The long reign of Stjepan I Držislav was a fruitful one for the Kingdom of Croatia, but the issue of succession had become an ominous threat for his realm, as there were three brothers vying for their chance to shine and continue their father's legacy.
Svetoslav, the eldest, thought of by many as the coldest and most unfeeling of the brothers, ends up being declared his father's heir, but the looming menaces are manifold, strengthening their choke-hold on the surrounded kingdom, from Krešimir and Gojslav plotting to make their move for the throne, the Venetians hell-bent on avenging their Doge's death all those years ago, Hungary destabilized from a civil war of its own and the aggressive Bulgars under Samuil creating the largest nation the Balkans had seen since the days of Byzantine Emperor Justinian I.
Chronicon Venetum, the account of a Venetian chronicler known only as Daniel the Deacon from circa 1102 CE serves as one of the most important sources pertaining to the Early Middle Ages in the Adriatic and Eastern Mediterranean Seas, and the modern English translation below intends to shine a light on one of the most scarcely documented periods of history.
It is believed that the tragic fall of the bounteous Roman Empire in the West triggered what many of mine own contemporaries deem the darkest period of the Continent's history, and there are several sources that have come before and will come once more that cover this matter in depth. The travels of the eastern peoples brought about the absolute collapse of the pinnacle of world civilization. From the historic riches of Hispania to the hills and valleys of old Illyricum, the pillars of the world had fallen into disarray with the centuries of darkness that had descended upon the Old World. Rare few remained who desired to keep the flame of the West burning into the ages, one of them being the judicious institution of the Church. Regardless of its schisms after so many hardships endured, members of the holy order provided the written documents pertaining to the history of nations that had occurred after the Great Fall of the West.
My story and my purpose are, therefore, evident, though the name of Daniel the Deacon matters little. What always mattered since the dawn of time were not the names of men, but their great deeds they had the courtesy of giving to mankind before departing for the Empyrean. This book, in my sincerest hopes, shall be able to provide some assistance in ascertaining the history of the east coast of the Upper Sea in the last one hundred years of Our Lord.
The Realm of the Croats had been a constant thorn in Serenissima's side ever since the admirable reign of Emperor Heraclius over four centuries prior to the pen hitting this yellow paper of Chronicon Venetum. Over the years, the aim of the Most Serene Republic of Venice to wrest control of the many islands of former Illyricum was thwarted on numerous occasions with the help of other Slavic tribes further south, mainly the Narentani. In their vain attempt to discredit the esteemed position of the Doge, the embarrassing toll had to be paid to the barbaric Slavs on a yearly basis since the blood of Pietro I Candiano grazed the fields of Muccurum over two hundred years ago. The unfavourable position was also not helped by the incessant power struggles between two noble houses of Orseolo and Candiano that left Venice in a perpetual state of turmoil. By the grace of Our Lord, the peoples of the Republic of Venice had their prayers answered when in 991 Anno Domini the ancient House of Orseolo fielded their finest to the position of La Serenissima's leadership – Pietro II Orseolo.
An ambitious man, a rare sight to see in those waning days of the tenth century after the Savior's ascension, Doge Orseolo sought to right the wrongs forced upon the Lion of Saint Mark by the Slavs during their tumultuous coexistence, for it is clear that it is the Republic's God-given right to utilize the clusters of islets and coves much as it used to be in the glorious days of Emperor Augustus all those years ago. Doge Orseolo, understanding very well the implication of the binding of Rhoman and Croatian realms during the reigns of Basilius II and Stephanus I Dirzislaus, intended to replace the Kingdom of Croatia as one of the most loyal Rhoman allies. By the providence of the city's noblemen, His Serenity prevailed over the corruptible Candiani, aligning the Venetian country with the Rhoman center of power in Constantinople in the years that followed, promising to the people of Venice a vast, ambitious plan solely focused on restoring the prestige that had been lost in the darkness, like wax of a long-ignited candle whose one purpose had been lost on everybody in the blackness that enraptured only the worst of its enemies.
Before it is time to cover the Disastrous Expedition, one must ascertain the situation in the northern Adriatic Sea during the final days of Stephanus I Dirzislaus. The old king, having been bestowed with a longer reign than any other documented descendant of Duke Trepimerus that came before him, was graced with a wholly unique trait that differentiated him from any other ruler of Slavic origin heretofore – wisdom. A kind man of noble birth, his was the caring personality the men and women alike sang songs of, whether it be in court or in the seediest tavern in the middle of green nothingness. Fostering closer relations with Basilius II and the Rhomans, Dirzislaus was awarded the title of Patriarch and Exarch of Dalmatia accompanied by the appropriate imperial insignia, essentially acknowledging his authority over the Theme of Dalmatia and setting the Most Serene Republic's progress back for the meantime. This, in fact, made Dirzislaus the first acknowledged King of the Croats, regardless of what many pro-Slavic chroniclers like to say. The age of prosperity was something never before seen under the supervision of Slavic rulers, and regardless of any enmities one might feel due to the man's stature and origin, a deep sense of reluctant respect was certainly felt on enemies and allies alike during his time.
The matter of succession came to be a recurring issue plaguing the latter half of his reign. The Frankish law enforced by Emperor Clovis in the days of yore believed that the country should be divided equally amongst all living male heirs, whilst the Carolingians gave their fiefs and kingdoms exclusively to the eldest living male heir. Dirzislaus contemplated the contentious subject during his waning days, having three sons he had to choose from. Suetoslaus, his eldest, was already named Duke during his lifetime, a clear sign of Dirzislaus' approval, but from the early days it came to be evident that the so-called Surigna, as the Slavs began calling him due to his unflinchingly icy behaviour, was the wrong choice. Therefore, about 995 AD, Dirzislaus went back on his decision, naming Cresimir and Goislaus as Suetoslaus' co-rulers.
The decision produced much outrage from Surigna's loyalists, but none dared to go against the old king's decree, especially since at the time La Serenissima started threatening the east coast at the same time as Samuel and his Bulgar savages from the southeast raided the mountainous borderlands, pillaging, raiding, razing and raping anything they could get their hairy hands on. The frivolity of the ensuing situation left the high possibility of a civil war utterly destroying the Realm of the Croats up in the air, raising the chances of the Kingdom not seeing its first century of existence fulfilled before then.
It is believed that it was actually Suetoslaus who took matters into his own hands, though there are many who still dispute the claim that Cresimir's goring by a boar during a joint hunting session between the two eldest brothers was anything but accidental. Needless to say, only Suetoslaus and Goislaus remained afterwards, and allegedly Dirzislaus died from grief the following year, being unable to move on from his middle son's violent, but most of all premature death. With Dirzislaus' passing, Suetoslaus proclaimed himself King, and his brother, barely a child of fifteen at the time, his co-ruler. The golden age of the House of Trepimerus came to its end, and a cloud of uncertainty descended on Suetoslaus and Goislaus' realm.
Doge Orseolo had already begun his naval expedition to reclaim the rightful Venetian territory in the east. The Dalmatian cities such as Salona, Iadera and Spalatum immediately put their support behind Pietro Orseolo's campaign of liberation, having suffered from Suetoslaus' allies' raids from north of the Narenta River. To say that anybody was surprised at the alignment of the Narentans with Suetoslaus' careless rule would be a blatant lie, for there were many a topic the two factions could find agreement over, and not just their penchant for lawlessness and blood. In spite of appearing to hope to make amends with Pietro II, the violent, cold man of the mountains still desired, more than anything, to retain his control over the Theme of Dalmatia.
