Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[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]

Outside of Milan, 1136

Twilight illuminated the Italian sky, casting some interesting shadows over Kaiser Heinrich and his army's campsite. Hundreds of tents littered the fields of what was once known as Aemilia. The largest and most richly decorated of these tents housed the commander the army and Holy Roman Emperor. While he was not Chancellor, Heinrich still held immense power and influence, although some of it seemed to be lessening of late.

"Ugh, I can't believe that fool Mandorf sides with the Pope now too. After all these years. Who would have thought that he would have given in so quickly?"

Heinrich was steaming about his encounter in the Diet with the Steward of Bavaria, Maximillian Mandorf. The unlucky recepient of the Kaiser's venting was his trusted advisor, Captain Ludwig, who had long accepted that this would be one of his roles in life.

"So how many heads of the Houses have you angered now?" Despite all the anger emanating from the Kaiser, Ludwig knew that the time was not quite wrong to tell a joke.

It worked, getting a slight chuckle out of Heinrich. "Hmm, that's a tough one. Publicly, three out of the four Dukes and Stewards are now against me: Dietrich (although I may not have to worry about him much longer if the Polish fight well), Leopold, and now Mandorf. Privately, Henry disagrees with me I'm sure, but he at least has enough loyalty to say nothing. So I am a Kaiser with the heads of Houses united against me. Excellent."

Ludwig, pushing his luck, tried another funny comment. "Well, at least they're united about something."

However, this only seemed to depress the Kaiser, as he sunk down into his throne-like chair. "I've spent the second half of my life trying to right the wrongs I made in the first half, but these idiots don't care about that. All they do is scream 'But I want MY house to be the best!' in these shrill falsetto voices, and if I make a decision that puts the good of the Reich over the good of their House, they stir trouble and make my life even more difficult. Honestly, I'm thinking about marrying Elsebeth off to a Frenchman."

"A wise decision, Mein Kaiser," Ludwig chimed in, offering his opinion on the Kaiser's soon-to-be-of-age daughter.

Heinrich looked at him oddly. "No it isn't! It's the French! That's how bad our nobility has become! The only marriable options here are Mandorf, who's probably chopped off his reproducer by now, and a couple of no-name Franconians."

It was an unspoken agreement that the Kaiser would never marry his second daughter off to a Franconian, after the first one ended in zero children and a falling out.

Ludwig, however, finally said something of merit.

"There is von Kassel, Mein Kaiser..."

Von Kassel. The man had fought admirably well in the campaigns in Bern and Italy. However, there was the slight problem of Otto disagreeing with most of his proposals in the Diet, especially the most important one: taking back Rome.

"At least he does it respectfully," Heinrich said out loud, not realizing his previous thoughts had been only thoughts. "Ludwig, what do you know of his past?"

Captain Ludwig, who considered himself an expert on biographies of the Electors, rattled off some facts. "Otto von Kassel - born into a minor noble family, if it was nobility at all - now that I think of it, it's not. Anyway, it seems as if he was betrothed once as a youth but it was broken off (the details are rather shoddy). He got the rank of General through merit, which is pretty impressive."

Heinrich jumped at this. "So do you think he'd be eager for more power?"

Ludwig shook his head. "It's hard to tell with these types, Sir. Even if he was, would it be enough to compromise his principles and side with you the whole time?"

The Kaiser sighed. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Go to Milan and get him."

Ludwig started. "Now? But the twilight's almost out, and it will take quite some time to get to Milan."

"Just do it, Ludwig. I'm getting isolated in the Diet here, and I don't have much more time. Pope Gregory and his damned city are slipping away."

Captain Ludwig bowed and exited the opulent tent, leaving the Kaiser alone to hear hoofbeats heading in the direction of Milan.

[OverKnight]

OOC: This is a collaborative story between myself and GeneralHankerchief.

Milan, 1136

Otto von Kassel was woken by someone pounding on the door to his bed chamber. Snapping awake, he drew a dagger from underneath his pillow and leapt to his feet.

