the immediate household of the now deceased Emperor for fear of further political chaos so soon after the fall of Adela, the Reiks saw no choice but to elect Thorismund as Emperor [FN6]

    Thorismund must have been a popular choice. Despite his education in the Church, he proved to be a capable warrior, as he worked with the Suebi King to crush a series of Rauthering raid and put down a minor Vallach rebellion in Aquitaine. From this point forward, save for the defeat of the Goths at Burgburg later in his reign, the core lands of the Empire were at peace; although Jaille contained to be raided and suffer civil disturbances. Although history has remembered him as a drunkard, Thorismund from an early age proved himself to be a just ruler, which won him the respect and love of the Empire’s commoners and much of the nobility. Hunuil, hardly a sympathetic source, grudgingly admits “Thorismund was often filled with sympathy upon hearing of the plight of the common folks of the realm – both Goth and Vallach. He did not suffer fools willingly, and taught humility to the proud when they sinned against the freeman and the slave”

    Despite this complementary works, Thorismund would quickly come into conflict with the Church. Partially this likely stemmed from his own lifestyle. As previously mentioned, Thorismund was renowned as a man given to the vices of drink and gluttony; even Romanos Periplanómenos, who as a Greek was unlikely to take an active stance in the internal politics of the Western Empire, uses language which would be commonplace in later years; mentioning his red cheeks and nose as well as his size. However, where it only this, the Church would have likely turned a blind eye to the Emperor’s habits; he would not be the last Gothic Emperor given to the drink and other behaviors deemed sinful by some members of the clergy.

    So, the question remains, why did the Church develop such a negative relationship with the Emperor? The answer appears to stem from the one quality which most would assume would have given him their good graces; his education as a churchman. By all accounts, Thorismund was not a stupid man; even Hunuil admits that “the Emperor enjoyed nothing more than engaging a courtier or guest in debate. Sometimes he would argue this side of an issue, other times that, seeming to enjoy the debate itself with little consideration for the side he took on this day or that.” This intelligence and quick, jostling, wit seems to have ingratiated him with the realm; a small number of poems have even come down to us from this era which have been attributed to Thorismund, and all show a verbal dexterity and playfulness which cause them to standout from much of the literature of their day.

    However, these same traits which endeared the Emperor to the nobles and common folk of the Empire, had the opposite effect upon the clergy of the Gothic Church. This is because, like his predecessors, he often found excuses to intervene within the inner workings of the Church and even delved into theological matters. Thorismund, it seems, knew his intelligence and also wished to emulate his Eastern brother-emperor, and interfered which Church affairs consistently. When the aged Atta Wulfila I passed away during the first years of his reign, Thorismund openly pushed the candidacy of a friend of his, one Theodeoric of Massila. His efforts were rebuffed by te Gothic clergy who instead nominated Atta Nicetas I – a man who had previously been a prominent member of the Ravenna sacraos college, who whom Thorismund shared a personal dislike for.


    This failure to influence the nomination of an Atta did little to deter the Gothic Empire and may have only made him more determined to dictate Church policy. He attempted to resurrect theological arguments which were considered to have been long since settled. Most prominent of these was his determination to state that God could not rightfully be called “The Father” prior to the creation of Jesus; a debate which had caused concentration amongst the Arian clergy of Constantinople during the 4th century. He also pushed for the calling of a church council to settle upon the true status of Christ as a created divine being, pointing to the Letters of Paul to argue that the Apostles had viewed Jesus as an Angel that had taken human form. Making matters worse, Thorismund’s church education meant that he was well versed in Gothic theology as well as the Greek philosophical classics, all of which meant that he could craft arguments which were both engaging and convincing.

    This caused a flurry of activity within the Church, as the greatest writers of the clergy were called forth to engage wit the Emperor personally and convince him of his error. Although these efforts usually resulted in the Emperor backing down, often with what Hunuil described as “a jolly laugh and smile. One was left with the impression that he dabbled in error, not to much as out of personal conviction as out of a desire to test the faithful and our love of God and the Truth.” Only once did Thorismund not back down and, in doing so, he brought the full weight of his mental abilities to bear on the Church, and in that one instance, he committed the most grievous of sins: he won.

    The Goths, like many of the other Germanic tribes in the West, practices polygamy. This practice had long cultural roots that stretched back to their pre-Christian faith and continued into the 7th century amongst the Goths and others. Although several of the Gothic Emperors had been monogamous, this seems to have stemmed largely from circumstance and not conviction. By the time Emperor Theodebert II, Thorismund’s father, took the throne, he had three wives; after a long stretch of Emperors having only a single. Due to his role in the defeat of Adela as well as his strength in arms, the Church did not raise an eyebrow at this development. In fact, many noblemen continued to practice polygamy and there seemed to be widespread support for the practice.

    Despite this, there was a growing movement in the Gothic Church, influenced by their Roman Orthodox neighbors, define a marriage as one between a single man and a woman. This position has deep roots in the cultural practices of the Latin people throughout the centuries. Meanwhile, those who support polygamy pointed not only to their own history and traditions, but also to the example set by the patriarchs of the Old Testament. The pro-monogamy forces constituted a vocal and energetic minority within the Gothic Church, while the pro-polygamy faction was concerned that accepting monogamy was not only a refutation of the example of the Bible, but also a bowing to the cultural force of the Roman population of the Empire.

    Both factions existed in an uneasy stalemate during the reign of Amalaric II and the early reign of Thorismund. The election of Atta Nicetas I seemed to indicate that the pro-Monogamy forces were strongest as he was an outspoken member of their faction. However, he initially seems to have been hesitant in pushing for his position, especially while the Emperor peppered him with questions and theological ‘suggestions.’ But the matter came to a head in 656 when Thorismund announced a grand marriage where he planned to marry five brides in a single day. Each of his brides wer princesses of important Germanic peoples; either federates of the Empire, allies, or foreign powers. This act was too much, and the fury of the pro-monogamy faction bust out in the open. Letters were written, speeches made, and riots were fomented.

    Thorismund put down the minor revolts where they emerged and then turned his attention to the intellectual side of the attack. Although his letters come down to us only in fragments, often quoted in biographies and histories, those which come down to us show a unique grasp of the Gothic language and the art of rhetoric. At first Atta Nicetas refused to officiate at the wedding, but was forced to do so when Thorismund threatened to offer the people of the Empire a year exemption of the annual tithe. This forced the Atta against a wall and he blessed the wedding, but it did little to smother the flames of acrimony that had begun to emerge between Church and State.

    For the next several years, the fires of these passions simmered. The pro-monogamy forces and the Atta continued to release tracts supporting their position, while the supporters of Polygamy and the Emperor responded in kind. The latter faction painted their opponents as pro-Roman, anti-Gothic, and insinuated that the Atta and his supporters wished to abandon Arianism entirely and accept the Roman creed. Finally, pointing to the precedent set by Emperor Constantine I, Thorismund called a grand synod of the Gothic Church to meet in Ravenna to decide several matters of theological importance as well as address concerns about the structure and efficiency of the Church. The Atta opposed the calling of the synod, but wa eventually forced to bow to Imperial pressure.

    In the resulting council, known as First Ravenna, the Emperor’s position on polygamy as officially accepted as Church dogma. Also accepted were a number of minor reforms to the Church which strengthen the position of Monastic orders in relation to the established clergy, further defined the position of Jesus as a created divine being in relation to the Father, and reaffirmed the position of canon law in relation to imperial law. Not all of these positions followed the line preached by the Emperor, but enough did so that on those rare occasion the Imperial party backed down, it was viewed as a sop given to a defeated foe to mollify hard feelings – in such a spirit, Thorismund agreed to back down on his position of God as Father prior to the creation of Jesus. Most importantly, the matter of Polygamy itself was settled when the Emperor himself asked to address the synod and gave such a convincing speech that it left members of the clergy in tears.

    To Atta Nicetas and his supporters, this was the finl straw. They had been out maneuvered one time to many by a cagey Emperor who, they felt, cared for little except the sins of the flesh and increasing his own power. Fore the remainder of the Atta’s life, he would dedicate himself to fighting the Emperor at every stop. Although forced into a disadvantaged position, the anti-Imperial faction would rebound and following the death of Nicetas, they were able to elect their preferred candidate, Atta Doroteus in 668. This was made possible by the dip in imperial prestige following the Battle of Burgburg and Thorismund’s own ill heath and turning away from governing to deal with matters relating to his numerous children. The battles between Church and State during the reign of Thorismund the Good would harden the anti-Imperial faction and though the would never be able to overturn the decisions of First Ravenna, they would work hard during the later reign of Thorismund and his successors to build a power base for the Church that was independent of the Imperial government, and seek to chastise any Emperor which meddled too deeply in the affairs of the Church. In this, they would be only be moderately successful; from the Era of the Do-Nothing Emperors, to the Ruination and the eventual Fall of the Empire, the Gothic Church and the Gothic Empire would remain linked, like two bickering brothers who competed against one another, yet still needed one another to survive.



    NEXT: We Look to the North and the Battle of Burgburg

    [FN1] The confusingly named Battle of Burgburg has confused scholars for centuries. Not only can the exact site of the battle not be determined, but several theories have developed to explain the redundancy of its name. The most popular of these theories among scholars theorizes that the battle was named after a site where a fortified structure existed upon a hill or mountain; that is a Burg upon a Burg. However, numerous other theories exist, such as the one which states that it meant the Burg created by a man or tribe named Burg or some other etymologically similar name. Whatever the case may be, the Battle of Burgburg will be dealt with in our next chapter as we travel into parts of Europe that this timeline has yet to explore!

    [FN2] Bet you never thought we’d see a reference to out good friend Dr. Fralet from Chapter 2 again Oh, I may have been working on this for almost seven years (dear god!!!) but that doen’t mean I’ve forgotten thing Also, you may notice that I’ve definitely been sprinkling some clues throughout this chapter – and the timeline to a lesser extent – about the current state of affairs within the Gothreik. I’m keeping these necessarily vague and I don’t want to write myself in a corner, but I do have some ideas for some of the major recent events of the past few decades.

    [FN3] All dates given here are from OTL as they occurred prior to the POD. Much of the research for this chapter was taken from “Barbarian Bishops and the Churches "in Barbaricis Gentibus" During Late Antiquity” by Ralf W. Mathisen and published in Speculum Vol. 72, No. 3 as well as Early Medieval Italy: Central Power and Local Society 400-1000 by Chris Wickham. Naturally, any factual errors in this chapter are my own and not the work of the original authors!

    [FN4] Atta is the Gothic word which would roughly correspond to Dad or Daddy. Earlier in this timeline I’d given the title Fader for the Bishop of Ravenna, but that seems a little too formal for a nickname. So, I’ve done something I genuinely try not to do: I pulled a retcon!

    [FN5] According to Wickham, under the Lombards and Franks, laws were in place which initially forebade landholders from willing land to the Church or monesteries. The reason for this was so that the Church could not turn predator and reduce the the yeoman class into tenants or gain a monolopy on ariable land – as the military was derived largely from these freemen. This law was eventually overturned with the expected results. The Goths have a similar problem of needing to preserve their yeoman class for much the same reasons. However, the Emperors also need to establish the Church of the Goths so that it can compete with the Roman Orthodox Church. As a result, they allow these grants much earlier than the Lombards would in OTL, but attempt to mitigate the threat to the yeomen by limiting how much land can be granted. Other laws are also in place to preserve the Yeoman class; how successful they are, we will eventually see.

    Meanwhile, the appointment of John was done largely through the pressure of Theodemir who already and developed a friendship with the churchman. John was member of the small Roman Arian community which existed in Italy prior to the arrival of the Goths and his appointment was seen (or hoped to be seen) as representing Theodemir’s desire to work with the Romans in Italy. John eventually would become canonized by the Gothic Church shortly after his death

    [FN6] Amalaric II’s health never fully recovered from the illness he caught while battling against the Bavarians. This meant that when a virulent disease struck Ravenna in 651, his body was unable to fight if off and he passed away. Among the dead were his first born and heir Amalamir who would have actually have been a fairly dynamic ruler. But, you know, things happen As for Amalaric II’s second son (who would have been Amalaric III, had he been chosen), the young man was born with what modern scholars often interpret to be Downs Syndrome or a related disorder. He vanishes from the scholarly record after Thorismund’s ascension, but I feel comfortable in saying that his younger brother loved him deeply and had him sent to a monastery where he lived a long and fulfilling life away from court politics. There is a Gothic saint known as Amalamir the Quiet who some scholars believe to be this prince, but scholars have not confirmed this and there is some debate – though the public has readily accepted it as fact.

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    Alright, here is the chapter I promised last weekend and I apologize for the wait. This chapter, for whatever reason proved a bit difficult to write, despite the fact that I enjoyed attacking a topic which has been left, up to this point, rather vague. Also it allowed me to make nervous callbacks to earliest chapters of the timeline, and that is always fun :)

    Hopefully the next chapter will be a bit easier to write and, as such, be out quicker.

    On a personal note: My visa application has been submitted and airline ticket bought. I need to get my finger prints and biometrics done and then, assuming I get granted the student visa (and I'm not sure why I wouldn't ... I hope), I will be setting down in Scotland for school on January 8th. Wish me luck, and I am gonna try to get as much done on the timeline before then! :)
     
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    Chapter 82 Czech One, Czech Two
  • Chapter 82
    Czech One, Czech Two

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    Romanticized Depiction of a Battle between the Slavs and Gepids

    657, Nitra [OTL: Nitra, Slovakia]

    Aiza knew what they were going to find, even as they crested the hill and stared down into the river valley at the settlement. The fires had burnt out, but even from here he could smell the sickeningly familiar scent of burnt wood and flesh which hung on the air like a faint miasma. A sick feeling welled deep in his gut and and his hand fell to his belly and began to rub it absently. He hoped he wouldn’t become sick in front of the other men.

    “Looks like we won’t be buying any amber,” Badwilla said absently, a small smile crossed the large bald man’s face.

    “Shut up,” Aiza said, his voice hissed out barely above a whisper. “It looks like who ever did this is long gone, judging from the lack of fires, but we can’t be certain.” He fixed Badwilla with a withering stare and was satisfied when the large man bowed his head.

    “Whatever you said boss. We going down there?”

    Aiza nodded, “Yup. There may be survivors that we can help.” Even as he said the words, they rang hollow in his own ears – he knew the chances of anyone being alive down there were minimal. “Besides, just in case the bastards who did this are still hanging around, we need to know. I’ll be damned if I lead my caravan into an ambush.”

    “You think anyone would be stupid enough to attack a caravan from the Empire?”

    That statement was dumb enough that it didn’t even deserve a response, and so Aiza just shrugged. Without saying another word, he spurred on his horse and began the descent down into the valley as the rest of his comrades followed behind.

    The trip to the village took only about fifteen minutes, and that was with the party moving as slowly and cautiously as possible. As Aiza led the small band down the hills and closer to the village, the earth began to flatten and the trees grew patchy and soon gave way to farm and pasture lands. Soon, Aiza knew, it would be nearly impossible to remain hidden from anyone still residing in the town. Instinctively, he reached back and patted the bow on his back, knowing full well that he and his men could be struck down before he even had a chance to draw the weapon, if they were ambushed and the shooter was lucky.

    Yet, as they drew closer no arrows whistled through the air with their distinctive screams, nor could be detect the sounds of blades being drawn. In fact, there were no sounds at all, save for the babbling of the River Nistra upon whose banks the village stood and the howling of a dog.

    The village was surrounded by small wooden fence which, apparently, had done little to prevent the atrocity of taking place. Even this minimal defensive structure had been subjected to desecration, as if the attackers refused to allow even the smallest symbol of defiance to survive unscathed – sections of the fence had been set aflame and others had been viciously beaten and broken down. Aiza frowned as they drew closer and shook his head sadly. “They didn’t stand a chance,” he muttered to no one in particular. The sound of his voice in his own ears roused Aiza from his thoughts and brought him back to attention.

    Silently he cursed himself for dropping his guard for even a second, years of military experience from a lifetime prior, barked orders. Obeying them without a second thought, he effortlessly slid from the saddle of his horse and dropped to the ground, hunching over as he did so. He motioned to the three other men with him to do the same, and they did so without a second through. Drawing his bow and making it ready for an emergency he silently made his way past the fense and until the village itself.

    Together, he and his men crept into the corpse of the small town. Although the fires had burnt themselves out long ago, the smell of smoke, burnt flesh and death were much stronger here than they had been from upon the valley hill. Bodies littered the alleys between houses and the village common ground, and this caused Aiza to be both overwhelmed by a palpable wave of sadness that threatened to smash into him and drag him down into the depths, as well as a sick pride and sense of satisfaction. “At least they put up a good fight,” he said, “and didn’t go to the slaughter like sheep.”

    “What was that, Boss,” Badwilla asked in a whisper.

    “I said,” Aiza said, his voice raising in volume, “that they put up a good fight. The villagers I mean. They didn’t win, but they didn’t meekly accept their lot either. Look at that, there,” he said, pointing to an armored figure landing in the grass.

    Without waiting for a response, Aiza moved closer. The body lay face down in the grass, its expensive calvery armor covered in brown dried blood. As he came closer, a cloud of black flies swarmed up from the body and made their escape from the interlopers. Aiza coughed, and sputtered a cursed as he threw his arms up to drive the black demons away. Then he took his foot and with a kick far more savage than it needed to be, he flipped the corpse over. Blank white eyes stared out from a swollen face that was already turning black from decay, casting their blind gaze up to the sky.

