Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[Tamur]

Lex Saxonum

In the quiet of a dark night in Stettin, the fire crackled in Fritz' hearth. A few friends sat closeby, sipping beers and talking quietly. Berchtold, at Fritz's right before the fire, spoke up.

"What is wrong with the Empire, that it cannot stand alone?"

Fritz shook his head and looked into the fire for a moment. He chucked. "Such a small question, Berchtold."

He sighed and his glass dropped to his lap. "The Empire, if it were whole, would be strong enough to stand against any power in the world."

"You know the Saxons, and their laws. Your father ten generations back may have helped uphold them. Probably did, come to think of it. We should be following the same laws."

"Should, there's the rub. Saxon kings existed because they gave something to their followers. Gold, land, slaves, women -- whatever the king could spare without making himself poor. They would break rings in half and cut coins into tiny pieces to make sure each of their subjects had a fair share."

Berchtold broke in. "Yes, and followers gave their sword arms in return, I know this all Fritz."

Fritz laughed. "Just a minute! I'm making a point here." He took a swig of beer and contemplated a moment.

"If a king wished to go to war," Fritz continued, "he would go to the chiefs who owed him allegiance, and they in turn would go to those who were under them, and so on. And so a mighty army could be raised simply because kings gave to dukes, dukes gave to counts, counts gave to landed men under them."

A voice at his left interrupted. "What if an underling was a man of God, and did not wish to fight?"

Fritz turned to see Athelstan. "If he accepted his lord's gifts, he was bound to fight. If he did not, word would get round and that man would be outlawed. No king wished to have a faithless vassal."

"The Reich was founded on these principles. But it has existed for so long, now the Emperor expects abject obedience whilst giving nothing but empty titles to his Dukes. His Dukes, in turn, have little to give to their Counts, and so we Counts have little or no reason to remain loyal. To anyone except our friends." He smiled at Berchtold and Athelstan.

"And so the Holy Roman Empire will disintegrate into nothing," said Berchtold, grimacing.

Fritz returned his gaze to the fire, where the logs were crumbling under the dancing blue flames at its heart.

[OverKnight]

Matthias Adrift, 1308

Even now, years later, apprehension filled Matthias when he sailed, particularly along the coast of southern Anatolia. In 1258 the fleet bringing him to the Holy Land had been attacked by Saracen ships, and he was forced to land on a remote beach south of Smyrna. It was not so much the battle that had unnerved Matthias, but the lack of control. He was no sailor, and the best he could do was repel a few boarders while the ships swirled about him, titans outside his control that could end his life in an instant. Only by blind luck did he survive that day. Oddly enough it had been that loss, that feeling of helplessness that compelled him, among other reasons, to run for Chancellor. With that position he would be in control, as much as any mortal could be. He would rise and fall by his own hand, not by chance or fate.

Now, sailing those waters again, Matthias felt the same loss of control, of helplessness. Of course there was no physical threat to the ship he was on, no ill wind or pirates, yet he still felt adrift. The seas might be calm, but a storm had taken hold of the Reich, and it threatened to consume his life and all he had built up. Forty years in power, forty years of adversity and triumph, Khans killed, Cathedrals built, Popes elevated, Wars won and Peace gained and it had only taken eight years for it dissipate. Just eight years and he felt as powerless and lost as that whey faced boy puking on the shore of a strange land.

I hate ships, thought Matthias, I'd rather be on solid ground. But the Reich itself was adrift, no one seemed to be at the helm, everyone wanted to sail in a different direction and the Corsairs were closing in.

All that he could do, all that he had left, was to repel boarders.

[TinCow]

The Italian nobles had been referring to the Florentine Pleasure Palace as ‘The Cathedral of Sin,’ even before its construction had finished. It was a nickname popular with both critics and patrons, though for different reasons. One thing all men agreed on was that it was a magnificent structure, with four floors above ground, two below, and an eight story tower crowning the edifice. All of it laced with fine woodwork and carved stone moldings. It was no simple drinking house; it was vice made art.

The first thing that struck Lothar Steffen as he entered was the relative lack of noise. There were easily two hundred men drinking and carousing inside its walls on an average day, but none were visible, or even audible, unless they wanted to be. The only sounds that pervaded the entryway were those that came from the large public drinking hall off to the left. Even there, the usual mayhem of an inn or tavern was absent. Only men of wealth and breeding were permitted access to the Cathedral of Sin, and they behaved like saints out of respect, and possibly fear, of its proprietor. Lothar considered it a high compliment. I have achieved greater civility amongst men in a brothel than most priests see in their own Churches.

