Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[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

[OverKnight]

Bridge over the Morava River, 1174

The 240 mailed and Teutonic knights had just encamped near the western end of the bridge when a sentry gave warning, riders were coming from the east. Captain Lucas, the new commander of the detachment, looked past the bridge. Apprehension filled him, had the Hungarians already gotten their scent? Squinting at the banners of the incoming horsemen, he made out the gold eagle of the Reich and relief filled him. However, when he saw the standard of Bavaria next to the Imperial arms, anxiety sprang up again. He remembered the same standard when he had left the Crusade with Captain Adalberth and the others to go to Zagreb and bring the son of Kaiser Henry back to the army. That had been four years ago.

As the Bavarians galloped into the camp, a horseman made his way to Lucas. "Where is Adalberth?!", growled the man looking about, "I want to. . .talk to him!"

Lucas noticed the vivid scar winding down the right side of the rider's face. He knew now who this was, and began to wish the Hungarians had found him first.

"Duke von Kassel, what an honor. . .umm Adalberth has left the order to serve Count Hans. I am Sir Lucas, I was Adalberth's second, I command here now."

The horseman's gaze fell on Lucas, "Indeed? That would explain a great deal. Tell me Captain, is the boy here with you?"

Looking up, Lucas swallowed hard, "No my lord, he decided to stay for the assault on Budapest."

Otto's eyes narrowed and he swore loudly, "A pity, I wished to meet the Princeling, we have much to. . .discuss. So Captain, let me see if I understand, you and your men, a sworn brotherhood, failed to return to the Crusade and now that you have, you failed to bring the boy with you. Is that correct?"

"Your grace, Adalberth felt that the safety of Count Hans was paramount. . .he did not wish to go on the Crusade so. . ."

Otto cut off Lucas, "God's Blood! Then you brain him with the hilt of your sword, throw him over the saddle like a sack of wheat and follow your damn orders! Do you know the difficulties your tour of the Reich has caused the Crusade?! Here are 120 Teutonic Knights, the fiercest horsemen of the Reich, hundreds of miles away from the Kaiser's army, which lacks a cavalry screen while surrounded by Magyars!"

Lucas shrunk from Otto's onslaught, but managed to speak, "Hundreds of miles? The army hasn't come to meet us!? How are we to get to them?"

Otto leaned in over Lucas from the saddle while chuckling darkly, "By this time, Brother Lucas, the Crusade is in Thessaly. The Kaiser thought as you did and it took all my influence to convince the Council to follow my plan. I will not have our holy endeavor slowed by stragglers. They will continue on, and we will catch up. I have ways to motivate your men to great speed."

Otto glanced around the camp, "Get your men mounted, we leave as soon as they're ready."

Lucas's mouth dropped open, "But my lord, we just made camp, it will be night soon."

Otto's jaw clenched and he spoke harshly, "Get your men ready Lucas, or I will find someone who can. The path back to the Crusade is dangerous, and we will be travelling under cover of darkness to avoid our enemies. There is no more time for delay. If you can follow a teenager and whatever minstrel's tale he fogged your minds with, than you will most certainly do as I say."

With that the Duke of Bavaria reined in his horse and began trotting through the camp yelling orders.

Lucas, wishing he had remained in Budapest, went to gather his gear.

[GeneralHankerchief]

(OOC: This is a backstory of sorts to Conrad Salier, as well as an explanation to why he was absent in the Diet for such a long period of time. Written by TinCow and myself.)

Genoa, 1160

Conrad Salier, a young squire of Bavaria and member of Chancellor Maximillian Mandorf's escort, was travelling along with the rest of the men to Rome in order to attend the upcoming Imperial Diet session. This would most likely be the last Diet for Mandorf, who would be embarking upon a Crusade to Jerusalem along with several other esteemed Electors. Their stay in Genoa was just a rest stop, but it was an important one nonetheless. The city had become something of a target for pilgrims ever since Kaiser Heinrich had slaughtered Pope Gregory here six years before.