    “Couldn’t even be bothered to bury their own,” Aiza said, a black ball of bile building in his heart as he said the words. “That means they were in a hurry and this was a lightening raid. We’re safe, or, at least, should be. Whoever did this is long gone. And if they weren’t, we likely have been dead a long time back. I doubt anyone who does this,” and then to illustrate his point, he cast his arm out in a wide arc to take in the expanse of the town, “would have any trouble in engaging in treachery and ambushing us.”

    “But who did this,” Badwilla asked.

    “Gepids,” Aiza said. “When I fought with Duke Erwig against Prince Theodebert, there were Gepids amongst our foes. I’d recognize their armor anywhere, after the things I saw them due when I fought for Erwig. Bastards.” That last word formed itself nearly effortlessly upon his lips, and he spat it out like a man does a wad of bitter phlem coughed up from the lungs. A wave of fear and panic washed over him as he remembered the sights and sounds of the Gepid calavery charge upon his position, years ago. He remembered lying wounded, and seeing the things they did to the bodies of his comrades while he did his best to hide under the corpses of now-dead friends.

    “But,” Badwilla said, “Why? We know that they extort tribute from the Slavic tribes here, but why would they slaughter an entire village like this?”

    Aiza swallowed a laugh – for all of the large man’s reputation as a brawler and toughman, he had never seen service in any military. He might be rough hewn, but there remained a niavity to him which still amazed Aiza. “Because, they were sending a message. If I had to reckon, I’d guess that the fair people of this village didn’t pay their tribute; either because they couldn’t, or because they refused. Either way it amounted to the same thing. The Gepids came here and wiped the place out to the last man to send a warning to the other tribes and villages nearby. They took the women and children as slaves, beat down the men of fighting age, and then slaughtered the elderly and anyone else they couldn’t take back with them.”

    The words he spoke were matter of fact, but the tone was deeply bitter, betraying the rage he felt building within himself. All of this, Aiza calmly noted, as if the words and emotions were coming from somewhere, someone, else. He felt separated from himself, almost as if he were watching his own actions like they were being performed by an actor in a play. No one was more shocked than he, when he pulled down his trousers, grabbed his member and let flow a stream of piss onto the face of the dead Gepid warrior.

    “Why did I do that,” he absently wondered to himself. And the answer came back immediately – an overpowering rage which pounded in his temples and caused his vision to momentarily blur. Rage! These people had been innocent. Innocent. They might have been heathens, and there were many back in the Gothreik that might have called them barbarians, but they had been human, had been good. They had been innocent. He felt a scream building in his chest and clamped it down with only the greatest of effort so that it escaped from his clenched teeth as a high pitch whistle of air, and was followed by the sound of air sucked back in through that same clenched jaw. Whistle, suck, whistle, suck. He repeated the pattern until slowly the red heat left his cheeks and some measure of calm and control returned to him.

    Hitching his trousers up again, Aiza looked at his two companions who stared back at him, mouths agape and worried expressions painted upon their faces. “What,” he asked in his best approximation of his normal voice, a mimic of a wry smile upon his lips, “I really had to go and didn’t have the chance.” They didn’t say anything, their eyes casting over him as one does at a well trusted dog which has just begun to snarl.

    He waved them off with his hand and walked away, deep in thought. Something had to be done to stop this from happening again. He has been trading in these lands for years now – ever since he took his final payment for his services to Duke Erwig and invested them in a wagon, goods, and a sellsword and set off to make his life as a merchant far to the north of the Empire and away from its wars, its treachery, and its barbarism masked as civilization. He knew the Gepids bled the region of its gold. The Slavs made easy targets; most were simple farmers, their villages were largely independent, and their position along the famed amber road meant that wealth flowed through the land. Easy pickings for an amibitious warlord or king – and the older he got the less Aiza saw a differene between the two. But even the worst of the Gepids had never planned a campaign of wholesale slaughter.

    “So, uh, Boss, what do we do?”

    Aiza looked up at Badwilla and sighed. “We do what we can. No one’s coming back here. They’re long gone. So we are going back to the caravan tonight and camping. We’ll set up a double watch, just to be careful. Even if the Gepids are gone that doesn’t mean that there aren’t brigands in the area. We can’t afford to let our guard down. Then, tomorrow, we all come back here and we give the dead a proper burial. The Slavs they,” he trailed off as if in thought for a second and then said, “they cremate their dead. We’ll pile the bodies in the largest building that’s still standing and set it afire.”

    “But, uh, the Church won’t like that. My priest once told me that the only proper burial is in the ground. Only pagans burn their dead.”

    Anger shot through Aiza once again, and Badwilla must have seen it because he lurched back as if stung. Had he ever seen Badwilla scared before? It didn’t matter. “Let me be clear, right here and right now. I couldn’t give two shits for what the Church will or won’t allow. First, these people here aren’t Christian, and we’ll respect them the way they’d want us two. Second of all, the Church and their God didn’t lift a finger to stop the slaughter when we rode against Theodemir and his Lombard and Gepid allies. If he can’t be bothered to intervene then, I doubt he’s gonna do so much as glance in our direction when we burn the dead.”

    Badwilla’s jaw dropped for the second time in just a few minutes and he hurriedly crossed himself and mouthed a prayer.

    It was their third companion, Totila who spoke next – for the first since since they had caught wiff of what was head of them. “And what do we do if we find any more Gepids? I’m afraid we don’t have enough water to pee on them all.” At that Totila, who was older than the other two men barked out a laugh at his own wit.

    “We let them rot,” Aiza said, the potent finality dripping from the words. “We let them rot like they deserve.” And then he smiled, and it was a horrid thing; the sort of smile he had rarely had since the war, “But, if you do happen to imbibe too much wine tonight. Well. Don’t let it go to waste, eh?” And then he laughed himself.

    “Now, let’s get a move on. We have to get back to camp before its too late. And after we deal with the dead tomorrow we go to the next village to warn them. I don’t know if the Gepids intend to try this again on any village in their path, but we owe everyone a duty to warn everyone we can.”

    And that was that. Badwilla and Totilla simply nodded as if their boss had just told them to go and clean the mess dishes. As they trode back to their horses, Aiza turned and allowed himself one last look back the desecrated ground. In his mind he saw the carnage as it must have played out, interspliced with memories from his own time in the war. “This won’t happen again,” he said to whatever ghosts might be listening, “I promise you that. You will be avenged.” [FN1]



    “Strange in a Strange Land: King Aiza and the Founding of the Kingdom of Moravia” In Journal Restoration Era Studies. Volume XXXXIII Issue 1 (2000)
    By: Dobromil Sluhaveles

    If stories are to be believed, the ethnogenesis of the Moravian people came sometime during the midpoint of the 7th century – scholars have placed it anywhere between the the years 645 and 660 – when representatives of various local Slavic villages and tribes gathered to form an alliance of defense against the Gepid peoples to the South. Known to history and national myth as the Council of the Tribes, though the exact location of this council if it even occurred remains lost to memory, the instigation for the meeting had been a particularly vicious series of Gepid raids into the lands of northern neighbors. At this Council, a particularly unlikely man arose as a prominent leader and would be elected first as War Leader and, later, King.

    Aiza, the protogeniture of the Aizarid dynasty, was not a native Slav. Instead, we are told, he was a merchant and native of the Gothic Empire who had become well known in the region due to his activities as a trader. However, he won some regard in organizing the population of several neighboring villages in repelling a Gepid attack and used the popularity of this action in organizing the Council to coordinate the defense of the region. Likely, he already possessed connections to local tribal elites as a result of his occupation as a merchant, and he may have been considered to be an ideal candidate due to the fact that, as a foreigner, he would have possessed no power base, making his overreaching of authority unlikely. What is surprising is that this unlikely candidate would not only lead the Slavic defenses, but would become a staunch defender of the culture and rights and even win a decisive victory against an army sent by Thorismund, the ruler of his own nation.


    Unfortunately, despite the importance that Aiza and his descendants have had in the formation of the modern identity of the Moravian nation, we have precious little that was written about him during the time of his own life. The only extant documentation to illustrate the life of King Aiza is a few scant references within the Gepid Chronical as well as an extended narrative, which cumulates in the Battle of Bergberg found in Hunuil of Nizza’s questionable biography of Emperor Thorismund the Good. Sigisbairht, usually the go-to source for those seeking detailed information about Gothic Empire during the the Early and Middle periods offers little, as his account is clearly taken directly from Hunuil and offers little independent information save coloring.

    This is unfortunate because the sheer importance of King Aiza to the Moravians as their founding father, means that numerous legends began to spring up around life, likely, during his own lifetime and soon after his death. From the founding of the Kingdom of Moravia to the modern day, the nation exists in many ways as a frontier nation, and its history has been dominated by its position as a crossroads where several cultural and political zones meet. Due to the importance of Aiza, this has meant that his image has been consistently reworked to meet the political, religious and cultural needs of the nation. As a result, several different King Aizas have emerged over the centuries and it the work of Historians to wade through these different accounts in the search for truth. For instance, in the realm of religion, Hunuil of Nizza depicts a Gothic merchant who forsook the religion of his people to war against godly Christians as well as to saite his lusts by marrying eight different Slavic women and siring nearly 20 children (and scandalous number of wives, even for te polyamorous Gothic rulers of the era). Three generations later, when Aiza’s grandson, Svatopluk embraced conversion to Christianity from Constantinople, efforts were made to recast the dynasty’s founder of a pious Christian ruler who held fast to his faith despite the pagan nature of his followers. Then, in the 9th century, when Moravia fell under the influence of the Theutish Empire, Aiza was once again recast as an opponent to Christianity and a defender of the traditional faith of his Slavic followers.

    With the ideological lenses which Aiza was viewed through from the very beginning of his reign, what can the despairing historian say with any certainty? Surprisingly, the answer is: quite a bit. For instance, all of the earliest sources agree with Aiza was an independent merchant who plied his trade both within the Gothic Empire as well as the Slavic lands which became the Kingdom of Moravia. We know that the prosperous Amber Road passed through the region, linking the Baltic lands to the North with the lands of the Empire in the South. Although it is conjuncture, it is likely that Aiza was involved with the Amber trade; possibly bringing gold, weapons and goods from the Gothic Empire north in exchange for amber and furs. This would have put him in a advantageous position to establish relationships with many of the tribal and village leaders throughout the Slavic regions. We also know that he fought in what later became known as the Kunis Wars, especially in the wars between Emperor Theodebert II and Queen Adela and Duke Erwig. Later tradition states that he served under the Duke, but this information is not recorded under the reign of his Grandson and so, although its certainly plausible, we cannot say it with any certainty.

    Furthermore, all of the accounts, contemporary, early and later, agree that Aiza came upon the ruins of a village which had suffered at the hands of Gepid raiders, and this sparked his crusade to clear the land of invaders. We know from outside sources that the Gepids often vassalized tribal leaders of their Slavic neighbors to the North, extracting tribute from them, and raided those who would not submit. Furthermore, the decades of the 650 and 660s were periods of intense unrest within the Kingdom of the Gepids as the four sons of King Mundo II vied with eachother for control of the Kingdom. This period of civil war and unrest not only allowed the northern Slavs to declare their independence, but it also allowed local Gepid warlords to raid and plunder the Slavic lands without constraint by their overlords. In fact, the Gepid Chronicle lists a particularly devastating raid which sallied North in 657 under command of one Hangistreiks Cunimund, which possibly is the raid which Aiza was initially responding too, though the Chronicle does not record a defeat on the part of Cusimund’s forces which would line up with the stories of Aiza rising to prominence due to such a victory. [FN2]

    We also know that some Council of the Tribes was called and at this gathering Aiza was elected to be a Warleader, and that he did not assume the title of King until following his victory at Burgbuerg, which we can confidently date to the year 663. At the time, Aiza’s Kingdom was likely centered upon what would become the Duchy of Nitra and it was only following his victory of Burbburg an assumption of the title of King that he was able to add the Czech tribes to his Confederation. And it would not be until the reigns of his son and grandson that the political center of the kingdom permanently shifted towards the region of Moravia, giving the Kingdom its name.

    It can therefore be assumed that the Battle of Burgburg is the central event of importance for the establishment of King Aiza’s realm. Certainly, based on what we can ascertain from sources, it seemed so for his foreign contemporaries. Now, it seems safe to turn our attention towards the account of Hunuil of Nizza in his biography of King Thorismund. Here we are told that in the year 662, word reached the imperial court in Ravenna of a new ‘strongman’ that had arised to the North and who was harassing their Gepid allies. In the typical fashion of Hunuil, the author states that rumors had actually reached the ears of Thorismund a year earlier, but he chose to ignore them, until an ambassador of the Gepids – then ruled by Mundo’s third son, Thrasaric – complaining of the threat and begging the Gothic Emperor for assistance. The Gepid ambassador told terrible tales of the deeds of Slavs who raided deep into Gepid lands and then repulsed any and all efforts to chastise them.

    At this point, Thorismund seems to have been shamed into action. Hunuil records a, possibly fictitious, scene where the ambassador recounts the assistance that the Gepids gave to Thosimund’s own Father. The author than states that “he [Thorismund] was a brute and the most unchristian of men. But he was no coward, for whenthe Good Lord had been forging his ancestors, it was declared that no Son of Amal would ever lack in the manly virtues. So, upon hearing thesechastizing words, Thorismund felt grave shame and he vowed to send an ambassador north to ascertain the threat and come to the truth in this disagreement.”

    The Ambassador that Thorismund chose was his nephew Amalaric (the text clearly states the familial relationship, but does not indicate who Amalaric’s Father was). Amalaric put together a delegation and traveled North to the court of Aiza, where the account stated “they were treated in a disrespectful manner. No sooner had they arrived at the Court than they were handed rough sewn hides and furs. They were then told to put these on, for ‘Reiks Aiza wil only see those who are dressed as civilized Slavs and not in the garb of rough barbarians.’” They apparently did so, with many complaints, and were then kept waiting for many hours. When they were finally ushered in to see the Reiks, he was flanked by his several wives who witnessed the discussion. When the Goths complained about the presence of the women, Aiza stated “It is well known that the Goths complied with the rule of a woman [Queen Adela] and so it should be no shock to them that we Slavs also see fit to take their insight into consideration.” Whether this was a practice of the region’s early Slavs – which is unlikely - or simply a ploy to further offend the Goths, it worked to further the agitation felt by the diplomats. By end of the next day, Almalaric and his delegation had departed and were on the return trip to Ravenna, having been fed a “breakfast of the most foul gruel by their hosts, having been told that the watery grain and salted gristle helped keep Slavic warriors strong and lusting for battle.” [FN3]

    The question nor arises; what did Aiza hope to accomplish by this display. He had already begun his campaign to defend his lands against the Gepids and insulting the Gothic ambassadors in such a way assured that he would face two foes instead of one. Several options present themselves. First, he way of wished to engage in the display to actually dissuade the Goths from attacking, by highlighting the supposed poverty and backwardness of his adopted people. But, if in this was the case, he badl misguided. This option, however, does not right true, as he was himself a Goth and would have possessed some idea of how the Gothic Emperor would respond to an imperial relative being disrespected in such a manner. The Second option is that Aiza wished to suppress discontent amongst the Slavic peoples by openly and dramatically breaking with his background by insulting the Gothic ambassadors, effectively showing all that he had no home in the Gothreik to return to and that his fate was firmly tied to his adopted people. Third, we can hypothesize that he was so confident of his coalition that he was openly antagonizing the Goths, hoping to secure a crushing victory which would secure his power and position amongst the Slavs and forge them into a nation. Fourth and finaly, we can accept later stories as fact that Aiza served under Duke Erwig and the Slavic ruler possessed a gruge against not only the Gepids, but also the heir of the man who had defeated his Lord in battle. In realtity, the answer is probably a mix of several of these different scenarios.

    No matter the thoughts of the fledgling Slavic warlord, soon to turn King, his actions caused a firestorm within the Court of Emperor Thorismund the Good. Despite the reputation of Thorismund as a drunkard and playboy, he had brought stability to the Goths during his reign and turned back what major threats that had emerged. The thought of a Goth who had allied with pagan barbarians against his own people must have infuroriated the Emperor. We are told by Hunuil that, “Thorismund was given to great wroth at the treatment of his nephew by the sinner Aiza. Though a wicked man himself, he viewed many man who turned away from the Light of Christ, the Divinely Created, as a threat not only to the Empire but to the world itself. For, should a Christiran be able to embrace Pagan gods and disrespect Christ’s vice-regent upon Earth, then it made a mockery of not only the Empire but also the Will of God.” He soon dispatched envoys to the King of the Gepids and agreed to an alliance for the following campaign season.

    In 633, a Gothic army under the command of Thorismund himself traveled North to meet with a larger force lead by the Gepid King Thrasaric. Although our sources are vague as to the site of the Battle of Burgburg, they clearly state that the combined forces of the Goths and Gepids traveled North through Pannonia to the place where the Danube and the Morava Rivers converge. This would place them roughly in the territory around the modern day city of Ladislawskyhrad [OTL Bratislav], but alternative sites have been given, including the city of Brun and, much less likely, Rip Mountain which is located far away from both the Danube of the Marava. [FN4]

    We are told in contemporary sources, as well as the legends and tales of later eras, that the Goths and Gepids encountere a region where Aiza had erected a series of fortresses, the tallest of which existed upon a a hill or mountain – and here we once again we must give credence to the traditional view that the battle occurred somewhere near Ladislawskhrad, the western edges of the Carpathian Mountains bein on the outskirts of the modern city. Thorismund and Thrasaric attempted tobesiege each of the seven fortresses in turn, but soon found themselves outmaneuvered and overwhelmed. The Battle of Burgburg was to last for three days, but by its end, Thrasaric was dead and Thorismund and his forces were left retreating south, harried and harassed by Slavic paristans their entire way. This would prove to be the greatest defeat of Thorisund’s reign. Although no formal treaty seems to have been concluded betweenthe Slavs and their Southern foes, the war was all but over. Thrasaric’s death threw the Gepid kingdom into further turmoil as his younger brother attempted to sieze the throne, and Thorismund sulked back home where he tried to put the experience behind him as feuding between his many sons quickly diverted his attention from the Empire’s northern border.