Katharina, the Palace greeter, approached the Duke of Bavaria. She was charming and intelligent, but her firm and voluptuous figure had been specifically chosen as one of Lothar’s finishing touches to his grand work. “Shall I show you to your private suite, m’Lord?” Lothar nodded to her slightly and proceeded to follow her through the twisting, candlelit hallways.

“What ‘specials’ do we have today, Katharina?”

“There are two new arrivals worthy of your notice, m’Lord. There is a Russian girl of some decent upbringing. Apparently the daughter of a minor noble family that did not fare well during the Teutonic Crusade, and fared even more poorly under the Tsar’s wrath afterwards. She is smart, well-spoken, very beautiful, and has impeccable manners. The second girl is a Moor that was sold to us via a Sicilian merchant. Apparently the girl is mute, but she is highly talented in all areas and quite eager to please. A rumor has been circulating amongst the patrons that she was trained in a Moorish harem. Whether true or not, I have encouraged it. It increases her… allure, and her price.”

Lothar snorted. “I have no wish to taste the spoils of Duke Ansehelm’s campaigns or some Mohammedan castoff. No, send me Engeltrud. I desire a proper Bavarian woman this evening.”

“As you wish, m’Lord.” A minute later, Katharina stopped in front of a dark doorway. “If there is aught else, I will take my leave now, m’Lord. Engeltrud will be along shortly.”

Lothar nodded and stepped into his private chambers. From the outside, the door appeared like any other in the Palace; polished oak planks with pleasing, but simple, carvings and inlay work. On the inside, though, the chambers were unique. A long, narrow hallway opened up into a vast sitting room with an immense fireplace. It was so large it could easily accommodate a man and would not have looked out of place in the banquet hall of the Duke’s own manor. A writing desk, chairs, and a few small bookcases served as furnishings. Thick tapestries depicting Bavarian battle scenes adorned the walls and the floors were covered with lush furs of an immense variety. Off to the left lay a private bedroom and dressing room, outfitted in a manner that would suit nearly any man except the Kaiser himself. It was, in truth, more of a small manor house than a brothel suite.

Lothar walked over to the fireplace and looked up at the tapestry that adorned its face. It was an elaborate piece showing Kaiser Heinrich’s assault on Genoa. Lothar’s own father, Duke Gerhard Steffen, had been present that day. He was displayed prominently on the walls of the city, a sword in hand and Bavarian spearmen all around him. Buildings at the center of the tapestry framed a scene showing Kaiser Heinrich cutting off Pope Gregory’s head. Perhaps historically inaccurate, but inspiring and true in essence, if not it detail. Dark times call for dark measures.

A knock at the door broke Lothar’s reverie. “Enter.”

The diminutive figure of Engeltrud appeared in the doorway. Her head was bowed, but her manner was slight and respectful. She closed and locked the door behind her, then turned and curtsied to the Duke of Bavaria. “I am pleased m’Lord wishes to see me.”

Lothar let his eyes drift over the girl’s body. She was beautiful, to be sure, and attired in a manner befitting the daughter of a wealthy merchant, if not a minor noble. Well-dressed whores were always so much more pleasing, and profitable, than the common street rabble. “I expect I will take quite a while this evening, so you had best save your stamina. You may begin now.”

The girl nodded and shuffled quickly over to the bedroom. When she was out of sight of the Duke, she began to giggle and moan. Lothar waited and listened for a few moments, then turned and walked over the fireplace. He picked up an iron poker and began to shove the burning logs to one side. When they were moved well to the left, he ducked his head slightly and stepped into the right side. He pulled a thick cloth from his pocket, wrapped it around his hand, and grasped a metal bar that protruded from the stone hearth wall. Lothar lifted and pulled; the warmth from the heated iron growing steadily fiercer in his hand. With a shudder, part of the wall split and pushed back, sliding along hinges hidden from view to those on this side of the door. As he passed through the yawning gap into the blackness beyond, he heard Engeltrud gasp and call his name. He knew she would continue in that manner for as long as he was gone. Though eavesdroppers were unlikely, Lothar Steffen never took chances. I hope she saves some of that for later.

The Duke of Bavaria shut the door behind him, then turned and blinked into the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adapt to the change from the bright fireplace to the dim staircase beyond. To his left was a hook from which was suspended a long, black robe. Lothar gathered it about him, tied the thick silken cord around his waist, and pulled the hood over his head. He took a moment to adjust his clothing under the garment, and then removed the single lit sconce from the wall to his right. Brandishing it before him like a cross, he moved into the darkness below.

