Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[econ21]

A Dialogue on the Great Schism, Acre, 1294


“I had a very interesting meeting with Empress Theodora.” declared Linyeve.

“Did you love? How nice.” said Elberhard, distractedly.

“Yes, there is more to her than meets the eye. You could say we hit it off.”

Elberhard looked up, surprised, from his reading (Linyeve noticed with condescension that it was a book with very large illustrations of knights and fantastical creatures).

“Theodora is very knowledgable about scripture, you know.” Linyeve said.

“Oh really, how nice.” said Elberhard, flatly, returning to his book.

“Yes, she told me all about the Orthodox church. And, to be honest, I think she knew more about the Catholic church than I do.”

“Shocking.” said Elberhard. Then he glanced up, with a twinkle in his eye. “Do you have a Catholic church in England? Or do you still dance naked around big @#$%^&!!!ing stones with blue woad painted on your faces?”

Linyeve playfully whacked the Prinz over the ears with her fan: “No, we only dance naked around big stones on the Winter Solstice. And it’s not blue woad, it’s just that it's @#$%^&!!!ing freezing!” she said, playing along.

Elberhard roared with laughter.

“But seriously…” Linyeve persisted

Elberhard groaned, then yawned, scratched his crotch and looked around in an exagerated manner for a means of escape.

Linyeve sat down on the Prinz’s lap. He smiled and she traced a finger over his lips. She had his complete attention.

“You do know about the Great Schism of 1054, don’t you?” Linyeve asked.

“Err, sure, let me see … wasn’t that when Pope Gregory and the Kaiser had a falling out?”

“No, you dolt! That was the Investiture Crisis! That came later.” scolded Linyeve.

“Oh, ok then. No, I don’t have a @#$%^&!!!ing idea what the @#$%^&!!! you are talking about then.” said Elberhard angrily.

“Well, if you are sitting comfortably, then I will begin…” said Linyeve.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East-West_Schism

*****

“Wake up, you @#$%^&!!!” chided Linyeve.

“Sorry, love, did I nod off?” said Elberhard sheepishly. “You were saying …?”

“Yes, I was saying how ridiculous it is that the Catholic Church remains split from the Orthodox Church. Almost nothing divides us!”

“Almost nothing…?” probed Elberhard sceptically.

“Did you hear anything I said? How long were you out for?” snapped Linyeve. “All that would be required for the Catholic and Orthodox Churches to reunite would be two small things.”

Elberhard stirred in his chair, his wife still draped over his lap. “Do they, err, have to be two small things?” he queried lewdly, staring at his wife’s bosom.

Linyeve elbowed him in the ribs and straightened herself haughtily. “First, get rid of that Filoque clause from the Nicocene Creed.”

“Get rid of the what now?” said Elberhard dumbly.

“You know, the part that says “We believe in the Holy Spirit ... who proceeds from the Father and the Son”. All we have to do is drop the "and the Son” bit."

“@#$%^&!!!, woman you are doing my head in! Three words? - we have to drop three words? Fine, sounds like @#$%^&!!!ing angels on a pin head to me. What’s the other thing?”

“Admit that the Pope is not infallible. The Orthodox Church may accept him as “First Among Equals” and may even accept Rome as a final court of appeal. But The Patriarch of Constantinople must be allowed to be “First Among Equals in the East” A unified Church must be a like a college, not a monolith”.

“Sounds reasonable.” nodded Elberhard, embracing Linyeve. “Now, how’s about the two of us make our own little union…?”

Linyeve rolled her eyes and looked at the clock - 10 minutes of semi-intelligent conversation; that had to be a record.

[GeneralHankerchief]

(OOC: Read this first.)

Northern France, 1292

"Take me to them," Dietrich von Dassel said.

"Yes, My Lord," said Friedrich, his aide and captain, who was in Dietrich's tent. "Follow me." Dietrich picked up his sword and exited after Friedrich.

The two men walked out of Dietrich's tent, past the army camp where the survivors of the battle were mostly eating and drinking in victory. They walked out to a field where three hundred and four French soldiers, now prisoners, were standing side-by-side, disarmed and guarded by several Imperial knights. Dietrich observed this scene for a moment and then spat on the ground in disgust.

"This is a beautiful field," he said to the French prisoners gathered there, who stared at him. "It is pretty. It is green. It is lush and full of life. It is a testimony to the Lord's brilliance.

"You are not fit to tread on this field."

He walked up close to the man on the far left of the line. Judging by his uniform, the man used to be a Chivalric Knight, a Frenchman of some nobility. Now he was a prisoner and he was about to find out just how unfortunate it was to be a prisoner of Dietrich and not, say, some other nobleman.

"You are French. You are the scum of the earth. You pollute this field and this air by walking here. It is a miracle that this country is not a filthy and diseased wasteland after you have inhabited it for so long. My only explanation is that God has been preserving it for us and our eventual takeover."

The Frenchman, obviously not knowing better, spoke up. "Monsieur, je ne comprends pas; je ne parle pas allemand..."

"Of course you don't," Dietrich said, still in German, apparently understanding what the man said. "You're French. You are too stupid to learn anything of worth. You are overall, unfit to live." Before the Frenchman could say anything, Dietrich flashed his sword. His prisoner crumpled to the ground, a bloody mess.

Three hundred and three.

He sidestepped the mess on the ground, moving over to the next prisoner in line, who was now shaking in fear. This one was a Dismounted Noble Knight.

"Et est-ce que *vous* parlez allemand?" His voice was like ice. The Frenchman nodded furiously.

"Good," Dietrich said. "Maybe I can make you understand why you are inferior to me in every way then."

"Waitaminute," said the Frenchman in German, "You cannot say this. This is simply untrue. We are all the children of Charlemagne, after all..."

"No," said Dietrich calmly. "*We* are the children of Karl the Great and his wife. You are the children of his bastard son, created only because he felt like satisfying an Aquitainian prostitute after one of his many victories, and who only became noted because of the blood that ran through half of his body. That was the cleanest that French royal blood has ever been. I imagine by now that it is dirtier than the water you drink. Let's find out, shall we?"

There was another flash of his sword, and another "thud" as the body crumpled to the ground. Dietrich looked at the blood seeping out in disdain, and stepped to the next person in line.

"Yep," he said, "I was right. Perhaps you could explain something to me," he addressed to his next soon-to-be victim. "For years you build up Caen and make it a halfway decent Citadel, although I'm sure it's the mightiest thing you can do. You produce all kinds of troops and send them into our lands by the thousands. But after all those years, you don't get one city out of it, and then when we come into Caen, equipped with the best defenses you can manage, we take it in a snap. Tell me how that's possible."

The Frenchman tried to reply, but it all came out in a stuttering, gabbering mess.

"I should have known that that's the best you could come with. I admit, I had hoped to get at least one coherent sentence out of you though. You're just completely useless to me." The sword flashed, the body crumpled. Three hundred and one. He stepped to the next person, who began pleading immediately.

"S'il vous plaît, monsieur... nous sommes catholiques, le même que vous..."

"Wrong. Only humans are allowed to be Catholics. You are dirt. You are scum. You would pollute and compromise the Kingdom of Heaven if you were ever allowed in. Your heads are not fit to be interior decorations in the Castle of Dis. I do not know where they put you when you die but I can only hope for the people of the Beyond regions that it is an isolated spot. Let's find out."

Flash. Thud. Three hundred. Next.

"I admire the heathens in Outremer more than you," Dietrich said. "They have history; tradition. They pose a threat to the Reich because of troop quality, not because they mindlessly breed and mistakenly believe that they can crush us with numbers. If I captured them, I would execute them because they posed a threat to me. Not because I believe that the world would be better off without them, as I do with you."

Flash. Thud. Two hundred ninety-nine.

"Dietrich!" Friedrich screamed, watching the whole thing. "Stop this madness! Let us ransom them! Let us get florins out of this! The Chancellor always needs the money, and-"

"No," he said, simply, and that was the end of the discussion. "I am killing the French off to do the world a favor. They plague the Reich, yes, but they plague the Earth with their existence. I do this for the English and the Spanish and the Danes. A world without France is a beautiful world, Friedrich, and I intend to see it happen."

There were two hundred ninety-nine more flashes; two hundred ninety-nine more thuds. And little by little Dietrich saw his goal come closer to realization.

[Privateerkev]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

This story is a co-op between myself and econ.

Outside Aleppo: 1294

King Jan sat inside of a farmhouse on the outskirts of Aleppo. Jan's family had owned land around Aleppo for decades. It was as out of the way and secure as you could get. Max and Gunther patrolled outside. They took days getting out here to make sure they weren't followed. Elberhard arrived a few days later because his journey was farther and he also had to back-track in order to throw off possible pursuit.

Jan was sitting at a table thinking about how the meeting was going to go. He was really going out on a limb trusting Elberhard like this. But, he really had no choice. He had to trust someone. He had sent the Prince a simple message requesting a meeting and urging caution. Jan's thoughts were interrupted when Elberhard walked through the door. Both men's retinue stayed outside and secured the perimeter. A whole lot of people would not want this conversation to take place and security was air-tight.
"Elberhard! Glad you could make it. I hope the trip went well. Here, have a seat. Have a beer. Thanks again, for agreeing to meet like this," Jan said as he got up, shook the Prince's hand and showed him his seat.

“My pleasure.” smiled Elberhard. “Your letter was rather mysterious. But I figured it must be important, so I came right away.”

Jan sat back and relaxed: "My how times have changed. I remember when we were both just a couple of crusader counts trying to impress our fathers. Now look at us. Your heir to the throne and have your own personal army. I got picked to administer a kingdom. We got old. We're getting to be the elders now."

“Us the elders?” exclaimed Elberhard. “Then the young ‘uns are well and truly @#$%^&!!! But it’s true - we can’t complain. We’ve done well out of this lark; perhaps too well. I can’t help feeling pride comes before a fall. But what’s this all about, Jan? Why the cloak and dagger stuff?”

"OK. First off, you’re the only one I can trust with what I am about to tell you. Sure I have crusader counts that are polite to me in the Outremer hall and in letters, but they scheme with their Dukes behind my back. The Kaiser certainly is sympathetic, but he is a busy man and quite frankly, I don't really know him at all. The Dukes see me as a useful ally at best and a threat to their power at worst. You on the other hand, keep your distance from everyone but you care about what goes on in the Reich and out here. I'm sure it has to do with the position of Prince. You don't want to get too close to people so you can at least try to be impartial when your Kaiser. But you always have looked out for me. I remember back when you offered me sanctuary years ago when Arnold was after me. My father named you as one of the only people in the Reich worth trusting. He didn't like many people so that meant a lot to me that he vouched for you. So, that is where I am coming from and that is why we are having this conversation."

“Jan, I am flattered.” said Elberhard. “For my part, ever since I saw you - a young whippersnapper - square up to Duke Elephantballs, I knew you were a man after my own heart. To be honest, it was a little comic and even absurd, like watching an uppity terrier goad a tethered bull. But the Reich nowadays seems dominated by dread knights; our reputation for butchering prisoners rivals that of the @#$%^&!!!ing Horse Lords, for @#$%^&!!!s sake. It was like you saw that coming and tried to stop it. You probably went about it all the wrong way and you totally failed to stop it, of course. But you tried. And for that you have my admiration, my friendship and my loyalty.”

Elberhard paused and looked into his beer awkwardly: “Well, now we have got that mutual love-in over with, are you going to tell me what the @#$%^&!!! this is all about?”