Basilius II, unable to intercede in the growing tension between the two Rhoman allies due to containing the Bulgar menace within his own borders, made Rhomania neutral no matter the outcome of the war between the Most Serene Republic and the King of the Slavs. Dirzislaus' policy of peace and prosperity did not do Suetoslaus any favors, as the feared Croat navy of old was largely disbanded as a sign of the old king's goodwill toward the Rhomanized populace of the cities.
Having caught the Narentine pirates by surprise on Ascension Day close to the island of Issa with six strong Venetian ships, Doge Orseolo personally oversaw the glorious victory over the Narentan bandits, retaking control of the island once more and taking most of its inhabitants into captivity. Seeing the immediate successes of his first engagement, the venerable Pietro II proudly proclaimed his eldest son Giovanni as Dux Dalmatiae, perhaps as immediate insult to Suetoslaus' poor conduct at sea, perhaps as a means of weakening Surigna's claim to the kingship over the Dalmatians, it is not exactly clear, but the effect was immediate, for Doge Orseolo's celebratory march across the island took a moon's turn to be completed, with boastful feasts, loud music and even more grandiose plans that the Orseolo patriarch intended to fulfill quite soon, all the while captain of the navy Badoari Bragadin was ordered to utterly destroy the Narentine base located on what was called the Emperor's Island during the golden years that had long since passed.
Word of Bragadin's success quickly reached the island, only giving the rest of the Venetian commanders more reason to revel in their triumphs, though the Venetian captain's hastened return from his well-executed mission to the base at Issa turned out to be more than tragic in its outcome, for the hateful King of the Slavs prepared his response, one that was more than expected from a creature focused more on backstabbing and petty disputes rather than facing the matters of his state directly. With that in mind, a puny Narentine-Croat fleet of little else but condurae and sagenae ambushed the advanced, though unfortunately unsuspecting ships of the Most Serene Republic. Suetoslaus, Goislaus and a Narentan captain, perhaps even a king whose name had been lost to history, personally boarded the sturdy ships of the Doge and began steadily cutting down every man on board, regardless of his standing and even their innumerable families that had eagerly awaited their fathers, husbands and brothers back home.
The sources regarding the Ambush at Issa are few and far between, their claims of the unfair battle varying between each other wildly. With fair certainty, I am of the belief that Suetoslaus, if his future actions are to be taken into consideration, personally slain the surprised Doge Pietro in single combat, though even that recalling may be disputed, as Surigna likely cut down the wise Doge before the man could even raise his hand in an intelligent, but ultimately hopeless attempt at diplomacy. The moment the head of the Orseolo family's body hit the hardwood floor of the quarterdeck roof, the entire fleet, captain Bragadin included, surrendered, faces already drawn from dread and fear at the mere thought of the uncertainty of their fates. In the midst of fierce battle, thought to have lasted for the entire night, the co-ruler of Croatia was slain by a wandering Venetian lance. Or so they say, as it would not be wholly unsurprising for Suetoslaus to have arranged for Goislaus to be stabbed in the back in order to secure his claim to the throne as the sole descendant of Trepimerus.
With the victory claimed for the Croat-Narentine coalition, three or four Venetian ships claimed for their fleet, and with Goislaus out of his way, Suetoslaus was free to decide the fate of his captives. Dropping all pretenses of cordiality, he ordered half the prisoners, including Bragadin, to have their right hand cut off before sending them to Venice under the order to have the ransom paid for the other half of the prisoners who would remain untouched. Among the prisoners closely guarded by the unknown Narentan king-commander on Issa was also the body of Pietro II, the fallen Doge whose weight of his promises crushed him entirely in the end, as though the sheer pride of his brought about the inevitable downfall that even the sage man of the people such as him could not evade. The offer, though, did not include the well-being of Orseolo's body, for half a year later, once the Venetian fleet returned with the ransom money, the astute Doge's body was wrapped in commoner's clothes, with his right hand seemingly cleaved off at the forearm. It is not known whether this event had occurred mid-battle or after it, but it is evident that Suetoslaus Surigna did not uphold his end of the bargain in the end. Unfortunately for the enraged Venetians, the newly elected Doge Vitale II Candiano's orders were quite clear – no matter what, pay the ransom and return the men back to their homes. The location of the brutal close-quarters combat, ever since the dark days of Suetislaus' victory, has begun to be referred to as the Doge's Hand by both natives and foreigners alike, with King Michael II Sclavianus ordering the building of a military outpost of the same name on the island eight decades later, forever leaving a mark of shame on Venetian history and legacy that is unable to be washed away by any deacons, chroniclers and historians who might desire otherwise.
The Doge's Hand (in the distance), Issa
Another thing going in Suetoslaus' favour was also the fact that immediately after subduing the Venetians, word reached his ear of a large Bulgar army amassing in the southeast under Samuel's direct command. Sending word to Guardas, the Ban of the realm and the successor to Godemerus in Dirzislaus' final days, Suetoslaus set sail for Muccurum, soon disembarking in the Narentine capital city where he joined the rest of the Narentine ruling family. No documentation exists of the precise reason for the King's prolonged stay there, but he is reported to have stayed for over three months at court all the while the new Bulgar ruler Samuel brought to heel the realms of Zachlumia, Tribunia and Dioclea and forcing his way into the easternmost Croat lands. This type of policy is one of the finest, clearest indicators of Suetoslaus' absolute lack of regard for the plights of his subjects, as the sparsely populated villages of the frontier vanished one by one thanks to Bulgar torches.
Assembling an army of about thirty thousands souls under the combined command of Suetoslaus, Guardas and an unnamed Zupannis of Imota County, the Slavs set out toward the east, where Samuel was reported to have last been seen by the scouts. Settlement after settlement, the imposing formation encountered children, women and men with drained faces, worry cutting deeply into their expression, more than any speck of dirt or dust would be able to do. Not helping matters was also Suetoslaus' steely gaze, with an old saying from his time mentioning that the only thing that could heat up the ice water flowing through Surigna's veins was the bloodlust he seldom had to suppress during the first years of his reign.
The first clash between the two Slavic factions came about three moons after the anniversary of Christ's resurrection, under the scorching light of the Sun at Mons Melcumanus, the place known to many as one of the most densely forested in Haemus and even further. On a small grassy plain adjacent to the voluptuous mountain, the Bulgar horde under Zaiccus was on its way to the west, likely intending for the pirate Kingdom of Narentania to be their next target.
The Slav king ordered an immediate clash with his enemies by dividing the army in two, with Guardas' half having to attack from the right flank whilst Surigna charged into the foes from the front. The Ban's troops climbed the steep side of the mountain surprisingly quietly for such a sizable contingent, but it is no surprise to report that the ploy meant very little in the end as the army's location was discovered. To this very day, even in 1102 Anno Domini at the time of my writing, the Croats blame a nameless traitor in their midst for revealing the location of Guardas' movements, but that may easily be disputed as another of pro-Suetoslaus historiographers' talking points made up of haves and have-nots that hopelessly try to manipulate history in their favour ever since.
