Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[econ21]

This thread is for in-character stories in the King of the Romans thread (except battle reports, which have their own thread). Any out of character comments or discussion should be kept in the OOC thread.

Note - if your story involves casting another player's avatar in an unfavourable light or doing bad things to them, you must liase with that player first.

[Lucjan]

The clean up process was never a glorious one, or a heartening one. The sacking of Hamburg had left much of the castle's lower quarters in shambles as the men trashed the place searching for loot. The bodies of the enemy lie everywhere, stamped and mangled beneath the thunder of half a thousand hooves, cheap armaments broken and portruding from their planted position in the ground, horrified faces twisted in agony staring up into the beating sun, into the faces of their killers. He had always thought of the battlefield as a graveyard, but at the same time far from such a sacred place. Battlefields were the place where murderers and grave robbers were allowed to enact their trade with impunity.

And then there was the case of fallen friends, comrades in arms now shut out of life. Dietrich sighed as he stood beside one of the men in his own retinue that had fallen in the battle. He was from southern Frankfurt. He was not particularly any sort of spectacular man, but he was honest, good intentioned. He remembered seeing him fall, struck by the final release of an archer's arrow right before they ran the regiment down in the street.

As Dietrich stood amongst the bodies, he noted the approach of the young knight he'd been briefed by before the battle. He could see a slight look of disdain on the man's face, and hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

"There's going to be many more days like this ahead, have no regrets if you are certain you did all you could. All that can be done afterwards is to see off lost friends to the heavens with respect." He said, reaching into a small pouch at his side and dismounting his horse. From the pouch he pulled two Imperial coins, then, bending down, placed them over the eyes of the man he recognised from his retinue. "And, sometimes, to pay their way there from your own pocket." Dietrich stared up into the sun and sighed. "Come, help me, there's much work to be done."

[IvarrWolfsong]

Cardinal Peter Scherer walked around tiny church frowning. The parish priest looked aghast and ashamed. He skittered about trying to straighten a candle here and wipe away some dust there, unable to keep up with the wandering gaze of the Cardinal.

"Fret not, good Father. This is a small parish and I know the tithes are not great in size or number," said Cardinal Peter. He thought to himself, "How will we ever stand up to the Italian's arrogance when there houses of worship are works of divinely inspired art, yet ours are seem but stables with pews..."

"Thank you your Eminence, but I again apologize for the meager comforts and state of unpreparedness of this House of God. I beg your forgiveness most wholeheartedly..." groaned Father Mueller.

"Nonsense, a good and pious House of our Lord this is! It preaches to the simple folk and as such has simple charm," replied the Cardinal. He continued, "Regardless, I have recieved word from the Imperial Diet that funds have been set aside to subsidize the erecting of many new Churchs. Our Kaiser and his men are filled with such faith! If only the other peoples of our world were led by such holy men...<sigh>.. but I digress into matters that are not for you to fret good Father."

"Our Emperor and his noble lords are righteous men indeed, your Eminence," agreed the priest.

"As are you good Father. And I am sure that the Kaiser and the Prince and all our noble born lords will be happy to know the common men feel that way," said Peter. He continued, "Considering the state of affairs here, I may recommend that this parish receive a church in which you may preach."

"That is MOST gracious, your Eminence!" said Father Mueller, grinning widely and bowing deeply.

The two clerics said there farewells and Peter climbed into his coach. Willem of Bruges, the cardinal's secretary, looked him over and, in his Flemish accent, queried "All is well, your Eminence?"

"Yes, yes... fine. Advise the electors that this will be a good parish to build a new church in. The current one is no better than a swine yard, and smells as such. When I visited here just half a dozen years ago, this church thrived. It was never a glorious place but it had a pastoral charm," said the Cardinal. "I dare say that I mistook the cobwebs for silk curtains," he continued, chuckling.

As his chuckling died out he grew cold and a stern look washed over his face. "As for this simpleton, Mueller, I don't want him near our new Church. If he doesn't lead it to ruin, he will only serve to remind the folk of this miserable ruin of a shack," said Peter. "Send him on a pilgrimage somewhere far away, Spain or the Holy Land, I care not. Somewhere with brigands and lepers and the like. I don't want to see him again."

Willem raised an eyebrow, "I hear the Reconquista of Iberia is particularly violent these days. There are captains, Christian and heathen, who serve one master one day and his sworn enemies the next... desperate men they are," said the secratary, as if musing over a random thought. He continued, "has your Eminence ever been to the Shrine of Santa Maria Dolores de Cordoba? I have heard that every holy man should be given an oppurtunity to drink from the spring there. It is said to give new insight into spreading the word of Our Lord...."

The Cardinal simply nodded.

Cardinal Peter Scherer listened with pride as the Flemish priest stated that Bavaria would be the first to build these new Churches. He gazed out among the pine trees and watched as the sun slowly sank behind them. It seemed as though the pointed pines were fangs in the maw of some great beast that was devouring the sun and the cardinal was lost in this pagan image from some long forgotten myth.

Ashamed of such heretical thoughts, he quickly tried to think of something more pious. Without consciously chosing the image, he thought of a time in his boyhood. He was 12 and he was crying and laughing at the same time. he was on his knees in the street. His chaperone was aghast and telling him to get out of the filth and that when his father saw his hose torn and muddy, he would have him horse whipped. However, Peter stayed where he was, kneeling in front of the Cath&#233;drale Notre-Dame de Chartres. He had never seen anything so magnificent or so beautiful in his life. He was overcome with a sense of faith and knelt paralyzed and in a state of rapture. One of the priests, seeing this young boy, dressed in noble finery, kneeling in the mud before the Cathedral, asked him to come inside. After speaking to Preist for some time, he was taken to see the Sancta Camisia, the gown of Saint Mary, Blessed Mother. His fathers dreams of Peter taking over the family's lucridive silver trade died that very instant. Peter knew his calling and all the horse-whipping in the world would not change his mind.

Suddenly he he straightened and looked to Willem.

"Willem, these new Houses of Our Lord are but a first step. Greater works must follow. A Cathedral, in Bavaria ... a Cathedral that will bring glory to our Church, glory to our People, glory to our Empire. A Cathedral that will make all other princes and kings grow green with jealousy... that will make hardened Catalans weep and Saracens throw down their turbans. I swear upon my Holy Oath that we will have such a Cathedral, although I may never see it completed, I will see it started...."

[TinCow]

Maximillian Mandorf rolled over and wiped the sweat from his face. After a momentary pause, he reached out and grasped a half-empty goblet of wine. Propping himself up on his elbow, he took a deep draught, then wiped a red rivulet from the corner of his mouth. Behind him on the bed, a peasant girl lay bare-breasted, breathing heavily.

Mandorf distained mistresses. They were expensive and expected rank and privilege. Far too much trouble in comparison to the simple service they performed. Servants and townsfolk were free and never said a word. As he rose, a butler stepped forward from the far corner and proffered a heavy robe. Mandorf shrugged on the garment and walked into his private study.

Another servant was waiting there. He immediately stepped forward and held up a parchment. “Sir, the latest report from Italy.” The letter was sealed with the insignia of a minor Bavarian noble in Kaiser Heinrich’s retinue. Mandorf broke it with his thumb and scanned the text.

Progress. At last, some progress. There was no official word of Florence’s fall, but the siege had been nearing its end when the letter had been written. By now the city had surely rejoined the Empire. Hamburg, Metz, and Florence. It was a start. The Steward of Bavaria walked over to the eastern wall behind a massive oak desk. A large embroidered tapestry hung there, depicting the extent of Imperial power under Konrad the Second, only 60 years before.

The Holy Roman Empire had stretched from Antwerp and Marseille in the west to Prague in the east. Bruges, Rheims, Dijon, and Zagreb had been within a day’s ride of the border. On the other axis, Imperial power had held sway from Hamburg and Magdeburg in the north, to Rome in the south. Rome.

So much had been lost in the last decade and it was all because of Rome. The arrogance of the Pope knew no bounds. In 1075, against all laws of man and God, he had declared himself the sole authority in the appointment of clergymen, effectively severing the Kaiser’s power over Christianity. The Pope claimed authority from God, but he had no precedence for the matter. The Divine Mandate came from God himself and transcended the politics of man. Kaiser Heinrich had inherited the role handed down from the time of the Constantine the Great himself. The Pope’s actions were illegal and without support in history.

At first, Kaiser Heinrich had responded as an Emperor should, he had thrown down the gauntlet and sent a scathing letter to Rome in which he exercised his rightful power to depose the Pope and call for a new election. The Pope had responded by excommunicating Heinrich.

Mandorf laughed just remembering the matter. The sheer audacity of the Pope’s action had to be respected, even if it made him the enemy of the entire Empire. The man had balls. Yet, instead of crushing the impudent lout, as an Emperor should, Heinrich had humiliated himself! It was pathetic. A rebellion by some of the nobility had threatened Heinrich’s power, and he had surrendered his God given rights to that petulant monk without a struggle. The man had stood barefoot in the snow, wearing a hairshirt, until the priest had forgiven him! It made Mandorf sick just thinking about it.

The Emperor should have marched on the Pope, torn down his fortress stone by stone, and disemboweled him alive. Instead he had gutted his own authority. In the time since, it seemed as if half the Empire had ceased to obey Imperial power. Bern, Metz, Hamburg, Antwerp, Magdeburg, Prague, and Florence had declared themselves Free Cities. Marseilles had joined the Franks, and the Milanese and Venetians had declared themselves powers in their own right. It was an unmitigated disaster.

Recently, Heinrich seemed to have finally regrown some of his backbone. Asserting Imperial authority over Hamburg, Metz, and Florence was a good start, but it remained just that, a start. The Empire would never be restored to its rightful order until the Pope bent knee and groveled before the Kaiser. Mandorf doubted that Heinrich would ever have the authority or the courage to confront the Empire’s greatest enemy.

There was no prospect of Prinz Henry rising to the challenge either. That ‘royal’ had actually proposed to give regular tribute to the Roman usurper! It was outrageous. Not only had the Kaiser seconded the motion, but the entire damned Diet had gone along with it. Only Mandorf himself had retained enough dignity to oppose the insult to the Empire.