Young Salier was a deeply religious man and the recent actions taken by the Kaiser and his Duke, Otto von Kassel, had torn him inside between duty to Nation and duty to God. In this time, he also observed that Mandorf seemed to be experiencing the physical strain of managing the Reich as well as his own emotions. When Mandorf attended one of the many secret funerals for the late Pope, he seemed ready to crack and go mad at the end of it.

Thank you, Lord, for seeing fit to see Count Maximillian's Chancellorship through without any serious personal harm. Now that he is focused on one singular goal I believe that he - and I - may be able to serve you better.

Aside from attending Mass regularly, like a good Christian, Salier prayed alone regularly. After all, if he did not gain direction and guidance from God, then the only other options were those who could have been tainted by Satan.

Outside of Conrad's room for the night, another one of Mandorf's entourage knocked on the door. Conrad opened it and smiled. Staring at him was a friend, Sergeant Wolfgang.

"The Chancellor wishes to speak to you alone, Conrad."

Salier was a bit surprised. What could the Chancellor possibly want?

After being led down a series of hallways, Conrad and the others arrived at Maximillian Mandorf's study. The place's decoration could only be described as Spartan. The walls were sparsely adorned with crucifixes, and the chairs were straight-backed with absolutely no leeway. Two bookcases were present; one contained military material, maps, books on tactics and the like. The other held many works on Christianity, including several Bibles.

Mandorf was sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs, holding a map of Italy. When he looked up and saw that Conrad had arrived, and smiled. A motion of his hand dismissed his escort; it was now only he and Conrad.

"Welcome, Conrad Salier. Please have a seat."

Conrad did as he was told and sat in one of the chairs.

"I must ask you some questions that are rather more personal than polite conversation between gentlemen would allow. I apologize in advance if this causes you any offense. It is not my wish to pry, but I will be departing the Reich soon with the Crusade and I may never return. I simply must know these answers before I go. Where did you grow up?"

"Do not worry, Lord Mandorf," said Conrad. "I forgive you for asking. I wish I could say that I grew up in a noble house, surrounded by loving parents and lots of siblings, but that was not the case. Unfortunately, I never knew my family." Conrad did not seem uncomfortable in the least, as if he readily accepted this fact. "I was raised by the nuns, in an abbey in the mountains west of Nuremburg."

"I see," said Mandorf. "Did the ever speak about your parents?"

Conrad once again answered with little sign of discomfort. "The nuns discouraged me from discussing such affairs. They said that my parentage was unimportant, and that I was now to be a Child of God. Like a good, obedient child I did not pursue the matter."

Mandorf sat back, sighing and studying his young subject carefully. After several seconds, he spoke again. "Did anyone ever taken an unexpected interest in you when you were young? Perhaps a traveling priest who visited more often than he should? Perhaps a generous benefactor who aided you for no discernible reason? Has anyone ever asked you about your mother and father?" Mandorf smirked. "Well, other than me of course."

Finally Conrad was starting to show signs that he was thinking that this was a particularly odd conversation. Why was Mandorf asking him this? But still, he acted like a good Bavarian and answered his lord.

"Now that you mention it, Cardinal Otterbach, back when he was Father Otterbach, visited here a lot in between his Stettin Mission and other assignments. However, on the occasions that he did visit, we barely saw each other. It was almost as if he was avoiding me. It is strange that you ask me these things. When I came of age the nuns took me to a room that I had never been in before. Inside was a large pile of money that they said was mine to use for whatever purpose I wished. I had always found the military exploits of Kaiser Heinrich, Dietrich von Saxony, and the other great generals of the Reich fascinating so I bought some armor, learned how to fight, and joined up with you. I believe that the nuns were saddened to see me go yet for some reason knew that I would follow the path that I did. It's quite odd, really, but I never questioned it."

At the mention of Cardinal Otterbach's name, Mandorf glanced away sharply. He listened to Conrad's words, but was clearly deep in thought. Several long moments of uncomfortable silence passed before Mandorf spoke again.