Otto had not slept well since the Reich had taken Milan, the city was a hotbed of discontent and several attempts had been made on his life by the locals. The would be assassins had been killed, their decaying bodies on display at the front gates of the palace as a warning to the Milanese. Without enough men to properly rule the city, Otto had to keep the Milanese cowed through fear.

Balanced on the balls of his feet with his blade extended, Otto called out, "Who's there?"

"My lord", replied a voice at the door, "The Kaiser has summoned you to his camp outside the city."

Lowering his dagger, Otto glanced out the window of the room, night still hung heavily on the city. "What time is it?", he asked.

"After midnight von Kassel, the Kaiser said to bring you to him immediately, no delay."

Otto recognized the voice now, it was Heinrich's second, Captain Ludwig, the leader of his bodyguard. A chill ran down Otto's spine. The Kaiser had chased off the second Venetian siege of Milan, but had not tarried in the city, in fact Otto felt he had been deliberately snubbed. Yet now the Kaiser wished to speak to him, in the middle of the night? Swallowing hard, Otto spoke, "Give me a moment, Sir, to dress and I will be with you shortly."

Emerging from his room clothed in riding leathers and a sword, two of Otto's men tried to form up on him.

Ludwig waved them off with a growl, "You're to come alone, no escort, the Kaiser's orders."

"Of course", said Otto in a flat voice, "Lead on Captain."

The ride to Heinrich's army camp was short and Otto soon found himself in front of the Kaiser's campaign tent, an elaborate affair that dwarfed the others. Two armed guards stood at attention in front of the entrance flap, spearheads gleaming in the torchlight. Otto moved to enter the tent. The guards crossed their spears blocking him.

"Before you enter von Kassel, I'll need your weapons", Ludwig said from behind him.

Otto turned, and glared at Ludwig. Unbuckling his sword belt he thrust it at the Captain, "You will address me as my lord or Count, Sir."

One side of Ludwig's mouth quirked upwards, "My apologies, the Kaiser is waiting to see you. . .my lord."

Otto turned away from him and passing the guards he entered the tent.

Apprehension filled Otto. He had never had an audience with the Kaiser besides the occasional encounter in the Diet or written message. They traveled in different circles, up-jumped soldiers and high nobles rarely mixed. Why does he want to see me now?, thought Otto. Reviewing his past interactions with the Kaiser did not comfort him. Otto had opposed a preemptive war with Venice and a campaign against Rome, both favorites of Heinrich.

I believe I called that last one hubris, a poor choice of words at best. I pray my service in the field has bought me some leeway. Yes, the Electors could debate in the Diet, but they served the Kaiser at his sufferance. The man still had the divine mandate of Kings. One only need think of Dietrich von Saxony, the man's own son-in-law, exiled for years and just now returning to public life. Most likely he's summoned me to go build watchtowers for the next decade, Otto thought darkly to himself. Shaking off his doubts Otto moved from the entrance further into the tent.

The Kaiser sat on an elaborate camp seat, more akin to a throne than a stool. He gazed into a small fire burning in a brazier near the center of the tent. Firelight glinted off his crown as shadows thrown by the flames danced across his face. Otto approached Heinrich and kneeled. Bowing his head, Otto spoke to the Emperor, "I am here as you commanded, mein Kaiser."


Heinrich, the Holy Roman Emperor, studied this man who addressed him. In all the times that they had deliberated in the Diet he could never get a good read on the count of Bavaria. It was obvious that Dietrich was ambitious, Henry was preparing for a career to please everyone, and that Mandorf was something of a nutter. But Otto von Kassel remained an enigma.

Sure, he had disagreed with the Kaiser's plans. Openly, at that. But he always did so in subtle ways. There was none of the brash confrontational bluster that Dietrich and Leopold had taken in recent years when presenting their grievances to Heinrich. Did that mean that he was just smarter than them, or was that his personality?

I am going to figure you out tonight, the Kaiser thought to himself as he smiled at the man currently paying him respect.

"Rise Otto von Kassel, Count of Bavaria," he said somewhat kindly as Otto did as he was told. "It's a shame that you and me have not really had the chance to talk - you have been a powerful voice in the Diet for a non-noble."