"Alright, on to business.” said Jan. “I believe King Salier was murdered. First off, I was at the battle and some thing just didn't feel right. The King was a masterful commander. But, that last battle looked like it was being run by a private. All the regiments were just thrown in hap-hazard. There was no attempt at strategy. No deployment. No units giving each other cohesive support. Just a total free-for-all. "

Elberhard nodded. “Yeah, it just was not right for the boss to go down so easily.”

"But, so much happened so quickly afterwards at the next Diet session that I kind of put it out of my mind” continued Jan “That is, until that new bar-maid, Larisa, started working at the Tavern. She quickly made contact with me and informed me she had information. We exchanged some messages and eventually met in person at my apartment in Rome. This woman is quite a piece of work. She claimed the King was poisoned and she knew who did it because she worked for them by watching his camp. They never paid her for the job so she tipped off Hans when they targeted him next. Then she came to Rome for safety and to further what ever plots and plans she had. After telling me she had a hand in the King's murder, she had the nerve to come on to me. So, I pulled a pistol on her and kicked her out. I haven't seen her around Rome since."

“@#$%^&!!!ing ‘ell! Women! Can you @#$%^&!!!ing believe ‘em?” exclaimed Elberhard. “More deadlier than the male, let me tell you, mate.”

"After that conversation, I started doing some digging, both literally and figuratively.” recounted Jan. “I couldn't find any trace of poison in Salier's body but I did discover I was being followed. I followed a few leads and moved my way up the food chain of this criminal gang in Antioch. They confirmed that they were logistical and intelligence support to a couple plots to assassinate King Salier. I finally got to the mid-level management. And that guy gave me a name. Dusan. And that's where I have hit a wall. The guy said Dusan was on your father's staff. Do you know anything about this guy?"

Elberhard looked like Jan had thumped him in the solar plexus. Slowly, he recovered: “Know anything about him? You might say that. I had the @#$%^&!!!er in my dungeon only a few years ago!”

The Prinz paused and then began to tell the story: “It was just before your boys saw off the last of the Mongols. There was some weird @#$%^&!!! with one of my retinue, an old chap who used to be my mentor. Apparently, this Dusan bloke was blackmailing him to persuade me to leave Outremer. Nasty business. Dusan had my chap’s grandchildren hostage. Still, we got it sorted - caught Dusan and exchanged him for the nippers. I had half a mind to run the @#$%^&!!!er through after the exchange, but that would not have been entirely chivalrous, would it? Although I am not sure chivalry applies to scum like him.”

Jan was wide-eyed with interest, soaking up every detail. “But who was he, this Dusan? What did he want?”

Elberhard sat back. “I’m not sure of the details. He used to hang around my father when he was in Outremer. But they had some kind of falling out. He disappeared not long after I got established here. Linyeve found out more details from King Otto’s widow, Elspeth. Apparently, Otto despised Dusan - I mean, really despised him. Elspeth even gave Linyeve on the sword cane Otto wanted to stick him with. Good judge of character, King Otto.”

Jan tried to hide his dissatisfaction. The vagueness of Elberhard’s replies was not a form of dissembling. The Prinz had never been a details man. It was clear that if Jan was to find out more about Dusan’s aims and affiliation, he would have to take to Elspeth.

“I don’t suppose you have a means of finding Dusan and getting him back into your dungeon?” Jan inquired, more in hope than expectation.

Elberhard shook his head. “If I told you the lengths we had to go to bag him in the first place, you would not ask. He got careless, but he won’t be repeating his mistake any time soon. There might be some people who could help you, though: for a price.”

Jan looked attentively as the Prinz continued: “The hashashins.”

Inwardly, Jan groaned. Why was nothing ever easy?

[Cecil XIX]

Bran, 1296

It was a normal Sunday, like all those previous but with two exceptions. Firstly, Contzel Becker had arrived in Bran with the intent to stay until the second AHA was reformed. Secondly, the Beckers were wearing black to Church that day.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The service itself was not remarkable. After it was over, Edmund spoke to the Priest who had presided over the ceremony. After the exchange of pleasantries and a brief conversation, they parted ways and Edmund guided Contzel to the door that was sequestered towards the back.

The door itself was the entry to a small room that seemed to jut out from the corner. A brief inspection of the stones used showed that the two lesser walls for the room were noticeable younger than the major walls for the building. Edmund opened the door, revealing a well-lit staircase.

As the Beckers descended, Contzel previously emotionless expression began to brake apart, and when they reached the door at the bottom she had started to cry. Becker looked at her with concern before he awkwardly fished a handkerchief from his person and gave it to his wife before opening the door.

The room was small, but rather cozy. There were a few benches on the walls, but otherwise the room was lacking in accoutrements. In the center of the room was a sarcophagus, clearly marked in stone for those who had just entered.

Sigismund von Mahren

1144-1274

"For a true and holy Reich"

At this Edmund quickly made the sign of the Cross. Whilst he was doing that Contzel threw herself onto the coffin and began sobbing hysterically.

“Sigismund! Sigismund, we did you have to leave us too? We all miss you Sigismund! Mother and Niesenn and I were all terribly upset…”

Edmund knelt before his wife, and placed a reassuring hand on her back.

“It’s all right Contzel, Sigismund’s-“

She turned to him with fury in her eyes.

“NO! It is not all right! Sigismund said the same thing when Ehrhart died, so don’t you dare say that it’s all right!”

Edmund stopped, unable to say anything. Ehrhart, Sigismund, and now Wilhelm falling in battle had put them both on edge. As he stared into his wife’s eyes, a look of intense focus entered her features and she began to speak.

“You have to promise me that you will never go to war again. You can’t! This family has been through too much to see you die too!”

Never had he had to refuse something so agreeable.

“I can’t do that Contzel, I’m the only one left. Duke Arnold needs me, and Sigismund would never forgive me if I shirked away from my duty.”

“Don’t you talk to me about duty! That’s what got my brothers killed, and it’s going to get you too!”

“I promise you, I’m not going to die in battle. I will be extremely cautious when I’m on the field.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“All right then.” She stood up. “I’ve said what I had to say. I’m going to go get some flowers to place here before continuing. Do you want to come with me?”

“I will stay here and converse with the priest. They say he met Sigismund when he was a member of the Theologian’s guild in Budapest and became a member of his retinue.” He stood up to walk with her.

“Ludwig was his name, wasn’t it? I’m sure you'll have much to talk about.”

The walked up the stairs in silence and said their momentary goodbyes when Contzel went to pick flowers. To Edmund’s surprise the priest was exactly where he had left him. With a bit of nervousness he walked up to the vicar.

“Thank you for taking care of the burial chamber. It means a great deal to the Reich, Austria and my family.”

The priest was silent, and seemed to be sizing Edmund up.

"It's remarkable really, I've heard Sigsimund made quite an impression on the people here even though he spent so little time in the castle."

The Priest continued to stay silent. By then Edmund had decided that a staring contest was as good a use of his time as he was going to get, and he attacked the matter whole-heartedly. Eventually Contzel returned and Edmund turned to walk away. That was when the priest spoke.

“Sir Sigismund spared Bran from the wanton death and destruction that surrounds the Reich. Many of the soldiers he spared had families here, and they remembered the mercy he showed to their husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons. We keep the crypt well-maintained as a tribute to him for treating Transylvania with the respect an Imperial province commands before it was even conquered, as well as showing the people mercy even Imperial citizens are occasionally without.” Without another word, the priest walked away leaving Edmund thoughtful.

“Mercy…”

[Privateerkev]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

This story is a co-op between myself and Cecil

Bran 1300:

King Jan rode his horse up to the citadel. He had taken a ship to south Austria and headed here on the way to the next Diet session. He had been both dreading and eagerly awaiting this trip for years. But, it was something he had to do. A letter to Count Becker preceded his arrival and Edmund was waiting by the gates for the King.

"Count Becker! Good to finally talk to you. I haven't seen you since we drank at the Tavern," Jan said as he got off of his horse and shook the man's hand.

"It is good to see you again as well, King Jan. I thank you for coming, the people here are eager to get a look at the King of Outremer. This way, if you please"

The two men walked into the church. They were silent until they got down into the tomb. For awhile, Jan just stared at Sigismund's final resting place.

"He was the best of us you know," Jan finally said softly to break the silence.

"I confess I know little about my brother-in-law, though Contzel spoke very highly of him. I know that the two of you were friends and I'd be eager hear something about him."

Jan began, "First off, I'm sorry about the tragedies that have befallen your family. Sigismund was my best friend. We worked closely together to try to steer the Reich in a new direction. You're one of the two last remaining male family members of his. And I don't think Duke Arnold is ready to hear this yet so I'll tell you."

Becker politely listened as Jan continued, "Years ago there was a piece of legislation that attempted to mandate that prisoners could not be executed after battle and that settlements could not be exterminated. It was pretty unpopular among some and it didn't pass. But, it came a lot closer than people thought it would and it gave those of the more dreadful persuasion a good scare."

"People still think that it was my idea. But the secret I have been carrying around for years is that it was Sigismund's. It was him that pushed me to put that legislation forward and it was him that worked behind the scenes to help get it passed. Afterwards, he was instrumental at getting Duke Arnold and I to reconcile. I was simply the public face of the CA. It was decided that Sigismund was in a more precarious political situation. If you've checked the old Diet transcripts, you'll see that I am somewhat more outspoken and not as concerned with the niceties of politics," Jan said the last with a small smile. As Jan was talking about the mercy CA, Becker listened more intently.

"The point of all of this is, Sigismund was a true knight. In the best sense of the word. And I can't even tell anyone. The Reich has gone in the wrong direction. People in the Diet try to one-up each other on suggestions for massacres. Those of us who believe otherwise are dying off. And not enough of the younger ones are following the right path. Those of the more dreadful persuasion hold positions of power and are not encouraging their Counts to be merciful," with that last word, Edmund perked up. Jan noticed the word struck a cord with Edmund.

Edmund spoke up, "Your sentiments confirm my own observations. Though I am not as grand as you or Sigismund in my thoughts about the Reich, I am a religous man and I find casual slaughter to be extremely distasteful."

Jan looked at Becker intently and said, "Edmund, the Lord is saddened to see us deny him souls. It is our job to save people and spread the good word. Murdering them unarmed denies the Lord his Christian soldiers. While we are the vanguard, he needs many soldiers. That is our task." Jan pulled a box out of his cloak and opened it. Becker's eyes widened in amazement as he saw a bramble of twigs in a circle. "This sat upon the Lord's head when he was crucified. When he died for our sins. This is proof that he loved us regardless of how imperfect we were. We have to honor the Lord's sacrifice by atoning for our sins and helping to build a more perfect world. A world ruled by the word of God. And the Reich will be the instrument of the Lord for we are good and just. I will leave you with those thoughts in hope that it will comfort you," Jan said as he closed the box and put it away.

There was silence for a few moments, as Edmund stared at the space the Crown of Thorns had occupied. Eventually he spoke, "I understand. Thank you my King, I will take these words to heart."

Finally Jan said, "if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for awhile."

Jan waited until he was sure that Becker left. Finally, he knelt in front of the tomb. "I'm sorry old friend, I failed. I tried to continue the work we started together but everything changed when you died. So many of our allies passed on. All of the Dukes are murderers. The Kaiser has even gotten a bit colder. There is only the Prince, myself, and a handful of others left that show mercy on the battlefield. I fear we are facing dark times Sigismund and I wish you were here to help steer us out of them. You were always the brains and heart of our partnership. I was simply the mouthpiece," the King said as his eyes welled up.