"You are a good man, Conrad. I can see it in your face. You have a purity of spirit and a sense of purpose that most in this world lack. Yes. You are a true servant of Christ and a defender of Christendom."

Mandorf turned and looked Conrad Salier directly in the eye.

"I am proud to be your father."

It took several seconds for Conrad to grasp what had just been said. Finally, it clicked. My... what?

This could not be true. Maximillian Mandorf was a defender of Christendom, and a celebate one at that! There was no way... it was impossible...

Yet, at the same time, Conrad knew that Mandorf would not have summoned him to his study to make jokes. Suddenly sick to his stomach, he waited for his father to say more.

"I did not know for certain that this was true until our conversation today, but I have suspected it for several years. I regret not pursuing the matter further at an earlier stage in my life, but your heritage is a... difficult... subject for me. I have not always been the pious servant of Christ that I am now. In my youth I was corrupt and immoral. Yet, it seems now that even those proclivities may have had a higher purpose."

Mandorf smiled and nodded, unaware of Conrad's sudden nausea.

"Yes, it seems the Lord works in mysterious ways."

Conrad bored his eyes into the floor. This is not the conversation that he had in mind.

"You know," he said, not making eye contact with anything aside from the floor, I never asked about my parents, but I was still always curious. I figured that they were just some poor peasants that couldn't support me and had no choice but to give me up. I figured that the money was nothing but the generosity of the nuns."

Conrad finally looked up, staring his father in the face.

"But you, you were different! You had the means to keep me! You abandoned me! Whatever happened to 'Behold, children are a blessing from the Lord'? You keep me in the dark for all of these years, and now you finally tell me, now! Days before you leave the Reich forever! What am I supposed to say to that?!"

During Conrad's (deserved) tirade, Mandorf's smile had gradually been replaced by a look of sympathy. He tried to interrupt, but Conrad wasn't done.

"Tell me, are you even aware of who my mother is? Or were you just so full of concubines back before Hildegard came and saved your soul that you only have the choices narrowed down to five?!"

Mandorf's look of sympathy vanished and his face clouded.

"I am perfectly aware of who your mother is, as is she. However, that is not for me to say. Your mother has kept her identity hidden from you throughout your life for good reasons. She has sought to protect herself, but she has also protected you. If your parentage were to become public knowledge, it could destroy you both."

Conrad looked at Mandorf in disgust. It was only through his many years of training in the abbey that he managed not to do anything more.

"I said before that I was always curious about who my parents were," he said in a monotone. "Now, I wish I didn't know. I realize that this happened before you were saved, and I am not mad about that, but to know for all those years and not tell me! Even if you only had an inkling, you could have at least expanded upon it."

Mandorf sighed, sensing that the conversation was wrapping up.

"I regret that this relationship has begun when I am on the verge of departing for the Land of Christ. It is fitting penance for my past sins that I leave behind the only family I will ever have in order to serve the Lord. I will write to you while on Crusade, but I doubt it I shall live long enough to see the Reich again. Before I go, I would like to publicly acknowledge my parentage of you. You are a nobleman of true Bavarian blood, highborn in right as well as character. I hereby adopt you as my true son and heir and name you as the successor to my estates in Nuremburg. When I die, you shall inherit my titles and lands. If you have already earned your own by that point, you may choose how to dispose of Nuremburg for yourself. If Duke von Kassel permits it though, I would greatly wish for you to rule over Nuremburg after I am gone, and in turn to pass it down to your children. Nothing would make me happier than to be entombed in a great Cathedral in Nuremburg, with pious Christians of my blood forever protecting the city."

Conrad, finally calmed down, addressed Mandorf. "I sincerely wish that you complete your task and absolve yourself as well as the Reich while Crusading," he said. "In the meantime, I shall abide by your wishes pertaining to Nuremburg. I will try to be a better son to you than you were a father to me. Goodbye, Father, and good luck."

Both men got up to leave. As Mandorf departed, he turned to his son one last time, a grave look on his face.