    As for Aizar, the Battle of Burgburg secured his position amongst the Slavs. The prestige allowed him to be elected King, and increase his authority. Shortly thereafter he was able to add the Czech tribes to his confederation, and probably several of the southern Lechian tribes. He would spend the rest of his life raiding against the Gepids as well as invading the lands of the Bavarians who’s eastern marches contained many Slavic peoples. He would eventually die in bed, in 681 was succeeded by his son Miroslav.

    Aizarid Dynasty would rule, growing rich on the Amber trade and acting as a bulwark against the expansion of the Gepids, Bavarians and Goths, until the disruptions of the Theut in the 9th century. During this time, the would eventually forego their devotion to the traditional paganism of the people they ruled and invite Orthodox missionaries into the realm during the 8th century under Aiza’s grandson Ladislaw. However, even here, the peculiar dynamics of the dynasty showed themselves, as they refused to accept the Arian Christianity of Goths and Gepids, as well as the Orthodoxy of the Roman Pope who must have been seen as a shadow of his former power following the Ruination, and instead accepted the influence of the Orthodoxy of Constantinople, allying themselves for a time with the Emperor of the East and not the West.

    [FN1] Aiza’s experiences serving under Duke Erwig were not the most positive. Aiza was the younger son of a Gothic freeman and did not stand to inherit much land. As many did in this situation, he took up service to the local lord, Adela’s chief ally, Duke Erwig. As a result, as a young man, he fought for Erwig against Theodebert II first for Queen Adela, and later during the Duke’s service to the King of the Suebi. However, following Erwig’s defeat, he left many of the common soldiers behind, Aiza amongst them – a fact that engendered no small amount of bitterness in the young man. Aiza took Theodebert’s offer of general amnesty as did most of the remaining soldiers of Erwig, and took what earnings he had saved and invested them into a caravan business trading between the Empire and the northern tribes. In the years since, he has grown moderately well off.

    [FN2] Basically, an attempt to create an Eastern German compound which would mean “Horse Lord”, with Reiks being the established ATL term for Duke amongst the Goths and their Eastern Gothic brethren and the first part coming from Hangistaz, the Proto-German word for Stallion and congrate with the Old English Hengest (and, the compound being similar to, but not a cognate, with the OTL term Henchman). Sadly, I’m not entirely sure what the Gothic form of Hengest was after some research. I’m operating under the assumption that written and, thereby, ‘official’ Gepidic hasn’t diverged much from Gothic yet, despite the large Slavic substrata which is emerging in the spoken language during this time.


    [FN3] At this point, I think that it’s the time to admit that much of this chapter is actually inspired by a real life character known as Samo who forged a coalition of Slavic tribes into an ‘empire’ during the reign of Dagobert of the Franks. Like Aiza, Samo was a Merchant of his respective people who went native and defeated an army sent by his former King. Also, like Aiza, Samo was elected to fight a foreign foe 0 in his case that foe was the Avars. Since the Gepids control the same region as the Avars did in OTL and have become expert horse-lords, it seemed probable that they also would raid and try to establish dominance over the Slavs to their North. And, really, the story of Samo is just so unique and outstanding, that I had to work elements of it into this TL. Mind you, although there are distinct similarities between Aiza and Samo, there are also noticeable differences (the size of the realms, for instance. Aiza’s Kingdom is more concentrated that Samo’s Empire. Also, whereas Samo’s realm disintegrated after his death, it has already been established that Aiza’s kingdom will continue for some time).

    [FN4] This suggestion of the Rip Mountain being the sight of the Battle of Burgburg was theory of a Moravian Yearningist scholar who believed that Hunuil’s description of the army’s movements was tailored by political motivations. By making it seem as is Thorismund’s forces had traveled more shallowly into the realm of Aiza, it humiliated the Emperor. He also pointed ot numerous legends surrounding Rip Mountain, including stories of major battles, to propose that the Gepids and Goths had penetrated further into the Slavic lands than was initially reported. He also pointed out that the name of the battle, Burgburg, could indicate a fortress on a mountain, and that Rip Mountain was one of the most prominent hills of the Eastern extends of the Moravian lands. He was, of course, mistaken. But it hasn’t kept a memorial to King Aiza being placed at the crown of Rip Mountain and for certain schools of scholars and nationalists still proposing it to this day.

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    Okay, this one was just fun to write. I'd have my mind on writing an ATL equivalent of Samo's Empire for some time and was just waiting to turn my attention to the northern borders of the Empire. As mentioned in the footnotes, the IRL story was too good not to riff off of and include herein, because it's one of those stories that, if we didn't have documentary proof, some would claim it was completely fabricate or else ASB. It also serves my purpose by showing that the people who surround the borders of the Empire are not simply a grey space on the map labeled 'barbarians' and that they are, in fact, being influenced by the events occurring in the Western and Eastern Empire and reacting to these events as best we could.

    Why does Aiza's Kingdom prove longer lasting than Samo's? Well, part of that is luck and political abilities but, the bigger consideration is that the two major threats (the Gepids and the Goths and, of course, to a lesser extent the Bavarians) are closer and a bit stronger than their counterparts that Samo faced in OTL.

    I believe the next chapter will focus on the reign of Thorismund's sons with a special focus on the developments within the lands of Senatorial Italy. As we move closer to the reign of the previously mentioned Theodoric II, I'm also going to want to turn my attention to the Franks and Saxons for reasons that will soon become very obvious.

    That being said, I'm not sure when the next chapter will follow. Currently I'm packing up my apartment and will be spending the next two week pretty much working on that and on the move dealing with last minute things. I officially leave my apartment on January 4th and fly out for Scotland on the 8th (if I can get another chapter in during that period, all the better, but I'm not hopeful) and after that I suspect I'll be taking some days to get settled and prepped for my newest adventure. But I promise that this break will not be as long as previous ones - I'm too geared up and biting at the bit to write about the Ruination(!) - but please give me a few weeks to get settled. On a side note, any good vibes you can send my way would be greatly appreciated - I'm still waiting on my student visa and though I'm pretty confident I'll get it, the deadline of my flight is looming ever closer! :)

    Oh yeah, any comments and questions are welcomed. Seriously; lets get more than two or three responses here ;)
     
    Chapter 83 Maybe Everything that Dies Someday Comes Back
  • Chapter 83
    Maybe Everything that Dies Someday Comes Back


    AlbinusBasilius.jpg

    Consular Diptych of Anicius Boetius, Consul during at the time of the Assassination of Athaneric I


    “The ideal state should strive to mimic the order established within the heavens themselves. The Emperor, rightfully, resembles nothing less than the Father himself, for he brings order throughout the realm. The Church is, of course, the Holy Spirit for it embodies wisdom and knowledge. And the Senate is the Son, for it embodies the Word of the citizens” – “The Republic and the Empire” Aquila Mancini

    “An Assembly of Citizens: Senatorial Italy in the Middle Empire and the Amalamirian” Journal Restoration Era Studies. Volume XXXXV Issue 2 (2002)
    By: Dr. Ricardo Prugna

    On May 24th, 678 a crime was committed which shook the Gothic-Roman Empire to its core. On that day, the Emperor Athaneric I was holding court at the Curia Julia before the Senate, when a seemingly possessed man appeared and beseeched the Emperor for the laying of hands so that the demons might be driven from him. Athaneric, known for his piety, amongst many other traits, acquiesced and moved closer to the afflicted than. However, as he drew near, the man produced a dagger which had been hidden away from the Senatorial guards and proceeded to leap upon the Emperor and stab him repeatedly before being subdued by the guards. [FN1]

    Although Gothic Emperors had been driven from the throne by coups or rebellions, several times during the history of the Empire, this marked the first successful assassination of a ruling Gothic monarch since Theodoric first arrived in Italy. Sigisbert the Frothiband, our principal source for the event, though he wrote more than four decades later, tells us that the assassination itself was deeply shocking to the people of the Empire. However, what was worse, was the everpresent rumors that the assassination had been carried out either with the knowledge of, or the full support of, the Roman Senate. Although a full investigation was ordered by Amalamir II, the successor of ill-fated Athaneric and the late-Emperor’s younger brother, and carried out by the Senate, the only men punished were the guards who had failed to find the dagger when the madman entered the confines of the Curia.

    The punishment of the guards did little to stop the rumors, and infact seemed to inflame them all the more so, so that Amalaric II spent the entirety of his reign with a cloud of illegitimacy hanging over him. We are told by Sigisbert that “From Rome to Ravenna, the streets were full of chatter. Everyone spoke of their own theories, but all agreed that a most foul deed had been committed and that the perpetrators had gone unpunished. For it was well known in those days that members of the illustrious Senate had conspired with certain Gothic Reiks to overturn the will of the Garune, and Thorismund the Good, and set to replace Athaneric with his brother Amalaric.”

    Whether or not a conspiracy was actually hatched in the year 678 is impossible to determine at this late date, well over a thousand years after the actors themselves had been laid to rest. But it seems likely, for, as well shall see, the Senate had a vested interest in the removal of Athaneric I – an Emperor who of bold vision, but one who lacked the political skills to make his dreams a reality – who was brazenly attempting to undermine the power and privlidges which the Senate had accrued under the reign of the Gothic Emperors and which they had long since come to see as theirs by natural right.

    Perhaps even more astounding is the fact that the Senate had any such powers to begin with. An institution which had seen its authority and powers continually eroded since the dawn of the Augustinian Princep nearly seven centuries prior, and which had been stripped of even these vestiges by the reforms of Dioceltian, had managed to recover to such an extent that it now possessed more power than at any other time since the collapse of the Roman Republic. In order to understand how such a dramatic development occurred, it will be beneficial to briefly sketch the history of the Roman Senate from the Late Roman period through the first centuries of the Restoration Era.

    As mentioned, the Roman Senate was stripped of its remaining powers under the Diocletian Reforms which brought about the advent of the Domination Era of the Roman Empire. The prestige of the institution was further undermined by the establishment of a rival Senate in Constantinople by the Emperor Constantine. During the last century of sole Roman rule in the West, the Senate was largely reduced to a mere municipal body and, though the rank of Senator still carried with it a certain amount of prestige and influence, the body had largely ceased to be able to project any power outside of the confines of Rome itself, a city which was long ceased to be the heart of the Empire it had birthed.

    This state of affairs began to change, ironically, with the overthrow of the last native Roman Emperors in the West. The arrival of the German Odoacer in 476 and his proclamation as King of Italy marked an important point of divergence from the previous status quo. A foreigner of non-native stock, Odoacer found himself relying upon the advice of the Senate in order to cement his rule over the whole of Italy and to legitimize his reign. Though he was violently overthrown by the Ostrogothic King Theodoric in 493, his successor largely maintained a similar relationship with the Senate, seeing the body as an important source of counsel and advice.

    The Senate gained even more authority under Theodoric’s heir and successor Theodemir the Great. Following a serious rebellion by the native Romans, or Valhos, early in his reign, Theodemir took the novel step of reorganizing the settlement of Gothics and other Germans within the realm, restricting them to a region in northern Italia and southern Jaile which corresponds closely with the borders of the modern day nation of Gothreike. For those regions of Italy south of the newly established Gothic homeland, Theodemir reached an accord with the Senate which granted them limited legislative and appointment powers, but which preserved the right of Imperial veto. This was seen as an attempt to placate the native Latin peoples of Italy that they would maintain their liberties under Gothic leadership, and it proved largely successful.

    The powers of the Senate were further entrenched under the leadership of Consul Aquila Marcini. A closer ally of Emperors Amalaric I and Theodebert I, Marcini was able to take the then-largely ceremonial position of Consul and imbue it with some of the luster and power of it’s Republican past. Acting as a close advisor and friend of Amalaric I and the tutor of Theodebert I, Marcini was able to accrue a great deal of power and prestige, not only for the Consulship, but the Senate as a whole. By the end of his sixth and last term, the Senate had truly managed to expand its power throughout all of sub-Gothic Italia.

    Much of this power came as a direct result of Marcini’s closer relationship with the Gothic Emperors, as well as the needs of the government for revenue throughout the Fourth Punic War. The end of this war brought the Senate new opportunities, but also new challenges. No future Consul was ever able to establish such a close relationship with the Gothic Emperors as Marcini had. In fact, Amalamir I, Theodebert’s brother and successor, as well as many of the Gothic Reiks, began to view the Senate as a foreign element within their Empire and a potential rival power bloc. However, the financial and military difficulties faced by the Empire during the reign of Amalamir and latter, meant that the Senate remained essential to the continued stability of the Empire.

    During the era known as the Kunis Wars, which followed Amalamir’s dramatic death while seeking to aid the Eastern Empire, the Senate continued to give support to Queen Adela who largely ruled from behind the throne through her husband and, later, son. Adela viewed the Senate as an important base of support throughout her reign, and was willing to offer lower taxes to Senatorial Italy – a large concession, as the Empire relied upon Italy for much of it’s tax revenue – in exchange for continued military support against the Rauthering raiders which first began to make their dramatic entrances into the Western Empire during this time, as well as rebellions which plagued her time in power. [FN2]

    As the Empire reached its mature Middle stage, the Senate was at the height of its power. By this point, they had developed a pattern of recognizing and joining the winning side in the many internal conflicts of the Gothic Empire and, when they had chosen wrong initially, a admirable ability to recognize their error and make amends with the victors. In this, they were helped by the fact that over a century and a half of Kingly and Imperial favor or disinterest had allowed them to solidify their power over all of Senatorial Italy – governors were appointed by the Senate (and though the Emperor retained veto power, Emperors rarely took such recourse) and often came from Senatorial families, the same too was true of tax collectors, minters, port authorities and nearly every other type of government appointee. Only in military matters was the Senate’s power not all encompassing, and even here Emperors usually made the habit of taking the advice of the Senate and appointing military commanders in Italy from their ranks. Go great was their power that in Post-Imperial Italy, the title Senator often carried with it an assumption of nobility equal to the Gothic title of Reiks. This, despite the fact that it is likely that no Senatorial families of any standing survived Frithunanths I’s purges following the Fall of Rome.

    This power extensive power bloc within the Empire which ran parallel and separate to that of the Gothic Reiks and the Garune was both seen by Emperors as a potential source of support against their own noblemen and also filled them with concertation. Although the Senate was able to secure a promise of amnesty from the victorious Emperor Theodebert II in exchange for turning over Adela’s son and heir, the Emperor was not slow to forget that they had initially supported his rival and enemies. He appears to have taken some efforts to chastise the Senate, including officially vetoing a number of their appointments and pieces of legislation, but was prevented from doing more by his need for their support in his campaigns against the Suebi King in Spania and the Bavarian incursions. His son, Thorismund developed a more traditional and hands-off relationship with the Senate and relations during his reign where, if not warm, then significantly less cold.

    At the cusp of the Amalamirain Coup, the Senate to the casual observer would have resembled the same body as in centuries past. The Senate was comprised of the most powerful and prestigious Latin families of Italy. As in the past, they elected two Consuls each year and the old restriction of a Consul being unable to serve two consequitive terms had been resurrected. The body served as an officially advisory body for the Emperor as it had for centuries, and had reacquired it’s old Pricipate role of debating and passing legislation.

    The resemblance to the Senate of the past was not missed by the Senators themselves, and they made every effort to reaffirm their body’ perigree and history. Throughout the 6th and 7th centuries, there was an acceleration of the building of public works in Rome and surrounding communities, and each as stamped with SPQR as tradition dictated. Public baths, libraries, and especially Churches became the currency which the Senate used to beautify the city where they resided and to impress the population of their wealth and power. The fact that the population of Rome had shrunk significantly since the the city’s height made little difference to the Senators, leading to travelers writing that the city was taking on the character of an aging and gaudy woman, decking herself out in the newest fashions to distract from her age and growing poverty. Later writers would come to refer to Rome as a Sepulcher City, though how much of this comes from depictions of its Post-Fall state and the Senator’s city is hard to determine. [FN3]

    Because of the Senate’s devotion to the appearance of tradition, it is often difficult to truly comprehend the many differences which had taken place in the body of the centuries of the Late Dominate and the Gothic-Roman Era. Trade restrictions had long been abandoned by the Senate and it was now permissible for Senators to engage in trade, though disruptions to the Mare Nostrum trade networks in the West meant that most Senators were landed aristocrats which owned vast swaths of land throughout the Italian peninsula, and sometimes in Spania as well. Due to this, travel restrictions had also long ago faded into memory, though the need for the Senate to meet meant that Senators were required to reside in Rome at least six months out of the year: usually coinciding with the Emperor’s traditional visits during the Winter months. The size of the Senate has also expanded. Although it had officially been capped at 600 members during the reign of Augustus, and this number had never changed, for much of its history the number rarely reached to 200 active members. By the time of the Middle Empire, and the fact that Senatorial rank had begun to be inherited from fathers to sons, the numbers had begun to swell; though the residency requirements likely limited the number of active Senators to roughly 300 to 350 Senators at any given time. Finally, following encouragement by Mancini during his years as Consol, the Senate had taken to its legislative and judicial roles with an energy which continued throughout into the Middle Empire, turning the Roman Senate into a dynamic governmental body. Many of these laws and judgement related inheritance and land management, as is to be expected from a society which continued to develop in a more rural direction, but laws were also set in place to keep the roads safe for travelers and for the upkeep of public utilities. It is likely that, as a result of the Senate’s actions, Latin Law continued to eclipse its Gothic equivalent in sophistication, so much so that many of the Imperial decrees within the Gothic lands were simply mildy modified Senatoral laws.

