Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[TinCow]

The cold Church floor siphoned all willpower of him. Grit was lodged in the skin of his forehead, but he ignored it and continued to press his head into the stones. If only he could plunge his head clear through, perhaps he would break out on the other side into a paradise, an Eden, where the sins of men could not penetrate.

“Oh, what great evil and enmity this is!”

He had never seen Hildegard like this before. He had known her, loved her, for her shining example of Christian morality and forgiveness. She had saved his soul through compassion and patience. Yet now Mandorf was afraid to raise his head from the floor in front of the altar, fearing that he would see a great and terrible Angel seeking vengeance with a fiery sword.

“That a person is unwilling to live an upright life, either for God's sake or mankind's, but, rather, seeks honor without work and eternal rewards without abstinence! Such a one, in his supposed sanctity, vainly longs to cry out, as the devil does, I am good and holy. But this is not true!”

Mandorf focused his thoughts and attempted to calm his rising panic. I am the Chancellor of the Reich and the Steward, no… the Count of Nuremburg. I must face my failures like a nobleman.

“You are worn out by seeking after your own transitory reputation in the world, so that, at one moment, you are knights, the next slaves, the next mere jesting minstrels, so that in the perfunctory performance of your duties you sometimes manage to brush off the flies in the summer.”

He took a deep breath and raised his head, his eyes angled upwards, to meet her gaze at the first possible instant. Her robes came into view, a dark mass of fabric, punctuated by the pale white form of an outstretched hand pointed directly at his soul.

“You ought to be the day, but you are the night! For you will be either the day or the night. Choose, therefore, where you wish to take your stand!”

The Chancellor stood and looked Hildegard in the eye. “I am a man of God. I am his servant on Earth and will give my life in service to him.”

The nun’s head tilted, and her eyes bore in on him. “You lead an Empire that is at war with the Vicar of Christ, God’s representative on Earth. The very legislation you proposed now requires you to supply those responsible for this atrocity with armies to slaughter the Pope himself. If he dies, the blood of Christ will be on your hands!”

He wanted to bow his head in shame, to hide his soul from her gaze. The stone and dirt beneath his feet was a bastion of safety for the damned. Yet he did not move. “If I am damned, I shall pay for my crimes in the afterlife. When the time comes, my responsibilities for this war will be weighed in the Heavens. If I am found wanting, I will accept the consequences. But I still draw breath and I have duties to this Empire, its peoples, and its laws.”

Hildegard scowled. “You choose the night!”

“NO!” Blood rushed to his face. “I choose justice and law! I am a servant of the Reich and a servant of the Lord, and I will fulfill my obligations to both! It was not my schemes, my machinations, which started this war. The Kaiser rules us all and the Duke of Bavaria is no longer my vassal. I have no power to refuse them or to invalidate their actions, but I do have power to protect the good Christians of the Reich. The Kaiser has been excommunicated, but there are vast numbers of the Faithful within our borders. Tell me, would I serve God or the Devil if I resigned my post and left them to the wolves simply because I feared for my own soul?”

The anger subsided from her face, but the fires still burned deep in her eyes. “You will send armed men to Duke von Kassel. You will give him the means to destroy Pope Gregory.”

The Chancellor shook his head. “They are not mine to give or take away. The law requires that I maintain the Household Armies and it gives the Duke free reign to use them as he sees fit within his own borders. I could no more refuse to continue to assemble the Bavarian Household Army than I could hold back the winds with my bare hands. The army is his, it matters not whether I wish him to have it or not.”

Mandorf took a deep breath, feeling the confidence grow inside him. “Laws are not evil simply because some men may use them in evil ways. A good law cannot be abandoned because one man abuses it. I will not deny Duke von Kassel the men he is entitled to by law, but I also shall not aid him further beyond the minimum of what is required of me. He has chosen his own fate and I will have no hand in it beyond what is mandated.”

Hildegard considered him for a moment, then her stare finally broke and she look up at the cross on the altar. “Go then. Protect the good Christians and fight whatever evil you perceive. Your actions will be weighed in the end.” She turned back and looked at him. “Just remember that an immense weight will be pulling down on you always. Your virtues will have to be great indeed to break that chain.”

The Chancellor of the Reich bowed. “You will forgive my departure then, for there is much to do.” The nun did not move as he turned and strode out of the Church.

-------------

Note: Hildegard's first four quotes are a section from a sermon she gave in Cologne in 1163.

[GeneralHankerchief]

A small church outside of Genoa, 1154

If one was to walk into the church at that very moment, that person would have found Kaiser Heinrich alone, kneeling at the front pew, deep in prayer. However, if that person were to be specifically looking for the Kaiser, they would have been turned away by the numerous guards surrounding the church. Heinrich had specifically ordered that he be given time for solitude. And so, he was left alone in that small church, with the candles flickering and figure of the crucified Jesus staring down imposingly at him.

He did not confess his sins; he believed that there was nothing to confess. In his heart he truly thought that he had done right all these years. He was restoring the power of investiture to its proper place, ridding the world and Christendom of an usurper and false prophet.

No, he did not seek forgiveness. He had come to this church at this time to pray for success in the upcoming battle. The final battle.

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.
Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.
He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.
Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;
Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.
Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.
Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation;
There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.
For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.
They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.
Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name.
He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.
With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation."

The last few years had been a blur to Heinrich. He had remembered receiving the official notice of excommunication, remembered the glory of finally entering and taking Rome, remembered the Diet's explosion and its grim realization that it could do nothing. After that, however... silence. Life moved on, and Heinrich's internal hourglass had a few more grains trickle to the bottom.

Pope Gregory, in an expected move, had besieged Genoa immediately after Rome fell. However, in an unexpected move, he had assaulted very quickly and easily overwhelemed the garrison. This turned out to be a blessing, however, as he was trapped at last. The Bavarian Household Army, led by Duke Otto von Kassel, had besieged the city again, and the Kaiser's army had followed. The long period of waiting and construction was over. Soon it would be time to assault.

"Blessed be the Lord my strength which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight:
My goodness, and my fortress; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me.
Lord, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him! or the son of man, that thou makest account of him!
Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.
Cast forth lightning, and scatter them: shoot out thine arrows, and destroy them.
Send thine hand from above; rid me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of strange children;
Whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
I will sing a new song unto thee, O God: upon a psaltery and an instrument of ten strings will I sing praises unto thee.
It is he that giveth salvation unto kings: who delivereth David his servant from the hurtful sword.
Rid me, and deliver me from the hand of strange children, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood:
That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace:
That our garners may be full, affording all manner of store: that our sheep may bring forth thousands and ten thousands in our streets:
That our oxen may be strong to labour; that there be no breaking in, nor going out; that there be no complaining in our streets.
Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord."

It seemed as if all his life had been leading up to this moment. The Pope had broken away from the Reich when he was six; ever since then he had been fighting to repair things. At first, things did not go well. He was forced to stand in the snow for four days and beg forgiveness. Over half of his territories had been lost to him.

Finally, things had started to turn around. He began a campaign to take back the surrounding lands. Most of the Diet had supported his claim to Rome. But, just as things had started to finally get back into his grasp, Rome and investiture had slipped away again. In the Diet, he had been involved in too many conflicts with the Dukes. The situation in Italy was complicated by bloody wars with both Milan and Venice. And a servant, no, puppet of Gregory had been elected to the office of Chancellor in Maximillian Mandorf, all but denying him the prospect of redemption forever.

He had somehow managed to work around it all, getting Duke Otto involved in an elaborate plan to legally declare war on the Papacy. It had worked, to most of the Electors' outrage and chagrin. He had finally been given a chance to right the largest wrong of them all.

The Diet still denounced and demonized him. Never mind the fact that Dietrich von Saxony, Fredricus von Hamburg, and the other disbelieving Franconians finally had a free hand to drive back the Poles. Never mind the fact that Prinz Henry and the other Swabians now had nothing standing in their way to enact revenge on the French, or Duke Leopold and the Austrians against the Venetians. He had given the Electors a means of extending the glory of their Houses without any outside interference, but very few people had realized it. Gregory had done an excellent job.

"Hold not thy peace, O God of my praise;
For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me: they have spoken against me with a lying tongue.
They compassed me about also with words of hatred; and fought against me without a cause.
For my love they are my adversaries: but I give myself unto prayer.
And they have rewarded me evil for good, and hatred for my love.
Set thou a wicked man over him: and let Satan stand at his right hand.
When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let his prayer become sin.
Let his days be few; and let another take his office.
Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.
Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places.
Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil his labour.
Let there be none to extend mercy unto him: neither let there be any to favour his fatherless children.
Let his posterity be cut off; and in the generation following let their name be blotted out.
Let the iniquity of his fathers be remembered with the Lord; and let not the sin of his mother be blotted out.
Let them be before the Lord continually, that he may cut off the memory of them from the earth.
Because that he remembered not to shew mercy, but persecuted the poor and needy man, that he might even slay the broken in heart.
As he loved cursing, so let it come unto him: as he delighted not in blessing, so let it be far from him.
As he clothed himself with cursing like as with his garment, so let it come into his bowels like water, and like oil into his bones.
Let it be unto him as the garment which covereth him, and for a girdle wherewith he is girded continually.
Let this be the reward of mine adversaries from the Lord, and of them that speak evil against my soul.
But do thou for me, O God the Lord, for thy name's sake: because thy mercy is good, deliver thou me.
For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me.
I am gone like the shadow when it declineth: I am tossed up and down as the locust.
My knees are weak through fasting; and my flesh faileth of fatness.
I became also a reproach unto them: when they looked upon me they shaked their heads.
Help me, O Lord my God: O save me according to thy mercy:
That they may know that this is thy hand; that thou, Lord, hast done it.
Let them curse, but bless thou: when they arise, let them be ashamed; but let thy servant rejoice.
Let mine adversaries be clothed with shame, and let them cover themselves with their own confusion, as with a mantle.
I will greatly praise the Lord with my mouth; yea, I will praise him among the multitude.
For he shall stand at the right hand of the poor, to save him from those that condemn his soul."

Heinrich had won a resounding victory in his capture of Rome, but there was still the ultimate resolution to be fought. Gregory still lived, and as long as he did, Heinrich would be perceived as the lesser man.

Time to get going, Heinrich thought as he stood up, the process taking longer than usual due to his aged knees. The moment to forever decide his final reputation, his final legacy, had come at last.

[OverKnight]

Otto was back at Bern, lined up with his men for an assault. Beside him Sigismund was extolling the troops, "Men of Bavaria, follow von Kassel to the death."

Sigismund turned to him, and that is when he noticed the man's throat was cut and his face mottled in asphyxiation. All at once the siege towers burst into flames casting a red glare over the dead man's features.

The fire was now coming from a brazier, the Kaiser's face floating over it bathed in shadow and flame, "If you accept and you cross me, you will be wishing that you were put on watchtower duty."

The die is cast.

Suddenly, he was bound to a stake, on a pyre erected in the middle of the Diet. The Electors were gathered there, and Maximillian stood before him holding a torch. "YOU HAVE DAMNED US!", screamed Mandorf as he tossed the torch into the kindling. The flames leapt up.

I have to deal with the world the way it is.

"Even if nobody we like is in the preferati, I can always... depose them," said the Kaiser, as he hung from a cross in a Bolognese church.

I sold my soul for the promise of a royal wife and a title.

Otto sat on a throne in the Great Hall of Innsbruck, the crown of Bavaria on his head. A roaring fire in the hearth turned the room crimson. Around him were scattered the bodies of his family and friends, butchered and left for the crows.

"Of course you may join your comrades", Otto heard himself say, "You have fought bravely and will be released. After, of course, we hack off your head. I will not have you wearing a crown again!"

The question is what should I do about it?

The axe fell and Otto screamed. . .and woke up.

Outside Genoa, 1154

Otto's tent lay among the large Bavarian siege camp. Inside, the Duke of Bavaria started up in his bed, breathing raggedly. His wife stirred beside him, turned over and resumed snoring.

Getting up from bed, Otto threw on a robe against the chill of the night, and exited the tent. Looking south his gaze took in the siege works and beyond that the city of Genoa. Once the city is taken and Gregory is killed, thought Otto, This must end.

Returning to the tent he lit a candle, placed it on a desk, and sat before it. He stared into the flame, it flickered and danced in the darkness.

"Otto?", mumbled Elsebeth, "What are you doing up? Come back to bed."

"Later Princess," replied Otto, his eyes not moving from the fire, "I have some letters to write."

[OverKnight]

Rome, 1154

Otto's head rung from the slap.

"You bastard!", hissed Elsebeth, "Is what I heard in the Diet true? Is what I heard from my ladies-in-waiting true?"

Otto reached up and massaged his jaw, this was not the greeting he had expected after returning from the Emergency Diet session.

"I do not know Elsebeth", replied Otto, "What have they told you?"

Elsebeth slapped him again.

"Don't play stupid with me Otto! I have been told that you and my Father conspired to bring about the confrontation with Gregory, and that I was the bribe needed to make this happen! Otto von Kassel, second son and mere soldier of the Reich, needed lands and a title, my father needed a pliant Duke, and so I was married off to you to seal the deal!"

Otto grunted, someone had made damn sure that this information made it to Elsebeth, but who? Still, she would have found out eventually.

"Yes Princess, what you have heard was true. I am sorry it is so, but your father needed it done, and if it was not me, it would have been someone else who married you for the same price. That is the lot of royal daughters."

Elsebeth slapped him again.

"At least you have the bravery to be honest about your treachery! Even now, you use me as an excuse not go on my brother's Crusade! How dare you bring up our child troubles? Do you think me so weak and delicate that I can't handle the rigors of travel? You of all people need to cleanse your sins!"

Otto gaped, "But my lady, it was not an excuse, I would not drag you across Europe. There is much to be done here to rebuild Bavaria and heal the wounds of the investiture crisis. I regret my actions, but. . ."

Elsebeth tried to slap him again, but Otto caught her arm and pulled her forward. They were very close now.

"Beth, please stop that", Otto said quietly, "I do regret my actions in the crisis. I wish there had been another way. I tried my best to control it, to make sure the madness didn't continue. . .but if I hadn't said yes we would have never been married. I do love you, I hope you know that."

The Princess looked up at him, she brought up her hand and cupped his face where she had struck him, "Otto, I hear your words, but you still struggle against yourself. I love you, your better half that is. Let go of the anger and the greed, be a true Knight."

Otto smiled sadly, "Ah yes, Roland, what would he do? Go on the Crusade and leave the trappings of power behind, most like."

Elsebeth nodded, "But there is more, you must believe it in your heart. You must act in a Chivalrous manner. You must seek true forgiveness with an open mind and a clean soul."

Otto grimaced, "You sound like Maximillian, my love."

He sighed heavily, "You are right, however, though I am loathe to admit it. Well, if I am to be true Knight, than I would ask my Lady for her favor. A piece of silk perhaps?"

Elsebeth kissed Otto and then moved over to a chest. Removing an item she came back to her husband.

"You may have my favor, Otto", she said, "But I doubt a kerchief will be to your liking. Now this is more fitting."

Elsebeth presented Otto with a small dagger. It was sheathed in a scabbard that was embroidered with the quartered arms of the Empire and Bavaria. A delicate blade, but sharp.

"I no longer have need of this. Perhaps you will find it useful. I hope it will remind you of your new calling when in battle."

Otto smiled, accepting the blade, "Are you sure Beth? The times ahead will be difficult. I will be glad to have you with me, but it will not be easy for you."