Jan knelt in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Alone with his thoughts, Jan knew deep down that Sigismund would want Jan to keep fighting. To never give up. Jan knew that Sigismund always had faith in him. With resolve, Jan stood up and made the sign of the cross across his chest.

"Goodbye my friend. One day, we'll meet again..."

With that, the King walked back up the stairs.

[FactionHeir]

Staufen castle, 1300 AD

The cellar was dark and damp. The few torches that had been lit in the darker corners did little to illuminate the eery athmosphere that lay upon this chamber tonight, as a dark figure entered it, bringing with it some fading beams of light.
It was suitable however, for what was to be discussed between the several men that had gathered here, with none of the usual castle guards in sight.

Hans motioned to the late arrival to have a seat at the lone round table beside the kegs of wine that were lined along the sides of the cellar. The figure hesistated at first, noticing that several other men lay waiting behind some of the pillars, but then seated itself regardless, not without a smirk, hidden by the darkness.

"I see you have brought some lapdogs with you to keep guard. Very good. I prefer dealing with those who trust me as little as I do." was the first sentence that broke the silence

Taking a seat himself, Hans poured some French wine into the two goblets that stood ready, offering one to the shady figure "Indeed. These days are not as safe as they used to be, besides, you know as little of my intentions as I do of yours..."

The figure moved somewhat, releasing from the depth of its hood what sounded like a muffled laugh. Waiting for Hans to drink from his goblet, he exchanged them, and took a sip himself. "Good, I see we understand each other. Do you wish to continue this battle of wits or will you let me in on why you have summoned me here this night?"

Hans was sligtly surprised by the exchange of goblets, but did not show it in his expression. One wrong move could mean the end of this meeting or betrayal. "Very well, let us begin. I have a question and an answer for you, which one will it be?"

The figure seemed startled for the reply did not come after several long seconds of silence. "The answer."

"Ahh, I would have thought you more interested in how the answer is obtained rather than a straight dead-end. Still, I will not count this against you. The answer is 'I cannot trust you to do what I will ask of you, yet neither can you trust me with your reward or support.'"

"Quite. Name your task then."

"I need someone...observed."

"Observation. How boring. Could you not have bothered one of the many apprentices with it?" Was the reply

"Of course. While I do not doubt their ability, I doubt their experience and ... integrity with this most secret mission."

"Really."

"It would also be unfortunate if there were ...problems with the guild if things went awry."

"Interesting. Problems." The figure spoke in a bored tone

"Yet influence in Swabia and possibly the empire might be the other side of the coin."

"You truly believe we lack influence."

"The headquarters certainly is not found in the empire."

The figure once again took a while to respond "Indeed. Very well, speak. You have my ear, but I warn you, if you are wasting my time, there might be...problems as well."

"Good. I see we reached an agreement. Well then. Dietrich von Dassel ring a bell?"

"If it was important, it would."

"I see your men withhold it from you."

"You see quite a lot, no?"

Hans had to chuckle at this remark. His guest was well versed in the art of diplomacy. Still, he did not reply directly to it, instead, simply continuing. "He seems to work for someone influential. Someone who grants him security so that he does not mind going "independent."

"Are you certain you did not wish to talk to the other guild?"

"I do not need him removed...yet. I'd rather strike when the mice are gathered."

A nod was the only reply

"Send your best agents to watch him. I will be putting him to garrison duty and he should be fairly easy to track. Make sure that he does not see your men, and they report in regularly. Every piece of information if to come directly to you and relayed to myself. Any leak and you may find yourself a new home in France. You bring me what I want, and you will gain several ew guild houses."

"And what tells me you will keep your word?"

"What tells me you will keep yours?"

"Good. I like it. Anything else?"

Adalberth passed Hans a heavy purse, which he dropped on the figure's lap "You will find further information inside. Do not disappoint me."

"As long as this is not too disappointing, you will not be" The figure rose, bowed, turned and slowly, like a shade, disappeared to the stairs.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Caen, 1300

"Ragusa?"

"Ragusa."

"Ragusa?!"

"Yes sir, I believe that it says 'Ragusa' on the parchment, yes."

"Cut the crap, Friedrich," Dietrich von Dassel said to his aide. "I'm being shuffled around, which is unlucky for the both of us. At first I thought that the Kaiser would simply be content with putting me in eternal second-in-command of the SHA behind the last Hummel. Kind of an irony considering that he hates me more than the man who tried to violently rebel against him some years ago. But now, not even that's good enough for me! Instead he puts me in Austrian territory overseeing nothing in particular for the best years of my life!"

"Well," said Friedrich thoughtfully, "It is close to the Byzantine border... If the Kaiser screws up negotiations - and considering him, it could happen - then you might be seeing more action than you think."

"No," said Dietrich with a touch of gloom on his face. "That's the brilliance of it all. Not even he can botch these negotiations, at least not to the point of war. He just gave Emperor Isaac two territories that should have been Bavarian right off the bat. I shudder to think what will happen when they get down to business.

"Anyway," he continued, "The whole point of his plan is that I won't even be on the frontier if his plan works. The way he sees it, he puts me right smack-dab in the middle of the new Empire once we re-unify with the Byzantines. I'll be far from anywhere important - exactly what he wants. That's why he picked Ragusa."

"I see," said Friedrich. Now he looked rather depressed. As a commander's career went, so did his aide's, and Friedrich's commander was not on the fast track to greater things at the moment.

"I don't know what went wrong during that Diet session," Dietrich said. It must have been the thousandth time he had said this since the session had ended some weeks ago, and that was only out loud. God knows how many more times he thought it to himself, at night, sleeping, eating, drinking, going over paperwork.

"I thought I really had something going, you know? Power to the people, and all that. I talk bad about the Kaiser, incite popular sentiment, and throw enough carrots to the Houses and I really thought they'd join me. It worked, for a while. I had Fritz, Peter, Athalwolf (although I don't know what happened with him, I was clearly being sarcastic when I insulted him), even Matthias! But what happened after that?"

"Well, sir, the fight with Duke Ansehelm got pretty ugly."

"Bah!" Dietrich spat, remembering the insults that had been traded and the political pressure placed on him to apologize. "I meant every word I said to him. The stupid idiot agrees with me but won't vote with me just because Kaiser Siegfried is his brother, so that completely absolves him of all wrongdoing. Hans acts like a total Frenchman when the time comes to make a stand, of course. 'I want to preserve the alliance with Franconia,' he says. Bah! The Swabian edicts still passed overwhelmingly. And he deprives his own House of voting influence because of that damned Duke."

There was a slight lull in conversation, which didn't last long due to Dietrich's continued ranting.

"Jesus Christ, Friedrich, I don't know what went wrong. I guess I'm just going to have to suck up to Hans if I want this thing turned around."

"Indeed, sir," Friedrich said. He looked uncomfortable at the mention of Hans but said nothing further to that effect. Dietrich did not notice the expression on his face and the two continued to live their newly-boring lives as normal.

[Northnovas]

Damascus 1300

The stout fellow knocked and waited for permission to enter the Governor’s study. Upon getting permission to enter the middle aged man walked in wiping his face with a hankie to clear the sweat from his eyes before speaking.

“My lord it has been completed. You must come and see immediately.” the man spoke excitedly still wiping sweat from his face and forgetting all manners with his good news.

Zirn looked at his new siege engineer Walter with amusement. He had come highly recommended but there had been no sieges for the Governor for sometime. Wanting to retain his service has insurance the Governor took him on to help complete his Cathedral.

“Excellent, excellent news, Walter! I knew I could put those engineering skills of yours to something more creative then just designing equipment for destruction.” exclaimed Zirn. “Your expertise has put this feat well ahead of schedule. I am truly grateful for your work.”

The man was slightly embarrassed by the Governor’s remarks but had truly believed in the Governor’s mission and felt that his contribution to such a great feat would help balance things out in the eyes of God for some of the work he had done in the past.
“Thank you my lord. It has truly been an honour and I am grateful to have been involved with such a great project. Please hurry! There are some minor details to complete but the major construction is over.” Walter then headed for the door waving the Zirn to follow.

Zirn assembled himself and headed out towards the new Cathedral. He walked to the location instead of the riding and mingled amongst the people as he made his way. Many of the pedestrians not knowing the great feat that had been accomplished. Karl thought to himself they will soon know because they will be the converted. This will be great place of worship that will rival any Cathedral in the known world.

As he got closer he began to slow down and catching the glimpses of the structure in the skyline amongst the lower buildings around it. When he finally got out to the main through way heading towards the building a great emotion overwhelmed him. He had deliberately stayed away the reaming year when he left Walter in charge. He heard many comments but would not go and sneak a peak.

The scaffolding was gone from the front and the last crane was being disassembled. He soaked in the view of the majestic front. The Cathedral face was that of the standard Western architecture with 2 spiraling towers at it front corners and a huge rectangular stain glass mural in the front. However, when he came around to view the sites the building transformed itself taking on the architecture of all the Eastern lands. There were gold domes and spires on its sides and the rear of the building the sanctuary was finished off in an amphitheater shape. The building was alive and seemed to transform from the different views Karl would take. It would almost be difficult for one to readily recognize it's faith if they were not to familair with church architecture.

The interior displayed the workmanship of both Western and Eastern artisans. There was earthly material of fine minerals and diamonds to simple ore. Wood from all reaches of the Reich. This was truly a magnificent house of worship.

When Karl got to the sanctuary he placed the Veil of Veronica in a very ornate box that was part of the centre piece of the sanctuary.

I have truly completed my mission here in the Outremer. I have completed the work the Lord had called to me to do in this land thought Karl the Honourble. Sunday will be the blessing and first service of the First Cathedral of the Outremer.

[OverKnight]

Rome, 1302

"So, I'm curious, why didn't you take my suggestion? Why did you support Dietrich's bid?"

Matthias sighed and glanced across the table at Elsebeth. An invitation to coffee had seemed innocent enough, but the Princess, true to character, was seeking information. Matthias drank a bit of the strong brew to give himself time to think.

"I doubt I would have had the support of the Diet. Defying the will of the Kaiser and a third straight term, I wouldn't have had the votes."

Elsebeth narrowed her eyes and ran her finger along the edge of her cup, "Really? And you thought Sir von Dassel would garner more support? I know you better than that, why not do it yourself? Why risk defying the Kaiser with a proxy?"

Matthias stared down at his cup, "Even if the Diet bent down on their knees and begged me, I would not have served a third term. I doubt that they would have done that anyway. Most of them are like that weasel Hans, half-hearted praise and muttering about how they would have done it better. Even if you do the job well, you wear out your welcome. And Dietrich was not a proxy. . .I supported his Charter Amendment because I felt the Kaiser was out of touch and not qualified to serve as Chancellor. However, I was not willing to run against him, von Dassel was, so I supported his bid."

Elsebeth raised an eyebrow, "But you voted against his Edict in the end, why?"

Matthias grimaced, "Not my finest hour. It was doomed to fail, and von Dassel had made a hash of enlisting support, enraged half the Diet in fact. I got off a sinking ship."

Elsebeth chuckled, "Well at least you still have a County, if not a command. Are you looking forward to your 'missionary' work?"

Matthias rolled his eyes, "Ah, good King Jan, the sanctimonious prig. It wouldn't surprise me if he was in bed with the Kaiser. Those Imperial edicts were rolled out right at the start, and he seconded all of them in a flash. He does owe his position to Siegfried, and it's not like he can expect a warm welcome in Franconia if he loses it."