Nevertheless, the element of surprise vanished as quickly as all hopes of putting the invading threat to rest. The fight is believed to have lasted for two whole sun cycles, and the lush greenery of the highlands turned red from the pervading river of Slav blood. The Bulgars turned victors in the end, and Guardas and Suetoslaus were forced to leave the Imotan Headman's desecrated corpse behind as their disorderly retreat left even more dead behind for the barbarians to feast upon. The situation soon turned from manageable to desperate after merely one short battle.
The clash between the Bulgars and the Croats at Mons Melcumanus (c. 998–999 AD)
The son of Dirzislaus sullenly declared his opposition to meeting the Bulgars on open field afterwards, and with the Narentine allies of Suetoslaus standing in Samuel's path to the north, the assumption was made that the pirates' capital seat of Muccurum was next on their list of targets. The tactic of scorched earth, a staple in many wars in the post-Western Empire world was utilized on a massive scale by none other than the man with ice for eyes. A sure sign of Surigna's steady descent into nascent amorality, the burning of Slavic villages along the path to the coast did not serve a mere tactical purpose, that being the inability for the enemy to use the resources of the land they are about to invade, but rather as a means of striking fear into the hearts of both his enemies and his vassals alike.
With a token force under Banus Guardas left behind to slow down the Bulgars as much as possible, Suetoslaus and the pirate overlords prepared the defenses of the small town as best as they could. Every peasant regardless of age or sex was forced to do harsh labour in order to build up the city's meagre defenses against the coming tidal wave, though not from the sea. If it were any other ruler, it may have been an easy assumption to make that the people giving their lives for the safety of the town's walls would have been cared and provided for, but in the case of Suetoslaus, many people had died, either from exhaustion or from the brutality of Surigna's sycophants at any perceived slight or inability to do enough work in what little time they had been given.
It is unknown when exactly Zaiccus had arrived at the walls of Moccurum, nor is the precise duration of the siege documented anywhere but the Slavic sources, but it is safe to assume that the coastal settlement had endured, at a very conservative estimate, at least four moons of destruction, but in the end, the mad king had prevailed against insurmountable odds. Many attribute the main cause for such an important victory to the rather brilliant system of trenches that, according to Ioannes the Deacon, caused the enemy to charge the seemingly open gates on an artificially created protrusion in the ground that led straight into a deep ravine where sharp stakes had been erected, leading hundreds, if not thousands of unassuming Bulgars into their horrific graves. Additionally, what eased the siege for the defenders was the combined Croat-Narentine fleet that had brought a continuous stream of supplies from the sea, which in the end would only tire out the attackers.
It is said that the stench of rotting corpses beneath the walls became so revolting that the invading force decided on retreating to their lands, just as Suetoslaus' sharp glint in his unfeeling eyes tore right through the backs of their armour – a permanent reminder never to attack the Realm of the Croats ever again. True to this tale, ever since the eve of the tenth century, not a single Bulgar had entered the lands of the House of Trepimerus with the intent of conquering it.
Once the threat was declared to be contained, the defenders left the city in order to loot the many foul-smelling bodies impaled on the wooden sticks outside. Among the dead was also, according to some, the body of the Bulgar general – Zaicchus, an arrow having passed through his eye, staining his face with a long-ago dried pool of blood. The Bulgar expedition leader's torso was safely wrapped in pristine Rhoman mail, its delicate yet sturdy handcrafted metal adorned with such delicate attention to detail that there was no doubt in anyone's mind that it once belonged to a Rhoman high-ranking officer that was slain in battle by the barbarians and subsequently stolen from. What better poetic justice is there than to have some unnamed blacksmith's masterpiece exchange hands not once, but twice in such a short amount of time between two monstrous men that seldom differed from each other.
King Suetoslaus did not have much time to recoup his losses, nor to celebrate his victory in any fashion, for rumours of the supposed murders of both his brothers at his own hands began circulating not only his holdings, but the rest of the civilized West. The act of kin-slaying had, since the times of the Western Empire, been considered a taboo and one of the worst crimes a man could possibly commit. Therefore, even Christendom, despite its initial animosity towards the Roman Empire, adopted the idea behind punishing those deemed guilty of the sacrilegious crime. Silvester II, the Holy Father, sent a letter to the King of the Croats and the Dalmatians, demanding his appearance in Spalatum at the earliest possible opportunity, where he would have to prove his innocence before the world.
Having arrived to the ancient Roman city, the king and his escort were greeted by Martinus II and his priests. The man of ancient features had been at the helm of the Metropolitanate of Salona, according to some, for over thirty years before meeting the head of the House of Trepimerus. Disdain was likely an evident feature on his wrinkly face as a number of dissimilarities between Suetoslaus and Dirzislaus became more and more evident during the King's stay in the Mediterranean city. The so-called trial lasted quite shortly, and was reportedly over in a single afternoon after Suetoslaus tightly clutched the upper half of the Holy Cross in front of his twelve Headmen, who were witnesses to the whole affair as Martinus and the papal legate observed his oath of truthfulness spoken both in Slavonic and in Latin – a clear sign of Surigna's balancing act between the pro-autonomist Eastern Church and the wise teachings of the Western Church.
The next few years of Suetoslaus' reign of terror are shrouded in mystery, for there is little documentation regarding the types of policies he had enacted, but judging from his later actions, it is safe to assume that he relegated much of his responsibilities to Guardas, one of his most loyal servants. Many believe that the sprawling monastery of Sanctus Bartholomaeus had been built with Croat funding during that time just outside Muccurum, on the site of the gory battle that had occurred only years before against the barbaric invaders – evidence at the growing cult surrounding Bartholomaeus' life's work that the rulers of the House of Trepimerus seemed to have adopted with open hands.
The ties between the Narentines and the Croats were, therefore, made even stronger with the cordial relations between Surigna and the pirate king. Stephanus, second of his name, the Slav king's only son and designated successor, was apparently betrothed to the eldest Narentine princess as a means of uniting the two realms, but the exact placement of the marriage in the chronology of the country's history is uncertain. Nevertheless, the pact was sealed either before Suetoslaus' departure for war or right after his return. According to some, the betrothal turned out to be crucial for the future of both kingdoms, much of which shall be covered at a later date.
Additionally, Suetoslaus' Queen, likely around that particular period, bore him another child, another son to carry on his legacy. Trepimerus was birthed in the inhospitable rock of the royal capital at Clissa, and many courtiers had declared that the boy would be destined for great things, having been the third to carry that Slavic name after two of his most able-bodied ancestors. Later historiography, though, would beg to differ in that regard, but that is not the story that must be be carried over to the pages of history, not today.
The exact date of Suetoslaus' second expedition against the Bulgars is unknown, but what did remain written down throughout the generations was his decision to leave Guardas behind to rule as a Regent of sorts for young Crown Prince Stephanus in case of his liberation campaign going awry. What many categorize as the main reason for his departure is the letter that was supposedly sent by Emperor Basilius II himself, addressing the ruler of the House of Trepimerus as a loyal Rhoman vassal and the guardian of the Dalmatian cities, much like his father in the not so distant past, and demanding of him the affirmation of said loyalty by means of assisting the Rhoman war effort in the southeast. Unfortunately, the apparent letter did not withstand the ravages of time, and is to be deemed to be of dubious quality as a reliable historical source.