Mandorf would never bow to a false Pope. Any man who did was a heretic and would surely be separated from God in the next life. Yet, if the Kaiser and the Prinz threw themselves at the heathen’s feet, was it sacrilege to swear fealty to them as well?

The Steward of Bavaria gazed longingly at the tapestry. The Empire could regain its rightful place as God’s authority on Earth, but only if men had the will to make it so. Only if they had the strength to do what had to be done. All enemies of the Reich had to be purged. The only question was who these enemies were. Those who had thrown off Imperial authority to be sure, but what of those who remained? Was a man who allowed treason also a traitor?

A shuffling sound behind him caused Mandorf to turn. The peasant girl was gathering up her clothes in the bedroom. All thoughts of Popes and treason vanished. Mandorf grinned. “Where do you think you’re going?”

[OverKnight]

A letter from Otto von Kassel to Wilhelm von Kassel shortly after the capture of Metz:

Father,

I am sure you have heard the news that Metz has been returned to the Reich. The Prinz and his new "brother" stormed the rebels' fort in a bold action. I had not heard of this Der Stoltze fellow before, but I am glad he has proven the Kaiser correct in his choice.

Yes, I am still in Innsbruck, to some regret. I was stupid and misinterpreted a passing remark from the Kaiser to mean that I was to go on campaign. My eagerness clouded my judgement once again. I find solace by walking the walls of the keep. The view is astounding. The Alps tower to the north and south, almost ringing the castle. The Inn river flows from the west to the east down the broad valley dividing the two ranges and eventually feeds into the Danube. From the south the Sill river winds down from the mountains, and where it flows into the Inn lies the castle. I am told a settlement, by one name or another, has been on this spot since Roman times.

If you follow the Sill south into the mountains to it's source, you come to the Brenner Pass. This is the only pass, Father, between us and the Venetians that can accommodate an army. A small force could hold back an entire army in such a confined space! Woods, cliffs, and switchbacks provide several excellent spots for ambushes. That is why there is a castle here, and the castle is why I am here. The garrison has grown and needs training and quarters. Even though we have sworn a treaty of goodwill and trade with those merchants, the border needs to be watched and tariffs need to be collected. Even now, a Venetian trade caravan eats at my table and sleeps in my hall because the pass has been snowed in. I offer them hospitality, as is my duty, and they return the favor with sidelong glances and snide remarks about the food. I do not trust them!

Between merchants, freeholders fighting over livestock, and endless drilling of conscripts I sometimes regret defying you and not going into the priesthood. "A soldier or a priest, that is the choice for the younger son, and I didn't have you taught to read so you could be arrow fodder!", you often told me. Very often. Still, I would have made a poor priest, I can barely recite the Lord's Prayer, and my Latin is atrocious. I am a soldier, a Ritter of Bavaria, and I serve the Reich in whatever task I am given.

Yet, there are times when my service weighs more heavily than others. I hear of the victories to the north, to the west, and to the south, and I am envious. The Mountains close in and seem more of a prison than a spectacle. I want to strike at our enemies, I want to be in the field, I want to feel flesh and bone break beneath my sword arm! I can hear you now, "Patience, you impetuous pup!". Aye, I know. But if you always had your way I would be mouthing Te Deums and wedding swine herders to their cousins in some hole of a hamlet. Which reminds me, did you hear that rumour about the Austrian electors? It was the talk of Frankfurt before I left.

I hope you are in good health Father and the old wound does not trouble you as much as in the past. Send along my greetings to my brother, read him the letter if you wish. I will write again when I have the time.

Your son,

Otto

[Lucjan]

The voices down the hall were muddled, and the thunder's cacophanous symphony shattered Hamburg's new peace in a crescendo reminiscent of Dietrich's charge through the gates. The organ playing in the main hall could still be heard at the top of the stairs as well. In a lower layer of hell, this musical orgy could have tantalised darker spirits into ecstasy, but it scared Godfrey half to death. If he had not personally seen the Duke occassionally in the castle's small chapel, praying for his sins, he might, at that moment, have been inclined to believe he were a man of the devil.
He shook, half from the atmosphere, half in an attempt to shove such thoughts from his mind. "Stop it, just go. Go, tell him the news." He said to himself, willing himself down the hallway one step at a time. The dark corridor's shadows seemed to scurry away with every crack of the lightning, then instantly lunge back out, kept at bay only by the light of a few small torches. As he grew nearer the door, some of the muffled conversation began to sound more clear.

"So she's well then?"

"Yes."

"Good, and what of -" The voice was cut off by the ravenous growl of thunder, but it was distinguishable, familiar. The second voice though was new, and deeply accented in its speech.

"It's fine, hardly changed at all, even since you've left. The family's kept its eminence through your father's trade, and the town itself is coming into a considerable amount of wealth because of it. I know I shouldn't mention it, but they miss you."

"It's ok Cibor, hopefully -" Again, the the sky's vengeful roar interrupted the conversation, to which Godfrey was now listening intently. "secure the deal. Do me a favor though, when you get home, have my father urge the rest of the local noble council to push for compliance. Our current situation places us in a position to make this a reality. But, by all means Cibor, speak only to my father. That twisted wretch of a 'prince' must not get wind of this. If he takes the throne -" The next crack of thunder made Godfrey jump, his ear pressed close to the door he couldn't help but bang his head in his fright. As he stepped backwards, suddenly fearing for his life with the realisation of what just happened, their was startled bantering from inside and the door swung open with a heavy slam against the wall. Dietrich stood in the doorway, sword drawn, the man behind him staring, startled, over his shoulder.

"Godfrey..." Dietrich seemed appalled.

"Who is it? Gut him! It's a spy!" The man behind him yelled.

"No." Dietrich replied, lowering his sword. "I've fought with this man, he helped in this castle's fall, he's a good man. He's just in the wrong place at the wrong time." He looked down the hall, towards the sound of the organ's music and the stairs, and reached out to grab Godfrey by the tunic. "I'll assume you've already heard much, so come inside Godfrey, and let me tell you a story."

[GeneralHankerchief]

Florence, 1100

The sound of trumpets. The cheering crowd. The fine food, exquisite sleeping arrangements, and dedicated staff. One got used to these things as Holy Roman Emperor.

Then why was this job so damned hard?

Kaiser Heinrich, upon his return to the city, retired to his chamber for the night, asked himself that question. The midterm session of the Diet that had just ended was a particularly... annoying one.

"Wise Kaiser, noble Kaiser they all say publicly. And then they proceed to quickly ignore my proposals and go the other way, unanimously. They all want to benefit their House and their House only, and they all want to make their city the shiniest and most glorious in the entire Reich, never mind that it will make me bankrupt."

One could say that the Kaiser was in a bad mood.

"I have to deal with that stupid Cardinal who can't even identify people's gender. And of course he cares little for the Empire, only Rome. And my son, bah! Henry is weak. He was too young to remember. An entire generation, starting with him, is being raised to accept the fact that the Papacy is infalliable. This is unacceptable. He wants me to abdicate. I can see it. He figures that if a pro-Rome ruler is installed then things will be perfect.

"This cannot happen. We must not forget. This Reich has been wronged. It took me some time to realize that but we have been wronged. And if we do not act quickly people will never remember the power we once held."

He gazed out his window to the south. The prominent feature in the city was a small church, rising above the mostly small buildings but not obstructing his view. Past the church, symbol of much were the city gates. Past the gates were the fields of the Florence region, where many farmers now toiled to bring wealth to the Reich. And beyond those fields, to the south, were the fields of Rome.

Many years ago, over a thousand, those fields had been the site of a bloody, but decisive conflict for Rome itself. In earlier, happier times, Heinrich had paid visits to those fields. Certainly, the grounds were contested by heretics who believed in the pagan practice of polytheism, but when that many people died in one concentrated spot, the ground was hallowed no matter who fought there.

"I hereby vow, at this moment, that before I die Rome will be under the benevolent arm of the Empire once again. And may this battle be less bloody than the last."

[Lucjan]

As light flooded the previously darkened room, the torch cast a warm, glowing light across his face. The diet floor was empty, the chairs vacated, the candelabras that adorned many of the tables had long been extinguished for the night. The room bore a chill in its emptiness, and Dietrich felt the need to progress to his seat at the head of Franconia's section, staring out across the circular arrangement of desks, chairs, and the oratory floor at the center.

As his gaze turned towards the map on the far wall, his thoughts went to the future of the Reich. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching into the inside of his shirt to pull out a necklace with a silver crucifix. Holding the cross tight, he closed his eyes in prayer. Our father who art in heaven flowed from his lips as it has done a thousand times before. It was in these quiet moments of silence that he felt closest to his God. Not on the field of battle, where promises of heaven and glory inspired other men to great deeds, or in the churches and altar houses where he often donated to the Catholic faith, but in his own solitude, his own place of silence in the night. This place of aloneness was where he spoke to God, and it was the answers he made for himself in that state of silence that guided his life. The shrill creaking of the door behind him occurred almost simultaneously with the opening of his eyes. Then he recognised the footsteps.

"I've been waiting." He said. "I almost thought you wouldn't come, Conrad." Looking towards the open door to where the old man stood, he slipped the cross back into his shirt.

Conrad Schüsselen was a wiry man whose white thin hair was slowly baldening. It was difficult imagining the fragile person on a battlefield, and it is understood that although he has been one several campaigns, he was never a man of the field. His duty had led him elsewhere. Scribes and Runners were always needed. Behind the glorious charges of knights and deadly hails of arrows, small cogs twirled endlessly to supply an army with its needs and Conrad was the man who made those things happen.

Clothed in an elaborate gown that seemed several sizes too large for him, Conrad entered the chamber of the Diet. A throaty cough escapes his lips and immediately his right hand rises to his mouth, and a handkerchief tugged away in his sleeve for this purpose is pressed against his lips. Small specks of blood can be seen which are quickly wiped away.
"My Grace! I'm honoured to meet you."
A small bow with just the right degree of reverence to somebody of Dietrich's station is given, not an inch more. Then he straightens and looks at him expectantly.

