Stories Thread

[KnightnDay]

On the walls of Frankfurt

Summer, 1116

On the walls of Frankfurt, three men stood looking over the army of the Holy Roman Empire under the command of one Captain Oskar Jonas. The besieging army kept a respectable distance from the walls, staying well out of range of any archers that might try to engage them. It was also clear what the intentions were of this veteran army, the battering ram, ladder and siege towers being assembled in full view.

Thomas spoke to Baron Vaux. "You can see that becoming a lord of Lorraine creates all sorts of opportunities to meet new people who wish to create the greatest trouble for you.
But it will be nothing compared to the trouble we shall make for them. The insolence, to lay siege to a city so well defended!"

Just then, three men could be seen making their way past the siege equipment, and walking steadily towards the front gate. As they came closer, it was apparent that two of the men were soldiers in the employ of the empire, but the third in civilian attire was not.

"Strange that one in the middle does not appear to be German at all", noted Henri.

These men continued to approach until they were within range of any skilled archer when one of the men began waving a white cloth.

"Now what shall we make of this, surely all these Germans did not march all the way here to surrender", Andre mused.

Twenty yards or so from the front gate, Thomas shouted down. "That is far enough, gentlemen. What is your business here?"

"You are Prinz Heinrich?"

"No, I am Thomas, Duc of Lorraine."

"We wish to speak to your master, Prinz Heinrich."

"His name is Henri, and I am afraid you have it backwards. I am the master of Frankfurt and of all Lorraine."

The German in charge was clearly confused. He spoke to his compatriot who seemed to no better comprehend the situation. "Nein, nein. Thomas ist der Prinz nicht. Moment."

"I am Dieter. Mein Captain, the honorable Oskar Jonas, wishes to know if the Prinz Heinrich, ja?…will surrender Frankfurt and his forces to him. If so, his men will be treated with the most respect."

Henri was becoming amused as the conversation was clearly irritating Thomas now.

Andre showed little patience. "Shall I order the archers to kill them, mon Duc?"

"No, but if all of them are this confused, this might be easier than we thought."

"I will not surrender the city nor any man within its walls." Retorted Thomas.

"Nein, auslander schwein. You must tell Prinz Heinrich- Henri? Henri, ja. You must tell him that the honorable Captain Oskar Jonas will guarantee safe passage for himself and his nobles if he will lay down his arms."

"Prince Henri is my vassal and as Duc of Lorraine I can assure you neither of us will lay down our arms."

"Was? You are Duke? That is rank subordinate to a Prinz, how can one of such position be your vassal? That is unbelievable. Unbelievable nonsense! No wonder you are losing this war", Dieter scoffed.

"Well in the land of the Franks we do things differently." Thomas called down, and then Andre taunted “And if we’re losing the war, then explain why Frankfurt, Bern and Stauffen are in the hands of our people and not yours!”

A temporary setback, and one that we will soon rectify! Shouted Dieter as his frustration grew. With that the German pushed the man who did not appear to be one of them forward.

"Diese mann… we capture him trying to ride to your city with a message. The honorable Captain Oskar Jonas gives him to you as a sign of our intentions to be lenient with your men if the Prinz…or you…whichever one of you is in command of this place…capitulates. But be warned, we will not wait long for your answer!"

With that, the two Germans trudged back to their lines, Dieter saying something in German about stupid Franks and tossing the white cloth to the ground in disgust. Meanwhile, the stranger quickly made his way for the gate and was then let in. Thomas, Andre, and Henri quickly made their way down to meet the man.

"Thank you Duc of Lorraine, I thought they were going to kill me, but apparently thought better of it when they came to realize I was no one of importance. I am Louis Vertin, and I bear a message from the House of Capet to his highness, Prince Henri." Louis pulled a piece of rolled parchment from a small sack he carried and handed it to Henri. He carefully read the message.

"What is it?", Andre asked. "Is the King sending more men to aid us?"

Henri replied belatedly, "No, this is to inform me that my brother Charles has received an offer of adoption and his credentials are listed. I have been asked if I have an opinion on the matter.."

With that, Thomas and Andre roared with laughter. "You should suggest the offer be rejected, for if I was not good enough to be adopted into the Royal family, no one is." Thomas jabbed.