Crossing the quiet banks of the Drinus and entering Lower Syrmia with a force of over twenty thousand men, Suetoslaus encountered little to no resistance on his way to aid the Rhoman siege of Bononia further east on the Ister. This may be backed by the fact that much of the eastern Slavs, in fact, did not suffer any retributions during Emperor Samuel's rule nor did they have their ways of life encroached upon. Essentially, nothing much had changed since the time of the Catepanate of Ras for the Slavs east of the Drinus, which explains their lacking responses to both Samuel's and later Surigna's invasions of their country.
Not all were quiet during that time, though, as there are stories of a commoner who had gathered an army and met Suetoslaus Surigna, though not for reasons one might expect. That man was called Spassigous, and had initially gathered a host of two hundred poorly equipped peasants, all of whom offered their services to the invading Croat king. No doubt wishing to exploit the situation to the best of his ability, the cold man demanded the Peasant King and his fighters bend the knee to him and pledge an oath of loyalty to Basilius II who needed all the help he could get at the time. The peasants, naturally, obeyed the order, and Surigna was free to go further with an additional host of troops supposedly led by a man who deemed himself a distant relative of Tseslaus, final Prince of the Serbs from the House of Blastemerus, thought to have gone extinct over forty summers ago.
Surigna wisely decided to bypass the Duchy of Upper Syrmia under Sermon and the White City that was located on the crossroads between Achtum's realm to the east, Stephanus I's kingdom to the north, Sermon's duchy to the northwest and Spassigous' state to the south. There are numerous reasons for this course of action – Surigna likely did not desire to get bogged down capturing a fortress like Basilius II had at Bononia, all the while there was a possibility of the pro-Bulgar duke intervening and catching the Croat-Serb forces off-guard in the process. There was also the fact that the Peasant King may have desired not to burn much of his people's lands down during their liberation campaign.
Town after town, village after village switched their allegiance, and thanks in no small part to the self-proclaimed Serb Prince's rambunctious personality, the Serbian Army soon swelled in size to number thousands of men. Though poorly equipped and trained, they would prove to be crucial in the wars to come. Leaving a part of his army in Prince's makeshift seat of Parniavoro to train the gathered peasantry, Suetoslaus set off to capture the settlements south of Singidunum in order to tie them into Spassigous' realm.
Much time had passed since Suetoslaus' crossing over the Drinus, enough for the Bulgars not caught up in the siege of Bononia to hear of the invasion from the west. A sizable host of the bane of Basilius' reign was gathered to march in Surigna's direction, and the clash between the two armies would come about two moon cycles after Spassigous' royal proclamation, when a nameless Bulgar commander ambushed the Croats during their capture of the lightly fortified settlement of Balba.
The Croat cavalry, the fear and terror of which had been a warning to anyone daring enough to even contemplate invading Trepimerus' descendants' realm since the days of their first king, turned completely worthless in such circumstances, and were it not for an alleged messenger's mad dash across Lower Syrmia to inform the Serb pretendent of the impending attack, Suetoslaus' kingship would likely have been forfeit right then and there. Alas, history had decided against the civilized world that day, for Spassigous' contingent smashed into the besieging Bulgars after a fortnight of hopeful combat, utterly changing the situation on the battlefield in favour of the beleaguered invaders. With the last remnant of resistance on the right bank of the Ister dealth with, Surigna was free to pursue whomever else stood on his path to Bononia without much trouble. With a letter to Sermon demanding his genuflexion, King Suetoslaus marched east to meet with the Rhomans.
Basilius II, on the other hand, had already entered the seventh moon of the protracted siege, and success was not assured at all. Despite having more men, better equipment and supposedly stronger morale, the Rhomans did not even put a dent into the defending Bulgars in the stone fortress. Having warred for much of his rule, the Macedonian had gotten used to both victory and defeat, but the ramifications of the latter at this stage of the war against Samuel would have been disastrous for the heirless king, who spent many of his early days suppressing his opponents for the throne in a desperate attempt to secure it.
Many a negative thought have been said to have burdened the Ruler of the Rhomans at this time, not eased by the additional negative projections of his most trusted generals that came with each passing sun cycle spent in his luxurious tent. His demands of Croat intervention have seemingly fallen on deaf ears, with his entrusted messenger not returning from his trip to the vassalized land over a summer past. His war effort had seemingly run aground, and thoughts of retirement had become a regular occurrence by that point.
The Bulgar camp, though, seemed to have been rejoicing at the time, under the influence of the firm belief that Samuel would come from the south and relieve the few remaining fighters from the unyielding Bononian stronghold. If it came to that, the barbarians would have been able to expel the Rhomans to the Euxine Sea and the Croats back over the Drinus, thus preserving the independence of their nation and their vassals of Doclea, Zachlumia and Tribunia.
Just when the thought of Bulgar triumph had become speculated of as a foregone conclusion, the tide of war had been wrested by the cold wind of the west in the form of the tens of thousands of Croat and Serb cavalrymen, infantrymen and archers who had immediately stationed themselves beneath the impregnable walls of Bononia. It is said that the interior of the fortress had suddenly frozen over, likely a consequence of the brutal, icy king's sheer presence that is thought to have been a regular presence both at court and on the bloody battlefields the Rhoman mail-clad King of the Croats and the Dalmatians frequented. With nowhere left to go, the hungry garrison had surrendered before the hourglass had tipped its particles into the eight moon of the siege.
The tremendous victory at Bononia resulted in one of the most important events for the subsequent history of the Croat kingdom, for the meeting between Basilius and Suetoslaus ended with the Croat king kneeling before the Rhoman emperor just beneath the sturdy walls of the captured fort in what history had since dubbed the Genuflexion on the Ister, an event that would become among the most influential in the next sixty years of the House of Trepimerus' rule over Croatia, and at times, Dalmatia. The foreign policy of Croatia would, in that period, become firmly aligned with the Rhoman realm in many of its expeditions and decisions, the vassal status having been upheld until the Schism between the Greek and Latin Churches that almost tore the Slavic kingdom apart. Basilius II, doubtlessly grateful for his timely intervention, granted Suetoslaus the position of Patrician. Once a prestigious title, it had, up until the glorious Second Crusade in Asia, lost all meaning and importance.
Genuflexion on the Ister (a quite inaccurate modern depiction of the event)
Little else is known of the time period that followed the Genuflexion and the simultaneous fall of Achtum's dukedom at Stephanus I's hands. Some say that Suetoslaus and Spassigous were allowed to return to their respective crown lands in order to secure them against potential Bulgar retribution whilst others believe the two Slavs continued to wage a devastating, vengeful campaign against Samuel in the former lands of Ras and its surrounding mountains and hinterlands. To this day, nobody is able to ascertain whether Basilius the Macedonian was supported by his vassals or not due to the sheer lack of any written word regarding the half a decade of the War of Shadows, as some had dubbed it.
An important fact of note that is believed to have occurred in this dark time of history is not connected to the war against the eastern Slavs itself, but would later prove to be instrumental in its final stages – the marriage alliance between Stephanus Voislaus, heir to the throne of both Zachlumia and Tribunia and Hicella Orseolo, daughter of the tragically fallen Doge of Venice. Believed to have been negotiated between the Slav Duke Drachimir and Pietro's eldest son Giovanni, the soul-searching done by the Orseoli through seeking alliances with other European factions in order to bolster their positions of power seemed a natural progression of events, for the unfinished accomplishments and great deeds of even greater people must be brought to their completion through their descendants that carry their celebrated family name.