Elsebeth nodded and they embraced. Their path was set.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Genoa, 1154

The door to a rarely-used room in the city's palace creaked open. Inside sat Pope Gregory, tied to a chair and looking thoroughly uncomfortable. He turned his head at this new development in what had otherwise been quite a boring day. In strode Kaiser Heinrich, dressed modestly and holding a sword in hand. Gregory chuckled.

"Ah, Heinrich, have you come to make me a martyr?"

The Kaiser kept a stern look on his face. "You delude yourself, Hildebrand," he said, using the Pope's given name. "Once I destroy you, Catholic Europe will be released from your spell and they will beg me for forgiveness, saying how right I was all these years."

The Pope seemed to ignore everything Heinrich had said, instead focusing on the first part. "As my Papal name is Gregory, you will address me as such, Kaiser. It is a part of my title."

Heinrich just sighed. "First of all, this is turning into a meta-argument. Since I did not approve of your appointment you have no right to declare your new name as part of your title. Since this past argument has led to my victory and your capture, it has already been determined that your Papacy was an illegitimate one. Second of all, that aside, you are in no position to request or demand how I am to address you."

The Pope said nothing, so the Kaiser continued.

"Now that we have settled this matter, Hildebrand, let us move on to other issues. You have put my Empire in grave danger numerous times over the course of your Papacy and flouted my authority an equal amount of those times. I do not appreciate this."

"Ha!" Gregory spat at the Kaiser, being able to do little else. "I was just reclaiming a right that you had taken away from us many years ago. Why should someone not associated with the church appoint its highest officials?"

"This was not a religious move; this was a political move and we both know it."

"It does not lessen the question. Answer it please."

The Kaiser whacked Gregory over the head with the flat edge of his sword at this last comment. The Pope, screaming in pain, fell over along with the chair he was still tied to.

"Apparently we are getting nowhere here," said Heinrich smartly. He took out a piece of brown material and after examining it, threw it at his helpless prisoner. "This is the same hairshirt that I wore to Canossa begging for your forgiveness all of these years ago. Put it on, please."

Gregory stared at it for a second and laughed. "You have got to be joking."

The Kaiser's expression was similar to that of stone. "If you do not put it on, I will give the order to execute the several hundred prisoners captured in the battle."

Gregory did a double-take (as much as it would allow while being tied-up and on one's side) at this last comment. "Surely you would not escalate this vendetta of yours to the point that when I did not obey you hundreds of lives would be lost."

"Nobody thought I'd restart this conflict and attack Rome either. Put it on. I'll untie you."

After Heinrich untied his prisoner (although cutting the ropes with his sword was more like it) he watched Gregory change, giving the man no privacy. The sight of Gregory's body, the slowness at which he changed, and the paleness of his skin with no clothes to hide it struck Heinrich. The Pope looked incredibly weak.

When Gregory was dressed, Heinrich grabbed his shoulder and dragged him out of the room into the palace corridor. Gregory was expecting to have to beg for the Kaiser's forgiveness, but Heinrich seemed to be leading him to a specific location. He vaguely paid attention to the journey, but he saw that there were lots of turns and lots of downstairs flights.

Gradually the light got darker and darker, until finally, when Heinrich opened another door, it seemed like night. Evidently they were in the city's catacombs. A horrible odor had permeated the air, and Gregory, wearing nothing but his captor's old hairshirt, quickly got chilly.

The Kaiser, noticing Gregory's uncomfortableness with the temperature, turned. "Enjoy the chill while you can, Hildebrand. It's going to get a lot hotter for you very soon."

The putrid, cool, damp air was doing more damage to Gregory's fragile system than any physical harm. He began to bend over, coughing. Meanwhile, Heinrich continued to lead him down, deeper into the city's catacombs.

"You know, I've been thinking," he said as he walked, speaking over Gregory's occasional coughing and now, sneezing, "What would be more satisfying for me personally? The prospect of killing my greatest enemy and thus fully redeeming myself for my foolish early actions, or keeping him alive and making him my puppet, thus allowing him to unfortunately witness my triumph?"

Finally, they stopped walking. Gregory was barely able to talk now. The air was so foul, he didn't understand how Heinrich could bear it. To their side was what seemed to be a river of sludge. Was it the city's sewer system, perhaps?

"I'd appreciate some input, Hildebrand."

The next thing Gregory knew, his head was being forced into the sludge. Gasping in shock and surprise, he swallowed a mouthful of God knows what. It tasted as bad as it smelt. He couldn't see, his nose, throat, eyes, and stomach were all screaming at him to stop the pain, but no respite came...

...finally, his head was pulled back up out of the sewer. His face was a mess, his long white hair now dirty and tangled. He gasped for breath, and his ears vaguely heard a "well?" before he was forced back into the muck.

The second time was as bad as the first. If this were water it wouldn't be so bad, but this was not water. He was suffocating, drowning in other people's trash, urine, excrement, and who knows what else.

He was pulled back out of the sewer once again, this time allowed to catch his breath.

"I want an answer, Hildebrand."

Gregory, sputtering, trying to clear his mouth of the toxic mixture that it had been subjected to, could only manage a "puh-puh-please..." before he was dunked again.

The third time was worse than the other two, due to the sheer longetivity that he was down. He was still fully aware of himself, and thinking clearly, but he knew that if he didn't get air, blessed air, even the pungent aroma of these catacombs, he would die soon.

When next allowed to rise out of the sludge, Gregory swallowed his pride (along with various other substances), and begged for it to stop.

"Puh-please, don't... please don't keep this up... I'll do anything... I'm sorry..."

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry... just please don't kill me... I'll do anything you ask... just don't..."

Heinrich grinned menacingly.

"Do you agree that you were wrong all these years, that I have the power of Investiture and that you unrightfully took it away from me?"

"Yes, yes! Just get me out of here!"

"Do you agree that I have the sole power of Investiture?!"

"YES! Please don't hurt me anymore..."

Heinrich ignored the final plea.

"Then, by the power vested in me as Holy Roman Emperor, I hereby depose you as Pope."

He dunked Hildebrand, for that was truly his name now, into the sewer for the final time, this time not letting up until Hildebrand had finished screaming and shaking his arms madly. Kaiser Heinrich, power asserted once and for all, turned away from the lifeless, stinking body of his tormentor and exited the catacombs without looking back.

[econ21]

Somewhere in North Italy, 1154

Henry rode through the darkened city streets with a single escort, a young Bavarian knight. It had been arranged - it was better like this, less likely to attract attention. All through the long journey, Duke Otto’s question at the Crusader Council had rang unanswered in his mind: would he, Henry, stand for Chancellor? The Bavarian knight wanted an answer for his Duke, but Henry still needed time to think. Why me? Why should I be the one to stand?

The main business of the next Diet would be shepherding the crusade to the Holy Land - for that reason, a crusading Chancellor was the best bet. With settlements governed by Counts and Household armies governed by Dukes, the Reich could almost run itself. All it would take, if Henry were elected Chancellor, were a few signatures on troop requisition forms and reliance on the Imperial secretariat to facilitate communication among the Houses.

What was the alternative? Entrusting the logistics and direction of the crusade to the trust of a man who opposed the crusade? Or worse, one of his father’s lackeys who might find a way to subvert the Edict against further territorial expansion. Who might use the opportunity to hunt down and kill future Popes and foreign Cardinals. Henry shuddered. Yes, a crusading Chancellor would be the best bet.

And yet there were no candidates. Henry had looked to Dietrich, whose accomplishments in the field Henry had always admired and envied. But the old warhorse had stubbornly ruled it out, thinking it inappropriate. Likewise, Maximillan, a shrewd and severe Chancellor, had barred himself from what would no doubt have been a most proficiently executed second term. Otto - well, Otto was wise enough to see the logic of a crusading Chancellor but was too unsure of his current standing in the Diet to risk defeat in an election. And so that left Henry.

What held him back? Was it the weakness his father had saw in him? The fear of making enemies? The lack of drive or direction that had characterised his career so far? In truth, Henry did not know. Henry lived in the shadow of his father and of the crown that would be his, God willing, when his father passed on. Until that shadow was lifted, until the crown was secure, Henry felt as if he were waiting for his real life to begin. Why expose himself to criticism and condemnation now? Why exhaust his political capital, make enemies, just for the privilege of planning a route march? The next Diet would probably be uneventful; certainly uneventful if Henry had his way. Why bother? Why me? Let Leopold or someone else do the donkey’s work. Stay under that shadow, wait for that crown.

He had arrived. His Bavarian escort dismounted and helped Henry off his horse. The knight knocked on the heavy wooden door. A shutter on the door opened and frightened eyes looked out. Whispered words in Italian and the door was unlocked. Henry entered, was ushered down to the basement by a worried looking man with a shaved head.

In the basement, Henry saw a second man waiting - dressed in plain white and black clothes, with a large black hat. An inquisitor! Henry’s hand moved to his dagger and he checked behind him to look at his Bavarian escort. The Bavarian was looking around the dark basement curiously, the blank open look on his face testimony to his innocence. Henry relaxed - it was not a trap, the inquisitor was alone and apparently not on official business.

“He is here”, the shaven man said, pointing to a wrapped form on the table.

Henry approached cautiously. Why was he, Henry, here? Why was he doing this again? But morbid fascination propelled him forward. Fascination not with the form on the table, but with the bloodline that had put it there.

“It is very bad, your Highness, very bad.” the man lamented. “We found him and brought him here. We did not want the Germans… we did not want anything more to happen to him.”

Henry pulled back the rough blanket covering the figure on the table. The smell was overpowering - a stench of waste and putrefaction. The corpse’s eyes were bulging, its face had a bluish tinge under the dirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the young Bavarian knight hold his nose and look away in revulsion. The inquisitor was staring at Henry, eyes burning with hatred.

Henry focussed again on the corpse. The dirt was so ingrained it was hard to make out. What was he wearing? Henry noticed the hair shirt and gasped - so it was true, there could be no doubt who was responsible for this. He looked at the expression of helpless terror on the dead man’s face. Henry’s lips curled in disdain - not at the pitiful spectacle in front of him, but at the thought of the events that had led to it. War with Papacy, sacking Rome, besieging Genoa - these were bad enough. These things he had endured. But this, this was something else.

What had he said in the Diet? …the prospect of the Holy Father lying dead at the feet of my unholy father… Even in his wildest condemnation of Heinrich, he had not imagined this prospect would come true - not like this. Death in combat was one thing; no man in an army could object to such an end. But callous and cruel murder was quite another matter. Poor Sigismund’s end had been kind compared to this. Henry gently closed the dead man’s eyes and placed the blanket back over him.

He turned angrily to the shaven headed monk:

“Clean him up. Anoint him. Dress him in the finest garments you can procure. I will send men to collect the body for burial, far from prying eyes. You must organise Mass for him in as many churches as you can. For me to do so would be seen as treason.”

The monk bowed, while the inquisitor watched Henry coolly and then quietly left the basement. Henry ignored his departure and instead stared harshly at Bavarian knight. It was as if he seeing his own father standing there, instead of the young warrior. Heinrich had to be stopped. Why me? Because there was no one else.

“And you… you tell Duke Otto the answer is yes.”

[Kagemusha]

Thorn castle at night after the fall of The castle to German hands.

At the gates of Thorn,Sergeant Ulf was counting in his head,how much money he would get from the loot of the castle. He cursed his faith,that had put him on the guard duty on this very night when others were celebrating the victory from the Poles.
At evening a rain had started and it had got worse hour by hour and now it was pouring like someone would have been pouring it from a huge barrel over the earth.
Ulf was disturbed from his thoughts,when a single rider came towards the gate. As the stranger aproached Ulf grabbed his spear and shouted to the man who was now dismounted and walking his horse towards the gate

"Who are you and why are you aproaching the gates of Thorn,after the night call has been sounded. There is no entrance to the city in the middle of the night!"

Stranger,a tall figure dressed on a black robe and an armor showing up behind the black cloath walked towards the sergeant steadily,without saying a word.

"Are you a deaf, there is no entrance to the castle at this hour!"

Ulf shouted as the stranger aproached. As the stranger came near Ulf,he tryed to lift his spear to block the way of the man. Fast as lightning,the armored hand of the stranger grabbed a firm grib from his spear. Ulf looked at the hand and saw the seal ring of Franconia in the finger of the stranger.

Dietrich Von Saxony sayed with calm and steady voice to the sergeant of the Spearmen.

"Are you blocking your Dukes way to one of his castles?"

As Ulf tryed to simultaneously salute the Duke and give reply,Dietrich interrupted him and continued.

"What is your name and rank soldier?"

Ulf replyed.

"Ulf, sergeant of Spearmen in Household army of Franconia"

"Well,Ulf,Sergeant of Spearmen in the Household army of Franconia. I have orders for you.Now you go to your captain and tell him that you want the next guard shift also. After that you will go to castle crypt and drive anyone out from there and after that come back and escort me there.Is this understood?"

Ulf tryed to sober.

"But mein Lord,there is a wake going on for the Polish nobleman who lead the defense of this castle,before he and his men were killed."

"Silence!"

Dietrich barked to the man.

"Now you go and do what i told you to do. And speak not a single word about to anyone,that im here."

"Sir!Yes Sire!"

Ulf mumbled and started running towards the guard house.Dietrich remained standing in the rain. He tapped his horses sides,which were warm and wet from the rain and sayed to the horse.

"Old friend,we still have many miles to journey this night.Rest now and wait for me hear."

The horse turned its wet and warm mouth towards Dietrich as he stroke it gently. And looked Dietrich with its large brown eyes.

Soon Ulf returned and escorted Dietrich to the Crypt. As Ulf tryed to take a torch and lead Dietrich down the stairs. Dietrich stopped him.

"Give me the torch and wait outside."

Ulf nodded and walked out,as Dietrich started walking down to the crypt. Soon he entered a large hall with a single man lying in a stand made of Stone, surrounded by candles that created a dim light to the crypt.. The man was still in full armour and Dietrich could see the dryed blood and large wounds on the man. Dietrich walked next to the corpse and put his torch into a hanger.
The man was about the same size as Dietrich was,thick neck and broad shoulders looked exactly like Dietrichs own, but while Dietrichs thick black hair had gained some grey,the man lying next to Dietrich was completely bald and had large beard.Nonetheless these two, if they would have standed side by side,could have been thought to be brothers or relatives. Dietrich talked to the dead man.

"Finally we meet. Im sorry that i could not save you, but may we meet in heaven soon. While you never knew me.I know who you were. Rest now and may you be in peace. Dietrich kneeled and prayed outloud.

"Our Father, who art in heaven,

Hallowed be thy Name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done,

On earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,

and the power,

and the glory,

for ever and ever.

Amen."

Dietrich draw the sign of cross with his wet finger from the rain on the forehead of the dead man and stayed on his place for a while in the absolute silence of the crypt. After a while he stood up grabbed the torch and walked out,where Ulf was waiting.
As the two men came out from the gate.Dietrich mounted and turned towards Ulf and sayed.

"Sergeant Ulf. No one came in the Thorn tonight and no one left Thorn also."

Ulf swallowed as Dietrich pierced him with his eyes.

"Yes Sire,understood"

Dietrich dropped a heavy bag of Gold coins to the sergeants hand. Before Ulf could say anything, The Duke of Franconia was already galloping away,in to the rain.

OOC:Remember guys,not any of you know about this episode.

[Ituralde]

The colonnade lay quiet, except for the quiet sprinkling of the marble fountain in the middle of the inner courtyard, the noise of the Eternal City dimmed to a mere buzz. Although the Imperial Diet had chosen a central building for their congregations it was large enough to provide small patches of quietness in the busy city.