The stairs and hallways twisted and turned for some time, but he never made a sound. The floor was entirely coated with thick bearskins to prevent the echoing of footsteps that would otherwise have made it a noisy passage. Lothar couldn’t help but grin as he walked. The secret passages and chambers pervaded the Pleasure Palace; a design of his own making. Men could move unseen from several of the most private rooms through this network of stone and timber. Outside the Brotherhood, only a few loyal and obedient Bavarian servants even knew they existed. The slaves and prisoners of war who had laid the foundations of the Pleasure Palace had taken its secrets to their untimely graves.

After a few minutes, he turned a corner and a brighter light poured towards him. A large, circular chamber with a low ceiling opened out from the mouth of the hallway. In the middle was a triangular table, surrounded by ebony chairs set with gold leaf. The table itself was inlaid to look like a pyramid with a huge, open eye at the pinnacle. There was no spot in the entire chamber that was out of its line of sight. Lothar sat in the seat closest to the hallway from which he had entered. The other chairs were all full; their corresponding passageways leading back into the inky blackness to the private chambers from which their occupants had arrived, unseen.

The dark figure on the opposite side of the circle spoke first. “Welcome, Voice. You are late.”

Lothar bowed his head. “Apologies, Grand Master. I was meeting with our agent in the Byzantine Court. I wanted to hear the news from him directly; one can never trust second hand information and idle rumors.”

“So, is it true then? Does Siegfried really intend to give all of Outremer to the Byzantine Emperor?”

Lothar paused, feeling the weight of the statement he was about to make. “It is true.”

Shouts and cries came from every figure in the circle. “Outrageous!” “Treason!” “He’s in league with the Devil!” The commotion continued on, breaking down into several small conversations as the Brothers digested the information. A single voice on Lothar’s right finally broke through the commotion. “First Naples and Palermo, then a unification of the Churches, which caused mass rioting across the Reich, and now the loss of all of Outremer. This is an abomination!” A response came from the left. “Even worse, all of this is done without consultation with us and without our permission! Our alliance with the Kaiser was meant to produce the exact opposite result! There is no controlling this man, no reasoning with him.”

“Quiet… quiet… my Brothers,” said the Grand Master. Slowly, orderly silence was restored to the chamber, though several of the black cloaks continued to twitch in obvious irritation. “So what are we to do about this treason?”

“We cannot permit it to pass,” the man to Lothar’s immediate left said.

“But we cannot stop it while Siegfried sits the Imperial Throne,” a figure across the circle responded.

A heavy silence fell over the stone chamber. Eventually, Lothar spoke. “We all know what must be done. We have suspected it would come to this for some time, ever since he gave Palermo and Naples to the Byzantines. I can no longer see any alternative.”

“I agree,” said the man to Lothar’s right.

“And I,” said another. Every voice spoke in turn, giving their consent without disagreement.

“It is unanimous then,” the Grand Master said. He stood and walked a few paces to the head of the pyramid. “I hereby proclaim Kaiser Siegfried to be a traitor to the Reich and an enemy of the Divine Order of the Illuminati. His sentence is death, to be carried out immediately.” He looked back at Lothar. “I trust you will see to this matter, Voice?”

Lothar stood and bowed deeply. “The road from Constantinople to Rome is long and treacherous. Even the Kaiser’s own bodyguards could find themselves overwhelmed by an unexpected foe. It will be easy to find Poles, Hungarians, or even brigands to do the deed, if enough coin is devoted to the matter. In this case, I will spare no expense.”

As one, the remaining Brothers stood and approached the table; forming a pyramid around the pyramid, with the Grand Master as the eye. All voices spoke in unison. “Re acre accipemus, cuncti pro bono terrae, finorumqu'et regni.”

When it was done, Lothar turned and walked back into the darkness from which he came. Eventually, he knew, he would emerge once again into the warmth and light of the world above. Soon, though, Kaiser Siegfried would not.

[Privateerkev]

The King's apartment in Rome: 1308

Jan sat at his desk working on a large piece of paper. He was in town to attend the Diet and retired to his apartment to work on something. A knock came at the door. Jan barked "Enter" and Gunther opened it and called in, "My King, sorry for bothering you, but a man is here to see you."

"Send him in," Jan called out. He pulled a large tarp over his whole desk and turned his chair around. A non-descript man walked in, sat on the couch, and put his feet up. Jan's eyebrow rose at the man's complete lack of tact. "Who are you?"