The wise choice of expanding his family's influence was mainly aimed at securing the coast and bringing it under Venetian control – the town of Ragusa having been the thorn in Venice's side for too many summers to count. Having suffered much destruction in the decade past thanks to Samuel's brutality, the rich coffers of the Orseoli provided a much needed reinvigoration for the town, as Hicella's incredibly large Venetian-born entourage at Drachimir's court in Diluntum offered enough coin to restore the ancient town to its former glory. Despite formally being under the authority of the Strategus of the Theme of Dalmatia, Ragusans still accepted the financial assistance, furthering Giovanni's political ambitions that would, some forty summers later, result in the total cultural domination of Ragusa by the Most Serene Republic, beginning with the reign of Ottone the Great, his younger brother.
What is certain, however, is that around 1007 or 1008 word came of Guardas' passing, though nobody is sure what exactly did the man in, however an unproven theory of the holy fire claiming the life of the most important man in Croatia, second only to the King himself, is believed to be the most accurate. An odd form of poetic justice too, for Suetoslaus' brutality and even satanic conduct was quickly made a chilling tale out of during the initial, warring period of his reign. This too is the first definite account of Surigna actually being in the country for the first time after his departure all those years ago. Good on him, too, for only the Devil could have the shameless clout to sort out the ensuing chaos in the Slavic realm brought about by the Regent's death the way he did.
Before any more of Surigna's misdeeds and crimes are to be covered, yet another quite important event had occurred following the reestablishment of Rhomanian control of the old Isterian border in the vast majority of its previous state. News of Basilius II, Suetoslaus and Spassigous' successes were far-reaching, erupting not only in the Haemus but the civilized West as well. In spite of Achtum the Shepherd losing control of his land on the left bank of the Tissus River, much of his court successfully escaped the long-feared Hungarian wrath, including his numerous wives, into Rhoman territory, where they successfully sought refuge at their patron Basilius' war camp. What many would deem a certain defeat, Achtum merely regarded as a simple mistake to bounce back from, and despite his name being lost to history for the next fifteen years, his return would be one of those that many historians thereafter would consider a miracle.
In the fertile lowlands of the north, nestled between the Ister and the Savus, Sermon ruled the country of Syrmia. A loyal vassal of Samuel, the follower of the Latin Rite and a man of dubious origins had defiantly refused to surrender his lands neither to the Croats, nor the Rhomans, nor the Hungarians who had his dukedom completely surrounded on all sides. Even after the fall of Singidunum around the time of Surigna's departure for Croatia, the stubborn man of mystery seethed in quiet contemplation in his seat located where one of the greatest Roman cities once stood – Sirmium. Built on the old city's foundations, the new town resembled little of the glory that had shone so brightly on the Haemus in the ancient days, but where light once stood, there is only darkness and regrettable cold in the present times.
Being uncertain of what to do, the Duke of Syrmia demanded his brother Nestongos appear with his entourage in the capital city to discuss the strategy of how to preserve the independence of their statelet, the unfavourable times becoming a heavy burden on the Slav's shoulders. With Nestongos kneeling before Sermon as a sign of the latter's authority, the procession should have been like any other before, yet another choreographed sight to be beheld by the courtiers there. But just as the Duke motioned for his brother to rise with the careful movement of his extended palm, Nestongos' eyes pierced him before the poniard did. One after another, a conservative estimate of fifteen culprits is oft-listed to have deprived the Bulgar's body of his blood in an event that history would call the Crimson Audience from that very day.
It is unknown why Nestongos committed the act, but some say that his pro-Hellenic sympathies combined with the supposed promise of military protection from Suetoslaus or Basilius resulted in the Duchy of Syrmia switching sides some ten years after the establishment of its dead leader's rule. An interesting thing to note, too, is that from the day of the assassination to today, there had formed two distinct political factions within the small realm. According to some, their names had emerged from the colours of the ceremonial clothes worn by each brother during the murder – the Greens represented the pro-Rhoman nobility and the clergy, heavily favouring the Greek Rite of Christendom, whilst the Blues became torchbearers for the Slavic peasantry and petty nobility, desiring complete independence for Syrmia and the following of the Latin Rite, much like their tragically fallen, venerated ruler.
14th century depiction of the Crimson Audience
Regarding the rebellion in Croatia against Surigna, there seems to be even fewer written documents describing what exactly had occurred, and thanks in no small part to the King's meticulous and rather brutal retribution for the perceived crime of treason, only the Lord Himself knows of the animalistic man's misdeeds. Indeed, since those days it is such a rarity to find a Croat with many a thing to say in this world that even the Spartan people and their laconic phrase of old may seem a bard's heartbreaking poem in comparison. Such peoples could not have asked for a better ruler than Suetoslaus.
The death of Guardas left the position of Ban empty, meaning that three Counties were left with vacant seats – Corbavia, Gudesca and Iapudia. In addition, the Regency for young Crown Prince Stephanus also came into question, as there had been no thought given to the idea of succession in case of the Ban's passing and the King's absence. Therefore, the court of the Slav king went into panic mere moments after Surigna's right-hand man's death was discovered. With the Ban's body still warm on its deathbed, it is likely that the three Counties formerly under his rule immediately rebelled, probably taking northern parts of the country such as Pesenta with them. The fierce discontent was, in all honesty, a believably rightful anger of the populace at the King's careless, even monstrous disregard and murder of his brothers. Even ten years after it all, the Croat people had still not forgotten.
Nor did they forget to share in their king's treacherous ways, for some suspect that the Ban was actually poisoned, with the intent of barring the entire Kingdom from Suetoslaus and his army, deposing Stephanus and establishing a longer Regency for Trepimerus, but once more, all this falls under the weight of assumptions, put forth by men from all walks of life trying to share in their opinions of the matter when they have nothing to base their claims on. Fortunately for the creature, the Most Serene Republic of Venice had been experiencing significant turmoil at the time, having had its Doge die in 1006 from a plague, an event that plunged the naval power into an even deeper period of fog and uncertainty and prevented it from intervening on the side of the rebels.
Suetoslaus Surigna was brutal, and swift. With thousands of battle-hardened veterans pouring over the Drinus, nothing could have prevented his unstoppable march toward the sea. Following the Savus upstream, in a fortnights' time he entered Pesenta, and supposedly retaken control of the insurgent County in a single day. The men that rebelled, according to some stories, surrendered their pitchforks and swords immediately upon seeing the massive host of bloodthirsty warriors entering their settlements, begging for forgiveness. The King of the Croats and the Dalmatians did not oblige them, at all. It is believed that every man who knelt before the king and hoped for mercy was given the opposite – hundreds, if not thousands of men had their tongues cut out and one eye torn out from their sockets. A common quote oft-attributed to the violent bastard of a king stated that only the God in the blue heavens above would, from now on, be loath to hear the sacrilegious prayers of theirs.
The three rebelling Counties fell in the following months, and the policy of harsh punishment was pursued tirelessly within the reconquered areas. In turn, the Rebellion of Whispers, as it is called, was drowned in blood without that many lives actually being lost, but the physical trauma endured by those courageous enough to go against the grain would become a permanent scar that would never heal – a reminder for anyone who decides to incite discontent against the rule of the House of Trepimerus in the future, a crime so vile that only Canicarassus and his Bisseni warlords would be able to outmatch over seventy years later.
