Empress Agnès of Francia, 1325-1348 AD

(Previously on Royal Dispatch.)

This particular ruler story is taking longer than usual because Agnès is so long-lived—likely longer than the typical Thouars ruler, who mostly died in their mid-60s. I’m 67, which is just shy of the record high age of 68 held by King Jacques. But due to my Amazonian trait and the clean living afforded by my Learning lifestyle, I have a variety of health bonuses.

All of which is why I took such an interest in the upbringing of my grand-heir Hélie, as it would not be unprecedented for me to outlive my direct heir and son Guiges. The latter is a healthy 45 years of age, but still.

After the usual quick claim fabrication, I conquer the independent county of Szatmár, which finally allows for the creation of the kingdom of Hungary under my rule. I already hold about half the kingdom’s lands, and one count immediately bends the knee. But the rest will have to be brought into line.

During that war I also managed to complete the Learning Lifestyle tree o’ perks, which is not easy to do over the course of one ruler lifetime. I decide to spend my remaining time on Stewardship, which will help keep the gold flowing if nothing else.

I bribe the grand prince of Nyitra—one of the Hungarian duchies—into becoming my vassal. The rest of the de jure Hungarian lordlings can’t get past our differences in culture and religion.

From south to north, we see a few Hungarian counties controlled by the count of Zaránd, another few by the count of Beszterce, the wee duchy of Transcarpathia, and an intrusion into Hungarian space by the bloated double-duchy of Lesser Poland, which, what a sad prefix for your realm. Welp, let’s attack ‘em all.

The four-front war kicks off just in time for my husband Nicolas to die.

Nicolas was a good man I suppose, but in fact he was never “there,” since he inherited some counties of his own years ago and disappeared from court. Oh well! Since I’m not looking for children nor alliances, I marry a lowbjörn Norse guy named Sigrbjörn, who’s a smart-looking wooly 47-year-old with high stewardship skill. He can help keep the books around here.

For the Hungarian wars, I take on the little folks first, letting Lesser Poland feel all big and scary by rampaging around the north. After a few engagements, my men capture the count of Zaránd, ending the first conflict in my favor.

Annoyingly enough, Beszterce and Transcarpathia both prove to be heavily fortified, and their smaller armies harry my siegers relentlessly. I actually have lesser trouble with Lesser Poland, whose armies I am able to send packing out of my territory while that realm struggles through another unrelated war with Actual Poland. Meanwhile I become the target of a Muwalladi jihad for the island of Mallorca. I send my Knights Templar down there on holiday.

Through sheer force of numbers and tolerance for casualties I finally overcome Transcarpathian resistance just as Lesser Poland reconstitutes a decent force to challenge my sieges. I manage to fend them off while also chasing down the last of the Besztercian armies, and sieging the latter’s capital. Beszterce finally knuckles under.

Declining to land on knight-infested Mallorca, the Muwalladis instead assault the Spanish mainland at Barcelona. I call up the unmustered half of the imperial armies in surrounding counties to properly greet them. Back east, after a couple of their castles crack open, Lesser Poland capitulates.

After a few feints, I lose patience with the mini-jihad in Spain and summon the full force of my army there to sweep the invaders out of continental Europe. And so, finally after several years: peace. I’m 74 and still feelin’ fine! To further insure the imperial line of succession, I take over the education of my great-grandson (and great-grandheir) Guiges, himself 4 years old. He’s no genius, but we’ll see how his siblings turn out.

But now that peace is upon me … what to do? I’ve taken all of Hungary save one county controlled by what’s left of the Byzantine Empire. I could defeat them, but seems like a costly war for one piece of land. Instead I turn my eye next on the neighboring kingdom of Moldavia. First there a few independent duchies that hold de jure Moldavian territory, so I’ll start with them to get the ball rolling. I need 18 counties to constitute the Carpathian Empire, so unless I’m actually immortal that will be left to the next Thouarses.

For my 75th birthday diamond jubilee, let’s check out how I look.

Impressive stats all around. A 51 in Learning makes me arguably one of the most edumucated folks in the world, and the other numbers are all excellent too. And my health is still Fine! Also pleased to see that Sigrbjörn trimmed his beard.

While the Moldavian stuff is processing, I figure I may as well take over the other islands of Mallorca—party capital Ibiza and the wee Minorca—from their current Muwalladi landlords. Ibiza collapses immediately, while the off-island lords of Minorca prove a little more resistant. Some minor vassal also inherits some land across the channel in Africa, resulting in me becoming the primary target of another low-key jihad. That gets fended off as a matter of course, and gaining back those islands allows me to create the kingdom of Valencia. Back over Moldavia way, my patriarch manages to fabricate a claim on the independent duchy of Halych.