"So what now? Will you stay in Outremer, return to Bavaria? Perhaps raise your banner in rebellion like Ulrich Hummel? That was at Adana, your Citadel, was it not?"

Laughing ruefully, Matthias drank the dregs of his coffee, "God forbid, things don't look good, with half of Italy gone Purple and the Kaiser gracefully donating a Sicilian territory to us, but rebellion? No."

Matthias paused and thought a bit, "As for what I am going to do? I don't know. I'd been Chancellor so long, I don't know what to do with myself now that I'm just a Count. I'm not really needed in Bavaria, but Outremer is a shadow of its former self. All I do know is that this unification business has to be stopped."

Looking at Matthias quizzically, Elsebeth refilled his cup.

"Why? One of the last acts of your term was to aid the Byzantines near Caesarea, why turn against them now?"

Matthias looked at Elsebeth and his eyes narrowed.

"Caesarea was a. . .peace offering, and not for the Byzantines. It is one thing to aid an ally, to bolster a friendly buffer state, it is another to treat with them as equals. We are an Empire, they are a remnant of one. Without us, they would not have Iconium or Caesarea, and most likely would have been picked off by the Turks or Hungarians by now. If the First Crusade hadn't intercepted those three Jihad armies, the heathens would be in Constantinople, and their 'Empire' would be nothing but a memory."

Elsebeth gave Matthias an appraising gaze over the rim of her cup.

"The Kaiser, the Kaiserin, the Prinz and most of the Electors are behind Unification, it would be unwise of you to oppose it. You did not follow my last suggestion, my dear, I hope you follow this one. Do not get in their way, you will gain nothing by opposing Unification, and could lose a great deal."

Matthias set down his cup with more force than necessary, "This isn't a matter to be bartered for influence. Unification is folly! We grow weaker while the Byzantines feed off our greatness! The Kaiser seems to listen to his wife more than his Electors, and her claws will only dig deeper the further we go with this farce. No good will come of it! What has been split asunder cannot be rejoined. To try, is to invite disaster."

Matthias rose and bowed to the Princess.

"I am sorry Highness, but I have travel arrangements to make. I must supervise the work on the Royal Arsenal at Adana. If I cannot lead men in the field, I will least help arm them. Good day."

After Matthias had left, Elsebeth sat a while deep in thought. Matthias had reached his potential and more, she had chosen wisely, but his star was now in descent. It was time to consider alternatives.

It was time to speak to Kaiserin Theodora.

[econ21]

This is a co-op story written by Privateerkev and econ21.

King Jan goes to the Vatican, 1302


As Jan waited in the antechamber, he saw the inner door open and out slipped a dark haired, regal woman. Her eyes immediately found Jan and she smiled a rich smile, then she approached warmly, almost skipping over to him. Although in her mid-forties, she moved with a zest and freedom that belied her age and station.

“You must be King Jan, I assume? It is such a pleasure to meet you at last. I am Theodora.”

Jan bows to the lady, "My Empress, it is an honor to finally meet you in person."

“I heard you had an audience with his Holiness scheduled for today, so I thought I would catch you first. I have so wanted to meet you. You are one of the Reich’s young rising stars - one of the few to adhere to the old Frankish code of chivalry.”

Jan's cheek's flush, "You do me a great honor my Empress but I fear I have not done as much as you let on. But enough about me. How are you? Have you settled in? How do you like our fair and grand capital?"

“Oh, the city is wonderful. It reminds me of past ages - of what once was and what could be again.” the Empress’s face clouds and she says sadly. “But the people, you will excuse me Jan - I can call you Jan, can’t I? - some of the people are positively beastly! Like that Peter von Kastilien - such a foul mouth! They all hate me and worse, I swear, some of them would see me dead.”

"Of course you can call me Jan my Empress. I apologize that some of my peers get a little... raucous. But, I assure you it is simply the nature of politics. The Diet gets contentious because people feel so much is on the line when they go in there. Any perceived slight, any perceived insult, is seen as a threat to people's agenda and they pounce on it with great ferocity," Jan says in an attempt to convince the Empress.

“King Jan, you are a good man but you are fooling no one. I am a foreigner, a woman past her prime, alone in this hostile city. There may come a day when I call upon you for your protection. Perhaps you will remember this moment if that day comes? But tell me this - I simply do not understand - why I am so hated?”

Jan straightens up and becomes serious, "My Empress, you are married to mein Kaiser. It is my duty to protect you. The Kaiser rules by divine right. Therefore, he is God's chosen ruler for the Reich. I will serve him faithfully until the end of my days. As his wife, that extends to you." Jan's expression softens a little, "Plus, during the Diet when I was first appointed, I had a pretty hard time and was left quite discouraged. Your letter lifted my spirits and I will never forget your words of kindness. As for the current atmosphere in the Diet, I believe that has to do with unification. Many men fear change. They build up their own little fiefdoms and are afraid of anything that could possibly damage that. My best advice would be to not take it personally."

“But why are the German nobility so hostile to reunification? Do they not see they would effectively be gaining a vassal, a powerful servant who could fight with them to guard the east against the Mohammedans and the pagans? Why do they despise a loyal Orthodox ally more than their many Catholic neighbours who daily fight with them? If Byzantium guards your back, you would be free to crush the Poles, the Hungarians, the Danes and the French!”

Jan thinks for a moment and then answers, "many in the Diet fear outsiders. These men are generals who have been fighting their whole adult lives. Many of us have lost dear friends and family. War tends to create an us-versus-them mentality. I have tried, during my whole political career, to combat that idea. I believe that we are all God's children. While I will not hesitate to strike down someone who raises their weapon against me, I will love them and try to save them the moment they put the weapon down. Such is the will of our Lord. Maybe one day we will strive to be better than who we are and live up to what the Lord sees in us. Hope of that eventuality is what gets me through each day. I support unification because I believe it will help bring about a change for good in this world. A unified church can serve more people and spread the Word farther and faster. A unified Roman Empire will be the beacon that will cast the light of the Lord across the land."

“Jan, it seems that my informants were right to commend you so highly. You are indeed wise and kind. While men of your calibre still hold influence in the Reich, the cause of unification will not die. But I must not keep you from your audience with the Holy Father. Afterwards, we shall have lunch, together, yes? I would so much like to learn of your time in Outremer and all the amazing things you have been doing there.”

"My Empress, I am not so optimistic as you regarding how much influence I hold but I do appreciate your kind words. I would be honored to dine with you when I am done meeting the Holy Father." Jan bows to Theodora and walks towards the door.

*****

Jan's heart beat faster as he entered. This is the most important meeting of my life. I better not !@#$ this up, Jan thought to himself.

As Jan entered, a tall knight approached, dress in full plate and wearing the Papal livery. Jan’s face broke into a smile as he recognized the imposing figure as Sir Reinhold Schimdt - a veteran of the crusade which brought Jan to the Holy Land.

“Brother” said Reinhold, “It is a great day to meet you ago in this most holy of places. We must catch up later, but now let me introduce you to the Pontiff.”

Pope Abbate made an unprepossessing figure as he hobbled over to meet King Jan. He was short, plump and stooped. He spoke softly and at times almost seemed to be muttering. But he radiated an inner calm and conviction, so that Jan felt compelled to strain to catch his every word.

“King Jan, I cannot begin to thank you and the Reich for your service to the Papacy. For many years now, your men have fought and died to protect the Holy Land. You have been a Christian bulwark against all Mohammedans and heathens. You even vanquished the fearsome Horse Lords. Truly, it is an honour to have the King of Outremer visit me.”

Jan kneels to the floor and kisses the ring, "Your Holiness, it is I who am honored. All I have done is my duty to the Lord and to my Kaiser."

“But tell me, my son, what brings you to me? You seem concerned and I am guessing this is not just a social visit.”

Jan stands back up, "Your Holiness, there has been talk in the Diet regarding our impending unification with the Eastern Roman Empire. It has been said that there will be a unification of the Church as well. Quite simply, I need to know if you approve of this. You are the successor of Peter and your word on this will be law as far as I am concerned."

The Pope looks childlike and places a chubby hand on Jan’s arm, barely containing his pleasure:

“I can tell you my son - you shall be one of the first to hear! It is done! I will announce it later in the week, but the Patriach of Constantinople has agreed - they will unify with us, the Church will be whole again!”

Jan was a bit shocked that the religious unification went so smoothly, "My Holiness, this is wonderful news, but how did it happen? I didn't expect it to come about so easily."

The Pontiff relaxes and sits back, recounting events in a detached tone.

“To be honest, I believe it was politics. The great schism was never about belief or doctrine. It was merely recognition of the temporal divide of Western Europe from the Eastern Roman Empire. A man cannot have two masters. And nor can a church. But as the politics changes, so can the church. The Kaiser gave up Naples and Palermo. In exchange, Emperor Isaac has given up his church.”

Jan is surprised a bit to hear the issue of religious unification broken down into a matter of politics, "Thats it? This was about land?"

“But Jan, you are a devout man. Can you tell me one point of doctrine on which the Catholic church disagreed with the Orthodox? The Filoque clause? That the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son? That is a triviality - it has no bearing on the central message of our Lord or the real work of the church, to save souls. We will drop that clause from the Nicocene Creed - it is the price of religious re-unification. But to bring together the brothers of the faith, it is a trivial price, eminently worth paying.”

"A wise move Holy Father but what about you? As I mentioned before, you are the successor of Peter. As such, you are the Lord's agent here on Earth. How will you rank with regards to the Patriarch?"

“Rome will be the final court of appeal in the united Church, but I will not stand ahead of the Patriarch. He will be master in the east and I in the west. We cannot insist on Papal infallibility. I mean, look at me - a short fat old man! Am I infallible? Was Pope Gregory infallible when he excommunicated Kaiser Heinrich? Papal infallibility is the kind of nonsense men only pretend to believe because they are so blinkered and conforming.”

Jan thinks a bit on what the Pope has said, "His Holiness, it is refreshing to hear a great man be so humble before the Lord. I believe that religious unification would be a good thing for everyone. It would help to spread the Word. As Saint Cyprian of Carthage said, 'Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus'."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

OOC: it means, "Outside the Church there is no salvation". That phrase sums up Jan's beliefs better than anything. Also, it is interesting that "Unam Sanctum" came about in 1302. I suggest you "wiki" both terms. Their interesting reads.

“You know, Jan, God often puts a man into the world for only one purpose. A man may live his entire life, amounting to nothing. But one day, he may pass by a river and in that river he may see a child drowning. That one day may be why he has been put on this earth. After that day, he may drink, womanise and waste away. But on that day, the Holy Spirit may shine through him and in his rescue of that drowning child, may give meaning to the man’s whole life.”

The Pontiff wipes a tear from his eye, caught up in the moment:

“I believe I was put on this earth for one purpose. And it is done. God’s children are reunited again and whatever fate has in store for me, I can die content in knowing that I have been an instrument of the Lord in this great endeavour.”

The Pope comes out of his reverie and turns to Jan:

“But Jan, I feel that you have not yet served your purpose. As I say, I am not infallible - I cannot tell you what your purpose is. But watching your progress through the Diet to the throne of Outremer, I see you have had your own baptism. God has forged you to be a pious man, a man of honour. Whatever trials await you down the road, he has fashioned a mighty instrument that can be relied upon to do what is right. Come to me child and receive my blessing…”

Jan kneels before the Pope full of purpose and hope.

[econ21]

Acre, 1204


“Have you read these?” Linyeve threw the books down in front of Elberhard.

