Theodora Dejanovic Balsha of Zeta
A Historical Character from My Novel about the Balsha Family of Early Montenegro
In my previous post, I wrote about the history of the southern Balkan region in the years of 1300-1450. This was the time of Skanderbeg and the early Ottoman Empire. But just before Skanderbeg, the Kingdom of Serbia had expanded under the rule of “Dushan the Mighty,” and then it had broken apart into small regional principalities after his untimely death at the age of 47. His son Stefan Uros did not have the political and military support to hold it all together, and Dushan’s former supporters went their own way.
Out of this history, I think there can be an interesting story. Today, I want to show you a few things I am trying to do with the story of the Balsha family.
The Main Idea
When I first started thinking about this story, I came up with this “elevator pitch” about the Balsha family. The Balsha family initially supported Emperor Dushan, but they didn’t support his son Stefan Uros, and they tried to establish power for themselves.
Here is my story idea:
With the death of Serbian Emperor “Dushan the Mighty,” the unified empire of Serbia and the general sense of law and order, which were created in the early 1300s, fell apart, and the Balsha brothers of Zeta (in the ancient Roman region of Dioclea and the modern country of Montenegro) had a chance to expand their family’s territory and create their own family legacy.
Theodora Dejanovic - Zarko - Balsha
There were three brothers and a sister in the Balsha family. The two oldest brothers married the daughters of other regional leaders. The oldest brother married the daughter of Vukasin Mrnjavcevic, who became the King of Serbia for a while. The middle brother married Theodora, the daughter of Dejan Dragas, who was another influential ruler in eastern Macedonia. Theodora was actually the niece of Emperor Dushan the Mighty - her mother was Dushan’s sister.
Theodora first married another regional leader in Zeta named Zarko. Wikipedia says that Zarko died “under unclear circumstances,” and Theodora soon became married to the middle Balsha brother Durad, who took over Zarko’s territory in Zeta. During this time, Theodora also had a son named Mrksa.
This history gives me a lot to play with as a novelist. Specifically…
There is possible foul play (a murder) between Durad Balsha and Zarko that shows the ambition and the ruthlessness of the Balsha brothers. If Zarko was politically aligned to Emperor Dushan, the Balsha brothers undermine that old regime, and they use violence to become the new regional rulers.
There is a possible love story between Durad Balsha and Theodora. After murdering Zarko, Durad could have taken pity on Theodora, and he could have married her to take her property. Doing this would align him with the Dejan Dragas family, and it would have shown his care for a widow. This story could be spun into a positive “married into wealth” story, if people didn’t know that Zarko was murdered.
Or, perhaps the love happened first. Perhaps Durad fell in love with a married woman, and they conspired against Zarko together.
There is also the identity of little Mrksa. Who is the father? Did Durad adopt Zarko’s son, or was Theodora carrying Durad’s child all along? Perhaps her pregnancy necessitated the murder. This approach to the story provides the opportunity for scandal, and I play with this idea below.
A Beginning - Here is how I first started the story:
Theodora was thankful for the spring sunshine and the sea breeze and the chance to gather a few flowers outside her courtyard. Her eyes gazed freely around the open square and at the flower cart ahead.
“Lulie, you have such lovely flowers today. Vera, look at how she has organized these bouquets. They are all so colorful. I love this time of year.”
Vera picked up a red rose with both hands, she buried her sun-tanned nose in it, and she took a deep, long sniff. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she hummed a summer song she remembered from childhood. Theodora smiled at her but quickly turned her attention back to Lulie.
“Are they all from your garden?”
“No, when I come up here, I collect flowers from my aunt’s family.”
“Well, you tell your aunt that she does a lovely job of raising flowers.”
Vera put the rose back, and she picked up the wooden bucket and bundle of wrapped cheese she had set down. “I’m going to leave these with Selvejca before a fly lands in the milk.”
“Let me try the pink ones today,” Theodora said.
“Lady, I would not even sell a worm-infested apple to you.”
Little Merksa tugged at his mother’s dress, and Theodora turned around to find the voice behind her. An old peasant woman, dressed in a tattered gray overcoat, as if out of a book of Serbian folklore, leaned on her walking stick across the road. She pointed a long, crooked finger towards Theodora. “Lady, you dishonor the memory of your deceased husband.”
“I’m very sorry…” Theodora said, and she stretched her arm out to return the pink rose. She could feel her face turning red and hot, and she knew she was squeezing her lips together. It was a look Lulie had unfortunately become familiar with.
“No, that’s okay. You keep it,” Lulie said.
“Lady, you stray from the nobility of your royal Nemanjic family. Perhaps you don’t remember who you are.”
Theodora reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin. “No, here. Have this,” she said, and she gave Lulie the coin. She picked up her son, and she covered herself and him with her long, embroidered veil. She looked around the square, hoping to see Vera, and she began to walk away quickly up the stone-paved road.
The woman followed behind her. She was swift-footed for her age. “How is it possible that you remarried and had a child in less than a year?”
“You stop, and leave me alone.”
“Who would marry a widow with a such a burden – even one as noble as you – if it were not for Zarko’s inheritance, and for the fact that the child was already his.”
Theodora motioned with her bouquet in hand, saying, “Go away. Leave me alone.” But just as she finished speaking, the pink flowers broke out of their bundle, and they fell to the ground. Her face and shoulders sank inside her body, and she stood in place, pondering whether she should pick them up or continue on her path.