    This led Yearningst Historians to attempt to depict Senatorial Italy as a veritable rebirth of the Roman Republic within the confines of the Gothic-Roman Empire; likely influences by the evolution of the Senate in the Eastern Empire over the centuries and the reintroduction of powerful Popular Assemblies in that State at the time. This view was the dominant until the modern era, where a reevaluation of Senatorial Italy occurred coinciding with the collapse of Gothic and Rhoman gains in the decades after their victory in the War of Civilizations. To many modern historians, the very aristocratic nature of Senatorial Italy precluded it being a true rebirth of Republican ideals amongst the Latin peoples of Italy. To them, it resembled nothing so much as the oligarchic states which would emerge in the region during the Theutish Era. However, these scholars go too far in their criticism of Yearningist historiography. Although it is true that the Senate was aristocratic in nature, this in no way differentiates it from the rest of the Roman world where there had long been an association of the nation with the aristocracy – only in the Gothic lands did we continue to see yeomen continue to maintain their rights as a class. However, the presence of the Senate probably did more to perpetuate Republican values and Roman traditions during the Early and Middle Empire than any other institution. The fact that late-Roman surnames continued amongst the Senatorial class of Italy when they were dropped in the rest of the Latin world is but one example of this influence. Furthermore, the influence of Post-Fall Italian Senators on the Rhoman Senate in Constantinople was likely great and responsible for the developing of that body eventually into a truly legislative body during the Theutish Era and later.


    No matter the republican merit to the Senate by later historians, the fact remains that by the time of Emperor Athaneric, the Senate had become an institution which was powerful enough to become a threat to an ambitious Emperor.

    inherited from his father Thorismund the Good a scholarly bent and appreciation for the past, but not his father’s lethargic nature. Athaneric had been elected by the Garune as his Father’s Co-King in 664 while still a young man, in an effort to solidify the succession. Although Thorismund often feuded with the Gothic Church, he was well enough respected by the Reiks that they bowed to his will. However, the Senate proved less amiable than the Gothic lords, pointing out that such an election prior to the death of the reigning Emperor violated tradition, and were less than impressed with Athaneric’s performance pleading his case before their assembly. The political logjam was eventually broken when Thorismund agreed to the lowering of Italian taxes for a period of five years and the appointment of several officials which he had been reticent of confirming – which had probably been the Senate’s goal all along. However, the obstinance of the Senate to confirm him as Co-Emperor would had ramifications as it apparently convinced Athaneric that the Senate had grown haughty and needed to be brought to heel. [FN4]


    Athaneric spent the of his Father’s reign serving throughout the Empire, using the opportunity to learn about the internal workings of the Empire as well as to make important connections which would serve him well upon becoming the sole Emperor upon his Father’s death. However, Athaneric remained a deeply ambitious Co-Emperor, but one who seemed incapable of working well with others. The result is that many of his grand plans often refused to come to fruitions, and this alienated many of his would-be allies.

    When Thorismund entered in his final illness in 673, there appears to have formed an official opposition to Athaneric which coalesced around his younger brother Amalamir. Amalamir, like his father and brother, were well educated, and seemed to have inherited from his father a certain amiability which many felt would make him a supple Emperor and unlikely to rock the boat. In the words of one official, quoted by Sigisbert, “Amalamir can speak three languages, but has nothing of interest to say in any of them.”

    Luckily for Athaneric, his father had been beloved by the Gothic Reiks and few wanted to take the steps needed to reverse the late Emperor’s will. And, even if they had, no precedent existed to removing a legitimately elected Emperor, save by rebellion, and that was a step which the amiable Amalamir had no intention of pursuing. Instead, he had been willed extensive lands in the western Gothlands by his father, and he departed almost immediately to take control of them; a leave that Athaneric was more than willing to grant him, in order to remove his brother from Ravenna and away from any potential conspirators.

    The short reign of Athaneric, which lasted only from 673 through 678, deserves a work of its own and cannot be adequately covered here. It is merely suffice to say that many of the tendencies he revealed during his time as Co-Emperor continued into his actual reign and he showed no despire or ability to moderate himself or learn from such failures as his 674 invasion of the Franks which saw his army badly bloodied and forced to retreat, or his meddling in the affairs of Spania which failed to dislodge Framtane, which was then serving as the region’s Preatorian Prefect, and was so popular that word of his removal lead to a spontaneous revolt against the Emperor. The situation was only saved by the hurried intervention of many Gothic Reiks who negotiated a compromise where Framtane turned over several estates to Athaneric in exchange for remaining in his position. [FN5]

    Snubbed twice, Athaneric turned his attention towards the Senate, hoping to humble it and remove it as a potential rival to his own weakening power within the Empire. He turned to the Senate to ask them for an increase in taxes. Under normal circumstances, this was his right, as the Emperors had jealously guarded their rights to raise taxes throughout Senatorial Italia: in theory the Senate collected taxes for the Emperor but had no say on what those amounts would be, unless they had previously negotiated a lower rate. However, this was not a normal situation, and the Senate sensed that there was blood in the water. They agreed that the taxes were legitimate, but argued that it would take time to put in place the needed infrastructure to collect them. However, as debate began over these issues, first one Senator and then another stood up and used their right to speak in order to postpone any votes. This continued for some weeks, until the frustrated Emperor was forced to admit defeat, yet again.

    As mentioned, whatever his failings as a politician, Athaneric was a skilled scholar and he knew the history of Rome. He also knew that another failure would fatally weaken his authority and make it impossible to implement any of the reforms he wished to introduce to the realm. As such, he hit upon a novel plan and decreed that legislative powers would be stripped from the Senate and that they would be given to a reintroduced Roman Popular Assembly, and promised that the tax increase would not fall upon the Italian peasant but only on the landed gentry.

    This was a direct threat to the Senate and caused shock amongt the Senatorial class. Humiliated, they were forced to capitulate 676 and quickly passed the needed legislation to collect the tax. Athaneric, for his part, agreed not to go through with the reintroduction of the Popular Assembly. Using the revenue of the taxes, he planned to fund an even larger invasion of the Franks which would finally bring the Goth’s northern neighbors in submission and incorporate them into the realm.

    However, the Senate did not forget the slight. We cannot be sure what happened next, for no documentation exists and we have only Sigisbert’s account of the events, and he refuses to say for certain what happened – likely because he assumed most tales to be but idle gossip. Based on the events, we can hazard a guess, however. The Senate, smarting from their first major political defeat in centuries and perhaps realizing how precarious their position truly was, reached out to those elements of the Gothic nobility which had grown disenchanted with Athaneric’s leadership. Did Amalaric give his support of the plan? And, if he did, what caused him to change his mind from his earlier position of not wishing to challenge his brother? We can never know, and it would be all the more tragic if he was unaware, considering latter events. But what we can know is that that the next winter, Athaneric traveled to Rome as was tradition for the Gothic Emperors and held court in the Curia there, and it was there that the events depicted at the introduction of this paper occurred. With Athaneric dead, his brother Amalamir was quickly affirmed by the Garun and the Senate followed so quickly in tandem that eyebrows were raised, as they didn’t even ask for any traditional concessions.

    For many, it must have seemed as if the Senate had been saved. However, for breaking the taboo against assassination within the Gothic-Roman Empire, they would eventually be forced into a reckoning. Assassinations would now become a matter of reality within the Empire and would reach a feverd pitch during the Ruination – or, the Crisis of the 8th century as it was once common to call it. Furthermore, Athaneric had shown what tactics could be used to undermine Senate power and, in doing so, had laid bare the weakness of the Senate’s position. This would push the Senate to more aggressively attempt to solidify its power over Senatorial Italy and to secure it’s continued existence, and this would in the half century to follow cause it to commit fatal errors which would forever color the nature of the Post-Ruination Empire.
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    [FN1] The Gothic Emperor, by this point, has taken on certain elements of Sacred Kingship; inheriting and melding beliefs present in the Greco-Roman and Germanic cultural spheres. One of the side effects of this, is that it is believed that Emperors – through their piety and the favor of God – can drive out demons and cure illness by touch. This view is wholly embraced and promoted amongst the Gothic Church for obvious reasons. It is not held by the clergy of the Roman Orthodox Church, as the thought that a heretic could be so blessed by God causes a number of theological conundrums. However, the view has come to hold sway amongst enough of the Roman population that the Emperor often spends as much of his time in Rome curing the sick as he does hearing legal issues and consulting with the Senate.

    [FN2] The Empire relied on Senatorial Italy for a large chunk of it’s revenue for a number of reasons. First, it because Goths at this time, save for a brief period during the darkest period of the Fourth Punic War, were exempt from the payment of taxes. This naturally means that the tax burden falls heaviest upon the Latin population of the Empire. This was beginning to change already in the 7th century, especially as more Gothic nobles took on the tax burden of Valach freeholders in exchange for accepting serfdom. As time goes on, the tax exempt status of Goths would be restricted to yeomen and the Rieks (nobles), but that process is only now starting.

    The second reason is because the Roman beauocracy is still functioning in Senatorial Italy to a large extent. Italy and the Gothic lands have both suffered from the same ruralification which has impacted the rest of Western Europe. However, the old urban landscape remains much healthier here than, in say, Gaul, which means that the Roman governmental apparatus is still functioning in these regions than in others. However, as Senatorial Italy continues to have the highest concentration of the population that can be taxed, it provides a larger segment of the funds the government needs to operate. (Hispania also maintains a well functioning government administration.) Much of the wealth the Empire takes from Gaul and less urbanized regions is in the form of food and other goods.

    [FN3] This is actually not all that different from Italian nobility during this era in OTL, albeit the Senate no longer existed in our own timeline. Italian nobility during the Lombard period were largely urban dwelling, even when they owned vast estates in the countryside and, much like their ancestors, liked nothing better than to invest their money in building projects to beautiful the towns where they lived. With the presence of a Senate, and an Italy that is somewhat richer than in OTL (having avoided the Gothic Wars, or the worst of any of the invasions which plagued it in OTL, for that matter – save a few destructive Vandal and Rauthering raids), I figure that the Senate would return to its tradition of sponsoring the buildings of public works. However, Rome’s population was declining in OTL even before the Gothic Wars and this trend has continued in the ATL as well. The result is a city which is rich in monuments, but somewhat poor in the number of citizens.

    [FN4] A little bit of explanation here. Part of the deal with Theodemir made which saw the reorganization of the Gothic Kingdoms into the Gothic-Roman Empire was that the Gothic Garune would elect the new King of the Goths (actually, there were two Garunes at first, one for the Visigoths and another for the Ostrogoths. But the two would eventually be merged) while the Senate would confirm the Gothic King as Roman Emperor. Initially, the Senate’s role was simply to rubberstamp Theodemir and his heirs (especially as Theodemir himself received his crown from the Eastern Emperor) however, over time the Senate began to use this power to gain concessions from any would-be Emperor; because, of course they would. The result of this is that Thorismund is able to get Athaneric elected Co-King of the Goths by the Garune. However, in order to be officially named Co-Emperor, Athaneric needs the Senate’s approval. Likely, Thorismund expected he would need to make concessions in order to secure his son’s early election and wasn’t surprised by the Senate’s attitude. However, Athaneric is young and ambitious, and their attitude leaves a bad taste in his mouth, and he takes it personally.

    [FN5] It is not obvious here, because the Author’s main focus in on the Senate and not on Athaneric and also because he has no respect for the Emperor in question, but the invasion of the Franks and his efforts to depose Framtane all have the same root cause. By this point, the Gothic Emperors are becoming land poor. Although they are able to support themselves by their share of the Imperial revenue, the lack of land is beginning to hinder the Emperor’s abilities to impose their will on the Empire.

    Why the lack of land? Well, as in many Germanic kingdoms, the Goths often reward their followers with land and wealth in order to win their support. If there is a war or conquest, this becomes easier, but in times of peace the Emperors often have to give up their own lands. This is coupled with the growing tradition of the Amalings giving titles and lands to all potential heirs in order to, hopefully, cut down on the possibility of revolts. Thorismund had several wives, as did his Father, and they were virile to boot, meaning that the Emperor’s lands have been cut into even further. Athaneric was invading Frankland to secure wealth and hopefully lands in order to reward his followers. When thay failed, he attempted to force the removal of Preatorian Prefect Framane in order to confiscate some of the lands which traditionally come with that title in Spania (this failed became Framane was competent and popular and also because the title of Preatorian Prefect was quickly becoming hereditary in that land, and so Framane’s house had generations to build up support there.)

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    And we're back! Sorry for the long absence, but getting myself situated in Scotland took a bit longer than I was planning on, and then the research and work needed for the PhD took a bit out of me. But I'm back now and I'm gonna try to hold on to my previous goal of at least one chapter update a month. And where are we going from here? Well, it seems that there is a need to more from narrative updates to what I like to call, semi-narritive. In this, the events are still depicted (such as the short reign of Athaneric I) but they are used to illustrate certain aspects of Gothic and Roman society at the time. I believe the next chapter will attempt to cast an eye on the state of the Gothic nobility through the lense of the reign of Amalaric II (and did you sense it would be a short and tragic one? Good!) This will continue until we get to the reign of Theorodic II and then through the Ruination.

    I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe out there. I know its been said to death, and I think it's always true: but crazy days we are all living through! Take care, and be safe; you guys are all too awesome.
     
    Chapter 84: Echoes of Future Past
  • Chapter 84
    Echoes of Future Past


    Steuben_-_Bataille_de_Poitiers.png

    Later depiction of the Battle of Reims which saw the slaying of Praetorian Prefect Gainas by King Sigebert of the Franks

    “A Statesman must always judge his movements carefully. For what appears to be the correct decision today, can quickly prove disastrous tomorrow.” –“The Republic and the Empire” by Aquila Mancini

    “An Empire Besieged: The Gothic-Roman Empire and the Crisis of the Reign of Amalamir II” Journal Restoration Era Studies. Volume XXXXVI Issue 4 (2003)
    By: Dr. Ricardo Prugna

    On the 5th of July, 678, the combined members of the Gothic Garun met to officially proclaim the ascension of Amalamir II – known to posterity as Amalamir the Ungaraiths, or the Unready. After the Garun gave its ascent, Amalamir was duly blessed by Atta Frithufar, and then addressed the conclave of nobles and churchmen. His words have not come down to us – Hunuil of Nizza, the churchman who had written the unflattering biography of Amalamir’s father, was present, but chose not to record them. Even Sigisbairht who, following the classical traditions he so adored, couldn’t muster the effort to invent a speech for the young Emperor. Best known for the quip quoted by Sigisbairht that, “Amalamir can speak three languages, but has nothing of interest to say in any of them,” its unlikely that his words were particularly stirring or memorable.

    Since the end of the Kunis Wars, the Gothic-Roman Empire had been ruled over by a series of monarchs that have long been remembered as the “Do-Nothing Emperors.” I have recently spoke at length, as to why that particular designation is unfair and incorrect, stemming more from Sigisbairht’s own interest in attempting to explain the travesty of the Ruination than it does from the activities and personalities of the Emperors in question. Theodebert II, after all, had seized the crown from Theodemir the Chaste and his mother Queen Adela and then engaged in campaigns to restore order to the realm. Thorismund the Good, had enjoyed a long reign which saw the Empire largely at peace with its neighbors, save for occasional raids and his military campaign against the Moravia of King Aizar. Even Amalamir’s direct predecessor, his murdered brother Athaneric, had engaged in numerous daring actions against foes both foreign and domestic, albeit failing in most cases. However, in the case of Amalamir, the title, along with his unfortunate nickname, is well deserved and earned.

    And, of course, that was likely the point. Part of the Gothic nobility and Roman Senatorial opposition to the reign of Athaneric was due to the deceased king’s personality, overreaching of his authority and continual military failings. This was all the more true for the Roman Senate which had found itself the target of Athaneric’s efforts to secure more funding for his campaigns and, following their refusal, had had their power directly threatened by him. Faced with an Emperor who was, to their mind, acting more in the manner of a tyrant of old and not in the role of a Christian steward of the people, there can be little surprise that the callow and colorless Amalamir II would have seemed to be a pleasing alternative.

    However, there were other dimensions to the assassination of Athaneric and the raising of his brother to the Purple, than the late Emperor’s political actions. Following the initial settlement of the Ostrogoths in Italy under Theodoric the Founder and the reorganization of the realm under Theodemir the Great, the Gothic population largely consisted with a large body of yeoman farmers and herders and a smaller body of nobles. Despite the status differences between the two populations, the nobles by and large had not accrued the vast amount of estates and wealth which would mark their class in later centuries. Although government and church positions were largely filled by nobles, the land grants which came with said positions belonged ultimately to the crown or Church and were not inherited by the holder’s heirs. As a result of this, despite the fact that nobles certainly possessed greater wealth, prestige and connections than the general population, the gap between them and the Gothic yeomen was much smaller than it would become in later generations. Furthermore, what extra wealth a nobleman hoped to acquire could only be done so with the willing compliance of the Emperor or Church. This meant, that the nobles were effectively dependent upon these two pillars for social advancement.