All those punished by the King were forced to be ordained as either priests or prayers within the countless monasteries scattered across Croat territory, leading to the formation of the Silent Monks. The movement would come to be known for its devoutness, absolute pacifism and disinterest in the internal politicking within the Croat realm, though the most memorable trait of the order was their incredibly scarce usage of speech, instead growing accustomed to visual cues as a means of communicating, leading to their terrific reputation as great listeners. The order, though, was forcibly disbanded almost half a century later following the Schism between the Latin and the Greek Churches after the overthrow of the Drunkard King, certain to have leant too favourably in Constantinople's direction.
The oriental influences could also came to be rooted within the customs and traditions of the Croat people as a whole. While the clothing of the nobility remained simple, flowing and elegant, much like the ones in the Roman Empire and Venice to the country's north, its code of conduct came to resemble a hybrid of sorts – with the act of proscynesis being among the most notable behaviours adopted from Rhomania. The custom called for completely prostrating oneself on the floor before a ruler as a sign of complete and utter submission, essentially denoting that the fate of the person bowing was in the hands of the one that is so venerated. Therefore, it is natural to see why in Suetoslaus' time a special emphasis had been put on the practice, as his iron grip on the throne came to be even tighter following the Rebellion of Whispers.
The act of proscynesis before the King of the Croats (c. 1040s)
The borderlands between the West and the East also experienced much rejoicing, even if the memory of the Rebellion's unimaginably cruel suppression continuously created nightmares for its populace, from the lowest commoners all the way to the highest, most golden nobility. The marriage alliance between Narentania and Croatia turned out to be more than successful, as the initial agreement became fulfilled in less than a decade. The firstborn would come to inherit the entire kingdom one day, whilst the secondborn son would become the inaugural holder of the titles of Narentanian Headman and Duke of the Narenta, as the entire Pagan land on Narenta's right bank would be united with Suetoslaus' realm upon the final Narentan king's demise, as the child would carry the blood of the pirate kings as well as king's blood of Dirzislaus, a claim no other man would be able to challenge.
Four children were known to have been born that also managed to reach adulthood from the marriage of Stephanus II, Crown Prince of Croatia and the nameless Narentanian Princess – Muncimirus II, heir to the throne; Uuonomiro, secondborn, first Headman of Narentania and the Duke of the Narenta; Ieslaua, Princess of Croatia and an opportunity for further alliance-building in the kingdom's future; as well as Sclavianus, the youngest brother and the likely connection between Surigna's dynasty and his bannermen. If many stories from that period are to be believed, each of the royal children seemed to have taken pieces of personality from their grandfather.
Muncimirus supposedly took up the conniving, plotting points the people had suspected Suetoslaus of doing for years. The child seemed to possess surprising amounts of self-control for a Trepimerian descendant, though, as he would never let himself be provoked into acting out by neither of his two brothers nor Ieslaua. A rich laugh and an easy-going smile were his most prominent features, as he tricked his younger siblings into giving him their blankets, apples or clothes whilst giving them nothing in return. The objects mattered little in the end, for it is the symbolism behind those signs that mean everything in the end, as those traits of Muncimirus' would help him in some ways in the wars to come.
Uuonomiro, born a little over a year after his brother, came to be the least sympathetic of the royal siblings, as he grew up to be known as a boy unable to smile. The quietest of the children at royal court by far, his withdrawn, I daresay cold personality granted him no allies nor friends. However, the largest, and doubtlessly the most important dissimilarity between him and his grandfather came in the form of his lack of affection for violence. While Suetoslaus adored hunting before he became King as a discreet way of dispersing the burning blood-lust in his loins, Uuonomiro never showed any signs of a desire for hurting others, preferring to get lost in the books instead, with Nicephorus Uranus' Tactica allegedly growing to be one of his favourites during his childhood. The silent power within him was kept under control during much of his adult life, which many would say saved him in the future as the most able of Stephanus' heirs.
Ieslaua, the only female child of the Crown Prince, inherited Suetoslaus' fondness for exploration, adventure, but most of all – his infamously short temper. Allegedly, the Princess was so feared in the capital of Clissa that no boy was ever brave enough to approach her. Ieslaua's fearsome reputation was additionally helped with the fact that her father and mother scarcely, if ever saw her, as she would oft-climb the steep walls of the fortress on her own, becoming quite an attraction and a beloved sight of sorts for both the nobility and the commoners alike. It would only make sense for such a warrior-like child to be sent where she ended up over twenty summers after, the most suitable environment a rebellious, violent spirit such as her would deem fit.
Sclavianus, the youngest, turned out to be the most fortunate of the siblings, as news came that the future Queen would be unable to bear any more children without the threat of losing hers, as well as the child's life in the process. The worrisome information only resulted in Stephanus and his Narentanian wife spoiling him rotten. None of the potential bad behaviour was ever corrected by either of his parents, while the rewards for any, even a minor good deed were plentiful and boundless. This type of nurturing would let a dangerous trait develop within the young royal child that his grandfather had regularly lost himself within – delusions of grandeur. The older he grew, Sclavianus came to demand more and more from his brothers and his sister, only catching the ire of the arrogant Muncimirus, the duty-bound Uuonomiro and the rebellious Ieslaua.
Muncimirus' petty thefts and trickery were not the only ones occurring in this period, for the Dalmatian lands also had to endure their fair share of plotting and backroom deals that would come to destabilize the realms of Croatia and Dalmatia at a later date. Quite a fortunate development of events, too, for Ottone Orseolo of Venice would later use it perfectly for his campaign of punishment against the barbarian kings in a couple dozen summers' time. Iadera, the most populous and shining of the old Roman cities on the Slavic-controlled Adriatic coast, would become the focal point for much of the dramatic occurrences that would come during the rule of Suetoslaus and his heirs.
The House of Madi, an influential patrician family from Iadera that grew to be one of the most prestigious in Dalmatia during Michael Cresimir II's time, the members of which were no strangers to strategic marriage alliances, as Helena proved after she birthed Dirzislaus and reigned as his Regent after her husband's death. The Queen Mother became so popular, in fact, that her people began calling her Helena the Glorious even during her reign in her son's stead. The marriage, quite wisely, also served to strengthen Madi influence in the Theme of Dalmatia by assuring Dirzislaus' control over it through hereditary right. This policy was heavily pursued for over forty years, but a significant switch had occurred mid-way through Helena's grandson's reign, likely as a reaction to Suetoslaus' rather lax approach toward protecting the Roman cities from Narentanian pirates, who still occassionally plundered the rich harbours and disrupted vital trade networks between Venice, Constantinople and the rest of the civilized Mediterranean. Gregorius Madi, the family patriarch and Suetoslaus' distant cousin would become the centre of the conflict with the cold man of the mountains that would only be brought to its conclusion by the end of the latter's reign.
Around this time, the war against Samuel began heating up once more as the strategically important city of Dyrrachium, despite its alliance through marriage between Agatha and the Bulgar overlord sealed on the eve of the new millennium, officially surrendered to the small Rhoman squadron that had arrived to take the Mediterranean stronghold. Thanks to a treacherous ploy by Ioannes Chryselius, Agatha's father, control of the city peacefully reverted to Basilius, with him granting mercy to the once rebellious populace and their leaders, eager to put the Bulgar Empire to its grave at the nearest possible opportunity. Samuel faced a difficult predicament – with the treacheries in Sirmium and Dyrrachium, his lands became landlocked once more, excluding his vassals, the worst fate that could befall a country at this point in time.