"Seigneur Vertin, you poor soul. You risked your life to deliver a message like that. What are they thinking back in Paris? Mon Dieu!"

Henri then replied, "Do not be jealous, Mon Duc, you must just hope for better luck next time, yes?. In any case, I will deal with this matter after the “honorable Captain Jonas” and his friends are driven far from the walls of this city."

"Indeed" chucked Thomas. His tone and mood then turned serious. "And that hour is fast approaching."

[Braden]

The funeral procession passed through the centre of Frankfurt in the early evening. It was soon after the battle, Prince Henri, distraught with the death of Thomas had insisted the proper blessings had been observed immediately after the battle and now in the evening he allowed no period of mourning.

“Thomas wouldn’t have wanted that” he’d said simply when asked.

They stood, the survivors, still in the armour they had worn in the battle. Still bloodied, still dirty. None had felt the need to eat, for none had felt hungry, none had felt the need to wash or change, for to wash the dirt of battle had seemed false to the Duc’s memory. They wore the colours of the battle that had claimed their Duke proudly, as the coffin was slowly interred into the ground.

The sunny day turned and it started to rain.

When it had all ended one of them stood alone. He had not spoken at the funeral for he could not find the words. The rain washed some of the grime from his armour and matted his hair. He felt…cold, but not just because of the rain, it was a coldness of the soul, a coldness brought by the knowledge that someone you’d known and had been close to for several years, someone who’d shown you kindness, would not be there again in the morning. Had gone forever.

Henri stepped forward and knelt at the freshly dug grave and drove one hand into the soil. He lifted the mud in his hand and crushed it tight to his chest, the wetted sod slowly slid down back to the ground but Henri didn’t notice. He looked up at the rain sheeting down and felt it a fitting tribute from God for such a vile day. He smelt fresh urine and realised he also heard a light clattering noise behind him…he looked round…before him was a small boy. The gravediggers son, at least one of them, not more than 9 or 10 years old…he stood as Henri did beside the grave…wet and shivering in the cold.

“Wh…why are you still here lad?” Henri’s voice was full of kindness. He had no anger left in him, only a hollow.

“M…m….my f-f-father said I had to wait here until everyone had left” The boy was clearly distressed, had even urinated himself, but had not seen fit to disturb Henri during these hours of private mourning.

“You have done your duty above and beyond lad, there is no need for you to suffer now” then privately and quietly to himself “time will come to us all to suffer enough.”

Henri reached into his coin bag and handed the boy some coins. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Take these and return home, give one to your mother…if you have one…and one to your father. Tell them Prince Henri of France has released you from your duty this night. Warm thyself well and keep the other for thyself to make sure you have a full belly tomorrow.”

With that the shivering waif nodded and ran into the darkness.

Henri checked his coin bag again absentmindedly and realised he’d most likely given the boy more coin than his father earned in a year…he smiled to himself…perhaps Thomas still lived in some way.

A firm hand landed on Henri’s shoulder and he turned. It was Duncan…the tall, lanky, birdlike man had once been known simply as “English” in the mercenary spear company but that changed one day in the German forests when he’d come to Henri’s aid. He had been promoted to Henri’s bodyguard as soon as it had been found out he had riding experience and now he had adapted well and been proven in battle at the side of Henri and Andreas.

“Time to leave my lord…come” Duncan beckoned Henri to follow him with a nod

“Where is Andreas?” It was a well founded question, Andreas had been Henri’s loyal retainer for more years than he remembered at the moment.

“He is seeing to the army and has already sent a letter announcing the Dukes death to Paris”

“oh…” Henri seemed weak

“My lord,, time for you to return to Paris eh? You now have more duties to do.”

Henri simply nodded and accepted Duncan’s friendly arm to aid him as they walked away.

**Several hours before**

“My Prince! My Prince…the Duc has fallen, the Duc is unhorsed!!”

Henri and his bodyguard had just extracted themselves from combat with some German Knights, crossbow bolts continued to whiz pass them as they galloped away.

“What was that, what did he say?” Henri turned in his saddle to seek out the man who’d just shouted as Andreas caught up with him.

“They have no regard for their own men my lord, they loose crossbows into us even as we fight with their Knights on horseback!”