"My King, I represent the men who you contacted some time ago. The old man of the mountain finally decided to see what your query was about," said the stranger.

Jan was surprised, "Hashashins? What are you doing in Rome?"

The man chuckled, "Why my King, some of our best customers are in Rome! We would be quite remiss if we failed to have a liaison set up here. So, why did you contact us? We were quite surprised when your contacts reached out to us. Your not exactly known for dealing with our kind."

"I want to know if you know of a Dusan Kolar. I believe he works with your group."

The man's face betrayed no emotion, "and what if we did?"

"I want to know what the price would be to have him turned over to me. As you know, I have been re-appointed as King and am in a position to reward your group heavily."

The stranger told the King the Hashashins's price for turning over Dusan. The King reacted with shock. "That is absurd! I should lock you up for even suggesting it!"

The man chuckled, "And how long do you think I would sit in jail my King? No, others run this Reich behind the scenes and it would be good if you figured that out. And I know from your reputation that you won't kill me. And even if you did, your family would suffer. If I don't return from your apartment to check in, your young niece is going to die. It is well known that you don't fear for your own life but I don't think you would be so cavalier with someone else's. So, if we don't have a deal, it is time I bid you farewell." Before the King could reply, the man got up and left.

After the man left, Gunther walked in. "How did that go?" he asked. Jan filled Gunther in on what the man said.

"He was right about one thing. A group of men are trying to run the Reich from behind the scenes. Here, it is time I show you something," the King said as he lifted the tarp off of his desk. Gunther saw a giant poster with elector's names circled. From these circles, lines branched out to connect the names of other electors. On these lines, were descriptions written out of political acts and votes that the electors had in common. Gunther noticed that the elector names spanned across every house and the recorded acts went back at least three Diet sessions.

"My King, this poster is quite something. I even see Dukes on the list. But what does this all mean?"

"Gunther, this last Diet was quite strange in many ways. Some things happened that confirmed suspicions I have held for quite some time. I believe that there is a cabal of men who are attempting to run the Reich behind the scenes. The events during the last Diet were not some spontaneous expression of rage. It was a carefully crafted plot to usurp the Kaiser's prerogative for Chancellor and to take the reins of power for themselves. It almost worked too but a few of us banded together and formed a bloc powerful enough to block CA 13.3. When this cabal saw their CA would fail, many of them jumped ship in order to avoid being in the embarrassing position of voting for a failed piece of legislation that would only anger the Kaiser."

Gunther nodded, "yeah Max and I have been talking about that. Things did seem strange in the last Diet. During the first day, a whole bunch of men immediately acted out in great rage and frustration. The second day, some things quited down, almost as if they were waiting to see what would happen. Then the third day was eerily quiet. Except for Dassel."

The King chuckled at Dassel's name being mentioned, "ah yes, our young rebellious populist. Or at least that's what he wants people to think. I believe he is this group's mouthpiece. He says what others are too afraid to say. I took up a similar role years ago. And I know from experience that he can not get away with what he has without having a patron quietly supporting him. But as to your observations, I think you and Max were spot on. The group in the Diet was quite disciplined with their lack of discipline. I believe the first day was to test the waters and see how far they could push. The second day was to evaluate the situation and count their votes. And on the third day they abandoned their plan and went back underground. Except for those tasked to keep stirring up trouble."

Gunther looked at Jan's poster, "I see every person who was raucous at the Diet is on this list. Looking at these connections, it does look like these men had been working together all along. Some of these relationships go back years. However, there is one name on this list that was not raucous at the Diet. How do you know he was part of it?"

Jan smiled, "Him? Oh I am convinced he is in charge of the whole thing. Yes, that man was uncharacteristically quiet through most of the whole Diet session. Pretty smart if you ask me. He directs an attempt to overthrow the Kaiser's Chancellorship but comes out of this relatively squeaky clean."

"So my King, what are you going to do with this information?"

"Gunther, I have served the Reich loyally my whole life. I refuse to sit by and let some secret cabal take over. When the Kaiser returns to Rome, I plan on giving him a full report. I will let him deal with them."

Gunther nodded, "I expected no less from you my King. As always, it is an honor to serve you. But what do we do now about Dusan?"

Jan shook his head, "I don't know. It looks like we just hit another dead end. But we keep trying. Salier deserves to have his killers brought to justice."

Gunther left the room and Jan returned to working on his report for the Kaiser.