With the situation growing precarious with each rapid Rhoman success, Samuel marched with the remainder of his troops to Ras, Dioclea, Tribunia and Zachlumia in order to force the little statelets into submission while taking their men into his army for the final conflict with Basilius. The Realm of Ras was the first to fall, with the weakly armed garrison of Spassigous offering only symbolic resistance to the frightening invaders, reducing the shortly revived state back to the plains and forests of Lower Syrmia. This is also the final time Spassigous is ever mentioned in historical documentation, a likely sign of his violent or natural death that was followed by one of his countless sons inheriting his lands and swearing fealty to the nearby Strategus, the latter having had to evacuate his seat of Naissus after Samuel's second invasion.
The second to fall was Dioclea, though its story was also one of unseen tragedy. Like one of the finest Greek dramatic works of art from thousands of summers ago, Samuel ended up occupying the small country in a few months' time, later taking its leader, Ioannes Vladimirus, captive. Due to Vladimirus' belated surrender, resistance was still present within certain parts of the Slavic principality, slowing the Bulgars' advance significantly and threatening the success of the entire third act of the war. The misfortunes the Rhoman Emperor had felt all those summers before have finally changed their martyr, it seems, as Samuel's war camp began panicking at the rapidly deteriorating situation.
Fortunately for the Bulgars, though, Theodora Cossara, one of Samuel's many daughters, fell in love with the alluring, idealistic prisoner, no doubt having been charmed by his poems that seemed to roll off his tongue with each sentence uttered. She soon after ended up pleading for mercy for Ioannes Vladimirus and his hand in marriage. Samuel, a good father if nothing else, heeded his daughter's wishes, and from that day, the soul of Theodora came to be a lively one, as if the Sun itself was birthed within her trembling heart, igniting the thousands of stars in the sky with meaning and love no man had ever seen before. The procession was a modest one, reflecting of the simple things and subtleties that would come to beautifully grace the seemingly perfect union before God, a winning turn of events for everybody involved in the struggle for Bulgaria's survival.
With Dioclea poetically subdued and with an alliance between Vladimirus and Samuel forged, the next on the list for defeat were the Zachlumians and Tribunians. Many deem this the moment that the cheers had died down for the ecstatic Bulgars, as the invaders encountered resilient resistance the whole way through the mountainous realms. Some Slavic tribes submitted out of fear, some had given the Rhomans a fight to remember, albeit a hopeless one, and some decided to retreat with Drachimir into the mountains. The disunity found within the united duchies was likely a result of the unfavourable response to the encroaching Orseoli influence, even if it would serve to save them in the end. Despite a hastened advance, there were fears of an attack from the flanks, similar to the one endured against Surigna a decade ago.
Alas, as fate would have it, in spite of increased weariness the large Bulgar army of conquerors was suddenly attacked from the thick forests in the middle of the night. With torches flying everywhere in a scuffle, the Slavs, trained for a few years by the experienced Orseoli men-at-arms, eked out a decisive victory over the barbarians, pushing a large number of enemy troops into a steep, limestone chasm that was close to the place of the initial clash. The Ravine of Vultures, having received its name from the sheer amount of corpses filling the gorge that are allegedly still visited by the hungry, vicious birds even to this day, would later be deemed the Most Serene Republic's Thermopylae by Ottone the Great in one of his numerous correspondences with his Zachlumian cousin and governor all those summers later, and for good reason too, as the victory would open up the opportunity for negotiations between the two warring sides.
In a peace treaty whose place and signatories are sadly buried under the sands of time, Samuel demanded that Drachimir's realm is to remain neutral in the coming conflict, as well as the forbiddance of Rhoman nor Croat troops entering Zachlumia nor Tribunia in order to fight the Bulgars. In turn, Drachimir was granted significant concessions in trading and complete freedom from tax for all of the hardy Duke's ships visiting Dioclea's ports for the following half a century. The guarantee to uphold Drachimir's realm's sovereignty was an important one, as it allowed the Orseoli to use their stellar reputation after the victory at the Ravine to extend their control to all corners of the dukedoms, laying the groundwork for their truly memorable retaking of Venice proper.
During the shaping of Orseoli power on the left bank of the Narenta, Suetoslaus Surigna picked Guardas' successor. The man, though never mentioned in the annals of history before, only known as Bosietiech, was believed to have been one of Stephanus I Dirzislaus' most trustworthy bannermen, oft-offering sage advice to the wise ruler. Despite his relatively advanced age, his description from Ioannes the Deacon's texts makes him out to be a hale and hearty individual, allegedly never succumbing to any form of illnesses nor impediments. Closer in age to Dirzislaus than to most other courtiers, his greying hair became a distinct feature that made the man stick out like a sore thumb in any court proceeding or ceremony that would follow during the period of his assistance to Suetoslaus.
A man of the people just as much as a loyal man of the King, Bosietiech insisted that the building of monasteries on both banks of the Savus River would be a sensible move to make, as a means of extending the influence of Clissa unto the region of Slavonia, a territory that frequently changed its authority peacefully from the royal seat of the Slavs and the seat of the Hungarians at Strigonium. It is believed that the large Latin church in Siscia was built atop the old place of worship that had allegedly been there since the beginning, according to the cryptic words of the locals, right around the time of the Ravine and Samuel's retreat into Macedonia. The Church of the Saint Cross, as it would come to be called, would become important after its elevation to the Diocese of Siscia in 1088 during the reign of Cresimir III, also known as the Crusader.
In addition, Bosietiech had allegedly been the only man who was able to keep Suetoslaus' raging desire for savagery under wraps, acting as a fresh splash of ice water on the burning iron in Surigna's lungs. The two had become so inseparable, in fact, that the period between Guardas' and Suetoslaus' deaths had become known as the Reign of Two, for every capricious decision of the King would come to be amended or stopped entirely by his Ban and vice versa. Incredibly, despite being seemingly polar opposites in terms of personality, they would scarcely, if ever come to blows over an issue they could not find an agreement over. A miraculous turn of events, truly, as Bosietiech could safely be considered the man that kept Croatia and Narentania under control all the way until his death of old age. The old man would, during the latter stages of the Trepimerian dynasty's lifespan, become synonymous with the golden age that had occurred thanks to him and him only, as he successfully balanced the responsibilities and inner workings of the court while bringing much needed innovation into the barbaric realm.
In the meantime, as Bosietiech reformed his country whilst keeping Surigna's whims and follies at bay, Basilius turned his attention to the mountainous centre of the Haemus, intending to bring down the Bulgar peoples once and for all. The mercy shown before, such as the case of Dyrrachium, vanished during the many years of senseless bloodshed, as all pretenses of just warfare came to be buried under the thick cots of rage, just a forgotten footnote in the pages of time. For every Bulgar triumph on the battlefield, Rhomans countered with at least two of their own, but the inhospitable configuration of the terrain proved too high an obstacle to overcome, as the war ground to a halt yet again, with Samuel refusing to meet his foes on open field.
The game of cat and mouse persisted for many a summer, wasted on little else but pondering of the glory days, sardonic thoughts of losing everything that mattered starting to plague both sides, from the lowest common soldiers all the way to the two Emperors. Calling out for help from his northwestern vassal and ally once more, Basilius had hoped to station Croat troops throughout the former Theme of Bulgaria to ease the occupation that would soon follow. Despite a rather hasty reply, no assistance actually came. It seemed as though Basilius II would once again be outsmarted by the weight of his own responsibilities and the heaving rock placed upon his shoulders by years of torment.
