A good while ago I stumbled across a fascinating historical account. It brought the Reader to the closing days of the reign of King Andrew II of Hungary, reviving turbulent times in thirteenth-century Europe.204Please respect copyright.PENANAylDWLKEHDN
Pest set the stage for a heartbreaking tragedy, involving betrayal, suicide and woesome vengeance along the banks of the Danube. The vibrant cluster of towns in said region suffered increasingly from Mongol raids at the time of King Andrew II, which pressed the royal House to seek military aid from less Christian warriors. In spite of the formidable Hungarian nobility, who comprised predominantly Magyar clans, Easterlings were employed to fend off the barbarian hordes; the Kunok peoples in particular, would serve most diligently in doing battle against Mongol forces. Tragedy has it, that a foremost chief - or khan - of the Kunok, found himself betrayed in the year 1241.204Please respect copyright.PENANA8jXoQlV1rA
Koten, as is the name he went by, had brought the fight to the eastern borders a good number of times. Defending the Hungarian realm time-and-again, public opinion took a turn for the worse when the ranks of Mongol cavalry revealed enslaved Kunok clansmen. They had been given the choice between life in servitude and summary execution, where many opted for the former. The townsfolk of Pest were ignorant of these practices, and saw little difference betwixt their Kunok protectors and their enslaved cousins who rode alongside the Invader. An incident in the year 1241 serves as the tragic end of initial Kunok settlement on the Hungarian plain, as well as the backbone of the ensuing story.
The matter darkens with the entry of Hungarian noblemen, or ispánok. Knights who had served King Andrew II reluctantly, bathing in the granted liberties of the royal Golden Bull charter - somewhat similar to King John of England's Magna Carta Libertatum -, had grown envious of the Kunok clans and the favours they enjoyed from the royal court. 'Twas 1241, on the eve of Mongol conquest, wherein malignant nobles made their way to the settlement of Pest with the intent of slaying Koten and his kin. A warmongered khan, Koten outwitted the ispánok and committed suicide. In a fit of shameful display, the nobles proceeded to dismember and behead the resting remains of Koten and his consorts.
Maddened by grief and mettle, the Kunok rode out and put many-a-man to the sword. Pest and its surrounding hamlets met a deadly prelude to Mongol supremacy in the days following Koten's demise. In the wake of a breakneck migration, the Kunok left a trail of human wreckage. Smouldering hovels and trampled innocents were added to the Kunok legacy of ruthless warfare and swords-for-hire. 'Tis in the midst of this enthropy where the plot is forged: a son and daughter of Koten's, twins as they are, combine the refined tactics of their residential Hungarian Court to avenge their fallen father. In a Biblical fall-from-grace, they resort to a diabolical solution to exact their revenge.
As a seasoned Reader would suspect by now, the plot steers unto known waters of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray and Christopher Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. Employing the demon Berith, the twins seek unholy retribution.204Please respect copyright.PENANAw7AXWJi9yZ
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