Leopold standing between two columns was lost in thought as the approaching footsteps pulled him out of the reverie. Slowly he turns to face the newcomer. Disbanding all protocol he takes a step forward to clasp his hand on the other man's shoulder. "I'm glad you came, my brother! Finally we have the time to talk." Thus declaring that this was not intended as a talk between Dukes, but between friends.

Smiling a faint smile he turns around: "Let's walk a little. We have much to discuss!"

Dietrich shook Leopolds hand with a friendly smile on his face. The two walked through the hallways and ended up on a balcony that provided a view over the holy city. After a bit of silence Dietrich said to the younger man.
"Im leaving. I am going to the Holy land to meet my destiny. It will be up to you to deal with the old man and I hope you can gather enough support in the Diet to keep him under control, so the Reich will not drive itself in to the doom, that is lurking around us.

Leopold enjoyed the sight in front of him, the bustle of a city always gave him a good feeling.
"I am happy for you. May you find your destiny on this Crusade. I had my doubts, but with your support this could still turn into a holy journey. I hear that young von Mahren is going too? Too bad, he did an admirable job and made our border even securer. I hope I can count on von Kastilien and von Hamburg to secure our Eastern border."

He looks over the balcony again, taking in the view and taking a deep breath, before looking back to Dietrich: "You presume right though. I will stay to defend what's mine. In fact I would like to defend what's ours by candidating for Chancellor. Do I have your support?"

Dietrich smiles to Leopold, leaving Leopold to wonder if he is just honestly smiling or he is just smiling to the predictable question.

"There is no question about that. I think you are the man who can save the Reich in this situation. After all we have been through together I have absolute trust on you. Im sure that Von Hamburg and Von Kastillien will help you in any way possible to protect the Reich. Von Mahren is still a young man and I'm sure one day he will be back from the Holy journey, along with the Prinz. I hope then the times will be more pleasant and these days will be just an agonizing memory. It has been an honour to know you Duke Leopold of Austria. May God go with you. I will have to go now to Frankfurt to say my goodbyes to my loved ones and prepare for my final journey to the Holy Land. You have the support and friendship of Franconia and I'm sure you will honour that."

Duke Dietrich turns his head towards the first rays of light of the rising sun. Watching somewhere in the distance and then turns to shake Leopolds hand.

"I thank you for your support Dietrich, it means a lot to me. I will do everything in my power to ensure that whoever comes back from the Crusade will find his lands untouched and secure.
It has been a pleasure to know you Duke Saxony of Franconia. It lifts my heart that such able men accompany the Crusade and at the same time saddens me that this will be your last journey. I wish you the best of luck and I am sure you will see success!"

Leopold shakes the hand of Dietrich a brief smile passing over his face. It would become a difficult time and it would be even more difficult without his trusted ally at his side. Still holding on to his hand he speaks again.

"I will honour this friendship and Franconia can always rely on Austria! Who will be your Steward once you are gone though? Who can I turn to, to uphold the friendship between our Houses?"

Dietrich looks in the eyes of Leopold and answers:

"Tell you the truth, I'm not sure even myself at the moment. I have little time before the Crusade moves out, so I will visit my home Frankfurt to say goodbyes to my family, before I will leave from there. I will decide the future ruler of Franconia. Now my friend, we should go and cast our votes in the Diet. Im in a hurry so I can leave still today to see my Duchy, before leaving from where the sun rises."

Dietrich taps Leopold on the shoulder and starts walking steadily towards the Diet, while Leopold remains standing on the banister. So much had been left untouched and untalked about, but the most important thing, the support for his Chancellroship had been secured.


(written by Kagemusha and Ituralde)

[Ituralde]

A recently unearthed letter exchange between the Dukes of Bavaria and Austria has been translated. It is believed to stem from the Second Investiture Crisis, maybe following or having been written during the Emergency Diet of the year 1154 AD. It is notable how Duke Otto von Kassel later did join the Crusade, which lead to the ensuing struggle we all know of.



Dear Otto von Kassel,
Duke of Bavaria!

I have refrained until now from speaking of your involvement in the recent developments that have led to our excommunication. I believe you had your reasons to cooperate with Emperor Heinrich and respected them. You have sold your soul and cast possible damnation on all of us for your advancement. While I admire your verve and ambition, I believed you to be a more astute man to see the consequences of your doings. Your cooperation has brought you much, a royal wife, the title of a Duke and rich lands in Italy. Who would not be tempted to sell his soul for those prospects, seeing how well the things have developed.

Gregory has clearly not had God's support in the battle and probably never had it. Who am I to judge these Celestial things? All I can do is observe what happens here on Earth and make my judgement based on it.
I believed you would see that you have done a great wrong to gain much advancement and would come to your senses and see that you may have bargained for too much. That you may try to right some of the wrongs you made. That you try to lessen the burden of sin you have laden upon your shoulders.

Your actions in this Emergency Diet sessions have once again shown your true face however. Consumed by greed you are unable to sacrifice one meagre settlement for reconciliation with the Pope, for restoring the excommunication you have cast upon us. It would still be a good deal. Duke of Bavaria, member of the Royal family, Genoa in your possession. You would have done admirably well to advance your own agenda. Do not take this game too far however by wanting to hold on to everything you have recieved. If you give up a small part of it now in the form of Florence, the other Houses may see that you are noble and pious at your heart and have done the same that most of us would have also done were they in the same situation.

As said in the Diet, if our roles were reversed I'd gladly give up Florence to gain reconciliation. Does Heinrich still have this great a hold on you? He is old and soon our brother Henry will become Emperor. Your actions are despised by most other Houses and even your own lieges seem to disagree with you. You don't have to stand without allies once Heinrichs reign ends.

If you decide not to repent yoru sins, and show some reconciliation efforts by offering one of the treasures you have gained through your unholy bargain, then I fear that I for one will not be able to forgive you. Do what you must, but don't expect me to forgive you for your atrocities. If a small sacrifice seems too much for you and your sins, then I will refuse to acknowledge you or any of your actions in the future, be they in the Diet or in private.
Choose well, my Lord!

Yours faithfully,

Duke Leopold


---------------


Duke Leopold,

Your speak plainly and I'm grateful for it. My past dealings with you and von Schusslen were usually more murky.

I simply do not agree with your proposal. It has nothing to do with the state of my soul, which is my own business, or my supposed diabolical leanings. I wish I was the mastermind you made me out to be. I support 1.1. I do not support 1.4. It is as simple as that.

Maximillian is set on going on this Crusade, I will not deny him this. I am the only army commander left in Bavaria, that, among other reasons I've already stated, is why I must stay. I will not leave Bavaria defended by a young man who has not even been knighted. Believe this or not.

If this Crusade is to be succesful the efforts on the home front are important as well. Crusaders will need florins, supplies and reinforcements. The defense of the Reich must be maintained. What use is taking Jerusalem if there is nothing to come home to? If I have sinned then I will seek forgiveness by rebuilding the war torn lands of Italy, and doing what I can to defend the Reich and Bavaria.

Again if you wish your proposal to succeed, sacrifice your own land, you will have Venice soon enough. I do not choose who recieves what, the Kaiser does. If you had served him better, perhaps you would have benefited more. Do you think your dramatic reversal of position right before the last Chancellor's election escaped my notice? Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone.

Don't threaten me your Grace, and don't invoke your brother the Prinz. He has voted against you in the Diet more often than I have. Even now, you stand against him in your opposition to 1.1.

I will find your silence most comforting.

Otto von Kassel

[GeneralHankerchief]

Rome, 1160
The Imperial Diet

It was well past midnight when the Diet building, also the Roman Senate building of old, had a live body in it once again. The building was now privy to the presence of its keeper, Kaiser Heinrich.

The old man, as he was now (un?)affectionately known by, was unable to sleep in his lavish palace and had decided to take a walk through the streets of his prize, the Reich's new capital of Rome. His post-midnight stroll had ended up at the site where the next Chancellor would be decided the following day.

The old man ascended to his usual podium, taking in the sights that were illuminated by the moonlight. All around him the chamber echoed with history. The Curia Julia, as it was known in ancient times, had been home to all the deliberations of the Roman Republic. Men such as Quintus, Augustus Verginius, Numerius Aureolus, and the entire Aemilii clan had stood in the same building that Kaiser Heinrich was in now. Upon the Empire's fall, it had been converted into a church, but when Heinrich had taken Rome in 1146 he immediately ordered the reconversion of the building to a legislative chamber in anticipation of the capital's move.

So, Heinrich thought to himself, tomorrow I drag my rear end back in here just to announce that Leopold has been elected Chancellor over Henry as well as a few edict results. And then it's happy retirement for this Kaiser, since I won't live to see another Diet session. Maybe that's for the best.

He absentmindedly made his way through the voting tally of the current session, straining his eyes to make out how his favored proposals were doing.

Hmm, not going my way, not going my way... too close to call, not going my way. Curses. Let's see how 6.2 is doing... "This Edict hereby instructs the Chancellor to have Kaiser Heinrich, reinforced with the full garrison of Rome, attack Pope Accattus so that the Reich may be reconciled more quickly." ...and, it's not going my way. Big surprise.

So the Diet wishes to take away the right that I have just won back for them. Why does it always turn out this way?

Pope Accattus of Portugal was the man that Heinrich had personally approved to succeed Gregory to the Papal Seat. However, he had betrayed the Kaiser by refusing to reconcile the Reich, and even besieging Rome and attacking Heinrich himself! Normally, this would be grounds for removal but it seemed as if the Diet was just fine with this continued period of excommunication.

These people don't seem to realize that the sooner Accattus dies, the sooner Otterbach comes in and the sooner we get reconciled.

Heinrich's mind was already working on how to get around this legality, since it seemed as if his edict that permitted the attacking of Accattus would fail.

Technically, we are in a period without a Chancellor, which means that, as Emperor, nobody is free to order troops in my jurisdiction around. I don't have much time to act since soon, the law will be set in stone that I am not allowed to attack this traitor of a Pope...

Still thinking, the Kaiser strode out of the empty chamber and once again walked in the streets of Rome. Although this time the walk had a purpose. The direction was towards the city's barracks.

[Ignoramus]

Tuttlingen, 1168

Ulrich Hümmel roughly dismounted his horse and threw the reins to his page. He frowned disapprovingly on the deplorable state of the inn.

"Are you sure that there are no other lodgings?" he asked his page. "This building isn't fit for even the schwein French, let alone the Prinz's son-in-law."

"I am afraid not, mein lord. However, I hear that this landlord's beer is good."

At the mention of beer, Ulrich's expression changed. "Very well, we shall halt here for the day."

Leaving the page to attend to the horses, Ulrich strolled toward's the rough building. It was obvious that it had been poorly constructed, and one look was enough to tell Ulrich that it was in a bad state of repair.

As Ulrich entered, the landlord hurried over to him. "Welcome, mein guest! Would you care for some Schinkenwurst?"

"Nein, danke. I have eaten my fair share of sausage today. A mug of beer would be in order, though."

As the landlord went off to his kitchen, Ulrich sat down at one of the tables.

A young man, bearing a Flemish complexion, slowly walked over to him.

"Good evening, mein freund. Where do you hail from?"

Ulrich studied the man closely before replying. "I am Ulrich Hümmel, the Sixth Elector of Swabia. You, I believe, are from Flandern?"

"Ja, that is correct. Mein name is Jan van Ghent; I fought against the French at Brugges."

The landlord returned with Ulrich's beer, and attended to another traveller.

"You fought against the French?" mused Ulrich, "Well, perhaps you could be kind enough to assist me."

"You need mein assistance, Herr Ulrich?" asked van Ghent.

"I am currently riding west to assist Count Jobst von Salza of the County of Burgundy in fighting the French. Herr Jobst is currently shut up in the city of Dijon, and a large French army surrounds it. Although an experienced campaigner, my battles have been chiefly against the rebels of Milan. I gained much experience under Count Sigismund der Stolze."

"Ah, Sigismund was a brilliant general! I have heard of his victories over those Italian rebels of yours."

"Ja," replied Ulrich bitterly, "and because of that those French schwein murdered him. But anyway, as I was saying, I have no experience of how to fight the French."

"You indeed have a tough task ahead of you. The King of France has many a brave Ritter at his banner, and as such you will need to stand repeatedly against his many charges."

"Ja, Ja, I know that. But how can I do that with the men that we have? Our militia are but poorly trained and ill-equiped to meet a cavalry charge. And as for our sergeants, I fear that even they cannot survive many charges unsupported."

"Have patience, mein freund. If you permit me to accompany you, I shall teach you what I know in time."

"Very well," said Ulrich as he rose, "you shall accompany me."

Jan rose and turned to leave the inn, "Good Night! I trust we shall meet tomorrow."

Ulrich sat deep in thought as the door closed. He was tired, and longed to retire to bed.

"Mein lord?"

Ulrich looked up. It was his page, Rupert.

"Ja, Rupert, what is it?" he asked

"The horses are stabled and have been fed. Are you finished with me for the night?" responded Rupert.

"Ja, you may go and rest. We must leave early. We have a long journey ahead of us."

As Rupert left to go to the stables, Ulrich called the landlord over to him.

"Landlord, here is a florin for the beer and tonight's lodging. I shall be leaving at dawn."

The landlord bowed. "Very gut, mein guest."

As he went to his room, Ulrich sighed. Today, he reflected, had been an interesting day.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Rome, 1168
The Imperial Palace

Pope Andreas is dead.

Kaiser Heinrich is dying.

Those two pieces of news had spread through the streets of Rome until nothing else was deemed worthy of discussing. These two events were quite related, which prompted even more chatter than normal. The Kaiser had sallied out of Rome some weeks ago, driving back the besieging army and killing the Pope in the process. There were even rumors that he was surrounded by ten or so Papal horsemen and had slain them all personally.

Whatever had happened in that battle, Heinrich had returned from the fields north of the city a changed man. He had sported nasty wounds all throughout his person; it's a miracle he wasn't killed. His complexion had turned much paler as well, and that combined with his white hair made him look something of a ghost.

The few times that Heinrich had been seen in public and the Diet since the last battle, he relied on an ornate walker to help him get around. Even then, it took him much longer to do things. His voice, before deep and rich with power and authority, had become wheezy and weak. His mental state was still there, struggling to complete his normal routine despite the injuries, but it was clear that the Kaiser was aware that his time was finally nearing, and if one looked closely, despair could be seen in Heinrich's eyes.

Finally, about a week ago, the Kaiser had stopped being seen in public. He was now spending all of his time in the comforts of his bed, aided by a few dedicated doctors that could really only watch as his condition deteriorated. Authority was delegated to his staff and advisors, but Heinrich still kept a close watch on the goings-on of his men.

Two days ago, the various members of the College of Cardinals had shuffled into the city to once again elect a new Pope. Some, upon hearing about the Kaiser's condition, had grinned.

"So, divine retribution strikes at last," said Froderigus of the Papal States to his entourage, commenting on Heinrich's state.

Finally, on the day of the Papal Election, Heinrich awoke with a high fever. He knew that his time had come.

Ringing the bell which had been provided should he need anything, the Kaiser addressed the first servant that had come rushing in.

"Send me *cough* my wife and Otterbach. The Anointing of the Sick must be administered."

Several minutes later, Betrada, Heinrich's wife arrived into the room, and was closely followed by Cardinal Charles Otterbach, who would soon stand for Pope.

So, these are the only two people that stand by and aid me as my time ends. No children or grandchildren. They all are off, estranged from me or too young to care. No friends or allied Electors, like Ludwig or Sigismund. They are all dead, and now I join them.