The Prinz squinted, reading was not his forte. Elberhard’s eyes widened as he read the titles:

“Why the Pope and his Recent Book are Burned” by Alexander Luther

”On the Byzantines and their lies” by Alexander Luther

“Against the Papacy Established by the Devil.” by Alexander Luther

The Prinz scratched his head and looked pained: “Who the @#$%^&!!! is Alexander Luther? And what the @#$%^&!!! is his problem?”

Linyeve sat down on a chair opposite Elberhard, her eyes boring into the Prinz: “Luther is a Augustinian monk. He lectures at the University of Wittenberg. He was inspired to enter the monastic life after being hit by a lightning bolt..."

Elberhard interrupted: "Well I suppose something like that might put you off going outside..." he joked feebly.

Linyeve gave the Prinz a withering look: "Well, I suppose the event does explain a lot about the man. ... You weren't also struck by lightning in your youth, were you darling?... But to get back to your question - Alexander Luther's problem, apparently, is that he doesn’t like Byzantines.”

Elberhard picked up one of the books and started to read. His painful and halting delivery made Linyeve stand impatiently and snatch the book from his hands. She enunciated clearly:

“The devil's feces ... which they wallow in like swine”

Elberhard rubbed his chin.

“We are at fault in not slaying them.”

Elberhard scratched his cheek.

“Let not your sword grow cold from blood.”

“All right, all right - I get the idea. He doesn’t like Byzantines.” protested Elberhard.

“And the Papacy, now that it has unified.” added Linyeve.

“He doesn’t like Pope Abbate?” queried the Prinz. “Well, I admit, he’s not the most prepossessing of leaders, but he is a sweet old guy and his heart is in the right place.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” snapped Linyeve. “This has gone far beyond personal likes and dislikes. You think you have been having a rough ride in the Diet? That will be nothing compared to the ride you will get on the streets. This mad monk has followers. Already it is starting in some cities - the smashing of statues and images in churches, and denunciations of the magistracy.”

Elberhard whistled. “@#$%^&!!!ing hell! What can I do?”

“Sharpen your sword.” answered the Princess.

[Northnovas]

A Governor’s Farewell – Acre 1204

The sun was an orange fireball hanging on to the last rays of daylight over the Mediterranean Sea. The reflection of the sun over the water was a shimmering gold as it calmly lapped up to the shore.

On the beach was a great tent filled with many men. The men were there to bid farewell to Karl Zirn the Governor of Damascus. The men came from all walks and faiths from the city and surrounding area. They had formed a large caravan with the Governor’s entourage to see him off. The Governor had created a city of religious tolerance for all the Christians, Jews and Muslims. He was a Crusader and fought many Muslims while in the Outremer but not everyone is a soldier and he knew that men needed a sanctuary. He is considered a living saint amongst the populace and even respected by his enemies like no man before him.

The men sat in a large circle eating fruit and breaking bread. There were refreshments of wine and other drinks for the respective guest. There was no tavern talk even though the occasion was heavy on most there was an air of celebration that a meal can be shared to honour the Governor.

Karl the Honourable was thought by many to be destined a patron saint of knights demonstrating what every Crusader would hope to achieve before God and his peers. The men chatted the evening away and many tributes were made to the Governor.

The loyalty these men showed to Karl was only demonstrated by Karl’s loyalty to his Lord, Kaiser, Duke and men. The locals and peers admire his loyalty and speak far and wide as the epitome of selfless obedience and is universally admired for it.

The evening was coming to a close and Karl bid farewell to each of the guest present.

“Your Kaiser must need you somewhere very important to have you taken from us. You will be missed greatly” said the mayor of the city bidding him farewell. Karl nodded in agreement he had not disclosed his reason for leaving and there were many rumors.

“That priest in Rome must want you back there very much for the good work you have done here with our peoples” spoke a local merchant shaking the Governor’s hand. Karl agreed with the man and continued his farewells.

A local priest from the Byzantine lands approached Karl and gave a blessing. “Thank you for your work here Karl. The churches being united you must have more important work to do for your Kaiser. Godspeed” and he offered a prayer.

Karl thanked him and walked out of the tent to the pier were the boats were moored. The goodbyes continued as he walked along the beach and waved through the darkness to his many friends.

He had time to think and the kind words given to him. He had some doubts about leaving but knew this was no longer his calling that his work was needed home or elsewhere. He had prayed and that was what was spoken to him to leave.

There was much going on and he was confused and concerned. What was the Kaiser really thinking on this unification of not only faith but lands and cultures? It could work as he demonstrated in Damascus but that was one city not an Empire. His loyalty to the Kaiser and the Reich was absolute there was no other way. He gave his life for its cause and work here in the Outremer. No one could take away what he had accomplished no matter how out of touch or outlandish the statements were made towards him.

However, the Kaiser’s actions are suspicious and possible not the Kaiser’s actions at all. Maybe there is some sinister plot behind him and the Reich was in for some very dark time. The nobles must know it wasn’t about one’s allegiance to a man but it must be for the cause the Reich itself that should be fought and defended. Only working has one body in unity.

As Karl walked in the darkness he thought of the darkness that will face the Reich. Though looking up towards the sky he could see the stars making there mark there was no moon but their brightness was piercing the darkness. The light was the answer. There has to be answers to what is darkening the Reich and causing confusion and Karl was determined to find some answers when he returned home.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Well there was a lot of traits in the ole Crusader and thought to point the main ones out in the story.

[Tamur]

Fritz the Populist

Fritz von Kastilien walked briskly past the vendors in the market outside the Diet. It was a clear fall day, the trees had just begun to turn, and the smell of freshly cooked Eisbein filled the air. Ah, the day could not be finer. There was a newness to everything. The mists had cleared, the doubts fled. Time stood still on this day, seeming to turn on a very small point.

The point, in fact, of Alexander Luther's pen.

His attention was captured by a knot of people gathered near one of the fruit vendors. He strolled over, his priest Athelstan following, only near enough to be in earshot.

"...Péter..."

"...can't believe they would..."

"...how are we supposed to go on..."

Fritz strode closer quickly and used his announcement voice. "Excuse me, I am Fritz von Kastilien, Péter's brother. You were talking about him?"

Immediately the entire crowd turned and stared. Several of the woman gasped. Fritz tried to smile pleasantly, though he fingered the three scars on the right side of his face self-consciously.

One of the men finally stammered out, "We were just speaking of how brave he is." The others nodded, while Fritz smiled encouragingly.

"Indeed!" piped up a voice from the back. "It was only yesterday we heard the news. Péter gone off to fight the Byzantines!" A hesitant cheer went up from the crowd. The ones in the front row shrank back a bit.

Fritz looked for a moment at Athelstan, then addressed the crowd. "I am grateful for your encouraging words. Unlike many in the Diet, I and Péter have read Luther's words. We know what you must feel.

"A new age has awakened, my friends. We have slowly been falling into the dark, and Luther has awakened us to our duty, as Christians. We have been slothful towards God and under the burden of a Papacy who is obviously out of touch with both reality and God's word! If we continue in the same path, then all will be lost.

"I say we, but perhaps you know what I mean."

*Fritz stopped and turned on his heel, then pointed at the Diet building*

"That building. That building houses those who wish to continue on the same dark path to destruction."

*Fritz returned his gaze to look over the group in front of him. The people were plainly hanging on his every word, and he smiled inside*

"Is that what you want, my fellow citizens of the Reich?"

"No!" came a few voices.

"Will we live under the false and Byzantine-owned Papacy?"

"No!" came more voices.

"Will we submit our lives to the will of a dictator in Constantinople?"

"No!" came a surge of sound from the crowd. Others had gathered now, ringing Fritz and Athelstan.

"Then I will remain yours, my friends, and I will accost every one of the electors who walks into that Diet chamber, until they throw me out. And we, all of us, will refuse to back down until the Reich returns to glory!"

A cheer rang through the street.

"Until the Byzantine kingdom has been crushed!"

Another cheer.

"Until Alexander Luther sits on the Papal throne!"

A final, loud and lasting cheer coursed through the street. Men came to slap Fritz on the back, and shake his hand.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Ragusa, 1304

A man on a horse and his small entourage approached the front gates of the citadel. The usual garrison on duty that day was not present. Instead, a handful of men personally selected by the Governor of Ragusa, Dietrich von Dassel, stood ready to let the man in.

Dietrich was there too, ready to personally intervene in case anything went wrong. Nothing did, however, and the man and his entourage entered the citadel with little fanfare or incident. Just as planned. Dietrich made his way up to the man, who dismounted. They shook hands, cautiously.

"So this is the great Alexander Luther who has incited so much recently. I was expecting a bit more. I keep forgetting that you're a monk."

Luther chuckled, about the most anybody could get out of the man. He was rumored to be stern, as the extremely pious usually are. "You will find that we men of the Bible can be as influential as you men of iron and steel. Indeed, I believe you already have."

"Frankly, I was hoping to cause a little bit of popular unrest myself in the Diet when I stood for Chancellor," said Dietrich. "Congratulations on accomplishing what I could not. You have the Reich in full rebellion against the current agenda."

"And thank you," said Luther, "for granting me refuge and asylum in this time of backlash against me. While I admit that the tearing down of the Houses of the Lord was a bit... much... it gets our message heard. Which is where, I believe, that we share common goals."

"You are correct," said Dietrich. "The Kaiser must be stopped, that much is clear. His incompetence and disdain for the Diet has put us in dark times, indeed. So far he has two major goals; completion of which will forever harm the Reich and put the greatest empire in the world under Byzantine control. They are religious re-unification, your bete noire, as my French friends would put it, and political re-unification, which I have been arguing against. The two of these are tightly linked, for a pro-religious Pope would argue for political, and the Kaiser and his lackeys will argue for religious as well. Therefore, I offered you asylum so that we may work together."

"Which I am most grateful for," said Luther. "Travel is too dangerous now. The public can hide me well enough, but the Dukes... well, the Dukes have the military. And right now the military is out to get me, especially that Hans."

"Do not speak to me about Hans," Dietrich said with clear disdain. "It is because of his willingness to abandon me to the wolves that I am here in Ragusa and not fighting the French as I should be.

"Ragusa is your new home for as long as you wish it to be," he continued. "I shall do whatever is in my power to protect you and keep you safe. You will find all of the resources that you need to continue spreading your word."

"And in return?"

"In return, it's rather simple. Don't tear down my church, and don't do anything that would incite sentiment against me. This would be both from Electors and the common people, although I would prefer it if I had the support of the peasants should you be faced with a choice."

"That sounds agreeable," finished Luther. "May your further endeavors be successful, sir Dietrich."

"And yours, Luther." The two men shook and walked to their jobs; two outcasts helping one another out.

[gibsonsg91921]

Somewhere in the wilderness between Franconia and Constantinople, 1304

I have set off. My armies are sufficiently large to do what must be done - to cleanse the world of the Greek menace.

That fool Theodora only fed my rage - clinched the deeds that I plan to do. Fritz may be the only friend I have not in these two armies.

Two armies. I have the Prussian Army - which I hear is no longer the official First Franconian Household Army, no longer the official Prussian Army. Ridiculous, isn't it? I made this army. These men are loyal to me. Loyal to their starving families my brother Siegfried casts aside with his sanctions to the Byzantine Empire. This is the real Prussian Army, no matter what false army they create back home. This army is Péter's Immortals.