“I know, I know…who said THAT…has any of you seen the Duc?”

“My lord! My lord!” Duncan galloped to join Henri. “The Duke has fallen my Lord” Duncan addressed his horse beside Henri, panting “The Duke has fallen, crossbows have claimed him my lord, I saw him fall”

Henri did not visibly react to the news, he pulled down his visor, raised his sword and shouted…“CHARGE!” The troop committed to battle again.

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


“We have found him my lord” Andreas reigned in his horse beside Henri’s. Henri sat astride his own surveying the some 400 prisoners they had captured. André des Vaux’s own men guarded them and André himself was interrogating captains.

Henri blanched at the news but followed Andreas as they rode back into the centre of the field. Thomas’ bodyguard had all dismounted and stood in vigil at the point where Andreas was headed. As they drew closer Henri could no longer contain himself and leaping from his still moving horse let out a cry of pure pain and anguish as he ran to the centre of the troop.

He fell to his knees at the body, and clawed at it. Several bolts protruded from Thomas’ chest plate, his helmet had been removed by his bodyguard and lay upright beside the prone form.

Henri cried. This was not meant to be, this was not Henri’s battle and should not have been Henri’s glory to have…alone...this day should belong to the young Duc, not him.

Soon strong arms dragged Henri upright.

“Where are they!” Henri’s voice was corse and filled with pain “Where are these men who would shoot down someone so noble with such a vile contraption!?!”

Duncan tentatively spoke “The crossbow captain is being spoken to by André des Vaux my lord”

Henri did not pause, Andreas and Duncan struggled to keep up with him as he ran across the field to André. André looked up as he heard Henri get closer…what he saw made the large man baulk and stumble…such pure anger and vengeance was in Henri’s face. Henri crashed into the German soldier whom André had been talking to sending him sprawling.

Henri pointed at the fallen man “André! Is this the captain of the crossbowmen? Is THIS that man?”

André composed himself rapidly, realising the target of Henri was not himself. He had done no wrong but he was Henri’s vassal.

“Yes, yes my Lord. This is the last one alive.”

Henri spun on the man lying on the ground. “Get up! Get up you cur and arm yourself!”

The German lay there for a moment, one of André’s men translated. The German looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“Geeettt! UP!” Henri reached down and dragged the man upright even though he was clearly a larger man. Henri pushed him away, reached round and grabbed André’s sword…he threw it on the ground before the German.

“Arm yourself! Die now like a man or later hanging by your giblets on the road to Hamburg! I swear now to God, that I will CRUCIFY you if you do not pick up that sword!”

This also was translated whilst Henri glared.
The German made a lunge for the sword and brought it up quickly, Henri didn’t draw his own immediately but relied on his armour as he brought a vambrace up to deflect the blow before shoving the German back a pace. Whilst he stumbled Henri drew his sword, spun and sliced open the Germans chest in one fluid motion. The German paused, the nerves in his hands went dead and he dropped André’s sword before falling to his knees and collapsing in a heap.

Henri did not appear sated and raised his sword again. He was pounced upon from behind by Duncan, Andreas and André…the latter removing Henri’s sword from his grasp and handing it to one of Henri’s bodyguard. Duncan and Andreas forcibly dragged Henri from the battlefield.

Henri roared with rage and hatred and sorrow as he was taken away from the waiting prisoners.

André turned to the assembled captives.

“See that man! He is Henri, Prince of France. Fear him! For he has forsaken all articles of war this day for you have slain a great friend of his. The next one amongst you who fails to answer my questions with truth under God! I will personally turn over to him!”

André had no difficulty with the prisoners after that moment.

Andreas returned to André later.

“How is he?” André was concerned, he had not seen or heard of Henri since early that day and the incident with the prisoner.

“He is…inconsolable. He has insisted the Duc’s funeral is today and has personally seen to organising it.”

“What of the prisoners then?” André was a big man, and did not shirk from duty.

“The Prince is…not himself. Ransom them back, I will take full responsibility…he would have all of them killed but he would condemn his soul and take a lifetime of penance when this grief left him.”

André nodded, this was true. The Prince was known as a chivalric man, a man of honour…he was certainly not himself and could not be trusted with this choice.