Otto said nothing at this. Obviously the Kaiser was just warming up.

"Captain Ludwig tells me that you were born and raised in Bavaria, and that you've received your military position due to merit. Also, you have had... a chance to marry into nobility but due to circumstances it did not happen."

Von Kassel stared. It appeared that the Kaiser's contacts knew much. It would be interesting to determine how much this man really knew about his Electors in the Diet.

"Let me be frank with you. I need an ally, you want more influence. I can't trust Mandorf anymore, not with that witch leeching his passion and devotion to his Kaiser away. Bavaria has also taken the brunt of the casualties in this Italian campaign, and I believe that it needs a Duke."

This was obviously the part that Heinrich was leading up to.

"I am offering my daughter Elsebeth's hand in marriage to you."


Otto's eyes widened in surprise. This was. . .unexpected. He had girded himself for a defense of his actions in the Diet, charges of disloyalty, and possible exile. Yet the Kaiser was offering him more than he ever dreamed possible. Heinrich had thought about this though, his knowledge of Otto's thwarted betrothal showed that.

My God, after all these years it still hurts to think of it, thought Otto. Unbidden the memories came back, he and Katarine had been so young. Otto clenched his jaw. It had been a love match, the second son of a rich but minor noble family, and the younger sister of a Baron whose family's name had heritage, but whose coffers were empty. His father had at first opposed the match, he was intent that Otto go to seminary, but it made too much sense for both families for him to deny for long. Then the Baron, only a young man himself, had died without issue and Katarine had become an heiress.

Otto's father, sensing an opportunity to add to not only the lands but to the dignity of the von Kassels, quickly substituted his elder son, Aldrick, as the suitor. If there was an estate and a title now involved, the oldest son, the heir of the von Kassel's, should receive them. Katarine's mother had quickly agreed. Otto had begged, cajoled and threatened, but in the end he was powerless. Katarine was now his sister-in-law, and at last count he had four nephews and nieces. Otto was surprised how intensely the anger still burned in him. The same anger had pushed him from his home and into the military. He had never sought to marry again.

Snapping back to the present, he could feel the Kaiser's gaze upon him. Otto sought to control his feelings, to restore a neutral expression to his features. Openly showing his emotions could be dangerous, a man walks with caution among giants. Only in the heat of battle did Otto allow himself to unleash his passions, there it was safe to do so and even useful. The Kaiser's offer, despite bringing forth bad memories, tempted him greatly. It was difficult for Otto to maintain his composure when the world was being offered to him.

Stalling for time Otto spoke, "Mein Kaiser, your man is well informed except for one fact. The von Kassels are nobles, minor to be sure, but we have served the Reich and Bavaria since the age of Charlemagne."


Heinrich paused. He did not enjoy getting his facts wrong. That was why he was a little angered at Sigismund for underestimating the strength of the Polish forces.

"Of course, but you must understand that there's nobility and there's... nobility. I apologize for the slip-up."

Otto's play for more time was good for exactly two sentences, plus emphasis on the word "nobility". It didn't take too long for the Kaiser to get back on track.

"Now," he began, "You may have some doubts in your mind about this, and I don't blame you. First of all, I have spoken to Elsebeth about this matter (she does not know that you will be the one marrying her but she does know that a marriage will be arranged) and I can assure you that she is willing to do her duty as a daughter of the Reich. If you accept, you get the title of Duke of Bavaria and all of its benefits, including added influence in the Diet."

Heinrich took a breath, trying to get a read on Otto. None came. This man was good.

"Obviously, some conditions are required in order for this marriage to follow through, mainly you must actually attempt to father plenty of children. I think if Dietrich had actually produced some grandchildren for me then I wouldn't have put him in such a bad position." He laughed harshly, unaware that Otto had been scared out of his wits about facing the same punishment as Dietrich just minutes earlier.

"So, what say you?"


The Kaiser had given Otto little time to think. Heinrich's laugh had made him jump a bit. This man was raised in power and dignity, and is not afraid to use either as a weapon, thought Otto.