"Beware of involvement with Kaiser Heinrich and the Papal conflict. There are things at work here that are greater than you know. If you find yourself leading an army against a Pope, especially a German Pope, you risk eternal damnation."

Mandorf bowed low, and then strode off. It was the last time Conrad Salier would ever see his father.

[GeneralHankerchief]

A monastery east of Milan, 1170

Conrad Salier arose from his bed very early in the morning, at the same time he had done nearly every day for the past ten years. His life was one of ritual and habit ever since that fateful night in 1160, when he was informed that his father was Maximillian Mandorf by Mandorf himself. While he had managed to keep his composure through that unpleasant conversation, the next few days were one large downward spiral.

Although by right he was a Bavarian Elector, he had skipped the Diet session, opting instead to hole himself up in several churches in Genoa and taking many long walks in the hills outside of the city. He missed the passage of all of the Electors heading north after the session had concluded, including the Crusaders. He was unaware of much during that time, with the thoughts of “MANDORF IS MY FATHER” being drilled into his brain constantly.

Eventually, he departed the city, mumbling and reciting old prayers. He trekked the northern part of the Italian Peninsula on foot, carrying no possessions aside from the clothes on his back and his Bible. He walked for days on end, barely stopping for food, water, or sleep. After forty days, he finally collapsed under the Italian sun, starving and incoherent. He was within sight of a large, ornate building, but at that point Conrad was in such bad shape that he assumed it was just a mountain.

Luckily, that building happened to be a monastery, and he was nursed back to health under the care of the monks that resided there. After some time, he decided to join them. The world out there is too complicated and too corrupted, he said to himself as justification. I am more likely to be a good Servant of God if I leave that world behind. And for ten years, he did.

Today, however, things were to be different. As he made his way down to the chapel for Lauds, he noticed that the monks were a bit more animated than usual. Apparently, someone of importance had arrived during the night. Once he had taken his seat, Conrad scoured the pews for a new face, but the only one he was not used to seeing seated was the abbot himself. A figure in fancy white robes had taken the pulpit in his place. Conrad made out the “guest preacher” to be Cardinal Charles Otterbach.

During the sermon, Conrad took an eager interest in the man who was nearly Pope. For once, the Cardinal seemed to be speaking with power and conviction, as compared to the other occasions Conrad had seen him preach, when he seemed nervous and not quite focused on the sermon. This time, however, Otterbach was eloquent and convincing. In addition, the Cardinal seemed to be staring right at Conrad for most of the time, as if the mass delivered was specifically aimed at him.

After the mass let out, Conrad was walking alone in a hallway to his study, when the Cardinal came out of nowhere and spoke to the surprised monk.

“Brother Conrad,” he said, “What did you think of the sermon?”

“It was excellent, Your Eminence,” Conrad said respectfully. “I must admit that it is refreshing to hear a different take on Scripture than the Abbot’s version.”

Otterbach laughed. “I regret that this is the only time you will hear a fresh voice at mass, at least, coming from my mouth. I am returning to the heartland of the Reich after my time in Rome, a short but eventful stay.” The Cardinal was referring to his giving Last Rites to Kaiser Heinrich and then the disastrous Papal election three hours later. “My time here was only an overnight stay. However, before I leave this place, I would be honored to hear your confession.”

Conrad gave the Cardinal a sad smile. “I am afraid you are out of luck, Cardinal. I gave it just last night, did my penance, and went right to sleep. The first things I have done since waking up were preparing for and attending Lauds, and now talking to you. I do not believe that I have sinned at all since I last confessed.”

Otterbach arched an eyebrow at this last comment. “Indeed? And there are no sins, older sins, that you have forgotten to mention in past confessions?”

“If there are, I am not aware of them. I have no reason to compromise my chances of eternal salvation.”

“I maintain that there have been things that you have forgotten. Every moment you spend in this place is a sin, Brother Conrad. Walk with me.” Conrad, slightly befuddled that a Cardinal, especially one so revered as Otterbach, would be denouncing a monastery, had no choice but to follow along.

