[i:a404b07bbe] 28 March, In the Year of our Lord 1242:

More tidings from the west. The Swedes have burned Vilnius and are most assuredly heading towards My Beloved Pskov. Already Evgeny has levied the peasants into a semblance of an army, yet he does not seem very confident in their abilities. Me being only 22, and a woman, I am afraid that I cannot advise my Lord in the manner that a Boyarina should. After Vespers last night, he confided in me that he should have sent the household east to Novgorod weeks ago, and that he was so very sorry to have kept me near him for his own base reasons. In truth, I am not altogether certain that he should have sent us away. If nothing else, is not providing a passionate retreat in the Sanctity of the Marriage Bed a duty and privilege of a Boyarina? He thinks not. He thinks that it is his duty to keep me sheltered and held up above all else. Sometimes I think he holds my mortal beauty higher than the Lord. I hope that the Lord will not rebuke him too soundly for such Blasphemy. One could only hope tha... [/i:a404b07bbe]

[i:7bd03b9e9f] 29 March, In the Year of Our Lord 1242:

The Swedes have arrived. I do not know if this will be my final entry or not. Evgeny is out with the levy in a valiant defense of Mother Russia and the Holy Relics of Our Lord. Already the day grows late. From my tower perch I can see the battle out on the plains, but I cannot see who the Lord favours. Would that I had the knowledge and skill to command armies in my service, but alas a mere Boyarina's army are the cleaning staff, the cooks, and all others who maintain My Lord's household.

[/i:7bd03b9e9f]

[i:be8181f349] 30 March, 1242 [/i:be8181f349]

The people of Pskov woke to a chilling site. One a low laying hill about a mile out from the walls of the city, the saw erected the camp of the Teutons. Arrayed in front of the camp in battle order stood the knights themselves. Nearly twelve-thousand men-at-arms bearing the sinister yellow and black livery of the order shone in the pale sun. They were deployed in the three groups, or battles, typical of warfare of the day. In the vanguard came heavy horsemen riding stout destriers. The steam issuing from their mount's mouths looking all the more ghastly when coupled with the blackened chainmail and great helm worn by the knights. All in all, to the Russians, they looked like something out of a nightmare. For many of them, it would be a short lived nightmare.

Like a crashing wave, the army engulfed the little monastic city. Boyar Evgeny and his serf levy, though fighting valiantly, stood no chance at all. Most of the Boyar's household, including the Boyarina Eveshka, had escaped the night before and were riding north east for Novgorod and safety. They survived this day. Not so the unfortunate souls of non-noble birth. The barbarous Swedes put most to the sword, sacked the monastery, and burned the Boyar's palace. The surviving peasants were chained to one another and cataloged. Those who were of value back home, were sent to west. Those whoe were usable immediately for the Teutonic Overlords, were treated worse than they were before by Boyar Evgeny. Those who were of no use were slaughtered.

Boyarina Eveshka and her household rode further east on their sleighs for several days. By the evening of April 4th they had reached the frozen shores of Lake Peipus. Most of them felt that the Teutons would stay longer in Pskov. They, Eveshka included, felt that Pskov was what they wanted, it being such an important and enlightened city. They would find out how wrong they were the next morning. The Teutonic Order had no desire to stop at Pskov, a backwards and relatively inconsequential place in their estimation. They wanted Novgorod. Unknown to the Boyarina, the Swedish knights of the Teutonic Order were pressing hard on her tail. It would be only hours before they overtook her. The quickest way to Novgorod was right across the frozen lake. That was the course Boyarina Eveshka chose. So too did the Swedes.


to be continued.

[i:d020faa388] 5th April, 1242, 6:30 AM [/i:d020faa388]

The late winter snows drifted across the frozen surface of the lake. To the east the sky painted a beautiful purple portrait. Shimmering pastels lined the under sides of the wispy clouds floating high above. All in all it promised to be a postcard perfect day.

The small caravan of refugees began to stir for the beginning of two more days of travel. Without much thought given to creature comforts, they packed their things and began to move with sleighbells jingling. They had traveled maybe a mile across the lake when they first spotted riders behind them coming out of the woods. The Swedes had arrived again.
With a stern word of inspiration, Eveshka coaxed the teamsters to push their teams harder. The Swedes still gained on her.

This pursuit went on until nearly noon when riders appeared ahead of them as well. The Swedes were now about 1,000 yards behind the Boyarina's party. They could only assume that the host in front of them were the Novogorodians. Eveshka's party would reach their lines slightly before the Swedes. The host parted briefly to let her sleds through. Prince Alexander himself saluted her with a flourish of his hand and then began barking orders. The shields were put together to form a wall upon which the Novgorodians bashed their weapons. Prince Nevsky kept his mounted men-at-arms behind the shield wall. The Swedes hit the wall head on with a blood curtling wail. An allmighty crash resounded across the ice field as armored men slammed into armored men. Then came the hysteric screams and plaintive cries of the dying.

The Russian frontline buckled under the mounted onslaught of the Teutonic Knights who kept a tight formation. They were a veritable moving rampart on horseback. As the Russians gave ground in the center, their reserves prolonged to form wings that greatly overlapped the Teutons. These wings engulfed the Swedes who continued to press on to what they thought was certain victory. Suddenly the Russian center broke in two, the Swedes had cut their lines. Victory would have been assured them had it not been for the several thousand strong presence of the Russian cavalry. Just as quickly as the Swedes felt victory, so too did the dread reality of their certain defeat dawn upon them.

With the unstoppable force of the incoming tide, the Russian horse swept over the Knights of the Teutonic Order. The ice ran red with the blood of the dead and dying. Pools of it steamed up in the frigid mid afternoon sun. The Swedes made a break for the north, concentrating all of their strength against the thin right of the Russian lines. Whether through force of arms, or by design, the Russians broke there giving the Swedes an avenue of escape. They rode like demons from Hell towards the north west shore of the lake. The Russian horse split into two groups. Unluckily for the Swedes, the shore towards which they ran was open water. Their host wheeled around to face the avenging Novgorodians. They had but one choice, defeat the Russians. There would be no escape.

Once again the valiant Teutonic Knights charged the Russians. This time however the Russian horse was not as strong as it had split up into two groups. The Swedes began to cut their way through the advanced lines of the Russians. It almost seemed as if they would make it through to freedom. Yet again, it was denied them. The infantry came up in support of the cavalry and shored up their lines. The Teutons were stopped dead in their tracks. From their left came the other half of the Russian horse. They slammed into the exposed left flank of the Swedes and rolled up it. Those who were once fearless Knights turned to screaming children as their lines broke and they routed away. Terror gripped them as they looked for any means of escape. They headed back towads the north western shore of the lake. The din of men's shouts was suddenly drowned out by ear splitting cracks. The frozen lake was coming to life beneath the feet of the Swedes. Thousands of Teutonic Knights plumetted into the icy depths of Lake Peipus along with a few hundred of the pursuing Russians who got too close. With that, the battle was over. The Novgorodian army withdrew to the safety of the east side of the lake, Eveshka and her party in tow.

[i:3ee948ea3a] 17th April, 1242

We have recently departed Novgorod with a small troop of Prince Aleksandr's horsemen. We are camped at the spot we stopped on our flight from Pskov. My heart trembles to think what has become of my beloved city.

Strange things sightings have been made of odd creatures moving among the trees. Surely they are tricks of the early evening light playing on our minds. I am not the only one to have seen them however. Were it only me, I would assume that these phantoms are the results of a sleep deprived mind overcome with the stresses of the past few weeks. The Lord must be angry with us for allowing such angry portents to occur. [/i:3ee948ea3a]