If he said yes, he would be a Duke, power and position that could not be taken away at a whim. He would be his Father's overlord. He hated to admit it, but the thought filled Otto with schadenfreude. Yet there was something unspoken in the Kaiser's offer. He had mentioned one condition, yet there were sure to be others. Yes, he would be a powerful man, but he would be more beholden to the Kaiser as a Duke than a Count. Grandchildren would be the smallest price to pay.

What if I said no?, Otto thought. I have risen far in the Reich by my own actions and with the assistance of Maximillian, a good friend if a touch eccentric. Perhaps it would be best if I left well enough alone. But how would the Kaiser react to a refusal? Powerful men do not like to hear the word no, there are still many watchtowers to be built on the frontier. And If I did say no, who would be the Duke? If the Kaiser wanted the Steward as Duke, he would not have offered Elsebeth's hand to me.

The thought of a stranger as Duke filled Otto with regret. He and Maximillian had put much effort into making Bavaria first among the Duchies. To let a stranger, a non-Bavarian, fritter it away would be terrible. Otto was tempted to say yes.

"Mein Kaiser there is no need to apologize," Otto said, trying to keep his voice even, "Your proposal intrigues me, but besides children, a duty of any Christian marriage, what are the other 'conditions'?"


Otto was definitely sharp; the Kaiser gave him credit for that. In an ideal situation, Heinrich would have liked it if von Kassel had blindly agreed and he could simply catch him on the conditions later. But the wily general had seen through it. Damn it all, because his hand was forced early there was a chance that his proposal might be rejected!

"Ah, the other conditions - of course," said Heinrich as he drummed his fingers on the extremely opulent fabric that covered his knees. "As I said before, I need an ally, especially in the Diet. My own sons care mostly for their Dukedoms instead of the good of the entire Reich. I could usually count on Mandorf for my support but now his vote is called into question thanks to that woman." He shuddered. News of Hildegard's transformation of the Steward of Bavaria from a playboy to a snivelling lapdog had reminded him the dangers of the truly pious.

"I simply ask you to please keep in mind who gave you your current position -if you accept of course- when you cast your votes in the Diet. I am growing old, Otto, and before I die I would like to see certain things accomplished. Certain things that your past words and actions may not add up with. I am deliberating whether to attempt another Chancellor run in the coming session, your support would be much welcome there."

As if it were a cue to a change in Heinrich's tone, the fire suddenly turned more intense, casting even darker shadows over the Kaiser's face.

"However, if you accept and you cross me, you will be wishing that you were put on watchtower duty."


Otto swallowed hard. Besides being told no, powerful men hated to explain themselves. His patience is running thin, Otto thought, I walk a fine line here. He was reminded of the assault on Bern when the first siege tower had burst into flames. This situation had the same danger, but also the same opportunity.

Steadying himself, Otto spoke, "Your Majesty, you already have the war with Venice, and the Chancellorship will most likely be yours for the taking, the only goal that eludes you is Pope Gregory. That is where you would need my help."

Otto looked into the shadowed face of the Kaiser. He could see the grim set to it. I would hate a man, any man, even the savior himself, who made me stand in snow, clad only in hairshirt for four days, and all that for a mere audience. We have taken back the Reich, but the man responsible for it's troubles still draws breath.

Otto had never been a supporter of Pope Gregory. Gregory's actions had caused great harm to the Kaiser and the Reich. Despite his father's intentions, he was not a particularly devout man, but Otto respected the temporal power the Pope held. His word was law across most of Europe. Even now the armies of Christendom marched on Tunis because the Pope had called a crusade. That is why Otto had opposed an early move on Rome, the Reich was simply not strong enough to take on all of Europe.

Otto chose his worlds carefully, "I hope you realize, mein Kaiser, that my opposition to an attack on Rome was based on the current state of the Reich at that point and not out of any support for Hildebrand or fear of hellfire.

"Rome, at some point, must bend the knee to the Reich as it did in the past. We must regain our right of approval over the appointment of Popes. We draw closer to that point with our conquests in Italy, but we are still on the knife's edge, as the seizure of Bologna has shown."