"You needn't bow to me." Dietrich stepped towards the old man, and, as he approached, extended his hand in greetings. After tucking the bloodied hankerchief back into his sleeve, Conrad shook the duke's hand, a slight look of bewilderment on his face.

Taking note of his unusual attire, Dietrich opted then to light the candelabra on the table and deposit the torch in a brazier before returning to sit at the table. "I have a great deal of respect for you Conrad. You stand here, old and ill, some might say leperous, blood accompanying your almost every word, and yet still you continue to attend the diet and dictate your opinion to the electors. Rarely have I seen such devotion to a cause."

Before Conrad could muster a response, he continued more directly on the purpose of their meeting. "The diet today, the exchange between myself and the Kaiser, it is much like the battle of chivalry against corruption. I have made my point and the corrupt has been exposed as such, but there are things he can do which I cannot. One of which, I believe, has been to prevent me from meeting with Duke Leopold. Every messenger I have sent has failed to return, and I can't remember the Duke ever appearing for more than a moment in the diet. I understand that you, however, meet with him regularly. What can you do? What must be done to have you arrange a meeting between Leopold and myself? Somewhere safe, somewhere, somewhere like Hamburg."

Conrad von Schüsselen was truly bewildered by this breach of protocol from Dietrich von Saxony. It seemed that he was a man who beleived in protocol and order. Neatness, yes, besides being wiry the man was neat and seemed to like it.
"You honour me with your words, my Grace. My duty is to serve and try to fulfill this duty. Can't let myself be distracted by petty illnesses, now can I?"

He listened intently to Dietrichs words. Chivalry against Corruption, an interesting way to put it.
"Indeed the Kaiser has been acting strange lately. I did not get to know him as such a man from my time in Italy. You have heard my words in the Diet. It seems my requests fall on deaf ears with the Kaiser, but I'm just a simple Elector. Ignoring a Duke now, I think he has gone too far. You seek contact to my Liege, I think I can provide it. I don't know what happened to the messengers you sent, but I have secure communication channels established. Whatever message you want to have sent, I shall deliver it."

Conrad clasps his hand in front of him, ready to deliver a final bow. Was this all this meeting was about or would there be more?

"Thank you. Have Duke Leopold meet me in Hamburg as soon as possible. I'll temporarily delay heading out to begin work on the Kaiser's menial task of setting up watch towers in the Reich's interior, something that, were he not so blinded by his power, he would have made the regional responsability of the individual Duchies a long time ago. As for brother Leopold, travelling with a small retinue, he should be able to arrive without issue in a few short weeks. My captain, Godfrey, will greet him at the front gates."

Conrad performs his bow once again as he receives Dietrichs request: "Be assured that my Liege will receive my message and will meet you in Hamburg as soon as the siege of Prague is concluded."

Dietrich, looking down towards the candelabra on the table, stared into the core of the flame, watching it flicker and dance. He lost his concentration for a moment, as if thinking back to something in his past, before he looked back up. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot." He said, then, reaching into the gilded pouch attached to his belt, pulled from it a smooth, crimson colored hankerchief that felt of silk, embroidered with the House of Austria's coat of arms.

Offering the cloth to the old man with a respectful nod, he smiled. "I thought the color might help to make the severity of your condition a little less noticeable to the diet."

Conrad stepped forward carefully and extended a hand to receive this unusual gift. His gaze is cast down upon the handkerchief as he takes it and reverently turns it around in his hand. Finally, he looks up, a quizzical look on his face: "Thank you, your Grace, your attention is too kind. Although I believe this is too fine a material to be stained by my own blood."

"Then consider it a token of my appreciation. Do you have any questions for me, Conrad?" The duke asked, watching the old man closely, attempting to pick out any discrepencies in his responce with his movements. "You seemed surprised by my greeting tonight."

Conrad seemed to be a little nervous all of a sudden and began to twirl the handkerchief in his hands, before finally getting a grip on himself and tugging it away in his sleeve. "I was indeed surprised by your invitation tonight, but it was a pleasant surprise. I have been meaning to get in contact with you. Since you will meet Duke Leopold soon though, I'm not convinced of the necessity of this meeting. Surely he can discuss these matters with you in person. However..."

Conrad reached into his garment and pulled forward a scroll, sealed with the sigil of the House of Austria and handed it to Dietrich.

"... I can give you this, it should prepare you for one of the things my master has in mind for the next Diet session. Of course all things mentioned within this document are purely a base for negotiation. I'm sure your support in this matter will be appreciated by our House and every favour returned as soon as possible." He smiled a sleek smile and bowed his exact bow once more.

After reading over the document Dietrich smiled and stood to retrieve his torch from the brazier, making sure that any ashes left are out. "I will speak with Leopold on this matter deeply, but let him know that I am fully supportive of his ideas. The House of Austria has a friend in Franconia." He said, before offering the elderly elector a bow.

As he snuffed out the candle light at the table, he took one final look around the empty diet floor. "Conrad." He said, still thinking back to the elector's bewilderment in his greeting and feeling it may be best to explain his breach of regular diet protocol. "Do not be surprised by my informality today. We are both men of nobility and station, and you, being worthy of my great respect, I believe should also then be worthy of my friendship. And when the diet is closed, well, why worry about formalities between friends? I'll be leaving in a moment, no need to wait for me."

At this comment Conrad bowed even deeper to the Duke. "I'm just a simple servant, my Grace. Your offer of friendship is heartily accepted. I'm convinced that the friendship between our Houses will bear many fruits."
He turned around and left the Diet floor, already engrossed in his own thoughts again, a smug smile showed on his face, as he was quite pleased with his accomplishments tonight.

There was one last thing he had to do before he left. Earlier in the day the Kaiser had snorted and fumed about Dietrich's supposed lack of children. If the Kaiser wanted Dietrich so greatly to have a son, then Dietrich would have a son, but it would be a son who understood the errors of the Kaiser's judgement. Reaching again into the pouch he removed a small scroll, his eyes crossing over the petition for adoption before finally coming to rest on the Kaiser's table. He would have to accept, his remarks earlier that day really gave him no other choice.


This story was written as a cooperative work between Lucjan and Ituralde.

[TinCow]

The servant shuffled his feet and kept his eyes on the ground. He was visually uncomfortable with the conversation.

“I will repeat this one last time.” Maximillian Mandorf stared hard at the man. “Tell that uncultured Polish bastard that I expect some proper hospitality in this God-forsaken town. Tell him that I want proper lodgings for my men and a full haunch of beef for each of them this evening. And tell him…” the Bavarian’s face reddened and his voice began to boom “…that if one more Polish peasant delays our march or demands a toll for a river crossing, I will personally geld him!”

The servant continued to stare at his feet. Mandorf gave him a three-count before exploding. “What the hell are you standing there for? Get out and do your job! If you come back here one more time without having done what I said, I will strap you to the top of the battering ram when we reach Stettin!” All color left the man’s face and for a moment it appeared as if he would faint. The man recovered well though, turning an involuntary backwards step into a proper about-face. He left in a hurry.

The room was silent for several moments, then Mandorf exploded into laughter. “It is a farce! A mockery of proper order!” He bellowed deeply for several moments, then shook his head with a broad smile. “Kaiser Heinrich is a more astute politician than I gave him credit for.” He turned and looked at the robed figure in the corner. “You disagree?”

The priest replied in a pinched voice, as if suffering from a cold. “Imperial politics are not something I concern myself with; I care only for spiritual matters.”

A huge smile crept across Mandorf’s face. “Yes, I’m sure you do.” He stood up and crossed the room. “Well, I am feeling very much like a sinner at the moment.” The Steward of Bavaria grabbed his crotch. “Would you like to hear my confession?”

A look of horror crossed the priest’s face. Mandorf erupted into laughter again. “You do not appreciate my affection, Charles?”

The priest sputtered out a response, “It is not a lack of affection, my lord, I… I am just concerned that such things might be seen!” His voice dropped into a whisper, “We are not in your private estate, who knows what eyes and ears could be spying on us, here in Poland?”

Mandorf waved his hand dismissively. “Do not concern yourself with such matters. These Poles are ignorant buffoons and my men are completely loyal.” His eyes met the priests’ and he gazed at them deeply. “Besides, you have not answered my question.”

The priest shifted in his seat. “It seems to me that the Kaiser has managed to offend everyone in every way possible.”

“Offend? Ah, but he has done anything but!” Mandorf turned and began to pace the room. “He demonstrates his displeasure with von Saxony by denying him command of the attack on Stettin. Yet the Duke of Franconia cannot be publicly offended as the rights to Stettin will surely be given to his House. Furthermore, he cannot protest too greatly at the command, lest he risk offending me and the House of Bavaria.” Mandorf paused before a window and looked out. “At the same time, he removes me from my lands, and orders me North, away from the Milanese and that bastard in Rome. While I am up here, I am unable to effectively agitate against the Usurper and I am exceedingly far from the Italian lands which I concern myself with. Yet I too cannot be publicly offended. I have been given a military command that was unexpected and not mandated by the Imperial Diet. This is a high compliment and, combined with the previous allocation of Bolognia to Bavaria, I cannot honorably express displeasure. Any protest I make also risks offending von Saxony and the Franconians. If I were spurn a military command the Kaiser has felt they were not fit for, I would be making myself out to be superior to them!”

Mandorf turned back to the priest, a slight smirk spreading across his face. “Yes, the Kaiser knows exactly what he is doing. Franconia’s interests lie only in the north and Bavaria’s lie only in the south. We are natural allies, yet with this act the Kaiser drives a wedge between us. At the same time, the difficulties between Swabia and Austria continue, preventing them from forming any kind of coherent bond, despite their similarly compatible interests. In the south, both Austria and Bavaria desire the Italian lands, which will undoubtedly prevent us from reaching any kind of long-term alliance. Thank the heavens that the assault on Bern went well. If Sigismund had died under von Kassel’s command, our relations with Swabia would have been greatly damaged. Yes, the Kaiser knows what he is doing. He plays us all off against one another. As long as we squabble amongst ourselves, he may do what he wishes.”