"Otterbach," he said, giving a smile to his wife, "Hold off on the Undulation for a little while. I need you to write."

"Mein Kaiser," said the female Cardinal, the same Cardinal whom a different Maximillian Mandorf had taken advantage of so many years ago, a bit shocked, "Your time is short and these matters are of grave importance. I must insist that the Undulation is performed poste-haste."

"Re*cough*lax, Otterbach, I've put off death for many years now; I can put it off for a few more minutes. As the man who appointed you as priest, I order you to write."

Reluctantly, Cardinal Otterbach picked up paper and quill, and began to transcribe what Heinrich dictated to her.

"Good Electors,

It is my regret that I leave you now after so much time on Earth. I depart with mixed emotions but no regrets. I only wish that more could have been done. Unfortunately, that task is now up to you and know that I will be with you always in seeing it done.

Regretfully, my condition prevents me from addressing certain Electors in person so I will now do so here. To the certain few that would have none of it, please, at least hear what this dying Kaiser has to say as a last request.

To Dietrich von Saxony: I apologize for never bothering to see your daughter and my grandchild that you informed me of many years ago. If you ever return from your crusade, please teach her who I was and what I stood for.

To Otto von Kassel: You disappoint me. No matter what you stood for, I wanted a friend and an ally. You were both, for a short period of time. However, when it became clear that I was on my way out in the world you threw our bond aside, forgetting all that I had done for you. While I can do nothing about you now, you will surely remember this betrayal sometime into the future.

To Leopold: May you continue to bring much glory to Austria and the Reich as Chancellor. With Hungary, Poland, and Venice still at war with us much hard times will befall your House. Know that you have my blessing in all of my endeavours.

To Prinz Henry: The crown is finally yours, my son. In due time you will recognize all of the finer points of being Kaiser, as well as appreciate your father more for what he has done. May your reign be long and prosperous, and may you continue to expand the Reich's glory.

To all of you, I realize that I leave you with enemies on all sides and within. The times ahead will be trying, but eventually we shall prevail. I leave you one last piece of advice, which you may heed if you like: Never stop fighting. France will fall, the enemies of the East be tamed, England repulsed. Even the Papacy, which some of you label as my greatest failure, will soon fall back into our hands. The fighting and sacrifices of our generations will bring peace and prosperity for the next thousand years.

Kaiser Heinrich"

Finally, once the Kaiser had finished, he allowed last rites to be performed. After Otterbach had completed them, Heinrich, breathing his last breaths, pulled the Cardinal in close.

"You must... be elected..." he said, struggling, "This must... end... For all of us... get elected... reconcile us... give the Prinz... room to move..."

Otterbach, tears in her eyes, nodded.

"Never... stop... fighting..."

The Kaiser slumped back into his bed, hand grasping his wife's. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before departing, leaving the Reich behind forever.



Kaiser Heinrich, before his death. Word spread quickly through the city about the Emperor's passing, possibly impacting the College of Cardinals' decision. Three hours later, in the Papal Election, the Cardinals elected Domingo the Warmonger of Spain to the Seat. The Reich continues to be excommunicated.

[econ21]

Croatia, 1170

Prince Henry walked through the camp at night. The dark air was chill, but the many fires provided convenient refuges of warmth and light during his wanderings.

The crusade was getting off to a slow start. The rearguard, which Duke Otto and Henry commanded, was still near Zagreb - waiting for the arrival of Henry’s son, Hans. Aside from one of the priests going wild and turning heretic, there had been little incident or excitement. It was as if the nearby hostile Venetian and Hungarian armies respected the crusaders zeal. Or more likely, thought Henry cynically, they were only too happy to see the better part of Germany’s armies march away as they, the invaders, marched in.

For if the crusade’s progress had been slow and calm, all hell had broken lose back home. Enemies without count, settlements besieged. And yet the Chancellor and the Emperor seemed to be holding up well enough so far. Henry smiled and shook his head as he recalled the account of his father’s most recent battle: another Pope slain; was there no stopping the man?

Henry looked up and saw a lone figure watching him by a tent. The figure was unarmed and apparently without armour, but was staring boldly at the Prince. Henry was disconcerted by this lack of etiquette - no man was supposed to meet the gaze of the Prince without bowing. Henry raised his shoulders, puffed out his chest and strode towards the figure.

“You there, who are you, Sir?” Henry demanded.

Only then did the lone figure bow, an extravagant low bow, with a flourish of his black cape:

“Dusan Kolar, your Highness. It is an honour to meet you.”

Etiquette re-established, Henry visibly deflated and had to struggle to find something meaningful to say:

“Ahh, good, a local I take it? What brings you here? Come to join the crusade, what? You don’t look much like a soldier or a camp follower. Not one of those monks or fanatics are you?”

The man smiled knowingly:

“The world is too full of monks and fanatics, is it not?”

Henry smiled back, conspiratorially. A year or two, he might have taken umbridge at such a lack of piety. He had prayed by the body of the murdered Pope Gregory, sought to nurture his own faith - to turn from an opportunistic supporter of peace with the Papacy to a position of principled devout support. He had sought to follow Maximillan Mandorf, in the Bavarian’s spiritual conversion. But what had it got him? Trial by inquisition, within months of arranging the burial of Gregory. Even his father Heinrich’s disposal of the latest Pope had stirred little inside Henry. All this, he thought, but dared not speak.

The man was watching Henry intently, as if understanding and then looked up at the stars.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Sire. I respect the spirituality of the monks and the fanatics. But their understanding is so … limited. They speak of heaven and foreswear worldly goods, but their vision is blinkered and their preoccupations are often with things of this earth. A crown, a mitre, an Empire, a Holy City… They do not take the time to stop and look up, to see how small they and their concerns are.”

Henry stared at the man. What the hell was the fellow doing, blathering on like this to him, the Prince? As if I don’t have better things to do! But the man continued, oblivious to the incredulity on Henry’s face:

“But you, your Highness, you are finally free, are you not?”

Free? What on God’s earth was this nutter talking about? Henry stared harshly at the man, who merely registered the Prince’s look and gave another extravagant bow:

“I see I have taken up too much of your time. Until we meet again, your Highness.”

Henry watched the man leave and then heard a commotion in the camp. Guards were rushing around until they spotted the Prince. A Bavarian knight ran forward to Henry and fell onto one knee, whispering in mournful reverence and profound awe:

“Grave news, your Highness: your father has passed away. The Emperor is dead, long live the Emperor!”

Henry felt as if he had been punched in the stomach and took a deep breath. Flustered, he looked around. The camp was awake and humming with excitement. Already he could see Duke Otto rushing to approach him. Henry tried to compose himself, a million things crowding in his mind at once. And yet one thing stood out above the rest: you are finally free, are you not?. Henry turned to the Bavarian knight:

“I have a special duty for you: there was a man here, just now. Dusan… Kolar, I think his name was. Find him and bring him to me. However, hard it is - just do it.”

[OverKnight]

Otto stared into the flames of a camp fire. The news of Kaiser Heinrich's death had reached the army earlier that day, it had cast a pall over the camp as night had fallen and it was eerily quiet. Otto could hear Elsebeth weeping from his tent, she was inconsolable and he had left her to her women after a few hours. He needed time for himself, to think, to process the news that had shaken him. So now he was seated in front of a fire, drinking from a flask of wine and going over the dire messages brought that day.

The Kaiser is dead, the new Pope is not our choice and refuses to negotiate with us, a huge Hungarian army is rampaging through northern Italy, Metz has rebelled to the French and Dijon, Venice, Vienna and Hamburg are besieged. Of course, on the positive side, the Kaiser killed another Pope before he shuffled off the mortal coil.

"Did he put in a good word for you, my lord?", asked Otto to the sky.

Taking a swig from the wine, Otto raised the flask, "A toast to the Kaiser, Heinrich Pope-Bane, a man of insurmountable will and equal stubbornness. The man who made me everything, everything, I am today."

Otto shook his head to clear the cobwebs. A disappointment, Otto thought, is what he called me on his death bed. I guess that means I am part of the family, if he's humiliating me publicly. "Friend and an ally"? Hah! If by friend he means servant, and by ally he means lickspittle, than yes that is what the Kaiser wanted. I fulfilled my end of the bargain, he got Rome and Gregory. That was the deal. I served him better than anyone else. Just because I wouldn't follow him into Hell itself by slaughtering the College of Cardinals doesn't mean I'm disloyal.

Otto thought back to the last Diet in Rome, when the Kaiser's armed guards had woken him up in the middle of the night to deliver an ultimatum. Yes, that is how one treats an ally and a son-in-law. If he knew me any better, He would have known that was the worst approach he could have taken. Perhaps if the Kaiser's allies hadn't dropped like flies, he would have had more.

Otto sighed, despite the Kaiser's failings, the Reich could use a man of his singular will at this point. There were enemies on all sides. Henry was a good man but Otto was worried about his approach to the Swabian succession. Von Salva as Prinz, Hummell as Duke and his own son to accompany him on Crusade. I do not doubt Henry's motives, but this could cause conflict among the Swabians. They might be at each other's throats while the French are at their doorstep.

Thinking of the grim situation at home, Otto wished he could return to help set things right. But I have taken the Cross, that is my duty now. I have helped bring this disaster on the Reich, and I must take Jerusalem to balance the scales.

Otto stood up and turned to face his tent. I must put my feelings aside. Elsebeth sees her father through a daughter's eyes and I will not disappoint her.

Shoulders slumped, and with a bit of a stagger, he walked into the tent to try to comfort his wife.

[Warluster]

In DIjon, 1168 AD.

boom
The ground shook in the Castle of Dijon, one of the servants staggered towards the New Prinz's Room,
boom
ANother rock hit the Castle, and screamign started outside. The servant toppled over but got up and knocked on the Prinz's door. It opened, but no one was seen. the Prinz was standing by one of the only windows in his chambers. The servant spoke up,
'is there anything you need sir?' he asked, the Prinz muttered something.
boom
The servant staggered but remained upright.
'Sir?'
'Give... Bring...bring me Heidindrudis, it is not safe outside' said Jobst, the servant scurried off, and left the prinz standing there in a breakign Castle.
THis is where it starts. The next stage of our great Reich's Historythought Jobst

boom
Heidindrudis, Jobst's wife came striding in, a smiled at Jobst,
'I was called, what is wrong?' she asked, Jobst made a motion which meant the servants were to leave, then bowed his head
'The French are...'
'yes?'
'so much stronger' finished Jobst, Heidindrudis storked his arm,
'We can fight back, remember what happened at AUstria, they beat them back time and time again' said Heidindrudis,
'But I am no great general, I do not think I am even great enough for this position of Prinz! Compared to the other great generals!' said The Prinz,
'Their time is over, it is the start of the next generation, you shall become great one day'
'I mourn for the old Kaiser' said Jobst
'We all do'
boom
'The my decision has been stated, we shall sally forth when Ulrich comes!
boom
The particular blast sent them sprawling, as if a answer to his queries.

[FactionHeir]

Late Winter 1169

Hans stood alone by the narrow window of the plain room that he had been allocated in one of the towers at Castle Zagreb. The winter landscape outside had been slowly but steadily melting away over the past weeks revealing the tender first grass of the imminent spring. To anyone who would have observed him gazing out the window, he would seem a youngish man who was admiring and appraising the change in seasons, but Hans was not one to be easily read. He was lost in thought - thoughts about what he had talked to his uncle, the Chancellor Duke Leopold, about.

Several weeks back, Leopold had approached Hans and asked him whether he would want to accompany and join him against the Hungarians that had recently invaded north of Castle Zagreb - an offer Hans was too eager and curious about to refuse, but ever since he had not heard from his uncle, he grew restless and pondered whether he should leave on his own or continue waiting for Leopold to arrive. It did not make matters easier that his father, the Prince turned Emperor, requested his attendance at the crusader camp - something Hans secretly wanted to put out of his mind, at least until he had seen, and felt, the concert of battle that he had read so much about in the dusty old tomes in the castle library at Zagreb and back in Swabia. Swabia. The thought of his birthplace made him shiver. Not because he felt an aversion to it, but because he had overheard the guards talk about the recent betrayal of Metz and the invasion of the French at Dijon. Hans knew that as the newly appointed Count of Bern, he had a duty to defend his county against aggressors, but he also knew that his lack of combat experience, as well as the time he would need to gather a considerable force and march it to Swabian lands, were against him. Experience, he thought to himself, that is what I need to gather quickly if I want to stand a chance against the enemies of the empire.

Just at this moment, the door slammed open. It did not startle Hans as much as it would have any other man, for he felt a familiar presence entering the chamber. He was proven right when he heard the welcoming voice of his uncle resonate from the walls.

Leopold, who feigned a cough to draw Hans attention, began to speak. "My son, word has reached me from your father." He had a sympathetic look on his face and remembered too well the vigour Hans had shown at the prospect of campaigning against the Hungarians. Leopold would have loved to grant him the wish.

"He requests that you join the Crusade immediatelly. The route to the Crusading Army is too dangerous to travel alone and I have to agree with your father. I have arranged for something to be prepared for you though. A parting gift. Should make the travel easier." He drew a deep breath. "Good luck, my son. Your father is proud of you and so am I, teach those heathens some manners when you arrive!"

Hans did not reply. His stare had become blank when the last sounds of his uncle's resonated through his mind. His hopes, all vanished this very one moment and he felt betrayed by the one man he felt he could entrust his life with.

Leopold, noticing how Hans did not move nor respond to his words sighed and turned to leave, taking a last look at his young nephew, possibly the last for many years, if not in his life.

Hans blinked. He stared the the last words on the paper he had just written.
I hope you understand my motivations,

Your dear son,

It took him a moment before he could bring himself to sign his name and fold the letter, before sealing it. He knew his father would not be happy about what he was about to do, but Hans knew that he had to do things his own way - at least this one time. He wondered whether Henry would understand or ride after him personally. The thought of the latter brought a wry smile to his tired young face. It had been a few months since Leopold had visited Hans and word had reached him that the present would arrive in the early hours of the morning. As he sealed the letter with hot wax, he knew he had sealed his fate at the same time. Things would not be the same anymore, but then he was no longer the child he used to be. He was now old enough to take up sword in the name of the empire and defend it to the last breath. Knowing this, he slowly walked towards his bed and fell on it, falling into a deep yet dreamless sleep for several hours.

"My lord!" Hans woke up to the constantly knocks and thuds and shouts outside his door. He stretched and tried to blink away the weariness of last night, while the servant outside continued to cause a commotion. Finally awake, Hans looke around and noticed that the candle had long since burned down and the servant had not entered because he had barred his door. Slowly and sleep-drunk, Hans walked to the door and lifted the heavy plank of wood off the iron holds. His head still hurt from the constant banging against his door, and standing right next to it did not help. As he finally opened the door, the servant almost hit his fist against Hans' chest, but stopped dangerously short of doing so. Out of his breath, the servant immediately bowed and asked for permission to speak, which Hans gave using a gesture of his hand.

"My lord, there are knights waiting down in the courtyard wishing your attendance. They only had me tell you they were sent by his highness the Duke of Austria." Hans nodded and dismissed the servant, again with a gesture of his hand, but not before advising him to inform the knights that he would be with them shortly. As the servant turned and sped down the stairs to obey Hans' orders, Hans grimaced and could not but smile to himself. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect. An entourage of knights is exactly what I needed to get through to Leopold without having to worry about bandits along the way. A most useful present to be true." With this in mind, Hans donned his chainmail that he had left in his personal chest at the foot of his bed and belted his sheathed sword. Before he followed into the footsteps of the servant, who had long since arrived by the knights, he absent-mindedly grabbed his helmet and tucked it under his arm.