Otto drew a deep breath. As he exhaled he thought, How much am I willing to sacrifice for a title and a royal wife?

Otto reached a decision, "My lord, if you still wish to replace Pope Gregory on the throne of Peter, I will aid you. But I hope you will strike when the Reich is ready and our enemies are not."

He kneeled in front of the Emperor, "Kaiser Heinrich, I am your man. I will marry Elsebeth if you will have me."

The die is cast, thought Otto as he awaited the Kaiser's decision.


How many rulers are placed in this position, Heinrich thought. How many Kings and Sultans and Emperors are required to marry off their daughters to some lowly noble general just so that they get their way politically?

Have I really stooped this low in life where I need to do this in order to cement my legacy and fulfill my final wish?

"Nevertheless, I suppose that this show of weakness is only temporary until I get my final revenge."

"Beg your pardon, Mein Kaiser?" Otto looked at him questioningly. Wow, did I just say that out loud? I really must be getting old. The Kaiser smiled at his soon-to-be son-in-law.

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere." That wasn't entirely a lie. "Yes, I believe that almost fifty years of rule have made me acutely aware of the Reich's current strength. First things must be first, obviously. Rest assured Otto, I will not attack until the moment we are ready.

The Kaiser placed his hand on Otto's shoulder, looking at him with something like relief in his eyes. This was very different from the expressions that had come from Heinrich's face all evening.

"Thank you for agreeing. Together the Reich will be strengthened. Your betrothal shall be announced at the upcoming Diet session and your wedding will begin immediately when Elsebeth turns sixteen.

"May the Lord be with you in your upcoming military actions, soon-to-be Duke of Bavaria."


Rising to his feet, Otto felt a great sense of relief rush through him. Duke von Kassel, he had thought Maximillian mad when the Steward had first mentioned the possibility. Yet he would be Duke now. A new foreboding filled Otto, How will Maximillian react? How will the Diet react? Otto shook his head, Whatever comes, I will face it, I will not be daunted. I serve the Reich!


After Otto had bowed and left, being escorted back to Milan, the Kaiser was left alone with his second and advisor, Captain Ludwig, once again.

"Well," Ludwig stated smartly, "That's taken care of. Do you think Otto will hold up his end of the bargain?"

Heinrich sighed. "God, I hope so." After silently berating and crossing himself for using the Lord's name in vain, he continued. "I told them about Venice, but nobody listened. They don't seem to be listening to me about Gregory either, even after he blatantly seduces Mandorf."

Ludwig nodded, taking the subject back to Otto. "He seemed somewhat frightened that you would punish him; perhaps that is in our favor."

Heinrich agreed, sighing again. "Pope Gregory has made his latest move; I have just made mine. This is going to escalate soon enough."

Ludwig sensed where this conversation was going and tried to steer the Kaiser back.

"Mein Kaiser?"

"If Otto isn't enough to turn the tide, then I am going to have to take things into my own hands. But rest assured Ludwig, Gregory's hourglass has been turned for the last time."

Ludwig took that as his cue to exit, now leaving the Kaiser alone with the fire, which continued to cast shadows across his face.

[Kagemusha]

Imperial Diet, Frankfurt 1140 AD

Dietrich sat down after thanking Sigismund for his services to the reich,drank from his glass of red wine and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief that had the Franconian coat of arms sewed on it.
No one saw that the red liquid that Dietrich had wiped of from his lips was not wine, but blood. He had bited his lip painfully after "thanking" the now retired Chancellor, in order to cover his real feelings towards the man.
"Great services to the Reich. Great services indeed." Dietrich thought.

While Sigismund had declared publicly to support Dietrich´s Franconians in the war against the Polish, in reality the case was far from that. It was true that the Chancellor had given funds for Dietrich to hire some mercenaries, but after he got reports from his Counts in Stettin and Hamburg, Friedrich had been so furious that he had broken his writing table in the camp around Magdeburg.