    However, in the years following the Fourth Punic War and the Kunis Wars, this situation had changed, and done so dramatically. Ambitious nobles had been able to squeeze concessions from the Gothic government time and time again, which expanded their holdings in exchange for financial or military support during times of crisis. This meant that many of those titles which had once been granted by the Emperor or Church had now become hereditary, de jure if not always de facto – though, more and more, formal recognition was catching up to the truths on the ground. Furthermore, there now had began to emerge distinct class differences between the nobility itself. A new strata of high nobility had begun to emerge which consolidated the lands of their less powerful or wealthy peers. Below them was a level of middle nobility which best reflected the conditions of the early nobles within the Gothic Empire. And below them were the lower nobility which often had little more wealth than a yeoman farmer and potentially less but were differentiated from them by the illustriousness of their descent.

    This clear picture was clouded by two important factors. The first was that upward mobility was not impossible within the Gothic state – indeed, it was remarked by other writers at the time that the Goths were more more socially fluid than many of their contemporaries, especially when compared to the contemporary situation in Senatorial Italy where the rank of Senator was proudly guarded against threats by upstarts. And secondly was the situation within the imperial family itself. Beginning with the ending of the Fourth Punic Wars and established by Theodebert II following the conclusion of the Kunis Wars, it had become tradition that each son of the Amaling line would received lands and titles upon the ascension of a new Emperor. This had two major impacts. The first of which, of course, was the steady depletion of the Imperial fiefdoms which were used to help support the Emperor. This resulted in further undermining the nobility’s dependence on the Emperor as he simply had less titles and lands to distribute and was no longer able to claim to be the richest landholder in the realm. But secondly, and perhaps more intriguing, was the creation of what would later have been deemed cadet branches of the Amaling line. These cadet branches, if you will excuse the anachronism, possessed one thing which the nobility could not claim – almost assured imperial patronage, as well as a bloodline which carried with it immediate dignities and a reasonable claim upon the Imperial throne – no matter how small the chances were of gaining enough support in the Garun to make that claim a reality.

    It was during the later part of the Middle Empire that we begin to see our first references to prominent noble families, made up almost entirely of the upper nobility – those Amaling cadet branches and the higher nobility which had come into affluence and prestige. And so, by the reign of Amalamir II we now begin to see families such as the Wulfigz, Cnivigz and Bullonisz to name only a few, who would play such a large part in the Ruination and in later events. Furthermore, this was not a purely Gothic phenomenom, though Goths were represented far more than any other groups. We see the same process also occurring in the Empire’s satellite regions, such as Spania and Jaille. There, a nobility which was made up the local landed class, with an admixture of Gothic elements, was rising in much the same way as in the Gothic lands. However, here, the nobility had the added element of the established Praetorian Prefects who vied with the Emperor for the loyalty of their nobility and with him the nobility played against the Emperors.

    Because of these factors, it can generally be said that the emergent high nobility generally preferred a weak Emperor who would rely upon them for support or, even better, simply leave them to their own devices. The Middle and Low nobility meanwhile, wished for stronger imperial power which would cap the influence of the high nobility and possibly offer them the patronage they needed to ascend the social ladder. Due to the still present social mobility within the Gothic realm in the Empire, this social stratification had yet to solidify to the extent it would during the late and post-Imperial era, and this led to the conflicts between the classes to be more muted than what would emerge in later centuries.

    However, the conflicts did emerge during the course of Athaneric’s reign – his movements against the Senate and the Church had done much to offend the higher strata of both Gothic and Roman society and brought together these factions in a way that was rare up to that point and wouldn’t be seen again until the reign of Theodoric II the Great, nearly two decades later– and then in a vastly different fashion. The fact that the conspirators had a candidate in Amalamir II who was well known to be intellectually shallow and uninterested in the day to day managing of government, likely encouraged the hopes of the dissatisfied nobles and senators that once Athaneric was out of the picture, that they would be left largely to their own devices.

    And, in all honesty, they were largely to be granted their wish. The first years of Amalamir Ungaraiths’ reign, which commenced in 678, were largely uneventful and little of them have come down to us in the sources. But thit was to change, and do so dramatically, in 680. The crisis of that year began with a major Frankish war party which crossed the Imperial frontier and made deep incurssions into Jaille, sacking Amiens during that year and then marching south towards Reims. At this time the Praetorian Prefect of Jaille was the ineffectual Gainas who may have had some connections to the Amal dynasty. Rallying his forces, he met the Frankish king Sigebert in battle north of Reims and was utterly destroyed, losing his life in the process. Sigebert negotiated the surrender of Reims and, rather than returning to his own lands, decided to winter there and reinforce himself for the next campaign season.

    The fall of Amiens and Reims immediately caused panic throughout the realm. Within Jaille itself, the nobles quickly rallied around one of their own – a man known as Sixtus who had won renown for himself earlier in life when he helped repel raids by the Rautherings. However, despite his election as Praetorian Prefect, Sixtus was unable to attain official imperial recognition. Instead, Amalaric II, potentially under the influence of his advisors, appointed Frithugains – a Amaligz nobleman who descended from the line of Amalamir II. Frithugains arrived in Jaille and was initially mistook as a messenger from the Emperor coming to confirm Sixtus’ official appointment. Whatever embarrassment must have existed at the time, it paled in comparison to the fact that the aged Sixtus had no desire to stand aside for the unknown Gothic upstart. Firthugains, for his part, was able to rely upon his imperial patronage to secure limited support amongst the Jaille nobility, but this was not enough to secure his control within the wayward province. Declaring that Sixtus was a rebel against the Empire gained him only only so much more. And so, with a Frankish warparty ready to march from its winter camp in Reims, Jaille began to spiral into a period of lowscale civil war. [FN1]

    And then, just as news of the Frankish victories began to reach Ravenna, a new threat was spotted to the East. In the late spring of 681, the largest Rauthering raiding party had seen sailed past the Straits of Heracleas and into the Mediterranean Sea. In the past, the Rautherings had contended themselves with raiding the Atlantic seaboard of Europe and had made only passing efforts to reach the former Mare Nostrum. According to Gaelic sagas, the expedition was Dara Ó Flaithbheartaigh, a lower ri from the lands of Connacht. The size of the fleet varies depending on the report, from a couple hundred carricks to well over a sthousand. Whatever the case, the fleet marked the beginning of a new phase of Rauthering attacks and coordination, which would eventually crest with Caoimhe the Beardless’s campaigns and her seizing of southern Spania.

    Luckily for the Gaelic pirates, the Imperial fleet had never recovered from the disaster of the Fourth Punic War, and those ships which could be gathered were unfit to the task. The Carricks, which were more maneuverable and able to hug the coastlines, unlike their Gothic counterparts, continually outpaced their pursuers and were able to draw off and isolate ships and destroy them. Traveling along the southern shore of Gotland, they struck again and again – each time overwhelming the garrisons left in towns before any local response could be organized. Finally they reached Massalbaurg and after – according to legend – bribing the a gatekeeper of the city, were able to sack the city. Massalbaurg which had continued to thrive as a trading city following the initial collapse of the Western Empire and the restoration of Imperial control of the Goths, entered into a precipitous decline following this raid and wouldn’t recover until the Theutish Era.

    The fall of Massalbaurg spread panic throughout the Gothic realm. Coupled with the incursions of the Franks in Jaille, many began to believe that the Franks and Gaels had allied with one another in order to bring the Empire to its knees. Amalamir for his parts summoned the Garun to Ravenna so that a response to the crisis could be organized. For his part Dara Ó Flaithbheartaigh and his expedition, largely saited in their feast following the sack of Massabaurgs, would set sail for home, blissfully unaware of the political crisis which they had instigated. Dara would return to Connacht where, according to the gaelic chronicles and sagas, he would be dead within the next two years, having used his wealth and prestige in a losing bid to unseat the O Conchobair dynasty. However, his legacy would live on, and the success of his expedition would inspire future Rauthering expeditions, not the least amongst whom was that of the Dal Raidian Caoimhe Aon Féasóg who would plague the western Mediterranean during the Ruination. [FN2]

    Sigisbaihrt tells us that Ravenna was paralyzed with fears that an even greater Gaelic war party would return during the next campaign season. Meanwhile, Jaille continued to burn. Sigebert and his Franks did not feel the same compulsion as the Gaels to return home with their ill-gotten gains. We are told that Sigebert’s brother Clothain had perished during Athaneric’s ill-planned incursion into Frankland years prior and, we are told “Possessed a righteous and all consuming hatred for the Goths and their Amaling rulers.” Instead, with the coming of warm weather, and buttressed by reinforcements from Frankland, SIgebert continued his campaign, turning his attention towards Tricassae to the southwest.

    In this, he was helped by the continued strife between Sixtus and Firthugains who were not only unable to come to a common accord in their policies towards the Franks but who had begun to openly oppose one another. We are told in Orleans that the local bishop who supported Frithugains as the Praetorian Prefect and, by extension, Emperor Amalaric, was driven from the city by an enraged population who attempted to stone him to death. Meanwhile, in Poitiers, messengers from Sixtus were captured and executed by the town’s citizens who openly declared their preference for Firthugains. In such an environment, Sigebert had no trouble sweeping away whatever resistance that Tricassae was able to offer and sacked the city before turning his attention southward again towards Dijon and the Lugdunum, the capitol of the Burgundian sub-kingdom. By the end of 661 Sigebert was once again enjoying the full extent of Imperial hospitality, holding Lugdunum under duress.

    The capture of Lugdunum, along with news that Firthugains’ forces had suffered a defeat at Avaricum – not against the Franks and King Sigebert but against Sextus who was still styling himself Praetorian Prefect and hoping to gain Imperial support and recognition – appears to have been the final straw for many of the Gothic nobles. Indeed, Sigisbaihrt reports that following his victory, the rebel Sextus sent a letter to Emperor Amalamir II pointing to his victory as evidence that he possessed the skills to drive the Franks from the realm and restore peace to Jaille, and that Amalamir openly considered withdrawing Frithugains and recognizing Sixtus to the position. This decision would have grearly undermined Imperial prestige and control over Jaile. Under normal circumstances, there were high nobles who would have celebrated such as humiliation of the Emperor. However, with a hostile army now controlling the strategicly valuable position of Lugdunum, and the threats of the Rauthering scourge rumored to return at any time, the situation had changed dramatically. Furthermore, minor nobility had begun to flood into Ravenna to take part in the Garun – less powerful individually than the higher nobility, they still possessed a large body which was demanding solutions to the situation – solutions which the inept Amalaric seemed incapable of delivering [FN3]

    As these factors began to converge, the unfortunate Amalamir Ungaraiths’ position began to look less and less certain. Already unpopular amongst the common citizens of the Empire as a result of the cloud which surrounded the death of his brother and predecessor, Amalaric II found his support amongst the nobility evaporating daily. He attempted to offer them further concessions but this act, which under normal circumstances would have been met with joy by the nobility, was instead interpreted as a sign of growing weakness. Sigisbairht reports that many began to spread rumors that Amalaric was another Nero, come to fiddle while Ravenna and the Empire burnt around him.

    All that was needed was a spark. And that arrived in early in the winter of 682 with the arrival of Thorismund to the capitol. Thorismund was the grandson of Theodebert II through his Lombard wife and upon the preious Emperor’s death, he had been granted landed estates in the Kingdom of Burgundy which continued to be ruled by a branch of the Amalarigz. During early 862, Thorismund had intercepted a Frankish raiding party which was scouring his realm for supplies during the winter, lured them into an ambush and destroyed the party. When Sigbert sent out a second party, Thorismund had responded by doing it again. This had drawn the ire of the Frankish King who released more of his forces to reach the upstart Gothic nobleman a lesson. Faced with overwhelming force, Thorismund had been forced to flee to Ravenna to beg assistance to driving the Franks from his realm and restore order.

    The plight of Thorismund caused immediate upheaval in Ravenna. The nobleman was hailed as a hero for facing the Franks directly in battle and bloodying their nose. Also, his plight as sparked sympathy in the hearts of all who heard it – although who wives had been able to flee with him, a third was pregnant and had been able to come and she was currenty the captive of King Sigbert. All of this had come to pass because of Amalamir’s inability to act and disinterest in the realm. To the common folk, Thorismund was a romantic hero who had fought bravely for a just cause and not suffered for it. To the minor nobility, he was a cautionary tale of what might happen to them. To the High Nobility, he was one of their number – yes – but more than that, he was a rallying point that might be able to restore peace to the realm.

    Amalamir, meanwhile, appears to have been moved by the plight of his relative. Upon meeting him and hearing his story, he immediately offered Thorismund rooms in the imperial palace and vowed to secure an army which would ride north at the start of campaign season to liberate his land and drive the Franks from Burgundy. But after months, the Emperor’s promises proved to be hollow and no army ever materialized. Then word reached Ravenna that Thorismund’s wife Adalberta had died in the custody of King Sigebert giving birth, and that their child – a son – had also died.

    This news was the spark that was needed to blow the powerkeg which Ravenna had become over the past several months. In the city’s poorer neighborhoods, members of the city guard attempted to close a tavern where seditious conspirators were thought to congregate. The Guards were immediately beset by the residents of the neighborhood and were lucky to escape with their lives. These guards fled to the barracks where their captain dutifully reported to the Emperor. By this time, the riot had begun to spread and an armed mob was marching on the capitol, demanding justie for Thorismund and calling for Amalamir II to step aside.

    Sigisbairht tells us that it was only at this point that Amalamir truly understood the danger to his throne and his own life. He ordered the guards to find and arrest Thorismund and hold him until the crisis had passed. However, Thorismund was not in his quarteres, and when questioned, his two surviving wives said that he had gone to pray for the souls of his late wife and child. They, along with their children, were taken captive, once again, for their own protection, while the guards searched city’s churches for the wayward Amaling prince.

    However, many in the guard were not loyal to the current Emperor and leaked word of their search to members of the nobility, as well as of the capture of Thorismund’s wives and children. This caused a stir and select members of the nobility called their thanes to their side and departed into the city looking for Thorismund, before the guards could find them. Unfortunately, the guards found Thorismund first, praying at the alter in the Chapel of St. Gelvira. When they came upon him, he demanded to know why they had drawn weapons in a house of God. The Guards gave no answer and approached the Amaling Prince. At it was at this point that the Thanes of Reiks Audoreiks arrived on the scene and confronted the guards. The two sides began a pitched battle and before it was done, the Ravenna city guards lay dead in the Church, and a visibly shaken Thorismund had been taken by the thanes into the mob who then declared him Emperor.

    Thorismund seemed to recover from the shock of the situation easily enough. He delivered a speech in which he stated “I am honored by the exhalt of the Gothic people, both noble and common, that I should reign over you as Emperor. However, my own beloveds and flesh currently sit in the dungeons of the tyrant, their very lives held in his callous hands. Before I can accept your call, I must know that they are safe.” These words, if he ever truly spoke them, were surprisingly tender for a statesman of that era. But they had their effect, and soon the mob had descended upon the Imperial Palace, demanding that Thorismund’s wife and children be released.

    At this point, Amalaric made a fateful mistake. Perhapse unable to spill the blood of innocent women and children, or hoping that giving into the mob would defuse the situation, the Emperor released Thorismund’s family. Almost immediately upon their safe return, the mob grew bolder and this time demanded that Amalaric step down and retire to a monastery. This Amalaric could not do, and he refused. The crowd surged forward, bolstered by the thanes of many prominent nobles.

    Its impossible to say with any certainty what happened next, though a few assumptions can be drawn. The crowd actually managed to break through the gates of the Imperial Palace, however, when they entered the palace himself, they found the body of Emperor Alamaric II in his throne room, stabbed through the breast. Officially, the Gothic historians claim that Amalaric II committed suicide, perhaps in an attempt to save the lives of his wife and underage child. However, rumors would persist for years that, as he had been raised to the purple by the assassination of his brother, so too Amalaric himself had been assassinated.

    The palace now under the control of the rebels, Thorismund was officially hailed by the assembled nobility as Thorismund II, and blessed by the Atta who had been roused from his sleep that night and escorted to the palace by an armed cadre of thanes and nobles. Although he would not officially recognized as Emperor by the Roman Senate for another six months,by the time his ascension came up to debate, his power had become so secure that they could do nothing to challenge it. Thorismund’s power was only secured more, when he publically pardoned the late Amalamir’s wife and child of any wrongdoing in the reign of their husband and father. He then married Amalamir’s widow as well as the late Emperor’s sister, bringing his own total of wives up to four, and formally adopted Amalaric’s son as his own.

    Following the rebellion to otherthrow Amalaric II, the early reign of Thorismund II was surprisingly anticlimactic. The Rautherings, or their part, would not return to the Meditarranean for a number of years, through raids throughout Jaille and Spania would continue intermittingly as they had before. Upon hearing of the fall of Amalaric II and the rise of Thorismund II, the Franks under Sigebert withdrew from Jaille as soon the winter and spring gave way to the campaigning season. Of course, this wasn’t enough for Thorismund, who now held a personal gruge against Siebert, and who launched a series of campaigns against the Franks. But despite a string of minor victories he was never able to draw Sigebert into open battle, and the Frankish king would die in his bed several years later.

    As for the Civil War in Jaille, the arrival of an Imperial army brought an end to the conflict. Thorismund marched North into Jaille to liberate Lugdunum but found that the Franks had already withdrawl. Using the opportunity to restore peace to the region, he called for Frithigaird and Sextus to appear before of him. Of these, only Frithigaird made the journey and swore fealty to the new Emperor. Realizing that Sextus would continue to balk imperial authority until brought to heel, Thorismund along with Frithigaird marched upoin the Jaille nobleman. They met near the former site of Paris and in the coming battle, Sextus was decisively defeated and captured. Thorismund then had the rebel executed and his body drawn, quartered, and sent to the four corners of Jaille as a warming to any future rebels. [FN4]

    Thorismund’s decisive actions would cement his authority throughout his reign. Despite the questionable circumstances which initially led to his rise to the throne, there would be no major revolts against his reign – even through the outbreak of the Blight during his reign which struck the imperial family particularly difficult, Thorismund’s power remained secure. The Empire’s first experiment with weak and decentralized rule had cruhed by the combined forces of the Gaels and the Franks. Although Thorismund’s remaining reign would be particularly quiet, the lessons of those first years would not be lost on his son Theodoric – known popularly as Theodoric the Great.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    [FN1] Amalric II was, of course, the second husband of Adela. Which means that the line of Adela actually continues (the family might take some pride in this but tracing their lineage from the female line wouldn’t really work for the Goths, so they go with Amalaric instead. Which is somewhat unfortunate, considering he was a less than successful King.