The rays of sunlight almost hurt in his eyes. Hans had not left the solace of his chamber for at least a week, and it felt as if the sun wanted gaze at him with all its glory. He could barely make out the knights at the other end of the courtyard readying their weaponry and horses due to the reflections off their Imperial armour. Hans paced towards them with the dignity and confidence that is laid into the cradle of anyone of noble birth. One of the knights, most likely their captain, spoke a last few words to his comrades in arms before turning and walking toward Hans. The aged yet proud soldier stopped at about 6 meters distance from Hans, identifying himself as captain Adalberth, and that he had been ordered by Leopold to bring along an entourage of no less than 120 Teutonic knights and a handful of capable knights who would make up Hans' bodyguard. Hans however was only half-listening to the man's speech as he was again lost in his thoughts about the upcoming journey north towards Leopold's position. Adalberth had long since finished briefing Hans about the situation and was patiently waiting for him to give the order to depart, which Hans, realizing that he was not alone, gave immediately. Little did he know that Adalberth had been ordered to escort Hans not to Leopold but to Henry.

A few weeks had passed since the company of horsemen had left Castle Zagreb, which Hans did not turn to look back at when they departed the castle gate. He was never quite fond of that place, which had only fairly recently been captured by soldiers of the empire and was therefore not as organized nor homely as Staufen or Rome. It did not matter anymore however as he probably would not experience a more comfortable place for a long time. "Maybe not even in my lifetime?" he wondered to himself. His thoughts did not continue much further however as Adalberth had strode his horse next to his and announced that they would have to turn east at the upcoming road if they wanted to reach Leopold in time. A shortcut, as he not so eloquently explained. Hans however did not quite believe what Adalberth said, as he did not miss the opportunity to glance over the strategic maps of the eastern part of the empire after his last encounter with Leopold. His yearning for Hungary had taken every minute of his time for many weeks to study the paths he could travel, possibly even alone, to Leopold's probable campsites. The road ahead to the east was not one of them. In contrast, it led to Henry's camp.

Noticing how Hans' narrowed his eyes, Adalberth gulped. He immediately realized that his facade had been seen through and his true intentions discovered. He could not however afford to openly admit to them, as he did not know what kind of man Hans was. Even though he appeared young enough to be no more than an innocent boy, his gestures and behavior spoke otherwise. Hans was not one to blurt out what he thought of Adalberth and his plans, and as such, measuredly yet confidently informed the captain that they would continue north on the road ahead. The aged knight knew that as a man of low birth, he could not possibly contradict a noble, even one as young and inexperienced as Hans was, without risking incarceration, or worse, execution for treason, and thus nodded in silence, returning to the formation.

The road ahead was more or less uneventful, and days passed without any notable interferences, while Hans sought the captain's company to discuss stories of great battles and generals and satiate his thirst for knowledge. Adalberth could tell that Hans was becoming increasingly reastless as they closed in on Leopold's position. The young noble was forcing his horse to move faster and kept looking towards the sun that slowly descended down towards the road. Hans even insisted that they rise earlier in the mornings and ride until late into the night, without fear of bandits that may be on the look out for weary travellers. It was not until long that they could finally see towers and then tents cropping up on the horizon, which inspired Hans to a bright smile, while the shadows over Adalberth's eyes grew darker - the captain knew that the Chancellor would not take it lightly that he had failed his mission to bring the young prince to his father, but instead headed back to his camp.

Within minutes of being spotted by the watchtowers, guards at the camp started hurrying about like busy ants to announce the arrival of a company of knights and readied their weapons in case the knights were not what they seemed. Before Adalberth could bring his horse forward to speak to the nearest guards, Hans had already dismounted and sped forward - maybe it was even better that way the old knight thought to himself, as there would be a lot of explaining to do. Without wasting much time, Hans raised his hand towards the guard captain, openly displaying the signet ring of the House of Swabia, and motioning him to bring him post haste to his highness the Duke Leopold.

The moment the cloth of his tent parted to reveal his nephew Hans, Leopold's face showed both perplexion and joy. Joy, because Hans had decided to aid him in the siege of Budapest alongside several able knights, perplexed, because he had not expected him to show up after their last meeting and his direct orders for captain Adalberth. Adalberth! That man was supposed to lead Hans to Henry! Leopold noticed him behind Hans, but before he could scold the captain, his nephew had raised his hand and exclaimed:

"My dear uncle, it is good to see you" , Hans said, not without a smirk on his face "it surely must surprise you that against your orders I decided to join you here at your camp. As you may know, it is now too late to still turn me back, so you might as well use me for the upcoming battle." He grinned "Oh, and about captain Adalberth"Adalberth felt as if struck by lightning but could not bring out any word in his own defense "I request your permission to have him join my personal bodyguard. He is a capable knight and can teach me quite a bit more about combat, what say you?" Leopold had not expect Hans to speak this bluntly to him, but at the same time he was relived he would not have to go through all kinds of formalities when his mind was needed elsewhere. As such, he replied "I shall think about it Hans, but for now, let me brief you on the situation at hand..."



Co-op story with Ituralde

[Ituralde]

He could no longer lay it off. All these past months he had put it off his mind and shoved it back in to the farthest recesses of his mind. The youth had been clever arriving just with the first snow. He could not possibly send him away in the midst of Winter, and the young man knew it. He should have done it anyway, but he had done it before. How Captain Adalberth had failed to deliver him to his father was beyond him. He had to admit that young Hans had a knack with people. Even he had not been able to resist him.

Might as well make himself useful, if he's around. That's what he had thought, and that was the reason why he had involved him, and shown him around. Hans was still young but he was a fast learner. He had shown him the peculiarities you had to deal with in a siege. The provision of the men the lay out of a camp. To always be ready for the defense. Of course he had also talked about the Reich with the boy. It's current situation and the dangers that had to be taken in order to defend it on all fronts. He should have just sent him back the moment he arrived, but he couldn't force himself.

He knew that he had to talk to him though. That's why he now strode into the tent of the young man as if it belonged to him, which it actually did, just like back then in Zagreb castle.

"You know I will have to tell him eventually! I can't keep it from him forever. He will already be wondering why you haven't arrived. He's your father goddamnit!
I sent you to him but you wouldn't obey. You wouldn't obey his command or mine!"

He paced a few steps to and fro letting his mind wander, before Hans could respond though he continued: "I have recieved word from my informant in the city. He won't be able to open the gates in time. Now it's the hard work, like I told you. Build rams, build towers, ladders and knock down the walls, the old and bloody way. I could use your help, and I could use those Teutonic Knights I gave you. You don't have the time though. If you stay now for the siege you'll never make it to the Crusaders. They will be gone too far. Either you go now or you stay here, forever."

He looks Hans straight in the eye: "You were man enough to disobey our orders, now be man enough to make a decision. Stay or Go, but you will have to take the consequences!" And I will have to tell your father. He knew why he had put this off for so long. Angering the Emperor seemed to something he was good at.

Hans, taken aback by the harshness of his uncle's words, stumbled back a few steps and almost tripped over the log of wood he had been sitting on before Leopold had barged into the tent.
He had never expected to find his uncle this enervated and was not sure whether his question was just a trick to get him to leave on his own terms and be rid from the siege forever or whether he really meant it. He knew, however, that this was not the time to question the duke on that so he spent a few moments pondering, drops of sweat starting to form on his face as Leopold continued the stare.
Should I stay? He asked himself. He then thought of his father and wondered what would happen if he did not join him, support him. But he also knew that his father had brought men on foot as well, and he only had the small mounted entourage Leopold gave him.
Decisions, decisions. Just at this moment, he could feel Leopold wanting to burst out another sentence, possibly in anger, and thus he quickly answered, if not fully convinced, "Yes, my chancellor, I will stay for the siege."
In the back of his mind, however, the battle of emotions continued, and he knew he might have to sneak away from the camp to join his father, if Leopold would have him stay.

Leopolds anger seems to have subsided a little. After pacing some more he turns on Hans again and raises a finger, this time speaking a little softer though.
"Do not make this decision lightly. I heard your words well. Stay for the siege or stay? I will have to send your escort back to the Crusade as soon as possible. There is already uproar in the Diet. It will be hard enough explaining what has happened. If you stay now, you will stay in the Reich. I will not let you travel alone to join the Crusaders. Worse than keeping you from your father would be to get you killed and I don't intend to do this."

"I ask you once again. Go on the Crusade or stay in the Reich, the choice is yours."

Hans blinked a few times at Leopold's question. Am I that easy to see through he thought to himself. What am I to tell him? What will he think when I sneak away after the siege Hans looked at his feet for a moment. He wasn't sure whether he could confide his plan to his uncle - whether he would understand. Hans sighed. His father truly wanted him to follow the crusade eastwards, and who was he to disobey the emperor's orders? I have disobeyed him already by coming here he immediately realized, but it wasn't the same. One was temporary, the other would be permanent. He had to take a chance. Maybe the last chance in his life if it did not work out and he was captured by rebels on the long road. But he had to. It was in his blood, as it had been in Heinrich's. Steadily, he responded: "I will stay in the empire..."

Leopold gave his nephew one last intent look, before nodding curtly.
He seemed to have made up his mind and he didn't feel like there was anything he could do about. Without further words, he left the tent, making his way through the camp to his own. Already his mind was occupied by the formulations he would have to use to bring this news to his brother.



in cooperation with FactionHeir

[Ituralde]

A warm breeze hung in the air and the distant sounds of celebration could be heard. A smug smile on his face Leopold warmed his hand over the long fireplace in the Great Hall. Just yesterday the Hungarian dignitaries of Budapest had occupied this room. Probably contemplating the organization of the defense or the rationing of food. Now Chancellor Leopold, Duke of Austria had set up his temporary headquarters in the Council Chambers. He knew it would not be for long, but hopefully he could once return, if Emperor Henry recognized his deeds.

Withdrawing his hands he turned around to face the man that was waiting on him. Hans was standing across the room, his face still showing some of the vigours of the previous battle. "You fought well today, my son! Your father would have been proud of you. You have rightfully been knighted." He waited a moment to let his words sink in, before continuing.

"I will be leaving tomorrow. For Rome. The Diet demands an explanation why 120 Teutonic Knights were 'obducted' from the Crusade." He slowly shakes his head. "It still amazes me how they followed your orders instead of mine. Either way, I think it would be fitting if you accompanied me. This should give extra weight to my explanations. But don't be afraid, I will not cast your actions into an uneccessary bad light.
What do you say?"

"Thank you for the praise my duke" Hans responded, with a somewhat proud smile, trying not to sound too familiar to his uncle to avoid alienating the few other knights that were drinking beer at the far end of the hall. "I do not quite know why the knights disobeyed your orders, but I did spend a while pondering about it and have come to the conclusion that they could not possibly have abandoned me in the woods and ride all the way to my father with good conscience. Although... the crusade would aid them in repenting their sins, so they really would not have had to worry much now, would they?" he ended on a lighter note.

"I suppose that either way I am part of the problem that caused you much injury with the diet, so I will try to come up with a better explanation" he paused for a moment, considering his next words. "but maybe you would allow me to retreat to my tent and have a word with captain Adalberth to clarify the circumstances?" Hans looked at Leopold expectingly.

Leopold chuckled lightly: "You're sure right. Go ahead and consult with Captain Adalberth. I'll expect your response soon though. I'll be here for a few more hours."

Hans nodded at Leopold's words and bowed half-way before turning towards the large wooden door leading to the outside. He raised his right hand to both signal the guards to open the door as well as a gesture of farewell to his uncle as he strode out into the cold and clammy streets of the city.

Once outside, he noticed the men carrying the packed tents to the storage halls, as Leopold seemed to have given the order for all men to take up residence in the barracks. That could make things easier Hans thought to himself or maybe more difficult as he realized soldiers on the battlements igniting torches to prepare for the night guard. Now where would I find Adalberth.. he continued his thread of thought. Walking along the street absentmindedly, he realized that he was heading towards the barracks himself.
As he got closer, the guards saluted and held the door opened for the young noble to enter. Before Hans even reached the door, he could hear the clamor of festival and the stench of cheap wine and sweat. It disturbed him slightly, but he could not show his disgust openly for it was one of the few joys the simple folk had - it would only make his task more difficult if he did. "Guardsman, where is captain Adalberth?" he asked the soldier holding the door for him. "The captain is on the second floor, your illustriousness" the guard responded with correct ettiquette as Hans contently noted. Nodding to his words, Hans finally entered the barracks and headed up the creaking wooden stairs. Those stairs would truly be effective in announcing intruders he thought to himself while walking.

He did not have to search long for the wereabouts of the veteran soldier for he could already hear him give commands for the rest of the night to a pair of soldiers. Noticing Hans' approach, the aged captain quickly dismissed the men and turned towards him and spoke heartily "Well well, young count. I see you have returned for more stories, aye?" Hans couldn't but smile at the directness and familiarity of this man. "Indeed good captain, a story I have come for, but of a slightly different kind." Adalberth raised his eyebrows "Ah, really? Well then please join me in the comfort of my humble room, away from the many ears then." Motioning towards the chimney in the room, Aldalberth continued "So, what can I help you with this day? It has been a long battle and I may need to rest my old bones soon". Hans, closing the door behind him, replied with the same directness "Hmm do tell me why you disobeyed the duke-chancellor and escorted me to his camp..."

After a lengthy conversation, Hans rose from the stool and walked to the lectern, dipping a feather into the well of ink and writing on a note a letter. Adalberth looked at the young count and wondered what he was writing, and to whom, but of course it was not in his position to know everything about him, even though they had become fairly good friends during the past few weeks. A seemingly endless minutes later, Hans scattered some sand onto the letter, sealed it with wax and pressed his signet ring against the seal. Without turning, he spoke "Adalberth, friend, can I trust you with a matter?" Not knowing whether it was a trick question or not, the captain replied "My young count, I would hope that you could." "Please, just answer the question. It is important." Hans grew restless. The night had already advanced and Leopold surely would soon wonder why he still hadn't reported back to him. Just at this moment, Adalberth spoke "I..yes you can trust me" Hans was relieved. He could only hope that Adalbrth had spoken the truth. "I do not know how my uncle will react to this, but please, hand him this letter and tell him that I am sorry." Adalberth stared at him with some confusion. "Wh..why should you be sorry my count? You have done great deeds today in battle?" "Maybe so, but I shall have to leave this place tonight still and head to the east. My father will need me at his side when he faces the many heathens on his crusade." Adalberth finally began to understand why the young man had seemed so distressed these weeks, always lost in thoughts and very irritable. "The journey east will not be easy alone, my count. The teutons have already left two days ago and who knows what rebel scum hides in these woods. Are you sure you do not wish to talk to the duke about this?" Hans laughed, and with a sad expression, he told Adalberth "I wish he would understand, I really do, but he will insist I accompany him to Rome. Please do not press this matter my friend for time is running short and I must leave the city soon, before he notices my absence. Just do what I tasked you to, please" Adalberth nodded "Count Hans, please allow me to accomapny you then, as your personal bodyguard. I believe the duke will have be hung and quartered if he knew I disobeyed him again. Maybe I can atone for my sins by fighting against the heathens before I die... I could even help you get out of the city, for the night captain is a man from my home village." Hans did not know whether he should be happy or not, but he did not have much of a choice. He could not argue endlessly over this matter and only said "Well, then so it shall be. Ready your weapons and we will meet at the south gate shortly. Please do hurry." The grizzled soldier agreed and opened the door for him. Now who should I task with handing this letter to good Leopold he wondered, and immediately remembered a rather annoying young man from the spear regiment. Adalberth almost felt sorry for the lad, but someone had to bring the news to the duke...


in cooperation with FactionHeir

[OverKnight]

Bridge over the Morava River, 1174

The 240 mailed and Teutonic knights had just encamped near the western end of the bridge when a sentry gave warning, riders were coming from the east. Captain Lucas, the new commander of the detachment, looked past the bridge. Apprehension filled him, had the Hungarians already gotten their scent? Squinting at the banners of the incoming horsemen, he made out the gold eagle of the Reich and relief filled him. However, when he saw the standard of Bavaria next to the Imperial arms, anxiety sprang up again. He remembered the same standard when he had left the Crusade with Captain Adalberth and the others to go to Zagreb and bring the son of Kaiser Henry back to the army. That had been four years ago.