"That man is nothing but a snake and powermonger. While declaring his support for my arms in Diet he ordered to disband many of our forces in Stettin,including archers. Archers that Dietrich needed badly against the Polish cavalry forces. Also he send me reinforcements from my castles allright. whole 41 spearmen, who cant even break through from small army of rebels that have gathered behind the Franconian main army. Also while he could have sent Count Von Hamburg straght to me. He decided to move him into Stettin."

Dietrich stared at Sigismund,who was just giving speech, how he would be ready to smite the French and that there was no personal ambitions behind his plans to start offensive war,when Reich was already in war with 3 countries.
"I cant believe how Prinz Henry can tolerate that man. He undermines Henry in every occasion possible and still Henry acts like nothing has happened. I respect our Prinz and maybe he is just thinking of the larger picture, but if i were him i would move Sigismund somewhere,where he wouldnt be causing constant trouble with his schemes."

Dietrich looked around the room,wieving who was present and who not. Untill stopping his eyes to Kaiser Heinrich.

"Kaiser still acts like i wouldnt be even here. I cant understand how long the old warhorse can hold grudge against me. He hasnt even seen his grand daughter, which have made my wife sick of sorrow. Well it seems that i cant do anything to change the situation for now and im more then sure that, Heinrich will not do anything to help the situation either."

Dietrich turned his eyes back towards Sigismund again and thought:

"Well i will not speak one word about that snake and his traitorous acts,sabotaging my forces. I will let him have his moment now. Im sure that eventually he will trip on his own power hungry plans"

Dietrich turned to his clerk and adressed him like he had been just bored of the deliberations that were going on.

"Clerk, what the nobles are saying? I think i drank few too many ale´s last night,so i cant keep up with the squabling."

[Warluster]

Near Dijon, 1140

Jobst Von Salza stood on the mountain range, dividing Bern and Dijon. The air whistled softly by, rustling the world. All manners of creatures crawled around, the sun peeked from behind lcouds in that glorious afternoon. Jobst heard a crackling of stone and foot, as the stones protested to the manner of foot. it was his Trusted Knight, the leader of jobst's bodyguard unit. He wore full army, and his helm was lifted back to show brown hair and blue eyes. He walked up beside Jobst, who was lookign out again. Thye stood on the highest mountain in the region, clouds barely touched there heads, and they could see far and wide. To the north they could see forests and froests, then mountains covering the horizon, like giants of old. Behind that would be the Great city of Metz. To there west they could see plains, and a river winding slolwy through the area, then France. Also there lay the Greta ALmighty Castle of Dijon. Jobst Von Salza sighed,
'isn't it beautiful?' he asked, sounding as if he was asking himself. he was obviously talking of the city.
'Yes Sir, a very fine city and one of the best in Swabia, although not the best' said The knight in a Afterthought. Jobst paid no thought to his words, and stared around the valleys and plains.
'This is Swabia, and its people, I shall forever be held to it' said Jobst. The Knight nodded, it was indeed a beautiful land, and had not yet been touched by recent war. Jobst Von Salza pointed East.
'There lays The Empire, the Roman Empire, the Holy Roman Empire. ' Jobst's brow thickened into thought ' Also East lies the city of Bern' The knight looked east as well, and saw mountain upon moutain, and a winding road leading through a valley, which was thousands of years old. The Knight nodded, he looked at Dijon again, then his gaze slowly went south until he saw smoke tunneling into the air, and a collection of dots. He let a gasp of suprise him, and Jobst's head swiveled slowly to where the Knight was looking, Jobst nodded,
'The worst part of the landscape' Jobst spat,
'That is where two armies of vile French camp, ready to attack Dijon. I was waiting for the moment your view tunred there, as we are to have blood on our hands soon' said Jobst, The knight looked at Jobst Von Salza, awed by his leaders words,
'Recently the House of Austria has been under attack again and again by the Vile veneatians, as you know' said Jobst, the Knight nodded,
'I know of that sir, but that is at Austria, not Swabia' exclaimed the Knight,
Jobst nodded, waving his hand vaguely,
'yes,yes. But! They have been searching for a Commander or General to fill in there ranks, to help defend Vienna and Austria' said Jobst,
'Our great Prinz Henri, Duke of Swabia, has said to me, "Austria is lookign for another General, we have no spare generla sof now. I am dealing with matters, Count Sigismund had his own city to deal with" says The Great prinz, athen he goes on,"I wonder if you would like to help defend Vienna and help Austria" he asks, this offer seemed good enough, i wad eager for battle, thoughi hate killing innocent. I was to accept, when he coughs and goes on,
"If you were willign I could also make you a Count, of either Dijon or bern" Alas! those words have clamped my mind! Alas! i was ready to leave! TO Austria! bah!' said jobst, the knight thought on hsi words and then said,
'What happened sir? Are you to Austria?' asked The Knight. Jobst shook his head,
'A message came through that Duke leopold had chosen another General' said Jobst, dissappointed,
'DOes thta mean you do not get a option of controlling bern or Dijon?' asked the General, jobst shook his head,
'Wait wait, then another messga earrives from Prinz Henri it said "Cause of your quick and swift words of acceptance, and our need of controlled cities, you may become a Count of either bern or Dijon" said the message, i was overjoyed! After hours of long discussion with the Prinz, we came to the conclusion of this- I am now a Count of Dijon' said Jobst Von Salza proudly,
' That means you control the actiopns of Dijon?' asked The knight,
'More then that, I am the city, I chose what buildings, I defend it, I am the Lord of Dijon!' cried Count Salza, the knight cried out in Congrats. but his face soured,
'Sir? What of your army?' asked The knight,
I shall keep it to defend Dijon of course!' said Count Jobst,
'I am overjoyed sir! I shall tell the army at once!' said The knight, he also looked happy. Count Jobst put a hand on The knights Shoulder,
'theres one more bit. The French are to attack Dijon, we are the defenders' said Count Jobst,
'Excellent sir! our first Town Siege! Though we are the defenders, that matters not' said The knight, who rushed away, to the area where the army ws, high in the Roman Mountains. Jobst sighed and looked onto the City which was his. He was Now Count Of Dijon. Count Jobst Von Salza of Dijon.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Deutsches Historisches Museum, Berlin, 2007