The other army, of course, is from the garrison of Vilnius and is shadowing my force. Tancred von Tyrolia - I knew I could trust that man from the second I laid eyes on him - is at its head, loyally following the cause. The cause of what is right. I will never submit to these Orthodox fools - leeching off of our generosity for years at witless allies while preaching against us in their pathetic churches that the Old Man wants to unite with. Bah! I retch at the thought.

Lars and Ulrich have returned with information. Duke Hans of Swabia, a man who I have had many encounters with, good and bad, is in pursuit of me with the Imperial Army. The fool. I do not intend to kill Germans, but I will not risk the loss of the truth.

Péter von Kastilien, the last hope for the Reich
Commander of the Immortals

[AussieGiant]

Krakow 1304

Arnold looked on as various elements of the 2nd AHA ran through the streets looting anything they could find. Smoke was pouring from a number of the great Polish houses that had obviously not fared well in the sacking taking place.

As the Duke and his heavily armed retinue made their way towards the Governors House a young girl careened out of a side alley, her skirts hitched up allowing her to run as fast as humanly possible. A moment later the all too familiar sight of some over zealous men appeared.

A quick nod to Grom was more than enough to have the big barbarian knock the two men senseless, his clothes line hit on both men lifted them off their feet and left them reeling on the sodden earth.

Peering at the livery of the half conscious men, Arnold glanced at Szczepanski, his Sword Bearer.

"Tell Jansen his “Two Hander’s” better start showing some discipline or I’ll have one in ten hung to make my point.”

The Sword Bearer’s eyes widened at the order, a moment before he was about to protest, the Dread Knight’s armoured helm turned in his direction…the effect was, as usual a chilling site to behold. Many orders were accompanied by the unnatural gaze of Bane, and many orders were simply followed because of it.

“Ahh, yes my Lord, at once.” With that Szczepanski summoned a nearby horse and quickly galloped off to inform the Regimental captain of the order.

The Duke and his retinue continued their progress towards the governor house. As the group progressed the Duke was clearly lost in thought, oblivious to the looting and destruction occurring around him.

It was finally done. Decades of fighting had finally lead to its fall, now of course the Franconian’s would want it incorporated into their house. #$# it he thought, his life was going to be one long war and with no family to speak of it was all he had, there would simply be more battles to fight and Krakow was just another one.

His spirits lifted as he thought of Karl Zirn and his sister returning to Austria, he had never seen his sister’s children and he was keen to see how they had grown.

And just as it came, his mood swung back to that of dread.

The Reich…it was seemingly on a downward spiral. Rogue nobles, mad ideas of reunification, a Kaiser that seems to have taken his eye of what his true responsibilities are.

Siegfried had clearly failed to consult both his nobles and the people when it came to his grand plan. The Church was clearly having difficulty pulling its own priest and clergymen into line with the agreements being made at the top…something that was simultaneously occurring in the Diet with the Kaisers own nobility.

How could anyone possibly make a power play of such magnitude without having confirmed substantial support before hand…the man was clearly mad or being influenced by outside forces not of the Holy Roman Empire.

Still he thought, unless he was faced with a clear act of treason or a complete break down of the Reich he was a Duke of the Realm and charged with a number of responsibilities and no one was going to ever suggest he didn’t do what he duty bound to do…at least for the moment.

Just then another scream broke his train of thought…at the front of the Governors house was another scene reminiscent of the last. A woman of striking beauty was dashing from the front hallway. Behind her another pair of Two Hander’s in close pursuit.

“Christ!!! Where’s Szczepanski and Jensen!! This is getting out of hand!!”

Drawing his father’s sword the Duke moved to intercept.

“Hold!!” Bane’s hallow voice rasped across the area. The Dukes retinue and personal bodyguard froze as they watched their Duke meat out justice.

Taking his sword in a hand and a half grip, the Duke’s lightning swing took the first “Two Hander’s” helm completely off his shoulders. Only the last second twist of his wrist turned the fatal blow in a crushing one as the flat of the sword did its work.

The second man skidded to a halt only a few short yards from his fallen comrade. His faced turned from cruel intent towards the women to complete horror at suddenly facing his Duke in a less than forgiving mood. Not knowing what the Dread Dukes next move was the Two Hander readied his weapon...the Dukes eyes widened in surprise.

"You defend yourself against me?

Your Liege Lord?!

Stand down now!!"

A slow but deliberate shake of the head was the soldiers’ only response.

A moment of shock passed over the Duke face.

“You sack of #%#$ing shiet. What’s this god forsaken Empire become!!!”

With a brutally fast and terribly crushing blow the Dukes sword smashed down on the half raised two handed sword of the solider. Amazingly the power of the strike smashed the weapon in two pieces, the momentum not enough to prevent the Dukes sword from striking with still considerable force on the top of the soldier’s helm. The blow knocked the soldier back but he remained standing but only long enough to have his face meet a straight right hook from the Obsidian encased right hand of Duke Arnold. The soldiers’ nose turned to a pulp and blood showered the front steps of the Governors house.

Grabbing the near unconscious soldier by his breast plate, Arnold heaved him bodily over his shoulder to land five feet away directly in front of Grom.

“String him up!! He’ll hang for that!!

Turning to Bane.

"Find Lorenz and his cavalry regiment and tell him to meet me here. He's more than earned his Knighthood after his performance this evening."

Half and hour later, and with a few more hangings, order was restored, turning a potentially out of control situation into a more normal sacking of the former Polish province of Krakow.

[econ21]

This story was written by Ituralde

Constantinople, 1304

Siegfried felt weary, way beyond his years. He hadn't slept enough in the past weeks. The negotiations had taken up much of his time. Had he enjoyed the luxury of the Bzyantine protocol at first, it slowly began to get on his nerve. He wanted to do things, not be stuck with empty gestures. And after spending such a long time within the Byzantine Palace with strong scents hanging everywhere, he felt an unknown longing for the fresh and clean mountain air on a cold Winter morning deep within Prussia.

Sighing audibly Siegfried reviews the letter in front of him. He felt like a traitor. The very thing he had been fighting to preserve, was now given on a plate to Emperor Isaac. The whole Diet would cry for his head. King Jan would hate him for this. After all the trouble he has put him through, all the efforts he has made, it looked as though it would lead to nothing.

Looking up he gazes at the starlit sky outside. Had his predecessors ever felt like this. He couldn't help but think of Emperor Heinrich. From all he had read he had been a strong man, who had spent most his life fighting against the Diet. He had gotten his will in the end though. Rome was now the capital of the Reich. All those years ago Heinrich had laid the foundation for Siegfried's work. He knew that this was a once in a lifetime chance to change the future forever.

He could not afford to let it pass. In the long run the investment would pay off tenfold. Wouldn't they celebrate him in the future as the founder of the new Roman Empire, once his son ruled after him. Much like Emperor Heinrich is now respected for his conquest and dominance against the Pope. He had been shunned by his contemporates. Just like Siegfried.

With a final sigh he pushes his signet ring into the hot wax in front of him. The letter was ready to be sent. Now the only thing left to do was to bring Emperor Isaac the good news and then travel back to Rome and face the wrath of the Diet. Had Emperor Heinrich ever felt this fear? It was too late to ask him...

[Tamur]

Mourning a Priest, the Stettin Way

Fritz had seen enough of the Diet. There was too much at stake, too much to lose, sitting there day after day, haggling over air. Air. That's what he wanted.

With a kick he moved his horse into a gallop. His retinue followed behind, onward to Stettin.

The battle with the Danes had almost been nostalgic. It would be the last in which he would meet the despicable scum of the north for a long while. Péter's attack on Constantinople had left the Franconian eastern front empty for the Poles to march into. And, as always, there were swarms of them.

But today he would not be troubled by war.

They came into sight of the outlying farms in a few minutes, and then the city walls. Fritz dismounted as he came to the gate, where a group of well-dressed figures waited.

"Olbrecht!" Fritz called out. "Good to see you. How is your family?"

"Berchtold, I heard about the shipment. You must invite me to dinner sometime!"

"Trutwin, I've brought something for your daughter's dowry."

And so on. Fritz did not have many soft spots in his heart, but the people of Stettin were one of them. The party was joined by Fritz' retinue, and they all wandered through the gate.

Though he had seen many cities sacked and buildings crumble, the sight which greeted him still was a shock. The church which had stood so proudly at the main gate of Stettin, a centrepiece of the city, still smouldered. Blackened pieces of stone lay on the grass, and half-burned timbers stood at strange angles all around. The walls still held for the most part, but large pieces had fallen from the top.

The group paused in silence. Fritz turned to the man Berchtold, who stood at his side.

"What happened to Regibald?" he asked quietly.

"Regibald." Berchtold winced. "Ah, he tried to stop it, even though we had given him warnings. I'm afraid..." Berchtold's voice fell away as he nodded in the direction of the grave field outside the walls.

Fritz stood still for a moment. "Anyone else?"

"A few cuts and breaks when some boys got too close and were hit by falling mortar. But nothing that won't heal."

Fritz nodded, then cleared his throat and smiled up at the gathered group.

"Regibald was a good priest for us," Fritz said. The group nodded.

"He had many fine qualities that we should all strive to achieve in ourselves," Fritz continued. The group made sad smiles.

Fritz's eyes narrowed to near invisibility. "And he was a papist. Let us not mourn unduly." A man in the back spat in the direction of the grave field.

"So," Fritz said to happy agreement, "let's go eat! I'm starving."

[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.

[Tamur]

The Road to Magdeburg

Horses galloped onward, their hooded riders flat against the horses' backs and necks. The thunder of hooves startled deer along the forested sides of the road. Voles scattered into the brush.

Fritz was not sure the secrecy was all that important. After all, he was known in Rome, Thorn and perhaps Hamburg, and there was where his reputation stopped.

But Berchtold had insisted they come this way, and so they sprinted on southward. The cloud-covered but bright fall sky peeked through branches overhead in rapid succession. Finally they broke through tree cover into a wide open plain, dotted with well-tilled fields. A tiny peasant village stood some way off, to the east. Ah, just a bit farther.

Suddenly the lead horse reined in. Fritz had to swerve to miss the horse in front of him and they all came to a sudden halt.

"Who goes there?" a voice yelled. A muffled curse sounded from one of the hoods. Fritz was on the back side of a small hill, and could not tell what transpired.

But Athelstan's voice reached Fritz's ears as a hood was pulled back. "Only a few travelers on God's holy errand, friends." As he spoke, he pulled back his hood to reveal the tonsure and, Fritz assumed, the small cross he wore around his neck. Fritz sighed with relief.

Athelstan continued. "I have a meeting with Brother Ulf in Magdeburg this very afternoon."

A pike appeared above the crest of the hill, then the shaft, then a soldier's helm. Nine more followed. The soldier looked over the group of riders, then looked up at Athelstan for a moment. Athelstan stayed still and gazed back directly at the soldier.

"Very well, carry on."

Five minutes later, they reined in their horses again, near the walls of the city. Fritz maneuvered to Athelstan.

"You likely saved my life," said Fritz. "And that sort of debt is not one I will forget."

Athelstan's hands were shaking. "Find me some good ale, and I'll consider it repaid. And this meeting with the magistrates had better not be a waste of time!"

Fritz grinned, fingering a scar at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, I'm told they'll be very receptive."

[econ21]

Rome, 1308


Quietly, Elberhard entered the room. His eyes lighted on the striking figure of Theodora, dressed in black. She rose, her face etched with stress and grief.

“They killed him. They murdered my poor Siegfried.”

Elberhard watched stony faced, emotionless.

Tears fell down Theodora’s face and she ran at Elberhard, then began beating on his chest.