As the Bavarians galloped into the camp, a horseman made his way to Lucas. "Where is Adalberth?!", growled the man looking about, "I want to. . .talk to him!"

Lucas noticed the vivid scar winding down the right side of the rider's face. He knew now who this was, and began to wish the Hungarians had found him first.

"Duke von Kassel, what an honor. . .umm Adalberth has left the order to serve Count Hans. I am Sir Lucas, I was Adalberth's second, I command here now."

The horseman's gaze fell on Lucas, "Indeed? That would explain a great deal. Tell me Captain, is the boy here with you?"

Looking up, Lucas swallowed hard, "No my lord, he decided to stay for the assault on Budapest."

Otto's eyes narrowed and he swore loudly, "A pity, I wished to meet the Princeling, we have much to. . .discuss. So Captain, let me see if I understand, you and your men, a sworn brotherhood, failed to return to the Crusade and now that you have, you failed to bring the boy with you. Is that correct?"

"Your grace, Adalberth felt that the safety of Count Hans was paramount. . .he did not wish to go on the Crusade so. . ."

Otto cut off Lucas, "God's Blood! Then you brain him with the hilt of your sword, throw him over the saddle like a sack of wheat and follow your damn orders! Do you know the difficulties your tour of the Reich has caused the Crusade?! Here are 120 Teutonic Knights, the fiercest horsemen of the Reich, hundreds of miles away from the Kaiser's army, which lacks a cavalry screen while surrounded by Magyars!"

Lucas shrunk from Otto's onslaught, but managed to speak, "Hundreds of miles? The army hasn't come to meet us!? How are we to get to them?"

Otto leaned in over Lucas from the saddle while chuckling darkly, "By this time, Brother Lucas, the Crusade is in Thessaly. The Kaiser thought as you did and it took all my influence to convince the Council to follow my plan. I will not have our holy endeavor slowed by stragglers. They will continue on, and we will catch up. I have ways to motivate your men to great speed."

Otto glanced around the camp, "Get your men mounted, we leave as soon as they're ready."

Lucas's mouth dropped open, "But my lord, we just made camp, it will be night soon."

Otto's jaw clenched and he spoke harshly, "Get your men ready Lucas, or I will find someone who can. The path back to the Crusade is dangerous, and we will be travelling under cover of darkness to avoid our enemies. There is no more time for delay. If you can follow a teenager and whatever minstrel's tale he fogged your minds with, than you will most certainly do as I say."

With that the Duke of Bavaria reined in his horse and began trotting through the camp yelling orders.

Lucas, wishing he had remained in Budapest, went to gather his gear.

[GeneralHankerchief]

(OOC: This is a backstory of sorts to Conrad Salier, as well as an explanation to why he was absent in the Diet for such a long period of time. Written by TinCow and myself.)

Genoa, 1160

Conrad Salier, a young squire of Bavaria and member of Chancellor Maximillian Mandorf's escort, was travelling along with the rest of the men to Rome in order to attend the upcoming Imperial Diet session. This would most likely be the last Diet for Mandorf, who would be embarking upon a Crusade to Jerusalem along with several other esteemed Electors. Their stay in Genoa was just a rest stop, but it was an important one nonetheless. The city had become something of a target for pilgrims ever since Kaiser Heinrich had slaughtered Pope Gregory here six years before.

Young Salier was a deeply religious man and the recent actions taken by the Kaiser and his Duke, Otto von Kassel, had torn him inside between duty to Nation and duty to God. In this time, he also observed that Mandorf seemed to be experiencing the physical strain of managing the Reich as well as his own emotions. When Mandorf attended one of the many secret funerals for the late Pope, he seemed ready to crack and go mad at the end of it.

Thank you, Lord, for seeing fit to see Count Maximillian's Chancellorship through without any serious personal harm. Now that he is focused on one singular goal I believe that he - and I - may be able to serve you better.

Aside from attending Mass regularly, like a good Christian, Salier prayed alone regularly. After all, if he did not gain direction and guidance from God, then the only other options were those who could have been tainted by Satan.

Outside of Conrad's room for the night, another one of Mandorf's entourage knocked on the door. Conrad opened it and smiled. Staring at him was a friend, Sergeant Wolfgang.

"The Chancellor wishes to speak to you alone, Conrad."

Salier was a bit surprised. What could the Chancellor possibly want?

After being led down a series of hallways, Conrad and the others arrived at Maximillian Mandorf's study. The place's decoration could only be described as Spartan. The walls were sparsely adorned with crucifixes, and the chairs were straight-backed with absolutely no leeway. Two bookcases were present; one contained military material, maps, books on tactics and the like. The other held many works on Christianity, including several Bibles.

Mandorf was sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs, holding a map of Italy. When he looked up and saw that Conrad had arrived, and smiled. A motion of his hand dismissed his escort; it was now only he and Conrad.

"Welcome, Conrad Salier. Please have a seat."

Conrad did as he was told and sat in one of the chairs.

"I must ask you some questions that are rather more personal than polite conversation between gentlemen would allow. I apologize in advance if this causes you any offense. It is not my wish to pry, but I will be departing the Reich soon with the Crusade and I may never return. I simply must know these answers before I go. Where did you grow up?"

"Do not worry, Lord Mandorf," said Conrad. "I forgive you for asking. I wish I could say that I grew up in a noble house, surrounded by loving parents and lots of siblings, but that was not the case. Unfortunately, I never knew my family." Conrad did not seem uncomfortable in the least, as if he readily accepted this fact. "I was raised by the nuns, in an abbey in the mountains west of Nuremburg."

"I see," said Mandorf. "Did the ever speak about your parents?"

Conrad once again answered with little sign of discomfort. "The nuns discouraged me from discussing such affairs. They said that my parentage was unimportant, and that I was now to be a Child of God. Like a good, obedient child I did not pursue the matter."

Mandorf sat back, sighing and studying his young subject carefully. After several seconds, he spoke again. "Did anyone ever taken an unexpected interest in you when you were young? Perhaps a traveling priest who visited more often than he should? Perhaps a generous benefactor who aided you for no discernible reason? Has anyone ever asked you about your mother and father?" Mandorf smirked. "Well, other than me of course."

Finally Conrad was starting to show signs that he was thinking that this was a particularly odd conversation. Why was Mandorf asking him this? But still, he acted like a good Bavarian and answered his lord.

"Now that you mention it, Cardinal Otterbach, back when he was Father Otterbach, visited here a lot in between his Stettin Mission and other assignments. However, on the occasions that he did visit, we barely saw each other. It was almost as if he was avoiding me. It is strange that you ask me these things. When I came of age the nuns took me to a room that I had never been in before. Inside was a large pile of money that they said was mine to use for whatever purpose I wished. I had always found the military exploits of Kaiser Heinrich, Dietrich von Saxony, and the other great generals of the Reich fascinating so I bought some armor, learned how to fight, and joined up with you. I believe that the nuns were saddened to see me go yet for some reason knew that I would follow the path that I did. It's quite odd, really, but I never questioned it."

At the mention of Cardinal Otterbach's name, Mandorf glanced away sharply. He listened to Conrad's words, but was clearly deep in thought. Several long moments of uncomfortable silence passed before Mandorf spoke again.

"You are a good man, Conrad. I can see it in your face. You have a purity of spirit and a sense of purpose that most in this world lack. Yes. You are a true servant of Christ and a defender of Christendom."

Mandorf turned and looked Conrad Salier directly in the eye.

"I am proud to be your father."

It took several seconds for Conrad to grasp what had just been said. Finally, it clicked. My... what?

This could not be true. Maximillian Mandorf was a defender of Christendom, and a celebate one at that! There was no way... it was impossible...

Yet, at the same time, Conrad knew that Mandorf would not have summoned him to his study to make jokes. Suddenly sick to his stomach, he waited for his father to say more.

"I did not know for certain that this was true until our conversation today, but I have suspected it for several years. I regret not pursuing the matter further at an earlier stage in my life, but your heritage is a... difficult... subject for me. I have not always been the pious servant of Christ that I am now. In my youth I was corrupt and immoral. Yet, it seems now that even those proclivities may have had a higher purpose."

Mandorf smiled and nodded, unaware of Conrad's sudden nausea.

"Yes, it seems the Lord works in mysterious ways."

Conrad bored his eyes into the floor. This is not the conversation that he had in mind.

"You know," he said, not making eye contact with anything aside from the floor, I never asked about my parents, but I was still always curious. I figured that they were just some poor peasants that couldn't support me and had no choice but to give me up. I figured that the money was nothing but the generosity of the nuns."

Conrad finally looked up, staring his father in the face.

"But you, you were different! You had the means to keep me! You abandoned me! Whatever happened to 'Behold, children are a blessing from the Lord'? You keep me in the dark for all of these years, and now you finally tell me, now! Days before you leave the Reich forever! What am I supposed to say to that?!"

During Conrad's (deserved) tirade, Mandorf's smile had gradually been replaced by a look of sympathy. He tried to interrupt, but Conrad wasn't done.

"Tell me, are you even aware of who my mother is? Or were you just so full of concubines back before Hildegard came and saved your soul that you only have the choices narrowed down to five?!"

Mandorf's look of sympathy vanished and his face clouded.

"I am perfectly aware of who your mother is, as is she. However, that is not for me to say. Your mother has kept her identity hidden from you throughout your life for good reasons. She has sought to protect herself, but she has also protected you. If your parentage were to become public knowledge, it could destroy you both."

Conrad looked at Mandorf in disgust. It was only through his many years of training in the abbey that he managed not to do anything more.

"I said before that I was always curious about who my parents were," he said in a monotone. "Now, I wish I didn't know. I realize that this happened before you were saved, and I am not mad about that, but to know for all those years and not tell me! Even if you only had an inkling, you could have at least expanded upon it."

Mandorf sighed, sensing that the conversation was wrapping up.

"I regret that this relationship has begun when I am on the verge of departing for the Land of Christ. It is fitting penance for my past sins that I leave behind the only family I will ever have in order to serve the Lord. I will write to you while on Crusade, but I doubt it I shall live long enough to see the Reich again. Before I go, I would like to publicly acknowledge my parentage of you. You are a nobleman of true Bavarian blood, highborn in right as well as character. I hereby adopt you as my true son and heir and name you as the successor to my estates in Nuremburg. When I die, you shall inherit my titles and lands. If you have already earned your own by that point, you may choose how to dispose of Nuremburg for yourself. If Duke von Kassel permits it though, I would greatly wish for you to rule over Nuremburg after I am gone, and in turn to pass it down to your children. Nothing would make me happier than to be entombed in a great Cathedral in Nuremburg, with pious Christians of my blood forever protecting the city."

Conrad, finally calmed down, addressed Mandorf. "I sincerely wish that you complete your task and absolve yourself as well as the Reich while Crusading," he said. "In the meantime, I shall abide by your wishes pertaining to Nuremburg. I will try to be a better son to you than you were a father to me. Goodbye, Father, and good luck."

Both men got up to leave. As Mandorf departed, he turned to his son one last time, a grave look on his face.

"Beware of involvement with Kaiser Heinrich and the Papal conflict. There are things at work here that are greater than you know. If you find yourself leading an army against a Pope, especially a German Pope, you risk eternal damnation."

Mandorf bowed low, and then strode off. It was the last time Conrad Salier would ever see his father.

[GeneralHankerchief]

A monastery east of Milan, 1170

Conrad Salier arose from his bed very early in the morning, at the same time he had done nearly every day for the past ten years. His life was one of ritual and habit ever since that fateful night in 1160, when he was informed that his father was Maximillian Mandorf by Mandorf himself. While he had managed to keep his composure through that unpleasant conversation, the next few days were one large downward spiral.

Although by right he was a Bavarian Elector, he had skipped the Diet session, opting instead to hole himself up in several churches in Genoa and taking many long walks in the hills outside of the city. He missed the passage of all of the Electors heading north after the session had concluded, including the Crusaders. He was unaware of much during that time, with the thoughts of “MANDORF IS MY FATHER” being drilled into his brain constantly.

Eventually, he departed the city, mumbling and reciting old prayers. He trekked the northern part of the Italian Peninsula on foot, carrying no possessions aside from the clothes on his back and his Bible. He walked for days on end, barely stopping for food, water, or sleep. After forty days, he finally collapsed under the Italian sun, starving and incoherent. He was within sight of a large, ornate building, but at that point Conrad was in such bad shape that he assumed it was just a mountain.

Luckily, that building happened to be a monastery, and he was nursed back to health under the care of the monks that resided there. After some time, he decided to join them. The world out there is too complicated and too corrupted, he said to himself as justification. I am more likely to be a good Servant of God if I leave that world behind. And for ten years, he did.

Today, however, things were to be different. As he made his way down to the chapel for Lauds, he noticed that the monks were a bit more animated than usual. Apparently, someone of importance had arrived during the night. Once he had taken his seat, Conrad scoured the pews for a new face, but the only one he was not used to seeing seated was the abbot himself. A figure in fancy white robes had taken the pulpit in his place. Conrad made out the “guest preacher” to be Cardinal Charles Otterbach.

During the sermon, Conrad took an eager interest in the man who was nearly Pope. For once, the Cardinal seemed to be speaking with power and conviction, as compared to the other occasions Conrad had seen him preach, when he seemed nervous and not quite focused on the sermon. This time, however, Otterbach was eloquent and convincing. In addition, the Cardinal seemed to be staring right at Conrad for most of the time, as if the mass delivered was specifically aimed at him.

After the mass let out, Conrad was walking alone in a hallway to his study, when the Cardinal came out of nowhere and spoke to the surprised monk.

“Brother Conrad,” he said, “What did you think of the sermon?”

“It was excellent, Your Eminence,” Conrad said respectfully. “I must admit that it is refreshing to hear a different take on Scripture than the Abbot’s version.”

Otterbach laughed. “I regret that this is the only time you will hear a fresh voice at mass, at least, coming from my mouth. I am returning to the heartland of the Reich after my time in Rome, a short but eventful stay.” The Cardinal was referring to his giving Last Rites to Kaiser Heinrich and then the disastrous Papal election three hours later. “My time here was only an overnight stay. However, before I leave this place, I would be honored to hear your confession.”

Conrad gave the Cardinal a sad smile. “I am afraid you are out of luck, Cardinal. I gave it just last night, did my penance, and went right to sleep. The first things I have done since waking up were preparing for and attending Lauds, and now talking to you. I do not believe that I have sinned at all since I last confessed.”

Otterbach arched an eyebrow at this last comment. “Indeed? And there are no sins, older sins, that you have forgotten to mention in past confessions?”

“If there are, I am not aware of them. I have no reason to compromise my chances of eternal salvation.”

