As light flooded the previously darkened room, the torch cast a warm, glowing light across his face. The diet floor was empty, the chairs vacated, the candelabras that adorned many of the tables had long been extinguished for the night. The room bore a chill in its emptiness, and Dietrich felt the need to progress to his seat at the head of Franconia's section, staring out across the circular arrangement of desks, chairs, and the oratory floor at the center.

As his gaze turned towards the map on the far wall, his thoughts went to the future of the Reich. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching into the inside of his shirt to pull out a necklace with a silver crucifix. Holding the cross tight, he closed his eyes in prayer. Our father who art in heaven flowed from his lips as it has done a thousand times before. It was in these quiet moments of silence that he felt closest to his God. Not on the field of battle, where promises of heaven and glory inspired other men to great deeds, or in the churches and altar houses where he often donated to the Catholic faith, but in his own solitude, his own place of silence in the night. This place of aloneness was where he spoke to God, and it was the answers he made for himself in that state of silence that guided his life. The shrill creaking of the door behind him occurred almost simultaneously with the opening of his eyes. Then he recognised the footsteps.

"I've been waiting." He said. "I almost thought you wouldn't come, Conrad." Looking towards the open door to where the old man stood, he slipped the cross back into his shirt.

Conrad Schüsselen was a wiry man whose white thin hair was slowly baldening. It was difficult imagining the fragile person on a battlefield, and it is understood that although he has been one several campaigns, he was never a man of the field. His duty had led him elsewhere. Scribes and Runners were always needed. Behind the glorious charges of knights and deadly hails of arrows, small cogs twirled endlessly to supply an army with its needs and Conrad was the man who made those things happen.

Clothed in an elaborate gown that seemed several sizes too large for him, Conrad entered the chamber of the Diet. A throaty cough escapes his lips and immediately his right hand rises to his mouth, and a handkerchief tugged away in his sleeve for this purpose is pressed against his lips. Small specks of blood can be seen which are quickly wiped away.
"My Grace! I'm honoured to meet you."
A small bow with just the right degree of reverence to somebody of Dietrich's station is given, not an inch more. Then he straightens and looks at him expectantly.

"You needn't bow to me." Dietrich stepped towards the old man, and, as he approached, extended his hand in greetings. After tucking the bloodied hankerchief back into his sleeve, Conrad shook the duke's hand, a slight look of bewilderment on his face.

Taking note of his unusual attire, Dietrich opted then to light the candelabra on the table and deposit the torch in a brazier before returning to sit at the table. "I have a great deal of respect for you Conrad. You stand here, old and ill, some might say leperous, blood accompanying your almost every word, and yet still you continue to attend the diet and dictate your opinion to the electors. Rarely have I seen such devotion to a cause."

Before Conrad could muster a response, he continued more directly on the purpose of their meeting. "The diet today, the exchange between myself and the Kaiser, it is much like the battle of chivalry against corruption. I have made my point and the corrupt has been exposed as such, but there are things he can do which I cannot. One of which, I believe, has been to prevent me from meeting with Duke Leopold. Every messenger I have sent has failed to return, and I can't remember the Duke ever appearing for more than a moment in the diet. I understand that you, however, meet with him regularly. What can you do? What must be done to have you arrange a meeting between Leopold and myself? Somewhere safe, somewhere, somewhere like Hamburg."

Conrad von Schüsselen was truly bewildered by this breach of protocol from Dietrich von Saxony. It seemed that he was a man who beleived in protocol and order. Neatness, yes, besides being wiry the man was neat and seemed to like it.
"You honour me with your words, my Grace. My duty is to serve and try to fulfill this duty. Can't let myself be distracted by petty illnesses, now can I?"

He listened intently to Dietrichs words. Chivalry against Corruption, an interesting way to put it.
"Indeed the Kaiser has been acting strange lately. I did not get to know him as such a man from my time in Italy. You have heard my words in the Diet. It seems my requests fall on deaf ears with the Kaiser, but I'm just a simple Elector. Ignoring a Duke now, I think he has gone too far. You seek contact to my Liege, I think I can provide it. I don't know what happened to the messengers you sent, but I have secure communication channels established. Whatever message you want to have sent, I shall deliver it."