The translation of a recently-unearthed piece of the Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich's diary has just been completed by several leading historians. The paper is in moderate condition, being yellowed with age and several words having faded long ago. However, it is still readable for the most part, and preparations are underway to display it in the museum after a short restoration process.

The text reads, more or less, as follows:

Frankfurt, 1140

I am on my way back to Milan, and possibly Florence after this disaster of a Diet session. Ludwig tells me I should spend more time in the capital, to enjoy the large palace that was built for my comfort. Personally, I can't wait to get out of here. It seems every time I set foot in here I am reminded that my authority is slipping more and more. Right now I have just lost an election for Chancellorship to a man who changes his views like the wind and is widely rumored to be a puppet of a nun. However, the Diet believes that this type of man is still a better choice to be Chancellor than their Kaiser.

What is worse is that I am not even sure if the Diet is aware that they are dealing me this large of a rebuke. They do not even consciously challenge me anymore. I suspect that my loss has less to do with my departing from the majority opinion than to foolish reasons like prior promises. This is ridiculous.

I am particularly displeased with the House of Swabia. Sigismund der Stolze or whatever he calls himself now was, I thought, an ally. He told me that he intended to support my push for Chancellor before the session had begun, yet he votes for Mandorf for some idiotic reason of a prior commitment. Likewise with Prinz Henry. Absurd. It seems as if my son is shaping up to be a royal coward. If he disagrees with my ideas he should at least make it known; then I would think better of him! At least von Saxony was up front with me about why he was voting for Mandorf.

And now it seems as if I will have to take the Prinz into battle with me when I am to relieve my beloved Florence from the Milanese. Perhaps making his escort shock cavalry and placing him in danger will scare him straight and make a man out of him. Or maybe it will be easier if I just give him a heart-to-heart talk. Nah, maybe when the battle's done.