“Lady, you disrespect your mother’s bloodline. Your uncle Dushan –” she stopped at the mention of Dushan’s name, crossed herself, and whispered “may the holy emperor rest in peace.” “He would roll over in his grave if he knew what you had done. He would have cast you out of Zeta, and he would have sold you to the Ottoman Sultan. But even the Sultan wouldn’t take an unchaste woman like you.”
Commentary on the Fist Scene
That first scene was very fun to imagine. I really like the idea that there are rumors about Theodora and that someone is confronting her. It sets the stage for how she is going to respond.
Unfortunately, the writing in that scene is not very good. The perspective shifts too many times, and there is no central point of view from a single character who is telling the story. The description is all over the place, and it bounces from one character to another.
There also isn’t any interiority. You don’t hear any of the character’s thoughts or feelings. It is all superficial description of what is happening.
A Different First Scene
Since I was having trouble with the first scene, I thought I would push the story forward to a little later in the day, and I described the scene through the use of dialog. Here is what I wrote:
Durad Balsha watched as his wife, Countess Theodora, stepped through the front gate and slammed the metal door behind her. The gate shook, and courtyard laborers looked up from their work. Durad noticed that her veil was not centered on her head and that she looked red and sweaty in the face. She was carrying their son, Merksa. His head was buried in her chest, and Theodora had wrapped both arms around him. She walked towards the entryway of the house, and Durad rushed to cut her off.
“What happened? Where were you?” Durad demanded.
“She knew everything about me, Durad,” Theodora said. “My mother – my uncle Dushan – even little Merksa.”
“Were you alone?” Durad asked.
“I only stepped out to get some fruit and flowers from Lulie’s flower stand.”
“You didn’t take your lady Vera with you?”
“Vera was with me,” she said, “but she took the milk and cheese to Selvejca.”
Durad stretched out his arms and made a point to look all around the courtyard. “Well, where is Vera now?”
“As soon as Vera left, the babbling peasant woman appeared behind me. I didn’t hear her at first, but Merksa saw her. He is starting to recognize her, Durad! He saw her, and he tugged at my dress to get my attention.”
“Did she approach you?” Durad asked.
“No. But I wanted to buy some flowers. She kept talking about my mother and uncle Dushan and the Nemanjic dynasty, and I stumbled to take out coin to pay for the flowers.”
“I don’t see any flowers,” he said.
“I dropped them when I picked up Merksa, and I tried to get away.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I only wanted some flowers,” she said. “Can I not even step out of my courtyard any more?” She walked towards the house again, and she bumped Durad’s shoulder as she passed by. He watched her pass through the entryway and close the door without looking back.
Durad heard the familiar metal screech of the front gate again. He turned around and saw Vera.
Durad rushed to confront her. “Where were you?” He demanded.
“I was with Lady Theodora.” She said, her voice confused and looking around.
“It looks like you left her alone with those wretched women again. Where did you go?”
“She was looking at flowers, and I delivered the milk and cheese to Selvejca.”
“The milk and cheese! Did I ask you to give away my milk and cheese?” Vera didn’t say anything, and Durad noticed that workers had now gathered around him.
“Your duty was to protect and accompany the Countess,” he said raising his voice, “not to run your own little errands. What are you doing with my milk and cheese?”
“Sir,” one the men spoke up, “Selvejca is very old and very poor, and Zarko never left her go without.”
“Zarko is not here any more,” Durad snapped at him.
He turned back to face Vera. “Don’t give away my things,” he said, finger pointed. Vera continued to look down. Durad raised his head as if an idea suddenly struck him. “Maybe you aren’t giving away my alms. Maybe you are selling them. Is that what you are doing?” He prodded Vera on the shoulder. “Is that what you are doing? Are you taking alms from me and selling it down the road?”
Vera did not respond.
Durad continued nevertheless. “Do I ever get any of that money, or do you keep it all for yourself?” His eyes opened wider this time, and he looked to the heavens. “I see what you are doing now.” He shook his head in disbelief. He looked at the men, and he chuckled at himself. “How long have you been stealing from me like this?”
“It is only alms, sir,” Vera said, and she slipped by.
Commentary on the New Scene
I like this scene a lot because it has a clear point of view from Durad’s perspective. The whole scene is presented as he sees is, and we can connect with his thinking and his feelings. This revision helped me create a central point of focus, which was Durad’s point of view.
But I also don’t like that I shifted the point of view to Durad. His point of view meant that I no longer had Theodora’s point of view. And I really wanted to take a modern approach to a 14th-century female character.
As I continue to write, I want to explore how Durad responds to the rumors about Theodora. As a new ruler, he needs to get the support of Zarko’s people. But there are two big issues:
If the people continue to be loyal to Zarko’s memory, they will undermine Durad’s authority, and he won’t be successful. He needs to win them over, by love or by force.
If there are rumors about Theodora, it’s going to stain her reputation, and Durad’s legitimacy will be undermined as well because of her reputation.
Durad needs to win the support of Zarko’s people, and he needs to defend Theodora and keep her reputation clean.
But, as a novelist, I need to keep picking on these fault-lines because that’s where the interesting part of the story is.
I hope you will continue to follow my learning and writing adventure as I try to figure out how to tell this story.
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My name is Lirim Neziri, and I am an educator and a writer. I love to read and learn, and this newsletter (which I call Lirim’s Learning Club) lets me share interesting things I am learning. I write about History, Literature, Writing, Education, Technology, Leadership, and Personal Productivity. Please join my learning adventure.