The priest considered this for a moment before speaking. “You speak of this as if it is undesirable, yet the Kaiser has been exceedingly kind to Bavaria and none in the Reich has more of a reason to hate Pope Gregory than him. Surely a more powerful Kaiser is a boon to the House of Bavaria?”

Mandorf raised an eyebrow. “So much for restricting your thoughts to spiritual matters. Yes, you are correct. We have no reason to oppose the Kaiser at the moment. However, politics is a fickle beast and interests change as rapidly as a whore’s lover. The Kaiser is looking to his own interests in the coming years. He will be prepared no matter what course the Houses take.” The Steward of Bavaria glanced down at the priest’s robes. “Speaking of whores…”

The priest gaped. “My lord, please, this is not the place!”

“This is the place if I say it is the place!” Mandorf snarled. He placed his hand between the priest’s legs, the robe giving way to reveal a decided lack of bulk. “Or would you prefer that I inform Cardinal Scherer of your… peculiarity?”

The priest’s eyes began to water. “My lord, Maximillian… you promised!”

Mandorf grabbed the priest by the hair. “And so did you. I swore to keep your secret and you swore to preach the righteous word of God; to undermine support for the Usurper from your pulpit. Those you convert in Stettin must be loyal to the Kaiser, not to Rome! Yet, I have heard reports of your sermons and they have been decidedly lacking in the fiery rhetoric I have been expecting.”

“But, but, my lord… I cannot simply speak of it openly, it must be done subtly and often in private! If Scherer hears of open sermons against Pope Gregory, I will be as damned as if he knew…” His gaze moved down to where Mandorf’s hand rested.

“Yes, well, then you had better start giving more convincing private sermons, hadn’t you?” He pulled up the priest’s robes, revealing an entirely feminine body. Mandorf smiled. “Let’s call this… practice.”

[Ituralde]

It was an unusual chilly morning and his breathing turned into small clouds of mist as Leopold looked over the battlements. The sun was not fully over the horizon yet, but soon it would rise through the cool morning air and bask the surrounding countryside in its warmth. Soon it would glisten off the standards and weapons of his adversaries, but right now the only thing revealing the Venetian presence in the surrounding hills were small spirals of smoke rising from several fires. Judging from their position all major roads to and from Vienna were blocked by the Doge's army.

He should have known something was up when the guards on the merchant trains coming into Austria had been doubled. Brigands and robbery in the Alp passes were supposedly endangering the Venetian merchants. In a motion of goodwill he had granted the Venetians access and even supplied them with scouts to traverse along the Danube. Hah! What an gullible idiot he had been. A small detachment of cavalry had just marched up to the city the previous month and demanded that Vienna surrender to the Doge. Leopold could not believe his ears! Surrender to the Doge? Had they not been allies just minutes ago? But soon the fires had sprung up around the city and the army sent into the Alps had just arrived in time to support the intruders. Vienna was completely surrounded and all that stood between them and the city was Leopold and a large assembly of Militia.

"Mein Herzog! Mein Herzog!" Rainer, a burly man in his midfourties, an aged retainer and veteran warrior pulled Leopold out of his revery. "They are ready mein Herr, for the demonstration." Leopold tore his gaze away from the Venetian encampments and looked at Rainer. It was hard to suppress a sigh but he followed the aged man into the courtyard. He had to pass a small construction site where workers were still attempting to improve the fortifications. Leopold had ordered Stone Walls to be build and they had progressed nicely, however with the city cut off no more stones from the quarries arrived and the masons had to make do with the little they got.

Assembled in the courtyard besides some guild leaders and dignitaries of the city stood five men, looking somewhat uneasy that they were the center of attention. Each one of them had a crossbow dangling from their belts. The guilds were eager to show off their new capabilities for defending the city. Had the Venetians arrived later Leopold might have had a regiment or two of those men at his disposal. After a brief demonstration of the Peasants skill the guild leaders mumbled something about merely a dozen of them being ready now. While not enough to make a difference should the Venetians attack, Leopold could at least man the towers with those men and hope they inflict some damage on the enemy.

Once again his thoughts were far away as a spindly looking clerk explained something about tension and recoil effect to him. Not only his situation in Vienna looked grim. The Reich was at war against Milan and would soon attack Rome itself. Every voice of reason was needed in the Diet and he was not able to attend. He could only hope that his messengers had made it through, but everything else lay in the hands of Chancellor Sigismund.
He could understand the hatred against Pope Gregory it had filled him in the first years of the investiture crisis, but now he had begun to understand that the will of god was not to be questioned by mere men. God's representative on earth had spoken and the following events had proven him right. The Reich had lain shattered and in ruins just years ago. They had worked hard to regain its former glory and accomplished some things. Although Leopold still felt left out on the recent expansions of the Reich. Prague, one meager city had been given to his control, while everyone that had taken a look at the profits generated by Vienna should know that he would have been the best choice to turn their Italian possessions in the cash-machines they could be.
Instead he was now besieged by those merchants, unable to muster a professional force for his defense or strike at those traitors directly, while excommunication loomed over their every heads and all they had worked for so hard could be shattered in mere instants.

But he would not give up without a fight. The clerk had just finished that the new techniques could punch a hole into a plank of wood a hundred meters distant.
"Punch a hole! That's what we're going to do. Punch a hole in their shiny armour once they try to scale our walls! And then, then we'll bring the fight right to their doorstep! I will see the city of Venice under our control and their coffers plundered by our soldiers or I will not be Leopold of Austria!"
He laughed, laughed for the pure joy of it, while at the same time hoping that the defense of Vienna might hold and that he would carry the day once the Venetians attacked.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Sylvio Miracola, special Messenger of the Pope, was shocked at the amount of hostility that was present in the atmosphere as he made his short ride to deliver a message from Pope Gregory to Kaiser Heinrich. Gregory had given him a blessing before he had departed, but Sylvio had the distinct impression that this land was outside of God's control. The skies were gloomy, the roads were a mess, and he had come down with a sudden cough as he rode to Genoa.

The hostility was even more open once he arrived in the city proper. The guards at the gates spent an inordinately long amount of time checking his papers as well as his person, and finally let him pass with scowls on their faces. He received the same treatment upon arrival at Heinrich's residence, and even the Kaiser himself displayed little hospitality to this ambassador to the Pope.

And that was before he had read the message.

"His Holiness Pope Gregory hereby summons me to meet with him and discuss recent events by his headquarters on MY land??!!?! Tell me, messenger, since when did His Holiness acquire such cheek?"

"His Holiness would ask the same to you, Your Highness," Sylvio piped in. He was under protection of the Pope, and thus cared little about etiquette.

Heinrich stared at him for several moments, apparently deciding whether this ingrate was for real or not. Finally, he sent the messenger off with his reply.

Two days later, Heinrich and his entourage, including Captain Ludwig, rode out to the Pope's location. They were more numerous than what was usual for this sort of meeting and much more heavily-armed. The Kaiser finally arrived at Pope Gregory's tent, more than three hours late. He would at least have some say in the pace of this meeting.

The Pope's retinue was just as numerous, and some of them were even armed. However, all were respectful and silent. The only voices to be heard that evening would be the Kaiser's and the Pope's, and the Kaiser began the meeting without any of the respectful greetings that the Pope was probably accustomed to.

"So, Your Holiness, what troubles you enough to summon me to meet with you on my own land?"

Pope Gregory smiled for a moment, and then spoke. “Ah, Heinrich, I see this time you do not come to me wearing a hairshirt and walking through the snow. Tell me, how is your eldest son, Henry? I had such high hopes for that man - I thought perhaps he would be the one to finally remove all trace of the wounds caused by the Investiture Crisis. And yet I have heard such a disturbing report from one of my inquisitors, Bandius de Bargio. I hope the report is misinformed - after all, de Bargio is more used to rooting out foul spirits than conversing with Princes.”

"Henry is quite fine," said Heinrich, eyeing the Pope. "And please tell your inquisitor that there is a difference between supporting the Pope and knowing when an invited guest oversteps his boundaries."

That was all the Kaiser said of the matter, not mentioning that there was currently Diet discussion about hunting down and executing all inquisitors that made their way into Imperial territory. Gregory continued, shrugging.

“Before we get down to why I have summoned you here, I must protest at the action of your men in blocking the roads around Genoa. What do they think they are doing, trying to confine my army to its camp? I have 1300 men with me - do they think a single regiment will stop me passing down a road if I have a mind to do so? Do you think to stop me returning to Rome? Do you dare to believe you can reclaim it, now that the Sicilians who helped evict you from it are no longer at my side?”

Heinrich chuckled for a second. "Believe me, Your Holiness, if I had it my way the road back to Rome would be wide open. I would even send regiments to make sure that your journey back would go as smoothly as possible. If you wish to return to Rome then just give the word. I shall pass it onto Sigismund. In the meantime, you are violating Imperial borders."

“Enough of this talk of borders and blockades - I will leave Genoa with or without your men's permission, and as soon as I'm ready. But let us talk instead of why I have summoned you here. I wish to personally convey my injunctions regarding your Empire. I know it is no longer yours to command, and you must suffer at the mercy of those buffoonish Dukes and your Diet, but what am I to do? I cannot address each Elector individually and anyway, you - not they - were chosen by God to rule your kingdom. Even if the monkeys usurp the role of organ-grinder, it does not mean that I must attempt to converse with the simians! So, now I tell you, Heinrich, King of the Romans, my four demands.”

“First, I remind you that you have not yet fulfilled my injunction to end your alliance with the Kingdom of Sicily. Quite why you remain loyal to these pirates is beyond me. Do you not remember that you lost Rome due to their intervention? They have certainly forgotten any pretence that they were acting for the good of the Church.”

“Second, no German army has joined the crusade against the Sicilians. I have overlooked this for a while, as you lacked a fleet to reach Tunis. But that is no longer true. Why are you content to let your brother nations take the lead in bringing down these godless Normans?”