The ploy would not last long, unfortunately for the Bulgars. The Rhomans pushed through all the fortified hills and valleys, spilling for too many lives to count, though their superiority in manpower shone through in the end, with Samuel being unable to generate as many willing participants in his war as Basilius was. With his most trusted generals and advisors, including Philipoppolian Governor Nicephorus Xiphias, the Macedonian's large army followed the flow of the foreboding Strymon River for months in pursuit of the remaining barbaric forces. Palisades and fortifications fell one by one with heavy casualties, though Basilius II was absolutely unrelenting in his goal of destroying the western threat to his realm that's been a thorn in his side for so many lost decades.
At the unassuming little settlement of Clidium, things began to look desperate once more for the Rhoman cause, as the palisades refused to fall into their eager hands. Unfortunately for the defenders, the towns close to Clidium did not enjoy the same fate, as fate itself decided to side with Theophylactus Botaneiatus, Strategus of Thessalonica, who captured a large surplus of weapons and supplies that would prove to be vital in the coming battle. The clash itself would not last long, with the Sun believed to have been unable to calm its final rays before the dried grass came to be rejuvenated with Slavic blood.
The Key of the Haemus, as the place is always called afterwards, would forever remain the place of unforeseen crimes against morality and decency, a haunted little town that came to be abandoned years ago as the last, symbolic sign of the Rhoman Empire's true height, though one achieved in needless violence and brutality. Following the battle and the deaths of over thirty thousand Bulgars, the remaining contingent of about fifteen thousand fighters that surrendered were subject to torture that would become among the most infamous cases of the abuse of power over unarmed prisoners of war in history. It seemed as though Surigna had his dirty part to play even in the conduct of the one of the most powerful empires of the world at that time.
The Rhomans plow through Bulgarian lines at Clidium, c. 1014
The five-and-ten thousand prisoners all had both their eyes gouged out in gruesome, though traditional Rhoman manner, as it was customary to do with defeated foes on both the battlefield and in court. Only one hundred and fifty men were spared in a sense, with them being allowed to keep one of their eyes to guide their friends back to their homelands in what came to be called the Blind March. The torture did not end for the Bulgars, though, as the Rhoman armies forced the blinded men to walk in appalling conditions throughout their lands all the way to the Ister before crossing into the unknown lands.
Emperor Samuel, after seeing the condition his men were in after Basilius II's treatment, died of an ailment of the heart – an expected reaction at such a tragic sight, though one that would be all the more lethal to the Bulgarian nation he had protected for almost twenty summers. The Rhoman Emperor, having taken an example from the book of Suetoslaus Surigna, had this significant mistake forever marked in the archives, being labelled as the violet Bulgar-Slayer. Despite sullying his reputation, the sinister nickname, with all its connotations, crushed the Bulgarian morale utterly and completely, with the rebellious peoples never staging a successful, damaging insurgency against the Rhomans ever since.
The land nestled on the left bank of the Ister and the Euxine Sea in the east, beneath the slopes of the Sarmatian Mountains known only as Alutania, where Achtum and members of his court that had retreated to after the fall of his dukedom. The wealthy shepherd, hoping to foster better relations with the Rhomans due to his following of the Greek Rite, the Turk worked intensely on securing the loyalty of his arrivals, in spite of their recent animosities with the Macedonian. Surprisingly enough, Achtum turned out to be quite successful in this endeavour, creating a harmonious, syncretic relationship between the blinded Bulgars, the Turkic Bissenians and the Latin-speaking peoples known only as the Strangers, a state of affairs that would save his Land of the Sightless from certain doom many years later.
With the dead piled atop each other in a sight even the Devil himself would deem revolting, Ban Bosietiech and thousands of his Croats entered the Key. Many later Rhoman texts derisively accused the Slav of intentionally arriving late due to the perceived uncertainty of the political and military situation, even saying that he was willing to bend the knee to Samuel if push came to shove, while others believe the advancing armies were slowed by the horrid droughts that plagued the plains of Moesia that year. Unfortunately, an apple does not fall far from the tree, and it is very likely that the mistake was quite intentional, as Bosietiech would prove himself to be as much of a schemer, if not a superior one than his King.
The new Ban of Croatia and Headman of the Three Counties was far from being the only one to enjoy deliberate conspiracies and intrigues, as the nigh unwavering remnants of the Bulgar nation were plunged into a destructive civil war. Different claimants to late Samuel's throne with different ideas of how to approach the issue of continued resistance against Rhomania emerged, adding even more years to the struggle of pacifying the Haemus by the Emperor in Constantinople. For two years, war had raged in what used to be the vast expanse of the Bulgar Empire, though any semblance of resistance in the rebelling areas was put down with force, with the practice showing its finest efficiency upon Dioclea and Ras switching their allegiances during the civil war once more. With the infighting between the Slavic realms, any hopes of the House of Cometopuli's resurgence were strangled on their deathbed, marking the official end of Basilius' war in the Haemus.
Few years after the odd quietness that befell the mountainous peninsula, the news of an important event were finally received, one that would seal the downward spiral of of the Croat Kingdom that would become most evident in the coming decades. In the beautiful city of Iadera, in a sun-bleached church right next to the diamond-like Adriatic kissing the idyllic simpleties of the scene, an eternal vow of faith and love was taken between Trepimerus, the Cold Man's younger son who had mostly been uncovered during this time of history, and Claudia Madi, eldest daughter of Gregorius' younger brother Dobrogna. In order to unite the Realms of Dalmatia and Croatia even further, Surigna and Gregorius Madi reached an agreement pertaining to the important matter of the military and political protection of the Theme of Dalmatia under Croat yoke.
Many assume that the younger son of Surigna came to be a resentful, bitter creature, led by the burning desire to prove his mettle against his eldest brother who seemed to have received the most amount of love and affection from both the Queen and the King. Seething jealousy infested the young man's behaviour, and as the Trepimerian heirs grew older, Trepimerus began to plan his own ascent to power, one that inadvertently would result in ever-increasing hostilities between the uncle and the four children throughout the following years. It seems as though Surigna's misfortune regarding the well-being of family would continue on, stronger than ever, with his sons and grandchildren coming to blows and destabilizing their barbaric realm through their vain delusions.
On the surface, the reasoning seemed quite obvious, though both sides had many underlying motives for uniting the two noble houses once more, after three generations. Such kind of backroom deals would at a later time result in an even more confusing situation that was known to be the mark of Slavic blood for many summers before, ever since their forceful integration into Heraclius' lands and the destabilization of Rhoman civilization at their filth-ridden hands.
The wedding of Claudia Madi and Trepimerus (c. 1018)
The seeds of discord were sowed with these actions, as over the final years of Suetoslaus' reign the numerous factions at court would begin to openly show their animosities towards each other, pulling the Realm of the Croats into yet another uncertain time that could prove fatal, quite similarly to the Cold Man of the Mountains' early days. As if fate itself abandoned the Slavic cause, any and all chances of salvation had begun to disappear as the Trepimerian children grew distant from each other, pursuant of their own goals and beliefs that would come to clash with each other in increasingly unpleasant, even violent ways.