I fear for the Reich's future. Henry needs to become much more forceful, one way or another, or otherwise he will become nothing but a pawn of the Dukes.

I am most concerned about one more Italian objective - Rome. That city has plagued me for many years now and it is nearly gone from my grasp. Pope Gregory is laughing silently now that he has the Chancellor and Diet in his pocket. My honor must be redeemed, even if it makes me a pariah in the Reich. In due time, long after I am dead and residing in the Kingdom of Heaven, future generations will come to realize the wisdom of bringing Rome back into the fold and curbing the Papacy once and for all.

Unfortunately, time is running out. I am fifty-five and feel much older. The Diet is seemingly united against me, although they lack the will to say it directly to my person. I must be forceful, extremely forceful if

The entry ends abruptly there. The next page has not been recovered.

*note* Due to the document's age, an exact translation cannot be guaranteed. This represents the best effort of several medieval historians, however, accuracy may be lacking, especially in the later half of the entry, in which the condition is much poorer than the earlier half.

[OverKnight]

Bologna, 1140

Otto von Kassel drank deeply from the bottle of wine. It was a terrible vintage, the taste of sour grapes in his mouth was sickening. Still, Otto did not care, the goal was to numb the pain, not to please his palette. Finishing the bottle, he threw it violently against the stone wall of his bed chamber. Shards of glass scattered as Otto lurched from his seat and began pacing.

The towers of Venice were in sight and I had enough men to seize the city, thought Otto, yet I was recalled, stripped of my command, most of my army sent south with the Prinz and now I rot behind city walls. Walls that still have a gaping hole in them!

Otto choked back a hysterical laugh and stumbled to the window. Looking north he thought back to the last Diet session. I failed utterly! I could not keep my end of the deal with the Kaiser and I offended both the Prinz and the new Chancellor over the issue of Venice. They prattle on about honor and Christian virtue, but they don't want to hear about the stark realities of war. They didn't complain when I sacked Bern or Milan, 'good Christian' lives were lost there as well, but God forbid someone offend their sensibilities with plain talk! Maximillian, the mercurial bastard, doesn't trust me anymore, I backed the wrong horse, and now someone else will take Venice. I probably didn't flog myself and pray enough for the Steward's new taste!

Otto staggered over to the bureau to open another bottle. Taking a deep swig, he stared into the bronze mirror that hung on the wall in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face guant and his clothes and hair in disarray.

"The Chancellorship will most likely be yours for the taking, Mein Kaiser", Otto said to his reflection. He spoke in a slurred mockery of the cultured tone he used in the Diet and in conversations with the mighty.

"My arse it will!", he continued in the more rustic language he used on the battlefield, "Maybe if your Lordship actually spoke up in your own defense, deigned to mingle with the small folk, you wouldn't have been crushed by Mandorf! Why the Hell did I ever listen to you!? I should have stayed a Count, but I sold my soul for the promise of a royal wife and a title. That's probably gone now too. I've managed to piss away everything!"

Taking another pull on the bottle, Otto stumbled over to the bed and collapsed onto it. The open bottle fell from his grasp and hit the floor with a thud. It slowly rolled away, spilling red wine.

Otto turned over on his back and watched the ceiling spin above him. Self-pity slowly gave way to analysis. Why had the Kaiser been so silent during the Diet session and after his loss? I expected more sturm und drang from him after such a horrible defeat. God's Blood, I expected him to give me Holy Hell for my failure! Yet the Kaiser calmly gave his build orders and left.

Otto sat up in bed, swaying a bit, but with some returned focus, and spoke out loud, "He must be plotting something."

A terrible thought occurred to Otto, and that is when he leaned over the bed and began to vomit.

After the dry heaves had passed, Otto slowly made his way back to the bureau. Rifling through his scattered papers, he came upon his copy of the Reich's Charter. Paging through it, he found what he had been looking for.

"Mein Gott!", exclaimed Otto, dropping the papers, "It might work!"

The question, thought Otto looking into the mirror, Is what should I do about it?

Below him, on the floor, the Charter became soaked in wine, turning it blood red.