“Third, you must end hostilities with Milan. Your mad friend Maximillan is quite wrong on this point. I have no sympathy for these Milanese - normally, I would not suffer them to be mentioned in my presence; they rank even lower in my estimation than your Empire. Milan started this war and they have paid a steep price. But enough is enough. You have driven them out of every settlement on mainland Europe. There is no need to persist in your attacks. Let no more Catholic blood be spilled; if they defy me by attacking you, they will join Sicily in being cast outside the Church.”

“Fourth, you must end hostilities with Venice. Venice is a powerful Catholic faction - perhaps the mightiest faction in Europe. They vie with you for dominance in Europe; such is the nature of the mighty. Do lions not fight for the pride? Do stags not lock horns for the herd? But, as in nature, these struggles must be kept limited - it will not serve the good of the species for its leaders to both be mortally wounded. So it is with Christendom. If your Empire and Venice fight a total war, Catholicism will be weakened from within. The Orthodox nations, the Muslims, the pagans, will all benefit and rejoice. And again, if for her part, Venice continues hostilities, know that she too will learn of God’s displeasure.”

After Gregory concluded, an aide whispered something in Heinrich's ear. The Kaiser nodded and made a motion with his hand dismissing the aide, replying.

"It's funny, Your Holiness. You question my continued allegiance to the Sicilians when you state that they were instrumental in me being removed from Rome. Yet you were instrumental in making them who they are today. But you still excommunicated them. Obviously, opinions change over time. Sicily is now our only friend on the Italian Peninsula, thanks to your machinations. I will not break our allegiance, and I will not waste lives attacking far-off cities while our main cities are in danger.

"I wonder why you called the crusade on Tunis, of all places. Is it just because Sicily now holds it? Or is it because nearly every faction on their way to the place will march through our lands? Why did you excommunicate Sicily? Was it strictly a power play because they had allied with us?

"As far as Milan, you have finally said something of merit. I hold you to your promise and will report your intentions to the Diet. The only thing that worries me are the two armies still on the mainland. Perhaps you could send your inquisitor to their locations and... inform of what has transpired.

"However, for Venice, I have little mercy for them. They were our allies - they betrayed us. They must pay. You may blather all you wish about this war being bad for Christianity but the bottom line is that currently, we are out for revenge. I do not intend on terminating hostilites with the Venetians until their namesake city is in our possession, and some Electors may even want more. Until that happens, your threats fall on empty ears."

Heinrich finished, sipping some water. He waited for the Pope to blast him for his stance on Venice, but no words came. The two leaders sat across from each other, saying nothing, just eyeing each other, perhaps sizing each other up. This intense staring contest lasted for over a minute when the Pope finally broke it, speaking soberly.

“So, it seems we have said all that we came to say. May you ponder long on what I have said, Emperor Heinrich, King of the Romans. Your Empire has made great gains thanks to the impetuosity and aggression of the Milanese. But they say a creature may inherit the qualities of the thing it consumes. Ensure your Empire does not inherit the vices of your Milanese victims, Heinrich.”

The Kaiser rose and departed, this time managing a proper goodbye. "God's Grace be with you, Your Holiness."

The ride back to Genoa was quiet, the Kaiser once again lost in his own thoughts. However, one thing escaped his lips that only Captain Ludwig heard:

"Last we met, I was begging him for forgiveness. This time, we were equals. The next time, he shall be the one begging me."

(Thanks to econ21 for agreeing to play Pope Gregory)

[TinCow]

The room was uncomfortably cold. Winters in Bavaria were often harsh, but thick robes and plentiful fires kept the worst of it at bay; two large ones blazed in the immense hearths at either end of the hall. The walls were hung with thick tapestries which served to insulate the room from the seeping cold. Wearing two layers of wool on top of his underclothes, Maximillian Mandorf should have been comfortable, yet he felt chilled to the bone. I cannot even remember the last time I felt warm.

When he had heard that ‘Charles’ Otterbach had been appointed to Cardinal, all the joys of life had left him. Despite her deception, ‘Charles’ was a supremely holy being. The Lord must have favored her highly, to allow her to ascend to such a position despite her sex. I have defiled one of God’s chosen.

He heard the creaking steps of the household servant approaching from several rooms away; the sound delivered the message just as effectively as the man himself. When he arrived, he bowed quickly, looking to the Steward of Bavaria for permission to speak. Mandorf raised a finger.

“My Lord, she has arrived.”

Mandorf nodded and the servant exited through a small side-door. The sound of his retreat faded into the depths of the manor. The vacuum of silence filled the room. Mandorf closed his eyes and prayed. Minutes passed. His lips moved, but he did not give voice to his thoughts.

“It is good that you commune with the Lord.”

He jerked and his entire body tensed into a rigid mass. The suddenness of the unexpected comment frightened him to the core. Mandof slowly raised his eyes, fearing what he would see. Before him stood a tall, thin woman in a dark habit. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

“You do not need to speak, I am here to deliver a message from the Heavenly Father. You have sinned greatly, Steward Mandorf. You have given yourself over to the temptations of the flesh and by doing so you have fallen under the sway of Satan.”

A shiver ran through Mandorf’s body and he felt himself shrink into his chair. The woman tilted her head slightly and looked at him. A smile came over her face.

“Do not fear me, I do not bring the Inquisition to your door. The Lord grants me visions from time to time and recently I have had visions of you. He wants me to help guide you back to the light. You are a pious and worthy man, but you have lost your way.” She held out her hand.

For several moments, Mandorf didn’t move. Slowly, he slid from his chair and fell to his knees. As he crawled across the floor towards Hildegard of Bingen, he began to weep.

“You seek to uphold God’s will, yet your passion has been corrupted. You embrace violence and the pleasures of the body in place of the Word of the Lord. The Prince of Lies holds you in his grasp and if you do not escape, you shall pay for your sins for all eternity.”

Mandorf grasped Hildegard’s feet, laying his head between them. He sobbed openly. “I… I have always put the Lord foremost in my life. I wish only to do his work.”

“He knows. That is why he has sent me to you. You can be a powerful force for Christ and do much good for his people, but first you must repent. You have sinned greatly.” She reached deep into a dark sleeve and pulled out a small gilded tome. She opened it and began to read.

"God united man and woman, thus joining the strong to the weak, that each might sustain the other. But these perverted adulterers change their virile strength into perverse weakness, rejecting the proper male and female roles, and in their wickedness they shamefully follow Satan, who in his pride sought to split and divide Him Who is indivisible. They create in themselves by their wicked deeds a strange and perverse adultery, and so appear polluted and shameful in My sight. And men who touch their own genital organ and emit their semen seriously imperil their souls, for they excite themselves to distraction; they appear to Me as impure animals devouring their own whelps, for they wickedly produce their semen only for abusive pollution. When a person feels himself disturbed by bodily stimulation let him run to the refuge of continence, and seize the shield of chastity, and thus defend himself from uncleanness."

Hildegard closed the book and gazed down upon Mandorf. As he looked up into her face, the glow of the fire illuminated her from behind. The spreading light seemed to emanate from deep within her, purifying all that it touched. For the first time in weeks, Maximillian Mandorf stopped shivering. “What must I do?”

She reached down and touched his cheek. “The Lord has already told you that. You have known from the beginning that what you were doing was wrong. There is no secret to be revealed, only the path of God to be followed.” Mandorf blinked slowly, his eyes dropping back to the floor. “Stand, my child. I will help you to make yourself worthy of His love once again.”

Mandorf staggered to his feet, feeling light-headed and weak, but strangely whole. “I will do all that you say from this day forward.”

She smiled at him again. “I know you will. First, you must pay penance for your sins. Purify yourself of evil and you will be reborn. You are a slave to your flesh, so you must master your body before you can cleanse your soul. You will spend one week in contemplation of the Lord. You must fast during this time and you may drink naught but water. Three times a day I shall lead you in prayer and guidance. When we are done, you shall be a new man.” She looked deeply into his eyes, the smile fading. “Then, we shall talk of Pope Gregory.”

(OOC: My info on Hildegard von Bingen comes from the Wikipedia entry on her here. I had never heard of her before I saw her in Max’s retinue. Just goes to show that computer games can teach you a lot sometimes.)

[Ignoramus]

Bern, 1130

The guards ushered the Chancellor into the presence of Prinz Henry - Sigismund walked quickly and looked distracted, as if he had a lot on his mind. In his hand, he carried a long list of issues to discuss with the Prinz - both matters of the House of Swabia and Imperial matters.

“Heil, mein noble Prinz!” he said vigorously, “It is a pleasure to see you once again.”

Henry sat back: “Welcome, Chancellor. Now that Edict 4.8 has been passed, I am preparing to march immediately to Lombardy, but I am honoured that you wish to consult with me before I depart. How goes things in the Chancellery?”

Sigismund shook his head agitatedly: “I am concerned about the behaviour of the Austrians. It is true that they are not very popular with the Diet now, but I am now an enemy of Duke Leopold, and that puts Austria at enmity against Swabia.”

Henry paused and considered his reply. He and Sigismund were bound together by duty and House, although frequently their judgements and instincts seemed opposed. Henry had to try to strike the right balance between not trying to bind the Chancellor to his own will and not being committed to policies or actions he personally opposed.

“I agree that the situation with the Austrians is vexatious. However, I am concerned that if we treat them too harshly, they will withdraw from public life - as Dietrich has done. We cannot afford to have half the Empire inactive. Furthermore, you must bear in mind that I am destined to be Emperor one day. My father has been drawn into frosty conflicts with two Dukes - an outcome I would like to avoid. Your own relations with them are your affair, but I would not like myself or Swabia to burn any bridges.”

Sigismund considered this and then turned to another subject: ”I also worry about our newest elector. He has not been informed of our goals and alliances, and perhaps it would be wise to inform him.”