    [FN2] Ah, and here we get our first real reference to the Historical Caoimhe. We’ll get to her story sooner than later, though the sources will be somewhat lacking and so don’t expect as deep of a dive as he took into the mythological Caoimhe. Still, I plan on having some fun exploring the two aspects of her, the mythic and the historic, and seeing what lines up and what does not. One might notice that our good historian here doesn’t take as worshipful of a view of the founder of Dal Caoimhe as certain other writers might 😊

    [FN3] Poor, poor, delusional Sextus …

    [FN4] So a little explanaton. Sextus is a rather interesting figure who is only periphery to the story being told by this article’s author. As such, much of his tale is only dealt with in passing. To give you a bit more information: Sextus was a nobleman from northwestern Jaille on the borderlands with the Breton tribes. Although the Breton were federates of the Empire, they were disunited and during periods of weak imperial control, strong tribal leaders had a tendency of raiding deep into Jaille. Sextus, early in life, helped turn back one of these major raids. This gae him a huge amount o prestige within Jaille. A canny lord as well as military leader, he was able to secure the lands of many of his neighbors and soon became one of the dominant landorders in the region. As the Preatorian Prefects of Jaille were rather notoriously ineffectual during this era (though that’s not entirely their own fault. Preatorian Prefects were often chosen from amongst the Gothic nobility and, as such, they often had little natural bases of support within the region. This could be gained in time, but Jaille was also more open to raiding and poorer than other regions of the Empire. This combined to make it a very difficult region to rule effectively. Sextus, for his part, understood this, and had long champtioned for a locally chosen Praetorian Prefect – naturally, he saw himself as the perfect candidate. By the time of King SIgebert’s raid into Jaille, Sextus had grown old, had grown locally renowned, and had developed a sense of himself as man of destiny who had been frustrated simply by the circumstances of his birth (he was a Roman Jaille and not a Goth). On the part of the Goths, there were those who feared that empowering Sextus would lead him to make himself a King in Jaille, and his later actions only fed into those fears and rumors. And so, when he launched a civil war and then refused to bow to the authority of the new Emperor, his fate was sealed. But from his point of view, he couldn’t back down, because doing so would be reaffirming what he saw as his second class status amongst the Empire’s nobility. Kind o a sad story, especially as Sextus was actually a fairly competent ruler who would have done well as Preatorian Prefect.

    And so, we're back. Sorry for the long wait - as I've stated, apparently a global pandemic isn't always the best time to keep up with a writing project: especially when I'm working on the start of a PhD program AND a screenplay with a friend (a Slasher! :D ). Hope everyone enjoyed this. In the next chapter, we will begin a series which related to the reign of Theodoric II the Great. Now, not all of these episodes will relate directly to the Goths, at least at first - in order to tell the story well, we're going to have to look at some of the periphery regions, especially the Franks and the Saxons. So for those who want to take a look at the other Germanic kingdoms, now is your chance :)

    As always, any questions and comments are so welcome :D
     
    Chapter 85: Of Sickness, Sorrow and Greatness
  • Chapter 85:
    Of Sickness, Sorrow and Greatness


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    Image of relief taken from Amalingian royal mortuary attached to the Holy Family Basilica. Scholars believe it belongs to Prince Theodebert on his death bed. King Thorismund is seen standing while a woman – likely Theodebert’s mother Queen Mahtihildz - sits near by

    “And, in the year of our lord, six hundred eighty nine, a great pestilence came upon the people of Ravenna. The sickness rose from the marsh and soon spread amongst the people of the city. The Imperial family was not spared, and soon great mourning gripped the hearts of all in Ravenna.” – The Ravenna Chronicle, 689.


    “The Calm Before the Storm: Crisis and Tranquility During the Reign of Thorismund II” Journal of Restoration Era Studies. Volume XXXXVIII Issue 1 (2005)
    By: Dr. Harold Smith

    Despite the dramatic events which lead to his rise to the purple in the year 683, the reign of Thorismund II has traditionally been overlooked by serious scholarship on Restoration Era Europe. Traditionally damned as the last of the “Do-Nothing” Emperors of the 7th century, he is best known merely as the father of Theodoric II the Fair or, as he has come to be known since the Age of Yearning, the Great. Although it would be impossible to overstate the importance of his son on the subsequent history of the Empire and the Gothic people, it would be unwise to dismiss Thorismund II as merely the sire of his more famous protégé. Indeed, without the attempted reforms which Thorismund instituted within the Empire, as well as the extended period of peace he inaugurated, it would have been impossible for his heir to have attained the Icarusian heights he later reached.

    Thorismund first entered Gothic history with his arrival in Ravenna during the waning days of the reign of Amalamir II – known to posterity as “the Foolish.” His struggles against the raiding party of Sigbert, King of the Franks, had forced his withdrawl from his lands in Burgundy to seek the the aid of the Emperor. Although Amalamir was initially receptive to his distant cousin, it soon became obvious that he was unable or unwilling to lend substantial support – a fact which underlined the Emperor’s inability to secure the borders of the Empire. The death of Thorismund’s third wife in childbirth, while being held as a captive of the Frankish King, galvanized opposition to Amalmir’s weak reign and would see the upstart named Emperor by an angry mob which stormed the imperial palace. Finding the Emperor dead, seemingly by his own hand, Thorismund was declared the ruler of the Empire by the acclaim of the of the mob as well as the assorted noblemen then in the capitol.

    Despite the questionable manner in which he attained the throne, Thorismund would remain popular with not only the people, but also his nobles, throughout the length of his eleven year reign. Although he wasn’t afraid to use violence to bring peace to the realm, as shown by his execution of the anti-Pratorian Prefect Sextus as well as his sporadic campaigns against the Franks, Thorismund preferred to negotiate and build a coalition of allies within the realm. This can be seen in early 684 when working with those Senators who wished to deny him the Imperial crown, when he met with key leaders of the opposition and, if Sigisbairht the Frodgibands is to be believed, won them over with words alone. Although it shouldbe noted that the assassination of Athaneric a mere five years earlier had made the Senate politically vulnerable, and the opposition Thorismund faced would have been considerably less than faced by some of his immediate predecessors.

    Having already won martial glory, and having paid the price for it with the death of his wife and unborn son, Thorismund proved to be far more concerned with administrative details and reforms than many previous Emperors. Hardly a pacifist, as witnessed by the three campaigns he conducted against the Franks, he still seems to have determined the the Empire and its finances were in no condition to conduct a major offensive campaign. And so he turned towards a number of policies which were meant to generate income, building a nest egg and funneling moneys into the army to prepare it for use by future Emperors.

    The biggest financial issue faced by the Emperor was the general poverty of his own household. For generations now, one of the chief struggles of any Emperor was the liquidity of his own finances – the need to grant lands to followers, as well the tradition which emerged during the Kunis Wars of granting lands and titles to all Amaling princes, had greatly depleted the Emperor’s personal lands. Although many of these land grants had initially not been in perpetuity, reverting to the Emperor upon the death of the grantee, the Fourth Punic War and the previously mentioned Kunis Wars had changed this. During the course of the 7th century, we see more land grants being made hereditary – though this was needed to keep the loyalty of the imperial dynasty, as well as the nobility, the effect was to increasingly deplete the personal holdings of the Emperor. Making matters even worse, the 7th century had seen the Empire increasingly hemmed in by neighboring states, making expansion and the acquisition of new lands difficult. Though the Goths would continue to raid some neighbors to accrue wealth – Gothic-Frankish relations had descended into a series of raids and counter raids by this point – not enough was gained to truly solve the problem. [FN1] And even these raids grew less frequent as Gaelic rauthering raiders showed the weakness of the imperial defenses.

    Luckily for Thorismund, his ascension saw him acquiring the imperial fiefdoms to which he added his prior Burgundian lands – though he was forced to grant lands in Fruili to his adopted son Athanagild in 687. [FN2] This was essential in helping to fund the early stages of his initial reforms, as well as the three punitive raids against the Franks. However, the early years of his reign would still be marked by the financial insecurities which had also plagued his immediate predecessors. The coffers would be so weakened, especially as the dreadful raids into Jaille badly undercut expected revenue from these lands, that Thorismund was forced to travel to Rome and personally request an increase in taxes from the Roman Senate. This was granted after some debate, with the Emperor forced to agree to a number of appointments by the Senate as well as some minor adjustments to the borders of regions under Senatorial control.

    These tense negotiations were an unusual, but necessary, incident during the reign of an Emperor who largely enjoyed good relations with the Roman Senate. It seems likely that they convinced Thorismund that he should not push his luck – the fate of Athaneric would have been on the minds of all involved – and would need to seek income from other venues. Though he would also move to increase the tax on the Valachs within the Gothic regions of the Empire, Thorismund would largely move away from increasing the taxes on his subjects – many would have difficulty paying due to the ill-events of the past several years in any case, and the chance of undermining his own popularity and authority was too great.

    Turning away from increasing the taxation of his subjects, Thorismund would invest in a number of reforms. First of these was an overhauling of the imperial beaurocracy. Since the reign of Theodebert II, the beaurocracy had gone into decline – its posts often being handed out not to the most capable of candidates, but instead to the second and third sons of noble families hoping to secure an income. Usually after a donation to the imperial coffers. Making matters worse, the Fourth Punic War and Kunis Wars had witnessed the erosion of the Imperial system in Jaille and, to a lesser extent, Spania – meaning that it was only fully functioning within the Gothic lands as well as Senatorial Italy. As posts were not handed out by merit, or even necessarily need, the system became bloated over the course of the 7th century.

    Thorismund sought to overhaul the system. Accepting for the time being, that the infrastructure had deteriorated outside of Italy and Gothia, the Emperor began to cut down on the bloat, dismissing unnecessary aapointments and setting new rules to make sure that future appointees would be competent. This would pay off in time, as the Empire’s finances began to climb out of the defict that they had been in – leaving a substantial war chest at the time of Thorismund’s death in 695.

    The Emperor’s next reform was to attempt to increase trade, particularly within the cities of Ravenna as well as Oderzo and the growing port of Venice, hoping to strengthen the Gothic cities’ commercial ties with the Rhomanians. [FN3] These efforts would prove fruitful, and would lead to an increase in trade connections that would survive until the years of the Ruination and recover again after the end of that series of conflicts. Since trade goods faced taxation on entry, thereby circumventing the custom of not taxing Goths, this increase in trade had an immediate and noticeable impact on the Empire’s finances as well as on the capital city of Ravenna.

    Of course, the increase in trade would have one unfortunate side effect which was soon to plunge the Imperial Family into despair …

    “The Emergence of Malaria in the Northeast Gothreik during the Restoration Era,” The Journal of Medical History vol. XXXXVIIII (2004)
    By: Dr. Goiswintha Hundsmeister




    The first recorded instance of what is thought to be endemic malaria in the west-central region of Italy occurred in the city of Graviscae, as recounted by the Cato the Elder. It seems likely that the spread of malaria to the region occurred roughly during the third and second centuries BCE. The malaria in Graciscae, as well as the mosquitos which carried it, most likely reached the community by sea – either from Sardinia or North Africa where it had already been present for centuries. Whenever, or however, the establishment of the disease occurred, however, it quickly became closely associated with the city of Rome itself, gaining the names “Roman Fever” and “The Roman Disease.”

    During the Classical Era, the connection between malaria and mosquitoes had been well documented. However, by the Restoration Era, a growing consensus was that malaria was transmitted by bad air coming from the marshes and bogs which surrounded the city of Rome and many of its neighbors. These swamps had long been an issue, a no less figure that Julius Caesar himself had once planned to drain them and convert the marshes into viable farmland. The plan died with his assassination and would take over a millennium and a half for the the Pontine Marshes to be finally drained.



    What is fascinating, however, is that despite the prevalence of Malaria in the city of Rome itself, it would take centuries for the disease to reach the northeastern corners of the Italian peninsula. The first known outbreak in the Gothic capitol of Ravenna, for instance, would not occur the year 698 – despite the fact that, much like Rome, Ravenna was surrounded by marshlands which were the perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. Even more intriguing, when genetic testing was conducted many centuries later, it was found that the malaria strain common in the region was the same found in the Eastern Mediterranean and not that found further South in Rome. This gives credance to the popular legend that malaria had arrived in Ravenna on a ship from the Rhomanian lands to the East … [FN4]

    “The Calm Before the Storm: Crisis and Tranquility During the Reign of Thorismund II” Journal of Restoration Era Studies. Volume XXXXVIII Issue 1 (2005)
    By: Dr. Harold Smith



    The pestilence of the Summer of 689 would prove to be the greatest crisis to face Thorismund II during his reign. Although the disease was quickly identified as the “Roman Fever” – today known as malaria – treatments were spotty at best and whatever edical resources were available were soon overburdened by the sheer agnitude of the outbreak. Wealthy Goths soon began to flee the city for landed estates in the healthier countryside, but the poor of the city had nowhere to go and so were forced to remain. The Emperor was urged to flee as well, but initially refused, not wanting to be seen leaving his people to suffer from the contagion while he sought safety. According to Sigisbaihrt the Frothiband, Thorismund did eventually accept sending his wives and children to Burgundy, but by the time the decision was made, it was too late and the dread pathogen had already made itself felt within the imperial household.

    The first to catch the illness was Thorismund’s eldest son and heir, Theodebert. Later artistic depictions would cast Theodebert as a child, but in reality he was an adult, likely in his mid-20s The prince had been groomed by his Father since assuming the emperorship and the Ga-run had officially voted him as co-emperor just a year earlier. Church bells cried out for the young man, and despite the efforts of the city government to establish an quarantine, masses were held for Theodebert’s eventual recovery. Sadly, it was not to be – the prince passed away some days later while his Father and Queen Mahtihildz looked on in sorrow.

    He would not be the last. Mahtihildz, the Emperor’s first wife, would soon contract the illness and pass away – her death taking, we are told, less than twenty four hours from the passing of her eldest son. Fearing for the lives of the children, Queen Theodosia would claim that the illness stemmed from the Emperor’s greed and his raising of taxes – she ordered the imperial tax rolls to be bought into the palace and burnt, with family and courtiers walking through the smoke to purify themselves. It did little good and soon even the Emperor himself fell ill in early August and lingering on death’s door until his fever broke roughly a week later.

    He awoke from his fever to the crushing loss of much of his family. Of his four wives, three had been felled by the illness – only Theodosia, the sister of his predecessor, was left. Thorismund had once possessed an expansion family with seven children – now he had only three left. In addition to the lose of Theodebert, he had also lost Ermenberga, his young daughter who had been a particular favorite of his.

    Grief stricken, the usually spend-thirft Emperor, ordered the construction of the Bascilica of the Holy Family, which stands to this day, as a monument to his lost loved ones. Thorismund did not live to see its completion, though he did oversee the transferring of the bodies of his wives and children to it – laying them under the new altar. Though previously, Gothic Emperors had been laid to rest within the catacombs of the Hagia Anastasis, Thorismund requested that upon his death he be placed next to his beloved family – thus beginning a tradition which would be joined by Theodoric II and many other members of the gothic royalty until the collapse of the Empire.

    The Emperor’s grief was matched by the citizens of the city of Ravenna, which is said to have lost between 5-10 percent of it’s population during the malaria outbreak. Malaria would continue to be an issue which would curse the imperial capital for centuries to come, but rarely would outbreaks be so devastating – save for one at the height of the Ruintation but a few decades later. Although Queen Theodosia blamed the outbreak upon her husband’s greed in pushing for higher taxes, this does not appear to be a theory that was entertained by many of the city’s residents. Indeed, the devastation of his loss and his refusal to hide the grief which plagued him, convinced him that he was one of their own. Though Thorismund would gain the epitath “The Sorrowful,” this was given not as an offense, but rather a badge of honor – showing the deep respect the people had for him due to his losses, and their understanding that he was a fellow traveler on that dark road as well. Eventually, long after his death, the Arian Church would codify Thorismund as the patron saint of grieving, and his cult remains popular to this very day.

    The malaria outbreak had shaken the capitol city and the imperial faily to its foundations. Whereas, the deeply loved and respected Theodebert had been his father’s heir prior to the outbreak, the weight of that role now fell upon young Theodoric. Only eleven years old at the time of the outbreak, he had lost two older brothers, his Mother and witnessed the long illness of his father. He himself had come down ill, but only briefly – a fact which filled him with guilt, according to his biography Witteric – and made a full recovery. Contemporary descriptions state that he bore an uncanny resemblance to his eldest brother, as well as his father, and the people of the city used to call him “Little Theodebert” as a result. His survival not only made him the heir apparent, but also the object of near religious devotion by the citizenry of Ravenna. Witteric states that, “Rather than allow his survival and adoration to fill him with pride, it instead made him humble – he knew not why he had been allowed to survive, but he felt that God had spared him for some purpose. Still, he also understood that the Good Lord could take his life in a moment, as he had done to far more deserving men than him. And so he vowed to not fear death, bur rather to live his life as best he could, in service of the Empire, the People and the Church.”