“Why did you let them? Why didn’t you protect him? He was your King! You should have protected him!”

Elberhard stood motionless as the blows continued to rain down upon him. He could give no answer.

Theodora crumpled and fell to the floor. Elberhard caught her and gently seated her on a chair.

“You must find them - find the men who did this! And kill them all!”

Elberhard sat down opposite Theodora and looked at her calmly.

“Who did it?” said Elberhard, softly. “Someone who wanted to frustrate unification or the gifting of Outremer. Thanks to Matthias Steffen’s vote of no-confidence, we have a clear list of suspects.”

Theodora’s eyes lit up but then she despaired as Elberhard brutally crushed her hopes:

“But you must know, my lady, that list is virtually the entire Diet.”

Elberhard kept quiet about the note he had received in the last Diet - the one from “the Order”, advising him on its preferred choices for King of Outremer and Duke of Swabia. Since Siegfried’s death the thought of that polite, anonymous note had weighed increasingly on Elberhard’s mind, becoming more and more sinister.

Still thinking of the note, Elberhard continued: “There are two men I trust, my brother and King Jan. We will do our best to root out the assassins, but quite frankly, I do not envisage much success.”

“Then the assassins will have won.” said Theodora flatly.

“No.” said Elberhard, stubbornly. “I have failed Siegfried and I have failed you, but he will not have died in vain. We will continue on, as before. His death changes nothing.”

Theodora looked puzzled at Elberhard.

“We will continue to rule together, as we did when Siegfried was in Constantinople. That way Emperor Isaac will know that nothing has changed. We will oversee the gift of Outremer as Siegfried promised. At the end of this Chancellorship, we will present the issue of unification to the Diet.”

Theodora smiled irresistibly and kissed Elberhard lightly on the cheek.

Elberhard took his leave. Almost as soon as he closed the door, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. @#$%^&!!! it, thought Elberhard, I wish I had not said that.

[FactionHeir]

Somewhere between Ragusa and Zagreb, 1308 AD

"Hold position here and await orders. Ehrhart, you take your footknight regiments to secure the perimeter and make sure we are not being watched. Rudolf, you stand ready to sound the alarm if you notice anything suspicious. Peter, you take over if Rudolf is unable. To your posts men, we have much to do this day!"

Hans walked over to the scene of battle.
The attackers, whoever they were, did not bother cleaning up the mess they left behind, leaving men and horse alike rotting on the ground. Walking to each corpse, and there were few besides Siegfried's retinue, Hans half-heartedly checked for signs of life, as he was not expecting any after several days of travel to this site.

"How many men were with Siegfried when he left Constantinople, Adalberth?"
"I am not sure lord, but reports indicate around fifty cavalry."
"I wish that would do, but I need the exact count to ascertain none ran from battle or was escaped."
Adalberth shrugged and Hans returned to investigate the scene, with his retinue close-by

Of the few dead attackers, most wore no special livery that would have given hints of their origins and of those that did, they wore stitched rags of counties that had long changed hands and thus their coat of arms.

"Mercenaries"
"Mercenaries?"
"Yes m'lord, their attire suggests they came from all around the empire and were hired to attack Siegfried." spoke Ulrich, Hans' recent addition to his retinue as infantry commander.
"What makes you think that they are not mere assassins?" questioned Hans
"Assassins tend to be professionals. They do not wear random pieces of clothing, especially not a whole group of them, and they would have cleaned up the scene of battle eventually, even if chased."
"You have a point. But what about brigands?" asked Adalberth, who became interested in the discussion
"Possible, but what is the likelihood of sufficient well armed brigands Ulrich pointed at the masterwork swords and spears scattered around the field that knew the road the emperor was travelling on and had the skill to overcome fifty elite horsemen?"
"Quite low. Brigands usually cannot afford such weapons and armor and there have not been reports of convoys being waylaid recently" replied Hans

"Still, it would be difficult to track them down, although judging from the Danish incident, we might just find them at a nearby tavern, bragging about their feat" Hans continued and chuckled. It had been a while since he led that investigation and the one into Siegfried's ascension, but either had been successful eventually, yet the results not quite accepted, he added grimly to his thoughts
"To the taverns around this place then? I could use a drink." exclaimed Dirk
"Not yet. Let us wait for the patrols to return. For the moment, set up camp over there and keep guards posted in the bushes. Maybe someone witnessed the events and would speak to us if we made ourselves noticed."

Before the camp was even properly set up, two of the perimeter guards returned to the camp, prisoner in tow.
"My Duke, we found this man hiding in the bushes to the west of here. Sir Ruppel sends his regards." the soldier saluted.
"Very well. Release him from his shackles and bring him to the fire."
As the guards took the man away, Hans studied his features and attire closely. He wore the outfit of a hunter and the rags suggested that he unlikely was one of the attackers, yet Hans could not be sure. "Regardless however, this man saw something, and he will tell us what he knows." Hans added in his thoughts.

Hours passed interrogating the man, with Hans and his retinue asking poignant questions, questioning his intentions and answers, and turning words against him in an attempt to confuse him if he were lying. After they had the information they wanted, Hans threw the man a pouch of florins and offered him some of the rations from the supply train. Then he wrote a quick note of passage, sealed it, and handed it to the man, instructing him to meet him in Rome by the winter.
As the man left the camp, Hans took a regiment of footknights under Ehrhart and his retinue north. Either him or the attackers would not see the dawn.

*****

The road-side tavern was run down and its name was no more inviting either, being called "Zum trüben Ritter". It would be suitable however once the attackers inside were slain, if they still resided here of course.
Hans had Ehrhart surround the location with the footknight regiment, all bearing make-shift torches and in the sparse moonlit night, it almost seemed as if the knights were an angry mob being led by the Duke of Swabia in a revolt. The scene of course was far from the truth, although talks of Hans' attempt to force Siegfried's abdication still made the round in taverns around the empire, with riots taking place in many of its major cities.
Hans himself however, did not stand behind the circle of knights to command them, but rather was the lone man who moved towards the entrance of the establishment. Those men of the Imperial army who had not served long under him were surprised at his valor or foolishness, yet those in his retinue knew that Hans was certain of his actions and that he was always found at the frontline of battle.
When Hans pushed open the creaking door, he had his sword sheathed to not draw too much unwanted attention and surveyed the attendees. The barroom was crowded as the man had foretold and the rugged and ragged men were dressed not unsimilar to those dead that he had found earlier in the day, and their weapons were no worse than the ones his own retinue carried. It seemed he was in luck.

Hans stomped his boot on the floor to announce himself. Immediately, the entire room stared at him, some warily, some almost to invite him to the round. Very few others yet drew steel and rose. Calmly, Hans raised his arm and through his sheer authority, all fell quiet and those armed lowered their weapons.

"Hail, warriors. It seems you are having a grand celebration in here. Care if I join you and learn what it is that deserves raising a cup to the Lord?" Hans spoke loudly and clearly, with a taunting undertone.

Some of the gathered started to whisper to each other, while others became even warier of his presence. One of the men, quite red-faced and clearly drunk, rose.
"We've killed tha' scum o' Siegfridd tha'as b'en a turncoat t' the B'zzant'ns. Ischn't tha' righ' m' fellows? Eh? Give me mo' ale ey!"
"Jonas you idiot, do you have to tell that to everyone?" shouted another immediately after the drunkard had finished. "Now we have to kill him to make sure he won't tell argh!"

Several more of the men drew steel and walked closer to Hans, who still stoof with his arm raised, calmly observing the mercenaries. Hans suddenly felt a presence behind him, but it was only Ehrhart.

"Drop your weapons! Before you stands Duke Hans the Mighty of Swabia, Grand Marshall of the Imperial armies and Chief-Investigator in service of Emperor Elberhard the Champion. You are all under arrest!" were the words that came from behind him and Hans immediately cursed under his breath. Did this upstart really have to ruin his plan to peacefully subdue the mercenaries? Now there surely would be bloodshed.

"We are so dead, what should we do?"
"Damn it, they got us, they are at the windows!"
"I surrender!"
Yet most loudly to Hans' despair "Attack! They will not get us alive!"

Ehrhart ran out to rally the men as the tavern rose as one armed man and started erecting barricades inside. Hans still stood in his place, in anger at both Ehrhart and the mercenaries who dared raise their weapons against him. Hans drew his sword and backed slowly from the tavern door, while taunting the mercenaries to come out to attack him with his other hand.
As he stood outside the door, Hans bellowed orders to lay fire to the tavern to smoke out the mercenaries.

After a short while, that seemed as if an eternity, men started running out of the tavern or jumping through the windows even from the upper floor, coughing and holding rags over their faces to cover themselves. Few were able to raise their weapons in their condition and all were subdued with exception of eight who had to be struck down.

"Chain them and assign guards. We return to camp men. Good work."
A cheer rung through the night as the victorious knights bounds their prisoners and celebrated not losing a single man. As they walked back to camp, Hans had a word with Ehrhart who eventually agreed that he should have been more considerate rather than exposing their agenda.

*****

Very late that night, Hans sat by a make-shift desk in his tent, scribbling words to his brother, who was now emperor. Some men in the diet would not like this turn of events, but justice had to be done. Besides, his agents had brought quite intriguing intelligence on Dassel's intentions at Ragusa that needed to be taken care of.

[gibsonsg91921]

The Prison of Rome, 1310

Peter receives the grave news.

"That isn't what I wanted..."

He weeps quietly.

[OverKnight]

North of Adana, 1310

Matthias had returned to Adana. The news of the planned handover of Outremer to the Greeks had galvanized him and he had taken the first ship back to the Levant. The Diet was in chaos, half of them seemed mired in rebellion, the other half, denial. There seemed little point arguing there anymore, but here in Outremer he could hold onto something tangible. Make sure the Byzantines never laid their hands on Adana, the site of the First Crusade's greatest triumphs and the first settlement of Outremer. If the Greeks couldn't take the Citadel, they would have a hell of a time occupying the rest of Outremer, unless they felt like going through Turk territory.

The death of the Kaiser changed nothing, Matthias hadn't returned for the funeral or the coronation of the new Kaiser. He didn't feel it was safe to leave Adana. His suspicions were confirmed when Elberhard had foolishly sought to continue with Siegfried's plan. This very year Adana was supposed to be handed over to the Greeks. That wasn't going to happen, not if he could help it.

"My Lord, Kurt thinks he has found their camp, what should we do?"

A question from one of his men brought Matthias back to the present. He and his escort were in the mountains north of Adana trying to track down a band of Turkish bandits. Pleas for assistance had been pouring into Adana from the local villages, and Matthias, pleased to have something to do, had personally seen to it. Best to see to the concerns of the small folk lest they revolt as they had in other parts of the Reich.

Matthias peered through the moonlit darkness, as if trying to spy the camp himself.

"He's sure, Jurgen? The bandits are there?"

"Aye Lord, the sentries didn't see him, the rest are abed and they match the description given to us."

Matthias thought a moment, twirling the Seal of Solomon on his ring finger, and then made up his mind. Placing his gauntlets on, he spoke.

"We'll ride in, kill the sentries and the rest when they wake. I don't feel like being subtle tonight."

Matthias's retinue charged into the small mountain glade that contained the bandit's hideout. The sentries died first, followed by half-dressed bandits roused from their tents. They were slaughtered by the light of a rather large camp fire, a mistake Matthias wouldn't have made.