Henry nodded: “Since you have volunteered to act as Secretary to the House of Swabia, I will leave briefing the newest Elector in your hands.” Henry was relieved to have passed on the day to day management of the House of Swabia to Sigismund. The Prinz did not have the time or inclination to organise the House as an active cabal in the Diet. In part, this was because Swabia appeared to be faring well enough without organisation. And in part, because as a future Emperor, Henry did not wish to partake too vigorously in partisan actions that would alienate him from the nobles on whose cooperation he would come to depend.

Sigismund continued: “Now to Imperial matters. I am worried about the amount of time it will take you to reach Lombardy. As you are currently in Bern, it is best that you travel east to Innsbruck, where you shall finf spearmen in mail waiting for you. However, there is currently an experienced Venetian army blocking the pass through the Alps from Innsbruck to Venice; you may need to fight your way through. Normally, I would not worry, but our recent defeat at the hands of that army may shake the spirits of our men somewhat, despite being commanded by an Imperial Prinz. Still, I trust your generalship will get you through.”

Henry sat up - Imperial matters, especially those involving the Prinz on campaign, were much more to his likely than factional politics. ”Going all the way to Innsbruck would be something of a diversion, but I wonder if I could rendezvous with their garrison somewhere between that settlement and Bern?

Henry paused for a moment. He knew Sigismund had voted against Edicts 4.1 and 4.2 restraining the Chancellor from attacking Milan and Venice. To raise the matter again would be impolite, but Henry felt it important to drive home the implications. “I am quite prepared to meet the Venetians in the field, although given our edicts to avoid excommunication, I believe a strategy of "passive aggression" will be best - we should induce them to strike first.”

Sigismund’s face was inscrutable as he moved on to the next item on his agenda. “I still hesitate to launch an offensive against Poland. We are stretched enough as it is, and I cannot trust some of those Franconians; after the example of their Duke, Dietrich, it would not be wise to place too many men under their command.

Henry did not react to Sigismund’s criticism of the Franconians: “On the Poles, I agree that taking the war to them is not a priority. I believe Franconia should take the initiative in proposing aggressive action. It is they who are besieged at Stettin and they who should initiate an appropriate response. Furthermore, only Dietrich is qualified to command an army. The lesser nobles in his House need to first earn their spurs - whether under his leadership or that of another. I would be happy to have one assigned to my command, as you yourself were once, Sigismund.”

Sigismund smiled faintly at the memory of simpler times, before he had become weighed down by matters of state. Then his brow darkened as he turned to the next item on his list.

“Now, we must discuss the Pope. I know that you are a supporter of the Pope, yet a German one, not a Roman. I agree, save that I do not wish that we ought to subject ourselves to him at all. Look at the chaos he has wrought upon us. Who can say what he might do later?”

Henry lowered his head, reverentially, and intoned softly: “Forbearance is the best approach. If we are patient, I suspect our enemies will not be. If they are excommunicated, then we can spring for their throats unrestrained.”

Sigismund looked up at the Prinz - he had reached the last item on his list: ”Finally, there is the matter of my successor. I have not, as yet, spoken to Count von Kassel, however, I am wondering whether you have heard from Steward Maximillian yet? His opinion would greatly assist our discussions.”

Henry nodded. Swabia owed a debt to Bavaria for backing Sigismund’s candidacy. Henry could not abide the thought of staying in debt to another and was keen to promote the candidacy of a Bavarian to succeed Sigismund as Chancellor. But which Bavarian? The first step was finding out if either or both prominent nobles in that House wished to stand. In truth, it seemed that Henry shared more in outlook with Count Otto and Sigismund with Steward Mandorf. But protocol implied that it was more appropriate, as head of a noble house, for Henry to approach Mandorf while Sigismund consulted his fellow Count, Otto.

“Like you, I have not yet communicated with my Bavarian counterpart but now that the mid-term is over, I believe now may be an appropriate time and will write to Maximillan before I depart for Lombardy.”

His list finished, Sigismund visibly started to relax. Henry watched with relief as the Chancellor put away his list. The mood in the room lightened.

“Now, let us drink to our success in Lombardy!”

[TinCow]

The chapel stank of stale incense, sweat, and human waste. The rector of the Nuremburg church made special efforts to cover up the foul stench coming from the figure hunched in the corner, but there was only so much a few passes with a thurible could do. The man had not left the room for a week. Though his bodily excretions had diminished quickly with his fasting, their odor remained, as if haunting him. The air itself had taken on a smoky appearance, though from dust, smoke, or stench, it was impossible to tell.

Maximillian Mandorf noticed none of this. Not the smell, not the hunger, not even the hairshirt on his back. His skin was ashen and tight around his face. To all others, a week had passed, but to Mandorf it had been a lifetime. The rigors of the fast and the constant prayer had stripped him of all memory of earthly pleasures.

He was aware of a presence in the room, though no sound had been made. For whatever reason, he simply knew she was there. She coughed gently to announce her presence, but he ignored it and continued in prayer, his lips moving in silence, his head rocking back and forth in short jerks. Minutes passed. When he finally finished, he bowed his head and looked at the floor.

“We have already completed the lesson for this evening. Why are you here?”

Hildegard von Bilgen cocked her head slightly and looked at him. “The week is over, your penance is done.” Mandorf did not respond. The nun was about to repeat herself, when his voice came in a soft whisper.

“I am not ready.”

“Perhaps your soul is not ready, but you body must be tended to. You must eat and regain your strength.”

“I am not ready.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Have you forgotten the lesson from yesterday morning so quickly?” She closed her eyes, tilted her head upwards, and began to recite a passage.

“If our soul, under the body's urging, does evil with the body, the power of our soul will be darkened, because the light of the truth is missing. But if later the soul feels humiliated by sin and rises up again in opposition to the desires of the flesh, it will henceforth harry that flesh and hinder its evil deeds.

Indeed, the soul sustains the flesh, just as the flesh sustains the soul. For, after all, every deed is accomplished by the soul and the flesh. And, therefore, the soul can achieve with the body good and holy things and be revived as a result.

In this connection, it often happens that our flesh may feel bored when it cooperates with the soul. In such a case, therefore, the soul may give in to its fleshly partner and let the flesh take delight in earthly things. Similarly, a mother knows how to get her crying child to laugh again. Thus the soul accomplishes good deeds with the body, even though there may be some evil mixed up with them. The soul lets this happen so as not to overburden the flesh too much.”

Hildegard’s eyes opened again and she looked at Mandorf. “You soul may still require time, but your flesh must be nourished. Without the one you will never be able to achieve the other.”

The Steward of Bavaria’s head tilted upwards; the movement so slow that it appeared he struggled against a great weight. “I cannot help myself. I still desire.” Hildegard could see pale vertical channels carved in the filth below his eyes; the memory of tears that had long since dried.

“Desire itself is not an evil thing. It is only acting on the sinful desire that is evil. A man can desire to be generous to others. A woman can desire to make her children happy. Are these signs of evil?” Again, silence penetrated the room. Mandorf’s head bowed again.

“It is you I desire.”

Hildegard paused and considered this for a moment. “Will you act on this desire?”

“No. Never without your permission.”

She nodded. “Permission which you cannot have. Do not think me unfeeling; your affections have been apparent to me for several days now. Were I another person, I would assent to your advances, but I am devoted to Christ and my oath is stronger than any earthly love.”

“I know. That is why I must continue. My desire will consume me, unless I consume it. Without food, my body will feast on my passions, until they too are gone.”

The nun shook her head. “Your passions can further the glory of Christ. You must simply harness them and direct them towards his Works. Besides, carnal pleasures are not evil if they are between a man and a woman united by love and marriage. You are without a wife, a man without a family. When you have found a love that is true, you may enjoy your passions with her and be blessed. Until then, use your desires for other purposes.”

Mandorf considered this and shook his head. He closed his eyes and parted his lips in preparation for prayer, but the words would not form in his head. He remained like that, frozen and listless, but he could not remember a single prayer. After some time, Mandorf raised his head and looked at the nun. “What purposes?”

She smiled and held out her hand. “Come… we will talk while you eat.”


---------


Note: Hildegard's sermon recital is an actual passage from her work "Liber Divinorum Operum".

[Kagemusha]

Near Magdeburg 13.6.1136 Anno Domini

Dietrich Von Saxony sat on his tent in front of a desk made from barrel. He was drinking beer after he had finished few urgent letters. After a long time of life without the matters of the Reich, many things that had felt hidious in the past felt better now. Maybe it was the succesfull battle against the Polish or just freshness of affairs after long time,Dietrich didnt know and really didnt care.
After he had returned to public life.The fist affair for him was to contact his Franconian Electors. He had already bonded with Jonas Von Mahren before and after the battle of Kamienski.

"There is a young man with great opportunities."

Dietrich thought.

"Only thing im worried about is the bit heavy drinking Mahren tend to do bit more usually then its usual. Many great men have lost their way with too much drinking, but then man is only young once and yuth is time of celebrating and recklesnes."

Gunther Von Kastillien had entered Dietrich&#180;s forces few days earlier,when Von Mahren was sent to Stettin by Dietrich to keep things organised in order to be ready for the next move of the Polish.

"This Von Kastillien is a very different kind of man then most of us. "

Early expressions from him was that he was bit silent,but not becouse of shyness. There was something very grim about Count Kastillien. He usually didnt smile much, but on one day when one of the remaining peasants of Dietrich&#180;s forces got into accident and got his feet mauled badly, Kastillien was very intrested on the suffering of the serf. But there was no sympathy in Von Kastilliens,behavior, rather like he was just looking at an animal and was intrested on its suffering.
Dietrich had talked few times briefly with Count Kastillien and there was no doubt that he wasnt an able man with lot of good qualities, but kindness was definately among his virtues. If Dietrich&#180;s expectations werent completely wrong. Soon he would find out how Von Kastillien would handle himself in the field of battle.
Dietrich had also named Fredericus von Hamburg,the former steward of Franconia as count of Hamburg. But after his return into public life he had not heard a word from Von Hamburg and was worried that Count Von Hamburg could hold some grudges over Dietrich,or that his loyalty was not what it was supposed to be. Maybe Von Hamburg had gained too much power while acting Steward of Franconia and was plannning on taking Dietrich&#180;s place as the Duke.