“I maintain that there have been things that you have forgotten. Every moment you spend in this place is a sin, Brother Conrad. Walk with me.” Conrad, slightly befuddled that a Cardinal, especially one so revered as Otterbach, would be denouncing a monastery, had no choice but to follow along.

“Conrad, Kaiser Heinrich is dead. The new Kaiser, Henry, is off on a Crusade along with much of the Reich’s senior leaders. Heinrich’s preferred choice of Pope, myself, did not win the Seat, so we are faced with a hostile Pope and almost no chance of reconciliation unless an Imperial Cardinal somehow manages to win. The four Houses, depleted both in manpower and leadership thanks to the Crusade, are being invaded by Venice, Poland, France, Milan, England, and Hungary. The last country is especially a threat. If they get past the Bavarian Household Army, then any Imperial city in Italy is ripe for the taking.”

All of this news had troubled Conrad. This is exactly what he wanted to leave behind. “Your Eminence, why are you telling me of all this? I, along with you, have left the material world behind.”

“Brother Conrad, I learned long ago not to restrict myself to spiritual matters,” said Otterbach smartly. “You are qualified to assist the Reich in these hard times, both by blood and by merit. But you ran here to shut yourself away forever the first time you heard something that you did not like.”

Conrad’s mood shifted from troubled to annoyed. “Cardinal Otterbach, with all due respect, you do not know what was said, how it affected-“

Otterbach cut the young monk off. “With all due respect, Brother Conrad, I know exactly what was said. Maximillian Mandorf told me when I traveled to Zagreb to give the Crusaders my blessing.”

Maximillian Mandorf. The mention of that name brought back the whirlwind of the old memories. His Spartan study. The ever-present smile on his face when he casually told Conrad the most sensitive thing possible. Those forty days wandering through Italy, half-insane.

Otterbach, either unaware of Conrad’s emotions or uncaring, continued. “He told me that he was acknowledging his parentage of you. He told me that he made you his heir. He told me that he was giving you a position in the Diet and his titles in Nuremburg! Why can you not accept who you are and take a position in the Reich’s nobility?”

Conrad, defiant, responded with a phrase that he had used to reassure himself that what he had done was right. “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” he said, using the same reading of Matthew that the late Cardinal Peter Scherer had used in Sigismund der Stolze’s funereal.

Otterbach seemed mildly amused. “Honor thy mother and thy father,” he fired back. “Don’t even try to win an argument against a Cardinal by quoting Scripture.”

Conrad, defeated, tried one last defense. “But I choose to have this life! I want nothing of the Reich or Nuremburg. All I wish to do is remain here in solitude.”

“Then that, Brother Conrad, is a sin. You may not realize it now, but you are being extremely selfish by remaining here. There are other ways that you can be a good Servant of God aside from staying in this place and watching your life waste away for nothing. I will have no more of this. Your penance is to leave this monastery immediately. I will inform the Abbot of your departure. You are to go to the Diet, introduce yourself, and apologize for your ten-year absence. Once that has been accomplished, you are to join Gerhard Steffin and the Bavarian Household Army, and assist them in the task of driving off the Hungarian invaders. Do you understand me?”

Conrad looked at the Cardinal with a sigh. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

Otterbach smiled. “Good, my son. May the rest of your life be fulfilling in more ways than one, Conrad Salier.”

Two hours later, Conrad Salier mounted an old brown horse and departed the monastery for the first time in ten years, heading south. He was finally ready to live up to his identity.

[OverKnight]

East Anglia, England, 1182

Cardinal Aston, called the Righteous, shivered in his private chambers. This winter was particularly harsh, or perhaps his age, 60, caused him to feel that way. The Cardinal stared at the letter before him, the man who had written him had quite the dark name among the priests of Europe.

Yet the offer was tempting, the schism between the Empire and Church had lasted longer than anyone had foreseen. Aston had heard that the the new Chancellor, the man who had written the letter before him, had made a massive offer for peace to the Pope. Yet it had been rejected. Aston wondered why Florence and 10,000 florins had been cast aside by the Holy Father. Still Aston had never understood Domingo when they were in the College of Cardinals together. He hated to admit it, but Aston had suffered from the sin of envy when the younger man had been elevated.

Before him on the table lay a way he could be the Pope. An offer that he should refuse out of hand, yet the current Pontiff was harming the Church by his stubbornness. The Empire was on a self-proclaimed Crusade to the Holy Land and had shown a willingness for atonement. The Kaiser himself had been found innocent of heresy by the Inquisition when he was a prince, and Aston had heard rumors that Henry had mourned Pope Gregory and assisted in his burial. Having defied the late Kaiser like that, the English Cardinal wondered if the sins of the father should be visited on the son. This should be considered.

Making a decision, the Cardinal called for ink and paper.


West of Hamburg

Captain Humphrey shook Wilhelmus Becker's hand.

"To be honest good sir, I had not thought an alliance to be possible. Until, of course, I received the letter from the King and the Cardinal. The florins don't hurt either I suppose."

Becker smiled, "Florins always help negotiations, Captain. But so does mutual need and the recognition of that fact. I wish you luck against the Danes."


Rome

Conrad Salier shook his head. Why was he being ordered by the Chancellor to oversee the building of a watchtower on the coast of Italy? The letter mentioned a need to keep an eye on the Milanese, but Conrad wasn't convinced. Something odd was going on. Still, orders were orders.

Only after the Count of Milan had left the city, did the Chancellor's messenger hand a second letter over to Captain Friedrich, the man left in charge of the Garrison. It was an order he had been expecting, yet Friedrich had no enthusiasm for it. Sighing, he began to issue orders for the troops to assemble.


South of Rome

The camp of Pope Filippus was centered around a small village church, which was now the seat of his Holiness. A guard ran into the church seeking the Pontiff.

"My lord, the sentries have spotted Imperial banners."

The Pope turned from his prayers, "They come to negotiate again? How long will it take those apostates to realise they must return Rome to me? Yet they mewl about Florence and florins. Once the Princes of Europe heed my call for a Crusade, then we will see them beg!"

Exiting the church, the Pope turned his gaze north, looking for the Imperial envoys.

There were banners, but behind them rose a large dust cloud raised by the marching of many men. The Reich had negotiated with the Pope for the last time.


Anatolia, East of the Hellespont

Chancellor Otto von Kassel stared into the flames of the camp fire. His plan was in motion, all that was left to do was to await damnation if he was wrong, or salvation if he was right. It was the greatest risk he had ever taken in his life. Only time would tell if it would succeed.

[Kagemusha]

Near Hellespontos 1182

Dietrich´s day was saved.Few letters from home had arrived and he was sitting on a rock and trying to read carefully. His eyesight wasnt what it was used to be and water filled his eyes as he tryed to make out the letters from the pergament. He tryed to to bring the letter closer to his eyes,but the letters remained blurry. For a moment he stared at the letter and hoped that his eyes could focus better,but to no avail.

He dropped the letters to his lap and scratched his head for a while.After that he raised his head and looking at the distance thought.

"Here i am in the middle of nowhere trying to read the news from home and cant even succeed in that simple task".

To Dietrich these letters were even more important then others, becouse he didnt receive too many these days to begin with. At the vanguard army of the crusade were besides him Count Von Mandorf and knight Von Mahren. While Mandorf had been busy with Reich´s politics and was constantly in contact towards home,the affairs of the two Franconians were something completely different. Dietrich had retired from public life and had even rejected to read some letters,becouse of their political nature. Mandorf had been thoughtfull and tryed to avoid discussing any topics concerning Reich and Dietrich had started to think that Mandorf might even be thinking that he had become bit wierd or atleast turning little bit senile.
Knight Von Mahrens actions didnt help much in that,since the young knight had isolated himself almost completely from others and spent most of his time alone wondering around the crusade,sometimes hunting,sometimes just riding around alone.

"Im sure that Mandorf thinks now that we Franconians are grazy. Old fool and young man who is acting like already dead man."

The decision to withdraw from public life and go to crusade at his advanced age hadnt been an easy one for Dietrich. Basicly no one had been happy about it. Not his political allies like Leopold,his counts,his wife and least his daughter. Grim smile passed on Dietrichs face when he remembered his wifes reaction about his decision.

"You fool! You stupid old kinight!How dare you abandon your family and Duchy and go to some quest when you dont even have a chance to reach its target!Abandoning your fragile wife and daughter who love you the most in this god forsaken world!"

Dietrich could easily still remember how furious Agnes had been before bursting into tears.It was easy to regognice who´s daughter she was.

"How much i miss them. I could give up my life for seeing my family even once more before the end."

Dietrich knew deep down that the worse thing about this crusade was that in matter of fact he wasnt even himself happy about beeing part of it.What was here for him in this journey? Salvation? Salvation from the sins committed by the old blood hound Kaiser?

"God have mercy on his soul in hell."

The old warhorse had really got us into trouble.Trouble so deep that even now that Henry was the Kaiser,it was like the old Kaiser´s ghost was still haunting the Reich and casting a shadow on Henry´s reign,becouse of the magnitude of the deed´s done by the old Kaiser. Dietrich was sure that those troubles would surely outlive Dietrich himself easily.

Dietrich woke up from his thoughts as his personal scribe adressed him.

"Sire, would you like to give answers to the new letters?"

Dietrich responded.

"Answer,yes answers. My good man i need you to read these letters so i can give answers, becouse without knowing the questions it is hard to answer them."

Scribe read the letters to Dietrich. One was from his wife and two others were from Steward Von Kastillien and Count Von Hamburg. Agnes had wrote a long letter about things at home.About Hedewigis,how she was growing up and how they both missed him. For Dietrich each of his wife´s letters felt heart braking and comforting at the same time. He knew that Agnes would take care of everything,but also the sorrow for beeing apart from her and Hedewigis made the old knight feel each time even older.
The letters from the steward and Count Hamburg were not good news.

Franconia was struggling to survive. Enemies harassed her now more then ever and the internal situation was far from good. As two of the power figures in Franconia had departed on the crusade, Franconia had been left vulnerable and also after a short while it seemed that the adopted brothers,Von Kastillien and Von Hamburg didnt come along too well.
Dietrich knew that the situation was bad and it was his fault that it had gone that way. It was Dietrich´s decision to abandon everything and take the cross. But it was others who suffered from it.
There was always the option to get back into politics,nothing could deny his right to take the leads once more,also there was the possibility to change the Steward,but then the current one would be disgruntled and would be against the politics of the new one.

"This is all my doing and it is my task to solve the situation. I have been avoiding my responsibilities for far too long.I have to do decisions to solve this situation,the sooner the better."

Dietrich nodded to himself and then sayed to the scribe.

"Let us start writing some letters. It seems we have some work to do."

[OverKnight]

Avignon, France, 1184

Pope Filippus was dead, and the College of Cardinals had convened to select the next Vicar of Christ. The Cardinals, over objections of the Imperial delegation, had decided to meet in this small French city rather than Rome. The fate of the previous four Popes, all meeting their ends in Italy, had made this seem a prudent course of action.

The candidates for elevation:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

It was an interesting situation. Cardinal Herden had the votes of his fellow Imperial clergy at his disposal, but his Empire was excommunicated and at war with many of the other Catholic nations.

Cardinal Aston was the most respected of the Preferati, but there were no other English Cardinals to support him. He had seniority but little clout.

Cardinal Frederik was considered a favorite by many, he had support within his own faction, but not as much as those of the Reich. The Danes hungered to elevate another Pope after the fall of Andreas, killed in Kaiser Heinrich's last battle.

The Venetians, though favored by the Church with three Cardinals, had none among the Preferati. Their votes would be influential, and most likely go against the Empire. Sicily had two votes, and many wondered, that without a candidate of their own, if they would support Cardinal Herden. The Hungarians and the Papal States, an entity that currently only existed on paper, each had one vote. Their Cardinals would most likely vote for anyone but the Imperial candidate.

The College gathered in Avignon's Cathedral to reach a decision. The faithful outside waited for the puff of white smoke from the chimney of the rectory, produced by the burning of the counted ballots, that would indicate the elevation of a new Pope.

to be continued

[OverKnight]

Part II

Cardinal Herden sighed as he listened to the sermon in the Cathedral before the Papal conclave officially began. Usually the rituals of the Church were of great comfort to him, but not today. Typically, the sermon given before the conclave concerned the challenges facing the Church, and a zealous French priest, one of the hosts, was railing against the Empire. If he was to be believed, the Reich was the dominion of the Beast, it's Kaiser the anti-Christ and the end of days was approaching. The priest wanted a Pope to be elected who would immediately call a Crusade to liberate Rome from the clutches of Satan.

Of course, Herden wryly thought to himself, the priest failed to mention that the French had attacked the Empire four years before the second investiture crisis. Still, it was to be expected. Looking around at his fellow Cardinals and their attendants, he noticed several of them nodding in agreement. That was not a good sign. Herden hoped the Chancellor knew what he was doing.

It was Otterbach, his fellow Imperial Cardinal, who had approached him first with the proposal from the Chancellor. Herden was not surprised, Charles had always possessed a keen political eye, and his defeat in the last Papal conclave had incensed him, pushing him further into the pro-Imperial camp. Herden remembered that a whispering campaign had been started against Otterbach by Domingo, the future Filippus, or so it was rumored. Gossip had arisen that Charles was a eunuch, of all things, and therefore unfit to be Pontiff. When Herden had informed Charles, he had been angry and asked if any other accusations were being mentioned. Having been told no, he replied, "If that's the worst they say, let them talk."

When Filippus had died, it was rumored that his former opponent had offered a prayer of thanksgiving.

Still Otterbach had been defeated and now he had proposed a plan to Herden, who stood for the Papacy himself. It required that Herden abandon his own candidacy, a sacrifice, but he was practical enough to realize that it was most likely doomed anyway. Still, the plan required a level of subterfuge he found distasteful. Yet if the Reich was to be reconciled, and of course his chances of attaining the throne of Peter in the future revived, it was necessary. It didn't hurt that the Chancellor had promised to advance the military career of the grand-nephew of his departed mentor, Peter Scherer.

The sermon ended, and with the invocation "Extra Omnes", everyone who was not a Cardinal or one of their attendants was ushered out of the Cathedral. The conclave had begun. It was time for Cardinal Herden to play his part.

Wait for him to come to you, Otterbach had advised him. Sure enough, an hour into the conclave, Herden was approached by Cardinal Frederik the Missionary.

"Karl, by God, it is good to see you again. I am sorry about the change of venue, but some of our brothers felt safer here."

Herden put on his best smile and replied, "Of course Frederik, we must not let temporal concerns intrude on our holy task."

The Danish Cardinal nodded in agreement, "Yes, exactly, quite astute. You must understand that the conditions that compel us not to meet in Rome, also imperil your own candidacy."

Herden maintained his smile with great effort, "I am aware of this Frederik, but I feel compelled to continue. I may be the only candidate who could ease the spiritual suffering of my people."

"Of course, your concern for your flock is to your credit. What if I was to tell you that if I was to be elevated, I would accept the penance of the Reich, in the name of our Lord, that our dear departed Filippus refused. There would be peace, and of course reconciliation with the Church after further signs of atonement."

"I would be intrigued", Herden responded, trying to fake interest, "If indeed another candidate could care for my flock better than I, I would be a fool not to elevate him to a position where he could do so."

The Imperial Cardinal could see the gleam of ambition alight in the other Cardinal's eyes as he replied, "Yes, it would be foolish not to support that candidate. Do we have an understanding, Karl?"

