Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[econ21]

The bridge to Edessa, 1220 AD

Elberhard strode into the officer’s mess and clapped Kurt Altman on the shoulder:

“So, you old @#$%^&!!!, you’re finally going to get a chance to rip those @#$%^&!!!s at Edessa a new @#$%^&!!!, eh?!?”

Kurt looked round at the young prince with the pained expression of Ernest, Henry’s guard dog, being tormented by an irritatingly energetic young puppy.

“Master Elberhard,” Kurt touched his forehead in deference. “Your father has not confided his plans in me, you’d best be talking to him yourself.”

Elberhard turned round a chair and sat astride it, grabbing a leg of mutton from the table.

“Oh, @#$%^&!!! The old @#$%^&!!!’s not going all quiet and mysterious again is he?” Elberhard groaned, in an exaggerated world weary drawl.

Kurt gritted his teeth. “I am not sure as I rightly know to what you are referring to, young Master.”

Elberhard guffawed, spraying half digested mutton over the table. “Don’t @#$%^&!!! me, Kurt! You know what they say: you can’t @#$%^&!!! a @#$%^&!!!er! That @#$%^&!!! Kolar, that’s what I’m @#$%^&!!!ing referring to, as if you did not know."

Kurt stolidly munched on his food in silence, not giving anything away. Elberhard eyed him up carefully and continued:

"Man, he was one sly, smart son of a @#$%^&!!! Plans within plans, schemes and cons played out over decades. And yet, you know what the strange thing is? All he ever did, he did for the Reich. You may question his methods, but the old @#$%^&!!!er was our @#$%^&!!!er.”

Then, lightly, like a puppy tiring of a reluctant adult playmate, Elberhard sprang up and looked about, as if ready to leave:

“Got any women, here, Kurt?”

“What?” blurted out Kurt in shock, then quickly, “I am sorry, Sir, what did you say?”

“Oh, I forgot, you all think you are still on a @#$%^&!!!ing crusade to save Christendom, don’t you?” Elberhard laughed. “Pity you had to send Dirk away - he was the only one of you @#$%^&!!!ers who was any fun!”

With that, Elberhard threw the half-eaten leg of mutton on the table and strode off in search of his father.

Kurt looked gave a wry smile to the earnest Teuton sitting next to him: “Thank God they elected the other son.”

*****

Henry was finishing the last part of his letter to King Otto:

…I am far from convinced we should press the attack on Edessa in the face of the approach of the Mongols. The city is formidably garrisoned and will require a full army to garrison due to religious differences.

Everything seems to hinge on Damascus. While the Egyptian fortress at Gaza might seem to threaten Acre, Jerusalem may act as a protective buffer. During my term in office, small Egyptian forces crossed Jerusalem province en route for Damascus. More importantly, the Mongols are heading there. If unchecked, I believe they will then move on to Jerusalem.

For this reason, I do not believe we will have the option of fighting them from the safety of our walls. Rather I think we should use the short time we both have on this earth, and our ability as night fighters, to thin the Mongol horde down so that when the crusade arrives at Damascus, the odds will be in their favour.

…

Elberhard walked into the Kaiser’s tent and coughed awkwardly. Henry looked up at his second son, carefully scrutinising his every feature and mannerism: such unpromising material, so unlike his brother. Where Hans was quiet and contemplative, Elberhard was loud and thoughtless. Where Hans planned and acted, Elberhard partied and postured. Still, the young man had some redeeming qualities - bravery, a sense of justice, a promising strategist… perhaps something would come of him one day?

Henry stood up awkwardly and Elberhard rushed forward to embrace his reserved father.

“So” said Elberhard “Time for round two with that Egyptian - what was the @#$..., I mean, what was the chap called again?”

“Medhat Kafur, I believe his name was.” supplied Henry diffidently. “But no, that fellow will be your responsibility, I fear.”

“What? Never thought you’d walk away from a good fight, father!” joshed Elberhard.

Henry smiled: “My glory-hunting days are over. Duke Otto warned me I would have only a few years to run wild. They are over now. I have but one or two battles left in me. I do, however, intend them to count.”

Elberhard looked puzzled.

Henry continued: “You have no doubt read Athalwolf’s reports from Baghdad?”

“Athalwolf? Why, err… well, you know, I haven’t quite got around to …”

“They are coming, you know. Not here, at least Athalwolf thinks not, but to Damascus or perhaps even directly to Jerusalem. I cannot leave King Otto alone to try to fend them off.”

For once, Elberhard was still and quiet.

“I intend to strike them first, before they even set eyes on the Holy City. I have no expectation that I will prevail. But I will strike them such a blow, it will give them pause. I am contacting Duke Otto. I expect he will also make a stand - perhaps on the bridge to Jerusalem. When we two are done with them, my brother’s crusade will only have to pick up the pieces. And Christendom will be saved.”

Elberhard looked at his father, resignedly signing his letter to King Otto and putting it to one side. In a rare moment of insight, it seemed to Elberhard as if his father was signing off on all his earthly attachments. Elberhard’s stomach felt empty as he realised this was probably the last time he would ever see his father again. @#$%^&!!! this for a game of soldiers, thought Elberhard sadly: My father’s become a religious fanatic. I preferred it when Kolar was in charge.