"What ever the truth may be.I have to meet Von Hamburg as soon as possible.I have to find out what is going through that mans mind."

Another case that puzzled Friedrich&#180;s mind was the fourth Elector of Franconia.

"He has been silent just like Count Von Hamburg. Could those two have plans against me? I have to find out or this time i could be put out of my position for good and not by my superiors, but by my closest own men."

Friedrich woke up from his thoughts and realized that soon it would be morning. He stepped out and felt the fresh morning mist on his face. A guard was walking near him and stopped for a moment when he saw the Duke of Franconia on this early hour, standing outside his tent,while most men were still sleeping. Dietrich answered on the guards salutation and watched over to the horizon,where the first rays of the rising sun were colouring the morning sky red.

[TinCow]

The smell of food almost made him wretch. When his fast began, the hunger pains gnawed at him ceaselessly. For three days it had been nearly all he could think about. The ritual of prayer became a shield with which he could fend off the beast of starvation. On the fourth day, the pain receded into a dull ache which in turn became a simple presence in his mind; a constant reminder of his sins. His soul mastered his flesh and the healing began.

Yet with the first waft of odor, it all rushed back to him. His stomach knotted so tightly that he found it difficult to walk. With great effort, Mandorf achieved the rough-hewn table, seating himself before the source of his agony. It was a thin, steaming gruel with a few chunks of solid matter that might have once been turnips. His household dogs would have refused better food than this. It took all of his willpower not to grab the bowl and gulp it.

Slowly and deliberately, he folded his hands, bowed his head, and mumbled the Common Prayer. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hildegard smiling at him.

“Your patience at this final moment serves you well, my Lord.” She gestured towards the bowl. “Please, eat.”

Mandorf stared at the gruel for a moment, then picked up the dish and drank deeply. The hot liquid coursed through his body, warming parts of him where the very memory of heat was long forgotten. The nun waited until the bowl was half empty before she began.

“You do not hide your feelings for Pope Gregory.”

Mandorf froze, his lips a hair’s breadth from the edge of the bowl.

“Why do you hate him so?”

He raised his head and looked at her, then remembered the gruel in his hands and carefully placed it on the table. “He has rejected God’s laws, sinned against the Kaiser, excommunicated the Reich’s allies, supported those who have rebelled against us, and allowed war to be waged against us.” Mandorf’s voice grew icy. “He is an abomination, a tool of Satan.”

“What do you know of God’s laws? Does he speak to you?”

His eyes narrowed. “It has always been the right of the Roman Emperor to appoint the Pope.”

“Always? Did an Emperor appoint Peter?”

The anger on Mandorf’s face turned to confusion. “Of course not, he was the successor of Christ, by divine appointment.”

“Was Peter’s successor, Pope Linus, appointed by an Emperor?” Mandorf did not answer. “So, it has not always been the right of the Emperor to appoint the Pope. Why then is it God’s law?”

“It has been this way for years beyond memory. It is the way of the Church.”

Hildegard shook her head. “That does not answer the question.” She paused for a moment, then looked Mandorf in the eye. “Do you think all of the Cardinals are evil men?”

The Steward of Bavaria frowned. He thought of Cardinal Otterbach and Cardinal Scherer. “No, of course not.”

“If the Cardinals are good and holy men, true to the Word, then surely they would also choose a worthy man to act as the Vicar of Christ.”

It was all Mandorf could do to control his frustration. “NO! They have not done so! They have supported Gregory!”

“Is he really so evil?”

He wanted to pound on the table, to overturn it, to break it, break something, break anything. “HE HAS ENCOURAGED WAR AGAINST US!”

“You mean the Milanese and the Venitians.”

“YES!”

“Then why has he excommunicated Venice? Why did he not use his army to defend Milan and Genoa?”

Mandorf’s eyes glazed over. Why indeed. What was Gregory playing at? Why undermine his own allies?

The nun stepped closer. “Did you ever consider that Gregory has simply sought to maintain order amongst Christian nations? Perhaps he has made mistakes, made enemies where he should not have, and made friends of foul men, but who are you to say what is in his heart?”

Maximillian shook his head. “Simply being Pope does not make a man holy.”

Hildegard grinned. “Indeed.” She looked up at the soot darkened beams which supported the peaked ceiling. “Some undertake the religious life renouncing not their own will but only their secular clothes, because they have experienced misery and poverty instead of riches in the world; they leave the world because they cannot have it as they wish. Others are foolish and simple about the world and, being unable to guide themselves, are contemptible to people; so they flee from the world because they are mocked by it. Others labor greatly under the calamities of sickness and bodily weakness, and so leave the world not for God’s sake but to remedy these afflictions more easily.
Yet others suffer such great anguish and oppression from the temporal Lords to whom they are subject that they withdraw from the world for fear of them, not so as to obey God’s precepts but only so that those Lords can no longer have power over them. So all these come to the religious life not for the sake of celestial love but for the sake of the earthly troubles they have, not knowing whether God is salted with wisdom or insipid, sweet or bitter, a dweller in Heaven or on earth.”

She turned her gaze upon Mandorf once more. “Who are you to judge whether Gregory is one of these or not?”

Fatigue rushed over Mandorf. Fatigue from a week’s worth of fasting and prayer. Fatigue from a lifetime of duty and responsibility. “I am a loyal vassal of the Kaiser,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

The nun nodded. “As you should be, but you are also a Christian. What has Heinrich gained from challenging Gregory? What has the Reich gained?”

His head sagged, his shoulders slumped. “Rebellion. War. Humiliation. Death.”

“Is it loyal to lead your Kaiser to his destruction? Is it loyal to cause the deaths of so many Bavarian sons?”

Mandorf shook his head. “I will not side with Gregory against the Kaiser.”

“It is not a question of sides. You must simply obey the Will of Christ. If Gregory’s actions violate God’s Word, then he must be resisted. If his actions are generous and Christian, they must be obeyed.”

He looked up into her eyes. They sparkled with a clarity and compassion that he had not seen since he was a child. “How am I to know one from another?”

The smile that spread across her face was like the first warm breath of spring after a hard winter. “If you are true to the Lord, you shall never doubt.”

She sat down next to him. He could feel her warmth through her course robes. “Trust in God, follow your heart, but do not judge. Follow the Word in all your actions.”

She placed her hand on his. “We can never be together, but you can embrace your passions for me. Use them for the glory of Christ. Act as his servant in all matters. Follow those who in turn follow the Teachings. Shun those who stray from the path. Bring justice to those who are in need.”

Her eyes darkened, her tone became subdued. “Destroy those who are evil. Do this, and you will be the beloved of God, and I will be forever at your side. We may be lovers in soul, if not in flesh.”

Mandorf drank in the sight of Hildegard von Bilgen. The gruel lay forgotten in front of him. His hunger was gone, and he knew it would never return. He turned his eyes and looked back into the chapel. Sunlight was playing on the altar, illuminating the gilded cross. He gazed at it for a long moment, then stood and held out his hand.

“Come. There is much work to be done.”

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

Note: Hildegard's comments about the reasons why some people join the Church is an actual passage from her work "Scivias.”

[GeneralHankerchief]

(OOC: This is a prelude to the Kaiser's recent actions regarding Rome, written by OverKnight and myself.)

Bologna, 1142

A sentry in the beleagured city observed a large dust cloud to the south, heading his way. While only a militiaman, he was trained to know what that type of dust cloud meant: military movement.

Judging by the size of the cloud, it was a small army, perhaps two regiments. It certainly was too big for any Imperial general's escort, even the Kaiser's. It was the right size for both Kaiser Heinrich and Prinz Henry, as well as their escorts, but why would both of these royals visit the city and leave their large army about to relieve Florence leaderless?

The sentry really didn't want to take any chances. "Someone alert Count von Kassel," he cried. "We've got something moving this way, and fast! It could be a Milanese scouting party."

Several minutes later, Otto von Kassel arrived on the scene, slightly tense with anticipation, only to groan when he saw the soldiers for himself. They were indeed the Kaiser and his escort, but there was also a mysterious entourage behind him that was not the Prinz's.

Upon greeting Heinrich, Otto asked a question about this unknown escort but the Kaiser brushed it off, instead motioning to the nearest church.

"Come, von Kassel. We have much to discuss, but first we must attend mass."

Otto stared slightly. This was odd. Although he was by all means a religious person, the Kaiser was never known to put it ahead of matters of state. During the mass and the serving of communion, his mind was on what the Kaiser could possibly want, while Heinrich's seemed to be elsewhere altogether.

After the mass got out ("lovely sermon," the Kaiser remarked to the priest), he finally turned his attention toward the soon-to-be-Duke.

"Otto, our time is approaching. Soon, very soon, unless of course I die in the upcoming battle against the Milanese, Elsebeth will come of age and the two of you shall marry. I have brought her and her escort to Bologna to get you two acquainted until this time comes. Hopefully the two of you shall have a friendly relationship."

The Kaiser paused, letting this sink in for a minute before continuing.

"Once you are married, you will become the Duke of Bavaria with all of its benefits. This includes certain powers detailed in the Imperial Charter, powers that the Dukes currently do not share with me. You are aware of these, correct?"


Otto could not help but smile. In vino veritas, he thought, I was right, my path is set. His expression quickly changed as he realized the enormity of what lay before him.

Glancing about him for eavesdroppers in the Church, Otto removed a folded, wine stained piece of paper from his belt pouch. Straightening it out, he read from it while keeping his voice low and even, "Article 3.3, any declaration of war must be authorised by an Imperial edict. The Chancellor or any Duke is empowered to declare war on a non-allied army entering its lands."

He folded the paper up and replaced it, "Maximillian is the Chancellor, regrettably, but I will be a Duke soon enough. I would be honored to do this for you on the day of your daughter's wedding. I am glad you brought Elsebeth, mein Kaiser, I look forward to meeting her. A couple should be introduced before they are married."