In response, Cardinal Herden, sacrificing his candidacy and his pride, took the hand of Cardinal Frederik and kissed his ring. Offering a silent prayer for forgiveness, he tried to make the gesture as ostentatious as possible.

The Danish Cardinal, well satisfied with the show of subservience, passed on to other possible supporters after a few pleasantries.

Sparing a quick glance around him, Herden could see the Venetian delegation staring at him. Their gaze then followed the departed Dane. They quickly fell back into an animated discussion.

If Charles is right, Herden thought to himself, the Venetians, lacking a candidate themselves, will want to be the power behind the throne. They can hardly be that if it looks like the Danes are beholden to us. It's a good thing the voting is by secret ballot.

As if to confirm his thoughts, the Venetians moved over to speak with Cardinal Aston. The poor man had been left alone up until now, but as the day wore on he became quite popular.

The election only took one ballot:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

As the ballots burned in the hearth of the rectory, white smoke poured forth from the chimney, proclaiming the new Pope, Lanbertus of England.


Epilogue

South of Nicea

Otto von Kassel smiled, the message about Aston's elevation had reached him as he was sorting through the final orders for the attack on the Egyptians.

I hope Pope Lanbertus is a man of his word, thought Otto, and more upright than some of his fellows.

With Cardinals on the mind, Otto's thoughts turned to the Imperial clergy. It's odd, with Herden I needed to have a family friend promoted and speak to his ambition to gain his cooperation. All that I needed to do for Otterbach was to promise that Count Salier would not take part in an attack on Filippus. I know he was raised in a nunnery, but for a Cardinal to take such personal interest in one man's soul is peculiar.

Shaking his head, Otto's thoughts turned to the attack, I've done all I can, now I wait. I best get to the task at hand.

Otto motioned over a messenger.

"Tell Duke von Saxony he may attack, and may God aid him in his battle."

Of course, Otto thought, God helps those, who help themselves.

[Ignoramus]

Metz, 1180

"Ulrich Hummel, Duke of Swabia, Elector of the Reich.

To Otto von Kassel, Chancellor of the Reich, Duke of Bavaria, Elector of the Reich.

Mein Chancellor, it is with great difficulty that I profess my loyalty to you. You have flagrantly disregarded the interests of mein Duchy. Here I am with all these Swabians, to be willing to be content with cowering behind our walls and repelling these Franks. Our lands are constantly pillaged, plundered, and desolated. The city of Dijon is crowded with homeless peasants whose homes have been destroyed by the French. Prinz Jobst is scarcely able to maintain order in the city due to their uproar.

And what, may I ask of you, are you concerned about? Italy? The east? Bah, may I remind you that there are many men in Swabia who are now questioning your leadership. And not yours only, they are also beginning to doubt the wisdom of the Diet to invest the leadership of the Reich to such a man as you.

I warn you to reconsider your actions carefully; there are those who would be not afraid to reject one who is off in the east.

Written in Metz, in the year of our Lord, 1080."


"Duke Hummel,

You had the opportunity to address the needs of Swabia during the past Diet session. You and some of your fellow Swabians did not, that is not my fault.

With all respect, Duke, if you bothered to view the election results, you would see that the Diet has given me a mandate for my goals, not yours.

I agree Swabia has endured much, but so have the other Duchies of the Reich. I will take steps to address the unrest in Dijon. I will make sure that your Duchy is well guarded against the French, but that is all I can do at the moment. Peace and reconciliation with the Church is my priority, all other goals are secondary.

I would ask that you consider your own actions carefully. The Kaiser, who is with me in the east I must remind you, appointed you Duke. It would be a shame if he came to regret his decision.

Look to the defense of your realm, my Lord, and remember your oath of fealty to the Kaiser and all shall be well.

Chancellor von Kassel"

[Ignoramus]

Rheims, 1186

"Mein Gott! So that's their game, is it?" sighed Ulrich, as he read the lastest dispatch from the Imperial Diet.

It had looked so promising. After marching across the border into Champagne, Ulrich and the depleted Swabian army had reached the city of Rhiems. It was an impressive sight, surrounded by thick stone walls, flanked by towers. After blockading the city's four main gates, Ulrich was hopeful that the fate of the city was now sealed. Reports had filtered through the camp that though the city was well supplied, the French had but a weak garrision quartered here. After setting his engineers to construct siege equipment, Ulrich was confident that an brief assault would carry the city.

But then the besiegers became the besieged. After surveying his men, a party of horsemen rushed back towards the Duke.

"Mein lord Duke, the French are here!" shouted the leader, Rupert von Hapsburg, a knight from the Tyrol.

Ulrich turned with a start. He had not counted on another French army in the vicinity of Rheims. Was not a large army already besieging Dijon? Quickly regaining his composure, Ulrich signalled the men to come to his tent.

Once they had entered, Ulrich began to question them.

"Where are the French camped?" he began, "How many men do you estimate march under the Fleur de lis?"

"They are but four miles distant, mein Duke." answered Rupert. "Herr Lothar and I reckon that they are over 700 men strong, though we had difficulty in concealing ourselves from the French sentries."

"You have done well, gut ritters." replied Ulrich, "You have the gratitude of your Duke and Swabia"

As the knights exited Ulrich's tent, a page bowed before entering. When he entered he silently handed Ulrich a missive bearing the unmistakeable seal of the Imperial Diet.

A discreet cough interrupted his train of thought. As Ulrich looked up, he saw Jan van Ghent, his Flemish military advisor.

"They have forced mein hand; I must pull back. Those fools in the Diet care more about following rules, rather than serving the Reich. I have just heard that they will call upon mein men to desert, unless I withdraw. Mein men would remain loyal, but I cannot lead them into a life of inglorious exile.

Besides, there are the French to consider. They have now surrounded us. Regardless of mein actions, I shall have to fight mein way out of thier encirclement. The losses will be heavy, but I trust that on this field we will deal them such a blow that will break the spirit of all those who swear loyalty to the French King.

But the further insult comes unabated. They now demand my abdication as Duke of Swabia. For what? For marching across a border of our enemies? I have little pride left this day, for they have trampled Swabia into the dirt."

"Your course is decided? asked van Ghent, "What shall you do, and where shall you go?"

"I shall take a loyal band of Swabians with me to the Holy Land. Perhaps there I can make a name for myself, but I cannot remain in Swabia as a disgraced knight, though it was unjustly deserved."

"Very well, I shall go with you!" exclaimed van Ghent, "But first, we have a French army to scatter."

Ulrich smiled and buckled on his sword.

[Kagemusha]

Peace

It was a a quiet evening in the crusader camp. Dietrich was sitting alone on his camp stool outside of his tent,watching how a warm breeze from the Mediterranian Sea shook the grass and little trees on the small hill his tent was positioned. The warm breeze felt good on Dietrich´s old wrinkled skin. He liked the Southern weather, but maybe it was just the aging that made him like more hospital enviroment of the Mediterranian.
Dietrich sipped some red wine from a cup he was holding and took a look on the surrounding camp. To the smaller tents of pilgrims on the outskirts of the camp,going through the larger individual tents showing where Counts and Knights had their spots on this huge war camp stopping in the end to an single huge tent in the middle of the camp, the Kaiser Henry´s tent with its bright Imperial colours and swarm of soldiers,messengers and scribes besieging it.
Dietrich was happy that Henry was with them. He liked the Kaiser very much and had many times wondered how different the father and son were. Where Heinrich had been an autocrat and very jealous of his personal power, Henry was more kind,calm and was more of an mediator as Kaiser. Maybe some felt that the good character of Henry was sign of weakness,but Dietrich didnt agree on such opinions.
For him fighting together with Henry had been a real honour,commanding the right wing of the army was position of great honour. Dietrich had witnessed also the commanding abilities of Kaiser in that battle and he was pleased on what he had seen.Dietrich thought.

"I hope that the Kaiser will be safe and one day will return to the Reich. Under his leadership and bit of luck,the reich could be heading towards a golden age."

Dietrich streched his legs on the camp stool a bit and continued thinking about the current situation. One man had completely suprised him in the last few years.That man was Chancellor Von Kassel.

"In the end of the reign of Kaiser Heinrich i became to think that Von Kassel was nothing but an upstart who was ready to betray anyone or anything to climb the latters towards larger power. Now this man has completely suprised us when he finally got the power´s of Chancellor. Nothing pleases me more then that we are now back on the lap of mother church. I think that this huge effort made by Von Kassel will turn us once more towards more peacefull times.Unfortunately im not sure that i will witness that time"

During the last battle something had happened. At the middle of the fight when Dietrich and his knights were charging on the right wing,suddenly when Dietrich was gallopping towards the enemy, a swift pain had crossed the left side of Dietrichs body. First he had thought that he had been hit by an arrow,but soon he realized that the pain was coming from inside. Dietrich had crashed on the enemy,but for a moment he couldnt bare even the weight of his shield and he had thrown it to the ground. Soon his veterans had surrounded him,becouse they had thought that the Duke was wounded,but as the pain gave away, Dietrich had commanded his men forward.
When the battle had ended and Dietrich had undressed his armour he felt like his whole body was covered on cold sweat. At that moment he understood that the Lord had told him that soon his time on this earth would be over.
Dietrich had acted like nothing had happened,but his close men knew something was wrong. Maybe becouse of their respect towards their leader they had not bothered asking questions, in which they knew they would have not gotten answers anyway.

As months had passed,Dietrich had felt how his stength started to vanish,little by little. He still could walk and do normal things,but as the time passed he was getting slower and slower. The kingdom of heaven was coming closer and closer towards old Dietrich.
As he sat on his camp stool in the diminishing light of the evening,his thoughts turned into Franconia. To the dark forests and hills covered on morning mist. To the shores of the wild northern sea. Oh how he missed his land,the land he wouldnt see anymore. As the last rays of sun disappeared behind the horizon,the old knight raised slowly from his seat and walked to his tent. A page came inside and offered Dietrich´s evening meal. Tasty roast with bread and some more wine. When Dietrich was finished with his suppers and the page had cleared the table,Dietrich opened an scroll.

"I have been avoiding this decision for far too long.Well now the decision is made.I hope its the right one."

Dietrich thought as he casted his seal ring on hot red wax and pushed the mark of the Duke of Franconia on the pergament.
For a while Dietrich just sat there looking at the scroll.Then he wrapped it up and placed on the draw where he put all his letters and documents that were to be dispatched. Dietrich tasted the last few drops from his wine glass and then undressed and layed down to his bed. With his eyes closed he prayed a silent prayer.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. "

During the last sentences of the prayers,Dietrich felt like he was getting lighter. He saw his family, the faces of his wife and daughter smiling to him,he saw how light was starting to shine around their faces and with silent voice Dietrich sayed.

"Im coming home."

[OverKnight]

A letter written to Gunther of Eichstadt from Chancellor Otto von Kassel in 1190

Gunther,

You have done well in the Diet, my Chancellorship would not be possible without you serving as my liaison. I hope you have passed on my call for more nobles to come to Outremer. Even when the Crusade ends, the Reich must remain here in the Holy Land. The Church will need us as their protector from the infidel. The Papacy reigns supreme in spiritual matters, but they will need our assistance in their temporal defence.

That is how the special relationship between Empire and Church began you see. Pope Leo needed a protector from the Lombards, Charlemagne assisted him, and so was made Emperor, putting him above all the other sovereigns of Europe. This balance held for many years, but as the threat receded, the Papacy sought more temporal power, secure in their support from the other Catholic nations of Europe. Soon enough, as the Empire weakened and the Church gained in strength, we lost our role as the protector. Other nations vied for it, and the Church began interfering in the succession of the Reich and picking away at our lands in Italy. The delicate balance between the two fell apart, as the Popes would not keep to their proper sphere.

This led to the investiture crisis. The Papacy tried to become a Kingdom of Earth as well as Heaven. As we had once helped choose the Pope, they tried to choose the Emperor. Kaiser Heinrich, to his credit, sought to restore the old balance, to return the Popes to the spiritual realm. Unfortunately he did so with brute force, and I was young, prideful and greedy enough to help. Our long night under interdiction showed me the error of my ways. Yes, we did eventually reconcile but how could we make sure this would never happen again? There had to be a different, more subtle way to restore the balance. Yet if we gave them territories in Europe, they would always have the other Catholic realms to call upon. Our role as protector in return for primacy among the nations would never be guaranteed.

So we come to the Holy Land. We will give the Pope Jerusalem, and we ourselves will take the rest of Palestine and the Levant. We will be the protectors again, the shield against the Saracen, first among the Catholic nations, first in the favor of God and Church. And there will be no one else for the Popes to turn to for protection, no one else to play us off against, for we are the only Catholic presence in this heathen land. The balance will be restored, and so it will stay. The Popes will pray, we will fight and all will be well under Heaven.

Give my best to your lovely wife,

Otto

[GeneralHankerchief]

Rome, 1192

Conrad Salier snapped up the latest reports on the Crusade. The governor of the Reich's capital had been little more than an administrator for the past years, but he didn't mind. Work, he learned, could be delegated rather easily. And unlike in battle, if someone screwed up, the consequences didn't put everyone's lives in danger.

After telling an adept young fellow, Fritz von something or other (Conrad would have to try harder to learn names) to appoint a committee to inspect the condition of the ancient Roman aqueducts in the city, Conrad turned to the Crusade reports.

"Two large Jihad armies beaten back, the Crusaders have reached the Levant, excellent, excellent." Conrad flipped the paper to the back and read the next report (having spent most of life around nuns and monks, he was quite literate). His expression quickly clouded.

“Duke von Saxony has died. Unbelievable. What a loss.”

Dietrich was the kind of man who seemed immortal. He was supposed to live forever, fading into obscurity, enjoying the better life that he helped create. Instead, the Lord had seen fit to end his life with his greatest objective, Jerusalem, in sight.

The Lord does work in mysterious ways, Conrad thought with a chuckle as he mulled over the Duke –no, former Duke- of Franconia’s accomplishments. And there were many. He really seemed to come into prominence during the first years of Kaiser Heinrich’s Chancellorship, when the Reich had been at its lowest point. There were many records of his brilliant victory at Hamburg and subsequent marriage to the Kaiser’s daughter, propelling him to Dukedom in what amounted to an amazing rise.

Unfortunately, he fell just as quickly when he got into a relatively minor argument with Heinrich. The hot-tempered Kaiser took offense at what he saw as disloyalty (he had, after all, given him a title and a wife) and sentenced Dietrich to watchtower duty for a number of years. For that time, von Saxony’s name was dirt in the Diet.

However, time passed and Dietrich eventually returned to the Diet, a more mature man. He came back into favor with the Diet quickly with more stunning victories against the Poles, and became known as a voice of reason and an “old warhorse” up to the very day of his death.

“He will definitely be missed.” More missed than most of the Reich would suspect, if Maximillian Mandorf’s letters were not exaggerating. Conrad’s father had recently been fearful of the company that Kaiser Henry kept. Maximillian spoke of a Pagan magician, evidently the same man that the Kaiser picked up in the Balkans, who was exercising his influence over Henry daily. The most recent letter from Mandorf gave the inclination that the Steward of Bavaria now had the same opinion of Kaiser Henry as he did the Kaiser’s father.

I worry for the future of the Reich if its leader becomes less pious while embarking on a journey to save his country’s soul, the last letter had concluded. After ominous news such as that, Conrad was glad to be back in Rome. There was little point on going on a Crusade if it was tainted.

“And so,” Conrad said to himself, “I shall stay in Rome for the time being, and continue to be a prepared leader.” For, even in these times, the monsters of unrest and disaster lurked below the surface of prosperity. It would only be a matter of time before a large enough monster broke the surface.