Conrad clasps his hand in front of him, ready to deliver a final bow. Was this all this meeting was about or would there be more?

"Thank you. Have Duke Leopold meet me in Hamburg as soon as possible. I'll temporarily delay heading out to begin work on the Kaiser's menial task of setting up watch towers in the Reich's interior, something that, were he not so blinded by his power, he would have made the regional responsability of the individual Duchies a long time ago. As for brother Leopold, travelling with a small retinue, he should be able to arrive without issue in a few short weeks. My captain, Godfrey, will greet him at the front gates."

Conrad performs his bow once again as he receives Dietrichs request: "Be assured that my Liege will receive my message and will meet you in Hamburg as soon as the siege of Prague is concluded."

Dietrich, looking down towards the candelabra on the table, stared into the core of the flame, watching it flicker and dance. He lost his concentration for a moment, as if thinking back to something in his past, before he looked back up. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot." He said, then, reaching into the gilded pouch attached to his belt, pulled from it a smooth, crimson colored hankerchief that felt of silk, embroidered with the House of Austria's coat of arms.

Offering the cloth to the old man with a respectful nod, he smiled. "I thought the color might help to make the severity of your condition a little less noticeable to the diet."

Conrad stepped forward carefully and extended a hand to receive this unusual gift. His gaze is cast down upon the handkerchief as he takes it and reverently turns it around in his hand. Finally, he looks up, a quizzical look on his face: "Thank you, your Grace, your attention is too kind. Although I believe this is too fine a material to be stained by my own blood."

"Then consider it a token of my appreciation. Do you have any questions for me, Conrad?" The duke asked, watching the old man closely, attempting to pick out any discrepencies in his responce with his movements. "You seemed surprised by my greeting tonight."

Conrad seemed to be a little nervous all of a sudden and began to twirl the handkerchief in his hands, before finally getting a grip on himself and tugging it away in his sleeve. "I was indeed surprised by your invitation tonight, but it was a pleasant surprise. I have been meaning to get in contact with you. Since you will meet Duke Leopold soon though, I'm not convinced of the necessity of this meeting. Surely he can discuss these matters with you in person. However..."

Conrad reached into his garment and pulled forward a scroll, sealed with the sigil of the House of Austria and handed it to Dietrich.

"... I can give you this, it should prepare you for one of the things my master has in mind for the next Diet session. Of course all things mentioned within this document are purely a base for negotiation. I'm sure your support in this matter will be appreciated by our House and every favour returned as soon as possible." He smiled a sleek smile and bowed his exact bow once more.

After reading over the document Dietrich smiled and stood to retrieve his torch from the brazier, making sure that any ashes left are out. "I will speak with Leopold on this matter deeply, but let him know that I am fully supportive of his ideas. The House of Austria has a friend in Franconia." He said, before offering the elderly elector a bow.

As he snuffed out the candle light at the table, he took one final look around the empty diet floor. "Conrad." He said, still thinking back to the elector's bewilderment in his greeting and feeling it may be best to explain his breach of regular diet protocol. "Do not be surprised by my informality today. We are both men of nobility and station, and you, being worthy of my great respect, I believe should also then be worthy of my friendship. And when the diet is closed, well, why worry about formalities between friends? I'll be leaving in a moment, no need to wait for me."

At this comment Conrad bowed even deeper to the Duke. "I'm just a simple servant, my Grace. Your offer of friendship is heartily accepted. I'm convinced that the friendship between our Houses will bear many fruits."
He turned around and left the Diet floor, already engrossed in his own thoughts again, a smug smile showed on his face, as he was quite pleased with his accomplishments tonight.

There was one last thing he had to do before he left. Earlier in the day the Kaiser had snorted and fumed about Dietrich's supposed lack of children. If the Kaiser wanted Dietrich so greatly to have a son, then Dietrich would have a son, but it would be a son who understood the errors of the Kaiser's judgement. Reaching again into the pouch he removed a small scroll, his eyes crossing over the petition for adoption before finally coming to rest on the Kaiser's table. He would have to accept, his remarks earlier that day really gave him no other choice.


This story was written as a cooperative work between Lucjan and Ituralde.