Otto leaned in, his voice becoming more conspiratorial, "There is one complication, however, your Majesty. The language is vague, some might say that a Duke can only declare war on an army trespassing in his own Duchy. Unfortunately, Hildebrand's army has moved from Milan, which is Bavarian, to the outskirts of Genoa, an Imperial city. If we are to have success in this endeavor, Kaiser, we must follow the letter of the law."

At Otto's latest comment, apparently to be used as a bargaining chip, the Kaiser threw his head back and laughed. The sound echoed throughout the church but the few people still inside did not give it much of a thought. They knew to leave the nobles to their business.

"It's yours. It was always going to be yours. I'm surprised that you figured out that much without realizing that Genoa would be yours. The only city I really care about is Rome, of course. I was just using Florence as a watchtower."

The Kaiser's face, wrinkled and hair almost completely gray, now had an expression that Otto had never seen before. Relatively few people did. It was full of energy and ready for anything, but this was not the same as before he went into a battle. It was clear that Heinrich had been leading up to this moment for a long time. The expression could best be categorized as... giddy.

"Now, your first days as Duke are going to be extremely busy. Once you and Elsebeth are married and the deed against Rome is done, you are to go to Innsbruck to supervise the completion of the Bavarian House army, of which you have complete control over. That fool Mandorf cannot complain otherwise; it was he who insisted that these armies be under the total supervision of the Dukes."

The church was by now empty, leaving Otto and the increasingly-excited Heinrich alone. He was talking in the same manner as a child telling a friend about a secret he had so desperately wanted to reveal.

"Assuming my army is not decimated after relieving Florence, I am going to head to Rome and assault it immediately. We must again thank Chancellor Mandorf for providing me with ballistae. Without his assistance this move would not be possible."

Otto said nothing. The Kaiser was clearly on a roll.

"At that point, Pope Gregory will have lost his safe haven and will most likely pursue one of two courses: Either he will besiege what is most likely in front of him, which is Genoa, or he will move on Rome. Now, if he attacks Rome (which would be extremely satisfying if he did, since I am itching for a defensive fight), you and the House army will most likely not get there in time, and I either drive the Pope off myself or die a heroic death. The minstrels would love it if this option happened, but the more ideal scenario would be Genoa."

Heinrich finally remembered to draw breath. He then continued.

"If that happens, then I march north from Rome and you south from Innsbruck. Then, together, we break the Pope's army and finish this Investiture Crisis once and for all."

Otto had never seen the Kaiser like this. This is his last throw of the dice, thought Otto. He will triumph, or he will die, the simplicity must be intoxicating.

"Mein Kaiser, I would have liked very much to have marched on Rome with you," Otto replied, "but we will need my Bavarians. It shall be as you say, my lord."

Otto wished he shared the Kaiser's new found serenity, but the possible consequences of their actions troubled him, "What we do is right, but there will be a price, there will be rioting in Italy I'm sure, if not the whole Reich. The Diet will be screaming for our heads, and if we don't get our own selection for Pope in power before the next session, they might be able to curtail us. Who do you favor mein Kaiser, Scherer or Otterbach?"

Heinrich laughed loudly again and sighed. "How I have longed to have been asked that question," he said. "Obviously Otterbach would be more fitting for what will hopefully be a total victory. The position of God's Messenger being held by a woman. Can you believe that? Oh, didn't you know? Otterbach is a woman. I knew as soon as I made her priest. Isn't that funny?"

Heinrich was totally oblivious to Otto's caution. He continued, still giddy. "I'm not sure if Otterbach's a preferati or not, so we'll have to side with Scherer for a while. That's assuming he lives through this. Last I heard the man was pretty ill. And hey, even if nobody we like is in the preferati, I can always... depose them."

He laughed one final time before departing (making sure to genuflect), leaving Otto alone in the House of God where two men had just conspired to overthrow the Pope.

Otto watched the Kaiser leave. Nausea filled him, but this time, wine was not the cause. All he wants is to spit Hildebrand, and the rest of us can burn for all he cares. Yet, I am committed. This must be done. I can only ride out the storm, not control it, and hope that I will not drown.

Otto moved to the altar of the Church and gazed at the Crucifix behind it. Swallowing hard, Otto knelt, and for the first time since he had left home as a young man, he prayed.

[OverKnight]

A cooperative story from TC and OK

A further exchange of letters, dating from 1146, the beginning of the second Investiture Crisis, have been translated.

Maximillian,

As you read this, I'm sure you are aware of the actions the Kaiser and myself have taken in Italy. Hildebrand has violated our borders for too long! I can only imagine your reaction, but what I do, I do for the good of Bavaria and the Reich. This day was coming for a long while, since the investiture crisis, and it is time we restored the influence of the Reich in the affairs of the Church. We have the forces available in Italy to do so, all the other nations in the area are excommunicated, and we have an Imperial Cardinal, nearing the preferati, as a possible replacement for Hildebrand. The time to complete the full restoration of the Reich is now!

There was a time when you would have welcomed this day. You and I found ourselves on the opposite ends of this issue before, yet now we have switched sides, an unfortunate irony. It's not too late Maximillian, join us! Your aid, as Chancellor and a leading man of the realm, not to mention as my friend, would be priceless.

Do you not find it odd that the Pope has excommunicated his neighbors, Sicily, Milan and Venice? Or the fact that he, a man of the cloth, leads an army marching around Italy? The man seeks temporal hegemony in the area. Are these the actions of a true Vicar of Christ? He has sent his agent to you, after hearing of your past denunciations, to cloud your mind and blunt your purpose. Think, Maximillian, it's a little too convenient, isn't it?

No matter what you decide, your new title and lands are yours. You more than deserve them for your long, distinguished service to Bavaria and the Reich. Besides, you made me a Count, it's the least I could do for you.

I beg you, join with us, together we can restore the Church and the Reich, bringing both to a Golden Age!

Otto

~~~~~~~~~~

Otto,

You have brought the Wrath of God down upon us! The Pope has declared Heinrich excommunicated, his personal army now threatens all our holdings in Italy, and citizens in every city in the Reich are in great unrest! YOU HAVE DAMNED US!

I spent hours in prayer to the Holy Father when I received word of your treachery, but my hand still shakes as I write this. The Kaiser was the one who arranged all of this and you were his willing pawn. Yet I cannot help but think that I am guilty myself for failing to prevent this. I am Chancellor, I swore to protect the Reich, uphold the law, and promote Christian values. Now I am not even halfway through with my term and the Reich is threatened with total destruction!

Otto, you have betrayed Bavaria, you have betrayed the Reich, you have betrayed all of Christendom, but the worst of it is that you have betrayed me! We were friends and allies once. Even when you were my vassal I respected you and your opinion above all others. I even forgave you for voting against me in the election.

However, I cannot forgive this. Our friendship is over. Your soul is doomed and mine hangs in the balance. My first duty is to protect the Reich. There will be unbelievably trying times ahead of us and I must devote all of my efforts towards keeping our cursed and war-ravaged lands from totally dissolving. For now you and the Kaiser are beyond my power, but know this, traitor. Somehow, I will find a way to bring God’s holy vengeance down upon you. I swear that I will personally light the bonfire that consumes your mortal shell and sends your soul to Satan for all eternity. Perhaps by doing this I will avoid a similar fate.

We will not speak again. The next time you see me, we will be enemies.

Maximillian

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chancellor,

You spend too much time on your knees! Now is the time for action!

When next you see me, I'll be dead or a hero of the Reich, either way you will find it difficult to burn me alive.

Farewell,

Duke von Kassel

[Kagemusha]

As Dietrich Von Saxony closed the door of the Diet hall behind him,he couldnt believe what he has just heard.
"Now the old man has finally done it. He has placed the Lords of the Reich for the second time to choose between himself and the Gods representative on earth."
"Maybe he has gone mad?" Dietrich asked from himself. "I could just have the Diet building surrounded,Kaiser doesnt have many men with him. The Prinz is not here and Leopold is enraged." Once Dietrich got into his own rooms,he summoned a guard. "Get me Captain Herman here,right now!" As the servant started running Dietrich continued thinking "The situation is flammable atleast. Basicly anything could happen in matter of hours. I better make sure that im prepared." Veteran Captain Herman came running into the room,trying to put his gear like it was supposed to be "Mein Duke.." Herman tryed to start,but Dietrich interfered "Shut up my friend and listen. Something has just happened and we have to take measures,if the situation calls for that. In all silence create a ring around the Diet,so no one gets out or in,without us knowing it. Pick just trustworthy men. I dont want the whole city to know about that." Herman started to ask something,but Dietrich commanded "Now Go! I will tell you later,what this about."
As Herman left the room Dietrich sat down and watched the flame of the candle on his writing table. "This will be a long night." He thought.

[TinCow]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hildegard scowled. “You choose the night!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[GeneralHankerchief]

A small church outside of Genoa, 1154

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[OverKnight]

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

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

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

The die is cast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The question is what should I do about it?

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

Outside Genoa, 1154

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

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

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

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

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

[GeneralHankerchief]

Genoa, 1154

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

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

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

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

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

The Pope said nothing, so the Kaiser continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd appreciate some input, Hildebrand."

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

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

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

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

"I want an answer, Hildebrand."

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

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

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

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

"What was that?"

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

Heinrich grinned menacingly.

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

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

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

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

Heinrich ignored the final plea.

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

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

[econ21]

Somewhere in North Italy, 1154

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned angrily to the shaven headed monk:

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

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

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

[Ituralde]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dietrich looks in the eyes of Leopold and answers:

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

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


(written by Kagemusha and Ituralde)

[Ituralde]

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



Dear Otto von Kassel,
Duke of Bavaria!

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

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

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

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

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

Yours faithfully,

Duke Leopold


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


Duke Leopold,

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

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

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

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

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

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

I will find your silence most comforting.

Otto von Kassel

[FactionHeir]

Late Winter 1169

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your dear son,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Co-op story with Ituralde

[Ituralde]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



in cooperation with FactionHeir

[Ituralde]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


in cooperation with FactionHeir

[GeneralHankerchief]

Rome, 1192

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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