    Thorismund never fully recovered from the death of much of his family. Already in his later 50s when the malaria outbreak began, the disease broke his health. Though he recovered, we are told that he plagued by maladies for the remaining six years of his life. More and more, he turned his attention to those who would follow him – he built up the imperial finances so that future emperors would be able to protect and expand the realm, and took to the training of his son Theodoric personally. The Emperor and his heir appear to have enjoyed a strong relationship, though it was tainted by the sorrow which united them – that of an old man who had survived his own children, and a child who had witnessed the death of his elders. His one vanity was the construction of the Church of the Holy Family to which he would dedicate himself during every spare moment – his love of the Church would be passed onto his son, and Theodoric would spend much of his own life embellishing it and bringing the construction to completion.

    Thorismund would die in the year 695. Despite the tragedy which consumed the second half of his reign, he left the Empire in a far stronger economic and military situation than he had found it. He also gave care of the realm to a 17 year old son who he had personally trained and raised in the arts of statesmanship and rule. That son would soon overshadow his Father – but the triumphs and tragedies of Theodoric the Fair would not have been possible without the effots of his sorrowful father. [FN5]

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    [FN1] ‘Descended.’ For long-time readers, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Gothic-Franklish relations can just be seen as a prolonged Blood Feud which began a century and a half earlier with the killing of Clovis in battle by Theodemir the Great. Although the currentl ruling dynasty of the Franks are not Merovings (that family is quite extinct), the two peoples could not be said to have ever really enjoyed friendly relations. When the Gothic Empire is strong, it can effestively vassalize the Frankreich, but the second it shows even the smallest weakness, the Franks throw off the yoke and revert to a level of hostile independence. And yes, this isn’t going to change for the better any time soon – in fact, it’s about to get worse.

    [FN2] Athanagild is Amalamir II’s son. Thorismund adopted him and married his Mother upon the death of Amalamir, to help smooth over any negative feelings of his oddly successful, yet unintended, coup. Because of this – and because Thorismund II is actually a pretty good sort – he grants his adopted son land when the boy reaches maturity.

    [FN3] Thanks to the lack of the devastating Gothic Wars and the Lobardo invasion, Ordezo is not destroyed time and time again. However, Venice is beginning to grow as the ‘marsh dwellers’ consolidate their communities – and it will eventually come to dwarf the older Roman community in influence. Though this is sometime in the future.

    [FN4] This is largely as in OTL, believe it or not – Malaria did not spread to Ravenna and Venetia until the early medieval period, and when it did arrive, it appears to have come by trade from the East – the malaria strains present in the region, until its irradication, was the same strain as present in the Levant and Greecce, and not the strain present in Rome. Before I started this chapter, I would have had no idea about this – it’s amazing the things you learn while working on a timeline!

    [FN5] And we are BACK! For a long time I struggled with how to tell the story of Thorismund II – he was a man who came to the throne almost by chance and who I saw as someone who would always be eclipsed by his more famous son. But then I realized that that was kind of the point – whatever is set to happen to Theodoric could never have come to pass after the chaos of the last few Emperors without a steady hand preceeding him. Sadly, since I had already hinted at the illness, I also had to put the poor man and his family through the ringer – the outbreak was always going to be central to his tale. In any case, I hope I crafted a reasonable and realistic man in Thorismund, while hinting at some of the deeds of his son; setting the stage for the wild wide that is ahead of us. Because a number of things I’ve been foreshadowing since the very beginning are going to start coming into play, and I really really hope I’ve done a good enough job describing the state of the Empire and its neighbors to set the stage for what is to come.

    Hope everyone enjoyed this, and sorry for it being a few days later than I had thought. It was an absolutely trainwreck of a week over here, unfortunately (though, luckily, writing this helped me blow off some steam, so that is good). I know there were a few posts made before I updated this and I apologize for not getting around to answering them yet. I will be doing so over the next day or two. As always, though, any questions, comments, rants or the like are always welcome - and thank you, once again, for sticking with me during that unplanned 1.5 year absence! :)
     
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    Chapter 86 Heroes Always Get Remembered (Part 1: The Saga of Emperor Theodoric II)
  • Chapter 86
    Heroes Always Get Remembered (The Saga of Emperor Theodoric II, Part 1)


    Pepin_le_Bref.jpg

    Artistic Depiction of the Coronation of Theodoric II


    Ravenna, September 695 AD

    The crash of the crowd was disconcerting, seeming to both overwhelm and add to the cacophony within his own heart. It was all so much, almost too much, he thought, for any man to handle – but he had to try.

    “My Lord, we’re ready”

    Theodoric nodded to the man, took a deep breath, and stepped forward to the large shield that was waiting for him. He planted hs feet firmly – this was no time to lose his balance and fall – and waited as the attendants lifted him high over their shoulders. [FN1]

    If the noise had been overpowering before, it now became almost unbearable. As the young Emperor was hoisted up by his attendants for all to see, the crowd broke out in cries of jubilation. There were a smattering of screams of “God Save the Emperor,” and “Long Live the Emperor” but the majority of Ravenna’s citizens seemed to settle on simply screaming his name. “Theodoric! Theodoric!” they called out to him, to God, and to no one in particular.

    A grimace griefly crossed Theodoric’s face, before he caught himself and smoothed his features. There were too many watching, and far much to lose by being seen as displeasing of the mass of humanity before him. And, anyway, it wasn’t really that anyway: his brain just had trouble coming to terms with the loud noises, the light of the sun, and every other stimulation that was currently sending his senses into overdrive. He practiced his breathing for a few moments until the feelings passed – a technique he had taught himself as a child – and then forced a broad, beaming smile onto his face as he extended his hand out in a wave.

    “God help me get through this,” he thought to himself, hoping that the Father or the Divine Son would hear him and show kindness.

    It was interesting. He had been preparing for this moment for years and thought he was ready. He had always understood, in some nebulous way, that he would only be standing here following the death of his own father – and he had recognized that this would be sad. But he had always imagined that he would feel a sense of pride as he was carried through the crowd to his coronation, a sense of accomplishment – though for what, he could not say. Surviving? In his family that did seem to be an accomplishment, after the death of his older brothers and mother, but no, that was too base. He had thought his accomplishment would be in being found worthy to stand in the shadow of his illustrious ancestors who had been carried upon the shield into history.

    Now he thought the accomplishment he would treasure the most was in making it through this hell, without falling from the shield and landing on his ass, or bursting out crying. He was seventeen years old, a man, but the main thoughts that ran through his mind was that he missed his father so badly that it physically hurt. The man had always been his hero, the solid foundation that he knew would hold when the storms swept over his family. The elder Emperor had suffered greatly these past years, but he had always seemed so stable, so calm, so eternal. When Theodoric pondered the Face of God, the image in his mind bore more than a little resemblance to Thorismund.

    Watching that great statue of a man wither and subcome to his final illness had been shocking. It was more than sad, it somehow seemed unnatural, abhorant … wrong. And yet it had happened, and here Theodoric stood, facing the crowd, balanced precarious on this shield. He knew without any uncertainty that he was a child. He was far too young to be here, and he half hoped that if he closed his eyes and wished very very hard, that when he opened them again he would wake up and find that this had all been some terrible dream.

    He had even tried it earlier today. Yes, he felt foolish as he did so, but he also knew that he had to try. It hadn’t worked. Obviously. Emperor Thorismund the Second, already being called “the Sorrowful” by his worshipful citizens, was truly dead. And he, Theodoric the Second, (“the scared,” “the unworthy,” his mind whispered until he told that particular voice to quiet itself) stood upon a shield, being carried to the Patriarch of Ravenna to have his reign blessed.

    Luckily, he knew his part well – his Father had prepared him for just this moment. As his attendants made their way towards the still unfinished edifice of the Church of the Holy Family, the crowd parted to let them through. Theodoric reached into a heavy sack by his wide, reached in and pulled out a collection of coins – copper, silver and even a few gold – and hurled them into the crowd like a sower of seeds. The crowd grew more excited, and in a few places, scuffles broke out between particularly enthusiastic – or poor- supporters; but the fights never grew beyond this. Theodoric’s entourage had amongst it some of the most powerful Reiks of the Empire as well as their retainers – any disruption of the public order would be stopped immediately. But more than that, it was because the people loved him - the Boy Who Survived had become the Man of the Hour – and didn’t wish to spoil the moment for him with needless bloodshed. Well, at least, too much.

    As they reached the steps of the unfinished Church, Theodoric saw the Atta decked out in his finest crimson robes – a near match to the imperial purple he was decked out in – waiting to receive him. The crowd surged behind him and his entourage as they neared. Finally his attendants slowly placed the shield on the ground and the new Emperor took a few shaking and unsteady steps as he grew used, once again, to terra firma. He breathed a sign of relief, having passed the first test without humiliating himself.

    “God be with me,” he muttered and then added, “And you too, Father,” as he climbed the first step.

    He was Theodoric the Second of the Western Roman Empire. No longer “The Boy Who Lived,” and not yet “The Fair,” or “The Great,” of later history. Ahead of him would be one of the most celebrated reigns of any Gothic Emperor since Theodemir. He would remake the map of Europe – sometimes, often even, in ways that he had not and could not have foreseen. He would usher in a cultural renaissance which, for all of it’s berevity, would be real and vibrant. Over a thousand years after his death, his name would still be known, and there would be those who truly believed that he slept, awaiting the time of his people’s greatest need, to come again.

    But all of that was ahead of him. And on this, unseasonable chill, September day in the year of our lord Six hundred and nintety-five, Theodoric was a scared boy trying to act like the man he knew his father had wanted him to be, and terrified of letting him down.

    Theodoric would never look back upon his coronation with fond memories.

    The Life of Theodoric the Fait
    By: Witteric Un-tals [FN2]
    Translated and Edited by: Athelrad Edwardson
    London: National University of Sexland Publishing, 1982

    Introduction:

    Some eighteen years ago, I published my dissertation, a new translatin and scholarly edition of Wulfila Strabo’s masterful biography of Theodemir the Great. Much has changed in that time personally; I took a position at the University of Obar Dheathain in the Kingdom of Gaelland as a scholar of the History of the Restoration Era and Restoration Era Literature, met my wife, and welcomed into this world three beautiful children. I also published numerous articles and several monographs on different areas of Restoration Gothic history. I have been lucky to be become seen as an expert on this fascinating era in both the Sexish and Gaelic speaking worlds – especially after the publication of “A Popular History of the Gothic-Roman Emire” some six years ago.

    So why now does it seem that I’m returning to the well, so-to-speak, by publishing a translation of Witteric Un-Tals’ “Life of Theodoric the Fair?” Partially this is because the time is right – the last Sexish-language edition of Witteric was published nearly fifty years ago by the esteemed Dr. Cuthbert Baker, and has long been the standar for those who want to read upon the life of one of the greatest Amaling Emperors. Though I can only strive to reach the scholarly heights of Dr. Baker, the language of his translation has grown mildly archaic over the past five decades; especially as the good Doctor chose to write in a poetic-Sexish which has long since fallen out of vogue. Furthermore, those same five decades have seen a veritable explosion in scholarship related to Theodoric and Witteric in the decades since the collapse of Sigisthiuda rule in the Gottreik; an event which must have been unimaginable to Baker when he labored with his translation.

    As should surprise no one, much of the scholastic reevaluation of Theodoric was initially hostile. Though known by the cognomen “the Fair” throughout the Restoration and Theutish eras, Theodoric was renamed “the Great” by Yearningst scholars of the century prior. The cult of Theodoric became an important part of nationalist mythology and was central to the propaganda of Sigisthiuda in justifying their occupation of much of southern and central Europe. Though it would be unfair to claim that much of said scholarship was mere ‘hack-work’ it is safe to say that the image of Theodoric that emerged in reaction to these modern events was less than complimentary to the long-dead Emperor. One of the few reevaluations which broke new ground was that of Dr. Ingoberg Chilpretson which managed to investigate the impact which Theodoric’s invasions had upon her native Frankland, and examined his life along with his rival Sigebert Langenbart within the context of late seventh and early eighth centuries.

    Luckily, the last decade has seen a reaction against the predominantly negative views of Theodoric which emerged during the Post-War era; while still taking into account some of the breakthroughs of Chilpertson and many of her colleagues. What has emerged in a more well rounded view of the Gothic Emperor, stripped of the much of the mythology of the past century and a half. This Theodoric is no longer a great man of destiny, guided by God to glorify the Gothic Empire. But so too, is he not the militaristic Gothic leader who wishes to force all of Europe to bow to his will. Instead, he is a man of his times, burdened with the unfortunate circumstances of his youth, but possessing a drive and will to live up to the expectations of his Father and followers. We see not a battle-hungry warlord, but instead a man who cared for the arts, literature and faith – albeit, one who felt that his many wars were truly in the greater interest of his realm and people.

    I have lived with Theodoric as my constant companion for many years, in preparing this text. I have sought to travel to the many important places which helped shape his life – from his suspected birthplace in the lands of Avonia, to Ravenna and Rome. I walked the hills and plains of Beneuvre, Metz, Sigiberg, the Weser and Grantabridge. I even hunted Verden, where he died, and traveled to the Thutish-era fortress of Ahwahallus near Trent where legend states that he was buried and where he lay not dead but dreaming. And I would like to think that this modern take on his character and life would be pleasing to him. The Theodoric which emerges from the pages of Witteric is not some vain-glorious conqurer or blood-thirsty tyrant. Instead, he comes across as an ambitious, dedicated man, who passionately loves those close to him, and is faithful in many ways. If he has any great faults, they are those of many men who have been told of their greatness from childhood: he is impatient, occasionally given to rash judgement, and possesses the famed Amalingian temper – though he is equally quick to forgive. Through it all, a great sadness seems to poke through the joys and victories of his life, such as when Witteric tells us that Theodoric wept openly following the second miscarriage of his wife, Radegund – or his sorrow at seeing his youngest sister married away to the Vandal King. He is, in other words, a man made from the same clay as the rest of us.[FN3]



    There are four primary sources which relate to us the life of Theodoric II, though only three of which have survived until the modern time. The first, of course, is Witteric’s biography – a translation of which you hold in your hand- and the second is Sigisbairht the Frodgibands’s “History of the Goths” which was finalized some decades after the Emperor’s death. A third is Walharjis’ “History of the Amalings” which was composed either during or shortly after Theodoric’s reign, but which has since been lost to us. We do know, however, that Sigisbairht quoted freely from Walharjis and cited his work was one of the the later scholars’ major sources. Finally, we have the “Choricle of Theudebald“ – a Frankish chronicle which perports to tell the History of the Franks from their beginnings until the end of the Ruination. Despite these bold claims, much of the chronicle prior to the Fall of the Merovings is highly mythological in nature, and the main focus of the work recounts the rise and fall of Sigebert Landen-Bart, the conquest of Frankland and it’s experiences during the Ruination – leading many to believe that the author was a contemporary of these events.

    Of these, Witteric and Sigisisbairht are the most laudatory, though the latter is not above cirticising the great Gothic Emperor. Theudebald is, naturally enough, largely hostile and reflects the contemporary attitudes which the Franks would have held of their conqurer. Sadly, the Saxons are completely silent about their experiences; and the great transformations which would grip the Saxon state during and after Theodoric’s reign only come down to us second hand, either through reports by their neighbors or folk memories recounted and reorded centuries later during the Theutish Era. The Sexish, surprisingly, are largely silent save for a few references in the Sexo-Anglish Chronicles; a fact which has called into question some of what we have long suspected about Theodoric and his reign, and the claims of the Goths.



    Chapter 2: The Early Reign of Theodoric the Fair [FN4]

    Following his coronation, Theodoric vowed to continue the work of his Father and, at first, little difference could be seen between the young Emperor and the old. The people of Ravenna, who had wept openly with him at the death of his brothers and now father, were at peace. It was said during this time, that young Theodoric had the likeness of his elder, for there were still many those alive who remembered when Thorismund had come to the capitol as a young man, and the people were glad of it. It was believed that if a son carried the likeness of his Father physically, so too he must do so in character as well.

    Much like Thorismund, Theodoric dedicated himself to the completion of the Church of the Holy Familywhere the bodies of his Father, mother, sister and brothers lay in eternal repose. Many days, the young Emperor could be found walking to the Church and overseeing construction himself and he was there so often that many of the workers nicknamed him “The Young Foreman,” and they would often take their sup with him. Others in the Emperor’s position would have been offended by the freeness of the yeomen who labored on his Father’s legacy, but Theodoric took great pride in this title – so much so that he decreed that “foreman” be listed on his tomb when he died.



    Though beloved by the people, there were those who looked upon the death of Thorismund and the ascension of the young Emperor as a sign of the Empire’s weakness. Chief amongst these was Sigebert, the usurper who styled himself King of the Franks. Sigebert had decades earlier, killed the legitimate King Dagobert and married hs daughter Aregund, taking the royal prestige upon himself. A vain and proud man, he forced all the reiks of the Franks to bow to him, and there were those that whispered that he thought himself to be the equal of the Son.