Soon enough, the Imperial Horsemen were milling about the camp looking for survivors. It had been easy, Matthias thought, the glade provided some cover but it was in a depression of the forest. It was too easy to be caught in it, ringed by trees and high ground. Despite their nasty reputation, the Turks had chosen a poor site.

It was then that Matthias saw Kurt, his scout, galloping out of the camp. Terror and guilt were splashed across his features as he looked back. A feeling of dread suddenly rose in the Count.

"Scheisse! It's an ambush! Get out!"

As soon as the words we spoken, bowstrings sung and arrows flew out of the darkness. Half his escort were down in an instant. An arrow glanced off his armor, while three took his Charger in the flank and neck. The animal screamed in pain, bucked, reared and collapsed. Matthias tired to leap free, but the dead animal crashed to the ground, crushing and pinning his left leg. Matthias cried out as the world turned white and then seemed to recede. Around him he could hear the screams of his men and the sound of battle.

Trapped, Matthias could only watch half conscious as shadows came forth from the darkness clutching spears and axes as arrows continued to fly. Now his men were slaughtered. Jurgen managed to gallop out of the clearing, two arrows in him, but horsemen, with bows aloft, emerged from the trees and rode after him. Soon after, a single scream echoed through the the night as the camp itself became hushed, except for the moans of wounded men.

The shadows became Turks, moving in among the wounded, ending their cries. A few circled Matthias, laughing, one roughly removed his helm. His vision began to swim, but Matthias could hear them talking in their foul language, all he could make out was his own name.

A man strode towards Matthias through the Turks, who were now busy looting the dead. He, oddly enough, appeared to be a Greek, a military man by his bearing and dress. Standing over him, the eyes of the Greek danced with fire light. A small cold smile broke his features as he looked down on his prey.

Matthias struggled to speak.

"Why?"

The Greek's boot lashed out, catching him in the temple. The world went black.


Later

Water splashed into Matthias's face, bringing him back to consciousness. A fire burned in his left leg.

"Welcome to Caesarea, Matthias. I'm glad you could finally join us in the Citadel you claimed to help liberate."

Sputtering, Matthias groggily looked up. He was in a dank room, most likely in the dungeon of Caesarea, if that was to be believed. The Greek stood before him holding a bucket. Looking down, his left leg was splinted, blood seeping through the bandages that covered it. He was bound to a chair. Torches on the walls cast a flickering red light across the cell.

The light cast shadows along the Greek's face. Matthias could see scars and the grim set to his features.

"Alvanites told me of the assistance you provided, but also the arrogant manner in which you conveyed yourself. Still, the damned fool allow himself to be used. Now that I am in command, such inequities will not occur. A new day is coming in the relationship between the Empire and you Germans. The Wheel turns."

Matthias looked up at the Greek.

"Have we met? I would like to know the name of my captor, the man who betrays an alliance."

Swearing in Greek, the Greek viciously swung the bucket down onto his wounded leg. Matthias, despite his best efforts, howled in agony.

"You are a piece of offal. My name is Strategos Nikeforos Argyrus, some call me 'the Mean'. And what exactly were you doing in Adana, dear ally? Preparing for the handover? Your sedition in the Diet is well known, as is your hatred of our Empire. No doubt you cheered when your Kaiser perished. Our intelligence also suggests you are one of those Lutherites, who opposes the true Orthodox Church. Do not speak to me of our alliance."

Despite himself Matthias could not help but laugh, a manic gasp tinged with pain. "I do not follow Luther. I don't hate your Empire, I only wanted the Kaiser to give up this mad idea of Unification. Keep everything the way it was, that's all I wanted."

Dropping the broken bucket, Nikeforos casually backhanded Matthias. His head snapped back.

"It does not matter, you German pig, you are here for other reasons. Tell me, how many men garrison Adana?"

Matthias looked up sharply, blood seeping from his mouth, "What!?"

A blow to the stomach, "How many men?"

It got worse from there. Questions about Adana, the defenses, the walls and passwords. Questions about the Prinz and King. Questions about the Armies of Outremer. And Pain, pain with the questions, pain by fist, pain by fire, pain by blade, over and over in a red haze until Matthias wasn't sure what he was saying or even if it was him screaming.

At the end he fell into a merciful oblivion.

Nikeforos looked down coldly at his victim, holding a red blade glowing in the torch light. Who knew if the information was reliable, but it did not matter too much. The garrison of Adana would be in a panic, looking for their commander. They would be disheartened when they found his bodyguard killed, the victim of a Turk ambush, and their Count gone, most likely dead. It was good sometimes that the Empire employed mercenaries, even those of the old enemy.

Adana would be leaderless. The foolish German Kaiser and King of Outremer had ordered its transfer to the true Roman Empire. With Count Matthias out of the way, the crusaders would have to march out of Adana without a fight, and Nikeforos could march in unopposed. The Wheel would turn.

[Cecil XIX]

Southwest of Bucharest, 1310

Mine Kaiser,

The situation is grim. If I were just taking the city, holding it against the Huns, or doing both with a few years in between it would not be a problem. But I cannot take the city without tearing down those walls, I cannot repair those walls before the Hungarians attack, and I cannot hold out against the Hungarians without the walls intact. It is my suggestion as acting commander of the 2nd AHA that the army be withdrawn south, so that Karl Zirn may take control. By the time he is able to march back to Bucharest the city should be held by a weakened Hungarian host and more soldiers can be trained in Bran. If we have to wait for the Papal Bull calling for peace to expire, than that also favors us. The Hungarians seem to prefer keeping their armies in the field rather than defending their settlements.
Regards,
Edmund Becker

Edmund sighed as he finished writing the letter before continuing on his own personal copy.

“If I had known that it would take so much work and war just to be left alone to govern my county in peace I would have though long and hard about marrying into this family.”

“Woe is you,” replied Karl, never one to recognize when someone was speaking rhetorically.

“Yes, I was being overly dramatic.” Edmund continued bitterly. “At least my family life has been rewarding. When I have time for it.” He sighed once more, but this time it seemed to improve his spirits considerably.

“But soon, all that will be over. I’ve redeemed myself as a General and my capture of Peter has given me an ample time to resign. Soon I will be in Prague, where I can live in peace and enjoy myself for the rest of my days.”

“Look at you.” stated Karl. “Here you are with a nice, big army at your command and you’re working hard to just give it away. What is it with you and governing anyway?”

By now Becker had finished copying his letter, and turned to Karl.

“I know it’s not your way to stay in one place for too long, but listen to me. Too many of the electors see counties as stepping stones for greater things. To them, a county is just a sign of adulthood and their Duke’s trust. They don’t spend any time with their people and when they do it’s just so they can get them to serve in Imperial armies, this despite the fact that Counts wield extraordinary power in their own right. That is why I want to live with and rule the people of my county, so I can give them the attention they deserve. No one has more authority over Bohemia than I. I set the build queues, I set the tax levels. And just as I am Duke Arnold’s men before I am Emperor Elberhard’s, so are the soldiers of Bohemia my men before they are Duke Arnold’s. It’s time I start taking this authority seriously.”

“So you get to Prague. Then what? You spend the rest of your life in one place?”

“Ideally. There is much to be down to further Bohemia’s greatness. Although it was the first province taken during the Reich’s resurgence, it is now a rather unimportant place compared to the other territories under our control. I will change that and make Prague one of the most important cities in the Empire. It will be a constant struggle, one that will probably outlive me, but I need to see it through and I need to put my plan into action from within Prague’s walls. That is the best way to govern Prague and the only way to secure my legacy.” Becker paused, collecting his thoughts.

“And the only way I can do Sigismund justice is by building up his homeland into something happy and prosperous.”

Karl sat forward. “You were a newlywed when Sigismund died. You never even met him. Why do you care what he’d think of you?”

“You don’t have to pretend with me Karl. I heard what they said about Sigismund when he heard Contzel was to marry me.”



“…Let’s just say I have something to prove.”

[GeneralHankerchief]

Ragusa, 1312

"You summoned me, von Dassel?"

"Yes I did, Luther." Dietrich von Dassel sat behind a desk in his study, barely visible over a mountain of papers, looking grim. Alexander Luther had no idea how much pressure the man was under, how much he had gone through to keep him safe. "Duke Hans is closing in. I cannot protect you forever. A move will have to be made."

"Closing in? Please explain."

Dietrich sighed. "While you have been out preaching that the Byzantines and the Pope are evil, I have been facing political pressure. The army I recruited to keep this Citadel - and you - safe has been discovered. I have come under suspicion. I have been called a traitor and a rogue. I have been forced to temporarily renounce my loyalties to Swabia in protest. Duke Hans and his army are coming to kill you and arrest me."

"I see," Luther said with far too much calm. "What are our options?"

"Option A is to give in and let Hans pass. I cannot let that happen. I have not fought against re-unification and tarnished my reputation for this long to give up and turn you in."

"And I thank you many times over for that," said Luther.

"Spare me," said Dietrich with a wave of his hand. "I have little time. The second option is to hunker down, quarantine the city, and refuse to let Hans in. It will be his move, but I believe that he will besiege us and start a full-blown civil war. I am confident that I can defeat him but I would rather not escalate that conflict to that level.

"Another option is to let you escape," Dietrich continued. "I do not believe this would be prudent. You are as safe as you can possibly be with me. Any journey to another Elector's protection - Fritz von Kastilien comes to mind - would be filled with danger and peril. I do not believe that you would get to sanctuary elsewhere, and even if you did you wouldn't be safe for long."

"So what is left?" asked Luther, this time with a tone of exasperation.

"March out with the army. Other Electors have been mentioning it for so long, so I might as well do it. You will come with me, we will take Durazzo, and replace Pope Abbate with a Pope who is not so pro-reunification."

Luther's eyes glowed. "Open war with the Papacy?"

"Yes. Times have changed since the Second Investiture Controversy. The College of Cardinals is under our control. The Pope has lost much influence. Excommunication does not mean as much, and it will be shorter-lived. And, as much as I hate the Byzantines, I do not want to fight a war with them. They are too powerful (thanks to Siegfried and Elberhard, damn them) and we are not as strong as we used to be. Deposing Abbate will accomplish our goals while still keeping the Reich intact."

"So," said Luther, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, "When do we leave?"

"Immediately. It is time to take matters into our own hands."

[Ignoramus]

Flanders, 1312

"I have had enough! No longer will I be a lowly Swabian, under the thumb of the Kaiser's brother.

I served him well, I supported him when he made his bid to become Kaiser, I bore disgrace for him, and how does he repay me? He sends me off to assault a city smitten with the plague! Surely he must have desired mein end and no less!"

After venting out his feelings, Wolfgang buckled on his sword.

"Assemble the men, Conrad!" he barked to his captain, "We are marching to Staufen!"

*************************************************************

Paris, 1312

A large throng of townsmen were busy in the centre square, reading the message that had been nailed to the Cathedral's doors.

"Swabians, how long do you languish under the thumb of one who seeks to flatter a Roman puppet? He has put the interests of the Kaiser and the Pope above that of Swabia. He is the son of Henry, once Kaiser of the Reich. He has shamed the memory of his father with his Papal inclinations.

Why is our Reich in turmoil? Is not his brother Kaiser? Why is he in Austria at such a time like this when he should be in Swabia maintaining order?

We have no future in the Reich of Elberhard, but we do in the Principality of Swabia, which bows to no one save Gott!

I do declare myself Prinz of Swabia, and renounce Kaiser Elberhard, Duke Hans, and their Greek and Papal conspirators altogether! Let us fight for Swabia!

Wolfgang Hummel, Prinz of Swabia."