So a couple relaxing wars in the east to get my territory snugly set against the current borders of Moldavia’s extant kingdom. This time it’s war versus the grand principalities (aka duchies) of Yedisan and the aforementioned Halych. But check out the guy in charge of the latter.

Dude is one of those perpetually naked Adamites and he’s missing an arm, forcing everyone to view his nubbin directly at all times. If that doesn’t grab you, his wife has both syphilis and leprosy, plus she’s a flagellant and a torturer. A real party couple.

After a few of the usual slaughterous battles, my armies capture the naked grand prince at his capital.

Nobody touch him! For your own safety. Really calls into question whether this hostage is truly “valuable.” Ends that war in my favor anyway. Yedisan follows them into defeat right after, so a nice quick gain.

Here’s what’s left of Moldavia, quavering on the edge of a blue French tsunami.

I need seven more Moldavian counties to usurp that kingdom title. Normally I’d never start such a project when I’m this old, but I’m 79 and still Fine, so why not. I’m so obscenely rich at this point the expenses don’t mean much.

I’m contemplating whether I should start doing holy wars in Africa just to pass the time. My patriarch manages to clinch a claim on the whole Moldavian duchy of Bukovina, which gets me halfway to a war-worthy casus belli. We begin fabricating in the eponymous home duchy of Moldavia as well. Get enough claims going there and it’s go time (for war).

In the middle of this pops up one of these notifications that my longtime rival (who I didn’t know existed) wants to bury the hatchet.

Sure, let’s do that, whoever you are.

Fabricating more of these Moldavian claims is slow going, and I notice my health has finally ticked down to “Poor” at 82 years of age. One of my Learning perks should alert me within a year when I’m going to die of natural causes, so may as well keep going with the evil legal stuff until I absolutely have to make war to pursue claims before death.

However!

Guess I was looking in the wrong direction for the reaper. Oh well. Next husband please! Can’t imagine this will be a long marriage so I shack up with the guy featuring the highest Learning I can land without being encumbered by some bothersome alliance, a charming but genetically fragile Andalusian named Siddray Adhavid.

I decide to spend several years without starting any more wars while attempting to fast-track this Moldavian fabrication scheme, as I don’t want to be distracted or delayed by some other conflict. Timing will be critical, since if I die before pressing all these fabricated claims, they don’t get passed along to my heir.

In the fullness of time, my patriarch successfully finagles a number of claims in the south of Moldavia worth pursuing at a throw. They’re allied to the kingdom of Vladimir to the north, who will provide some distraction but not a threat.

Two sieges and one battle later, I capture the Moldavian heir on the field, and the warscore jumps to 94%. I mop up their remaining army in a follow-up engagement, and it’s all over. The Moldavian crown is mine—it’s my ninth kingdom title! A couple holdouts refuse vassalage, but after a moment to observe tens of thousands of imperial troops at their door, they’ll reconsider.

So, I’m 88 years old, still in poor health but not so’s you’d notice. And I’m 9 counties away from forming the Carpathian Empire. The Moldavian holdouts will only get me 6 up, so I begin fabricating claims on the 3-county principality of Oltenia. Seems highly unlikely I’ll live long enough to clinch it … unless???

By combining a bribe with including a religious exemption in their feudal contract, I bring the independent duchy of Kiev into the fold. Peacefully.

I notice there’s a weird gerrymandered independent duchy that’s part of Moldavia sticking off to the north—Pinsk. The baby prince in charge won’t agree to be my vassal because his weird location makes him consider himself too remote from my realm.

Not too remote for my armies though. I send in the boys to set the baby prince straight. But sadly, something happens which I’ve been anticipating for awhile—one of my children dies.

Payen dies of old age at 64, which is about right for the typical Thouars life expectancy. I myself am 89 and still kicking, but the longer I live, the more likely my kids will be to pre-decease me.

But maybe not!

I’ve become Infirm, which has major trait and health penalties and is usually the first step in circling the drain, or plunging headlong down it. Speaking of which, my oldest son Ebbon is the next to die, this time from wounds suffered in battle. He was my heir Guiges’ twin and would have been first in the succession as Emperor upon my death. But it wouldn’t have mattered, as it turns out.

And then, finally!!!!

Look, Agnès has had a very good run, but it’s time to let go! I decide to run out the clock on this mortal coil, starting no more wars and letting my gold pile rise higher to fund what could be a fraught succession struggle.

But before I die, you know what haven’t enjoyed in a long time? Incest, that’s what.

My 41-year-old grandson Simon attempts to seduce me. Thank you, Simon, for making this one of my last experiences of life.

Speaking of which!

Agnès was arguably the most successful Thouars ruler to date. Here’s hoping Guides can keep it all together!

Next: My Own Private Excellence.