    Even the Saxons learned to fear him, and tales of his cruelty were spread wide and far. For, upon his taking the throne, a Saxon King named Ordulf -whose named meant Spear-Wolf – sensed weakness in his Frankish foes. And he said “It would be good for us to strie now, while they are weak and distracted, and so vanquish our foes forever.” And he raised a mighty troop and descended upon Sigebert. But though the Frakish usurper was callous and cruel, he possessed within him the wit of the Enemy himself. And he lured Ordulf deep into his lands and there cut him down upon the banks of the Rhine, and it is said that so great was the slaughter that the river ran red for several weeks. And even today travelers report hearing the wails of Ordulf’s men as they were cruely slain, for since they had not accepted Christ, they are forced to wander the land for all eternity. [FN5]

    Sigebert thereby vanquished the Saxons of the continent, and for as long as he lived, no Saxon would dare to rise up against him. But his blood-lust was not saited, for he now looked with greed into the Empire and saw there much treasure, and many good Christian men and women who he wished to take as slaves. And so he rallied his armies once again and crossed into the Empire, telling all that he was Clovis reborn and had come to take vengeance upon Goths for their sins against his people. This was during the reign of Amalamir the Second, and few – save Thorismund – were brave enough to stand before him …

    Now, when Sigebert saw the young Theodoric take the throne, he thought to himself “There is a young man leading them. And though, when I was a young man, I slayed a wolf bare-handed, I do not think this child as the strength to match me. And so, much as I did before, I shall cross into Jaile and molest the lands, taking gold, men, and other riches to my capitol of Metz. And should this child stand against me, I shall slay him, and then all the Goths will know me to be their Master.” And this he did. In the year 696, he invaded the Empire and sought to extinguish the ligh of the Goths in that land.




    “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

    In the year 677, King Sigebert of the Franks entered into the old Roman city of Utrecht after a siege of several months. He had come to accept the surrender of King Wulfram of the Frisians. For years, the Frisians and their Saxon neighbors had been a consistent threat to the Kingdom of Frankland; threatening to invade the Christian kingdom whenever its attention was focused upon it’s imperial neighbor to the West. This situation had begun to change five years earlier with the overthrow of Frankish King Dagobert III by his successor, Sigebert; known historically as “Long-Beard.” First the new King had turned his attention east, luring the Saxon reik Ordulf into a trap along the River Rhine and, having subdued his foe, Sigebert wasted no time in turning his attention north.

    Theudebald invests this moment with drama, describing the tattered rainaments of the Frisian King, but the noble dignity that he held within himself as he strode to the conquering Sigebert and knelt, swearing feaslty to his new master. We are told that Sigebert agreed to allow Wulfram to remain in power, in exchange for royal hostages as well as a promise of baptism. Sigebert then embraced the vanquished Frisian King as a brother, with the retainers of both armies cheered. After the Wulfram’s baptism, which occurred that same day, a great feast was held.

    The Kingdom of Frankland during much of the seventh century was a kingdom besieged. Following the defeat of the Merovings a century earlier, Fankland existed in a nebulous state – when the Gothic Empire was strong, the Franks operated as vassals of their more powerful neighbor; such as when Amalamir crushed the armies of King Clothar and exended imperial suzerainty over the state. However, when the Empire was weak – such as during the course of the Kunis Wars – the Franks would throw off the Imperial yoke and turned their attention towards raiding and plundering their neighbor. In this, they were only checked by the presence of the hostile Saxons and Frisians along their eastern and northern borders, respectively. Although the Saxons and Frisians were unable to act in concord with the Empire due to their refusal to accept Christianity, this didn’t prevent them from exploiting Gothic-Frankish tensions by attacking and raiding the Franks whenever possible.

    This state of affairs would remain in place until the overthrow of Dagobert by Sigebert in roughly the year 670-72. Although Sigebert appeared to claim royal blood, he was not directly related to the main royal line of the Fredegarlings who had ruled the Franks for fifty years prior. Despite this, he was of a high enough rank to serve in the Gothic military during the reign of Theodebert II and Thorismund the Good, fighting in the losing campaign against the Moravians. This afforded him a certain amount of social prestige, which allowed him to marry the younger daughter of a Gothicnoble family in order to secure his loyalty.

    Meanwhile, Dagobert was a weak ruler. Although the Franks continued to practice the older inheritance practices of their Merovingian ancestors, Dagobert III inherited a unified Kingdom, following the death of his father Gunthar II. However, Dagobert would prove to be a weak ruler – rumors told that he was a cuckold several times over with his wives, and that Sigebert himself was one of the suitors. Whatever the truth of those stories, Sigebert raised the banner of rebellion and after a short, but vicious, campaign, he proved victorious, taking a daughter of Gunthar as his wife, shaved Dagobert’s head and sentencing him to the life of a monk. [FN6] Sigebert then, according to even the most friendly sources, strangled his Gothic wife and refused to allow her a Chrsitian burial, instead allowing her body to rot in the city center of Metz. [FN7]

    Sigebert‘s reign coincided with the growing economic strength of Frankland, which had been experiencing the growth of trading towns for the past several decades. Although Gothic sources continued the tradition of treating Frankland as a desert, archeological data shows us that the Kingdom had entered into a period of economic growth – hampered only by its political instability and weak leadership. Sigebert would provide the leadership that was needed, harnessing the inherent strength of the realm and using it to project power over its neighbors. Unfortunately for the Franks, Sigebert underestimated the abilities of Theodoric II – nicknamed either the Fair or the Great depending on the era of scholarship – and this would lead to the end of not only his life, but also his Kingdom.



    Although Gothic historical sources would attempt to depict Sigebert as a conquerer, determined to wrest Jaile from the Western Empire and reestablish Franking hegemony over the region. In this, they are likely conflating the proto-nationalistic goals of Sigebert with the extent of the realm established by Ruination-era Imperial pretender Baderic. A careful analysis of the King and his movements suggests a more realistic policy; had his goal been the conquest of Jaile, he would have forced a settlement with the Empire following his occupation of which of the territory during the reign of Amalamir II. Instead, his withdrawl following the ascension of Thorismund II to the purple suggests that the invasion was a glorified raid meant to increase his own prestige as well as the wealth of the Frankish Kingdom.

    It seems safe to assume then, that grand conquest was not the endgame for the Frankish King. The clue as to his actual goals lies in his humiliation of the Saxons and later subjugation of the Frisians. Namely, after decades of weak rule, Sigebert wished to pacify the neighbors of the Franks at all costs, strengthen the Kingdom, and establish its defacto as well as dejure independence from the Gothic Empire. His greatest goal was to wrest Frankland forever from the sphere of the Goths and establish it as a strong nation free from foreign interfearance which could operate for itself on the international stage – if one will allow the use of modern terminology. This naturally included humiliating the Goths and bringing them to the table for peace talks, but if such a situation could not realistically be brought about, it would be enough to prove that the Franks could not be militarily defeated and could, in fact, project their power deep into Imperial territories.



    The invasion of 696 then, then, marked a gamble by Sigebert, but a measured one. Already elderly for his era, he had ruled for over 24 years and must have been in his mid-50s at the youngest. During that time he had proven himself well versed in the arts of war, and likely felt that Jaille had recovered enough to make such an expedition fruitful and profitable for himself and the state. Furthermore, the Emperor of the Goths was little more than a boy and would be easy to out manuever and defeat if it came to that – likely, Sigebert felt it would be more likely that the young man would attempt to buy him off with a promise of tribute, which also served his purposes.

    Of course, Sigebert would ultimately be proven correct in the short term …

    The Life of Theodoric the Fait
    By: Witteric Un-tals
    Translated and Edited by: Athelrad Edwardson
    London: National University of Sexland Publishing, 1982

    Word quickly reached Ravenna of the atrocities committed by the Frankish villains. Theodoric was yet a young man, but he did not shirk his responsibilities to his people nor quiver in fear. Instead, he grew wroth and summoned the bannermen of the Goths and the Romans too, and amassed a grand army. He know that the loyal reiks of Jaille would be stiff-necked and refuse to bow to the invader, giving him time to draw up his own forces and march to their relief.

    Having done so, he marched. Though this would be his first war, Theodoric was not unaccustomed to the military camp, having accompanied his father on military excursions in the past. And he had studied the great military leaders of the past – though not in as much depth as he would soon come too. It was said on this march that the soldiers came to love him, for he supped with them, shared in their jokes, and would often invite others back to his tent for beer and wine. They saw him as one of their own, and many vowed that they would die for him, rather than let him come to harm. One such man was Lucius, a Roman of the Aquila lineage who’s would soon prove himself the closest friend of the Emperor, and there were those who called the pair a latter day David and Jonathan.



    It would be at Beneuvre at the forces of the Goths met those of the Franks. Sigebert had bethe baen cleaver and upon notice of the Goths’ advance, he had made to withdrawl as if he feared the superior might of his foe. Theodoric chased his foe for several days until he was deep within the forest, and there Sigebert laid his trap. His forces sprang from the wood and assailed the Goths, cutting down many of their unsuspecting enemy. There was a great bloodshed and it soon seemed as if all was lost, and the great Emperor would fall to the swords of the Frankman.

    Indeed, Theodoric was nearly bested by a Frank thane, before the Roman warrior Lucius came to his rescue, driving his blade into the foeman, and saving the life of the Emperor. With this stroke, Theodoric overcame his own shock and was able to rally his men, and they retreated in an orderly fashion, dealing many cruel blows to the Franks who sought to end their lives. Soon the Goths were free and marching south.

    Though Theodoric, until the end of his days, would mourn the men lost at Beneuvre, counting it forever as his only great loss, battle had also bloodied the Franks. Seeing that they could not overwhelm the Goths, Sigebert Laggs-Bards ordered his men to retreat as well. They carried much wealth with them back to the lands of the Franks, but Sigebert was bitter for he knew that he had not truly vanquished his foe. And he knew, further, that Theodoric would return, stronger and more able than before. For he had seen the Emperor in battle and had remarked to his son Sigefriend, “There is a true warrior. For though bested, he continues to fight. And a man such as that will not stop until all of his foes lay dead before him.” The Frankish King would prove to be correct in his judgement and from this time onward, he knew it was just a matter of time before the Goths returned to extract their vengeance, and he was afraid. [FN8]

    August 696
    Somewhere North of Dijon

    Throughout the camp there was no the sense of misery and depression which he had thought there might be. Instead, the men talked and drank around a myriad of camp fires – though guards remained at attention, scouts had reported that the main force of King Sigebert’s forces were heading North. And so the men celebrated. Not victory, no – there had been little victory in the forests of Beneuvre but the simple reality of being alive.

    None blamed him, of course. Even Theodoric’s closest advisors told him that they had been caught as unaware as he himself had. But this did little to cheer him, or lift the guilt from his heavy shoulders. His men had trusted him, and he had led them into a trap. He wished that he saw hatred in their eyes as they walked past his tent, but instead he saw only their paternal pity, and this drove the knives in all the deeper.

    Theodoric sighed and nearly hugged the cup of mulled wine as he brought it to his lips and took a shallow swallow.

    “My lord,” I voice called out from the darkness.

    Theodoric just grunted in acknowledgment.

    “You asked us to find the man who you claimed saved your life.”

    At this, Theodoric lifted his attention from his cup and felt a small surge of life return, chasing away the depression. “Yes. Yes I did. Have you found him.”

    The voice was attached to a man who simply nodded and stepped aside, letting another man walk into the circle of light given off by the fire.

    Theodoric felt his throat contract as he looked up to see quite possible the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on. Unlike most Romans, the man had light hair rather than dark, but his chiseled featured spoke of an ancestry which sprung deep from the central parts of the peninsula: light, olive collored skin, brown eyes and a prominent chiseled nose. Without thinking, Theodoric stood to meet the man, and said “Is it true? Are you the one who saved me when the Frank had broken through my defenses?”

    He had no idea why he even asked that question – the entire incident had happened in a flash; one moment he was sprawled on his back, and the next his attacked had a sword protruding from his belly, but he immediately recognized the soldier.

    “Aye, it was me,” the Roman replied with a smile that was both confident, yet seemed oddly sheepish.

    “And your name,” Theodoric asked, before catching himself. The man spoke Gothic in stilted, heavily-accented way, which he had often heard from even the most educated of the Senatorial class in Rome. “Would you prefer to speak in Latin,” he asked in that language?

    The man smiled broader and laughed, “No, I speak Gothic, but I thank you all the same.”

    The smile was infectious and soon Theodoric found himself sharing in it. “I owe you my life. Would you allow me to repay you with a drink at the very least?” Though he had servants, he reached for a glass, poured it full of mulled wine and practically thrust it into the hands of the Roman soldier.

    “I thank you. And to answer your question, my name is Lucius Aquila. If your wine is as strong as your Latin, I’d be more than happy to have a cup by your side.” [FN9]

    “I don’t just speak Latin and Gothic, of course,” Theodoric said with a hint of fluster to his voice. Switching laguages again, he smiles and added, “I’ve studied Greek since I was a child as well.”

    Lucius laugh at this, “If your fighting was as good as your linguistis, I’d have not had to save you,” he said in Greek which was only slightly more accented than the Emperor’s own.

    The second these words passed his lips, Lucius’s eyes grew wide and his hand shot up to cover his mouth, as if to close the stable door, long after the horses had already fled. In the fire light Theodoric could see his savior’s face grow pale and then turn a deep crimson (accented, of course, by the flickering of the flames between them.). Beads of sweat began to pour from his brow, and it was likely the fire had little to do with this.

    Theodoric raised an eye brow as he considered the comment, and then burst out laughing. “Too true,” he said, “too true! I suppose I should have spent less time as a child reading Homer and even more practicing with my elder brothers.” His voice caught, as he thought of his brothers, and a cloud passed over his eyes.

    Lucius seemed to catch the mood, “I apologize for the familiarity, my Emperor. I shouldn’t have spoken as such. But if you will allow me to say so, I too had older brothers. One died fighting against Sigebert years earlier, when I was buy a child, and another died of illness. I know what it’s like to lose those close to me.”

    Theodoric looked into his cup and drank, thinking. Finally he said, “Think nothing of it. What kind of Emperor would I be if I punished men for telling me the truth? I respect your honesty. My father always told me that an honest man was worth twice the weight of a flatterer in gold. And he was rarely wrong about such things.”

    Lucius relaxed and sat by the fire. The two men drank silently for some minutes, the Emperor thinking and Lucius unwilling to interrupt those thoughts. Occasionally, their eyes would meet, and one of the other would quickly dart their eyes aside as if having been stung.

    Theodoric’s mind was in a fog. He didn’t know what it was about this Roman before him, but his heart fluttered and he felt far warmer than he should be this night. Though his tutors had often told him that he had a way with words in debate, he suddenly felt terrified to open his mouth, let his tongue fall out and betray him.

    This had happened before, of course. There had been a few other young men in his day – but those had been mere daliances, easily able to be covered up by his Father and the rest of the court. But here he was in the midst of a war camp, with all too many eyes upon him. Theodoric knew he needed to be careful, but he also knew that he had to do something.

    Finally, he made his decision. “Lucius, would you sup with me tonight? It’s the least I can offer a man who’s bravery and skilled saved by own miserable life.”

    Lucius coughed, and there was more than a little shock behind that jesture. “My Lord, it would be my honor. I swear.”

    Theodoric smiled – one of the few times he had truly smiled over the past several days. “Good! And please, call me Theodoric. Titles are great for the court, but much less needed on campaign. Especially amongst friends.” He added extra emphasis to those last few words and wondered in Lucius caught them.

    The blush which rose upon the Roman’s cheeks said that they did.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    [FN1] Emperors had done so before. It was said that Theodebert I stumbled upon being lifted on the shield. The fact that the Fourth Punic War went against his desires was, of course, lost on no one. Stumbling or slipping would be seen as, at best, bad luck and at worse, a sign from god of the emperor’s unworthiness. Mind you, other Emperor have done so as well; standing on a bloody shield as its being lifted is an awkward mauever to any but the most acrobatically inclined. But do they get remembered? A bit, maybe – Thorismund the Good stumbled a bit (yes, he was a bit drunk at the time) so some tongues waged about it foreshadowing his troubles with the Church – but really, it’s mainly Theodebert who gets dragged up from the popular memory. Poor Theodebert. Oddly enough (and this is widely forgotten by the crowd) Athaneric and Amalamir II both pulled off the manuever without a hitch: and they had utterly dreadful reigns!

    [FN2] Un-tals means, literally “the indocile.” One can suspect that, unlike many scholars who are deferential and devoted chiefly to their work – old Witteric has a somewhat different disposition. Whether this works its way into his narrative is left to be seen; it will become obvious that he was truly devoted to Theodoric. But it seems, he was able to gain imperial favor despite, or perhaps because of, a certain reputation.

    [FN3] SOOOO much foreshadowing here in this paragraph 😊 Also, if anyone can suggest a good Gothic cognate for Avigon, I would be happy to hear it!

    [FN4] Modern chapter headings, of course. Early medieval books didn’t work that way 😉

    [FN5] The Saxons didn’t actually HAVE Kings at this point – as we will learn in subsequent chapters – so assume this was an amibitious Earl or military leader. One of the problems of sources from this era; people assumed everyone else had many of the same titles and ranks they did. So of COURSE a strong Saxon leader would be a King.

    [FN6] You may notice that despite the Goths describing Sigebert as the Devil himself, he doesn’t seem particularly violent – he sentences a rival to a monastery and allows another ot keep his throne as long as he vows loyalty and to convert.

    [FN7] Okaaaaaaayyyyyy … never mind.

    [FN8] One might assume that Witteric is reading later events back into the past, along with a healthy dose of wishful thinking to boot!

    [FN9] This is NOT the first time we’ve met Lucius. Not the first time at all; though he has gone under a few different names in past chapters.

    And here we go! The first chapter of the cycle which will deal with the life and reign of Theodoric II. This had to do some establishing work before we can get into the 'good stuff' - but hopefully it helped establish his character and the political situation (to an extent) that our long promised Emperor will have to deal with. As usual, any questions or comments are always welcome!
     
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    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)

    Metz_-_Eglise_Saint-Pierre-aux-Nonnais_-_Vue_du_c%C3%B4t%C3%A9_Est.jpg

    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.

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    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?) :)
     
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