“Conrad, Kaiser Heinrich is dead. The new Kaiser, Henry, is off on a Crusade along with much of the Reich’s senior leaders. Heinrich’s preferred choice of Pope, myself, did not win the Seat, so we are faced with a hostile Pope and almost no chance of reconciliation unless an Imperial Cardinal somehow manages to win. The four Houses, depleted both in manpower and leadership thanks to the Crusade, are being invaded by Venice, Poland, France, Milan, England, and Hungary. The last country is especially a threat. If they get past the Bavarian Household Army, then any Imperial city in Italy is ripe for the taking.”

All of this news had troubled Conrad. This is exactly what he wanted to leave behind. “Your Eminence, why are you telling me of all this? I, along with you, have left the material world behind.”

“Brother Conrad, I learned long ago not to restrict myself to spiritual matters,” said Otterbach smartly. “You are qualified to assist the Reich in these hard times, both by blood and by merit. But you ran here to shut yourself away forever the first time you heard something that you did not like.”

Conrad’s mood shifted from troubled to annoyed. “Cardinal Otterbach, with all due respect, you do not know what was said, how it affected-“

Otterbach cut the young monk off. “With all due respect, Brother Conrad, I know exactly what was said. Maximillian Mandorf told me when I traveled to Zagreb to give the Crusaders my blessing.”

Maximillian Mandorf. The mention of that name brought back the whirlwind of the old memories. His Spartan study. The ever-present smile on his face when he casually told Conrad the most sensitive thing possible. Those forty days wandering through Italy, half-insane.

Otterbach, either unaware of Conrad’s emotions or uncaring, continued. “He told me that he was acknowledging his parentage of you. He told me that he made you his heir. He told me that he was giving you a position in the Diet and his titles in Nuremburg! Why can you not accept who you are and take a position in the Reich’s nobility?”

Conrad, defiant, responded with a phrase that he had used to reassure himself that what he had done was right. “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” he said, using the same reading of Matthew that the late Cardinal Peter Scherer had used in Sigismund der Stolze’s funereal.

Otterbach seemed mildly amused. “Honor thy mother and thy father,” he fired back. “Don’t even try to win an argument against a Cardinal by quoting Scripture.”

Conrad, defeated, tried one last defense. “But I choose to have this life! I want nothing of the Reich or Nuremburg. All I wish to do is remain here in solitude.”

“Then that, Brother Conrad, is a sin. You may not realize it now, but you are being extremely selfish by remaining here. There are other ways that you can be a good Servant of God aside from staying in this place and watching your life waste away for nothing. I will have no more of this. Your penance is to leave this monastery immediately. I will inform the Abbot of your departure. You are to go to the Diet, introduce yourself, and apologize for your ten-year absence. Once that has been accomplished, you are to join Gerhard Steffin and the Bavarian Household Army, and assist them in the task of driving off the Hungarian invaders. Do you understand me?”

Conrad looked at the Cardinal with a sigh. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

Otterbach smiled. “Good, my son. May the rest of your life be fulfilling in more ways than one, Conrad Salier.”

Two hours later, Conrad Salier mounted an old brown horse and departed the monastery for the first time in ten years, heading south. He was finally ready to live up to his identity.

[OverKnight]

East Anglia, England, 1182

Cardinal Aston, called the Righteous, shivered in his private chambers. This winter was particularly harsh, or perhaps his age, 60, caused him to feel that way. The Cardinal stared at the letter before him, the man who had written him had quite the dark name among the priests of Europe.

Yet the offer was tempting, the schism between the Empire and Church had lasted longer than anyone had foreseen. Aston had heard that the the new Chancellor, the man who had written the letter before him, had made a massive offer for peace to the Pope. Yet it had been rejected. Aston wondered why Florence and 10,000 florins had been cast aside by the Holy Father. Still Aston had never understood Domingo when they were in the College of Cardinals together. He hated to admit it, but Aston had suffered from the sin of envy when the younger man had been elevated.

Before him on the table lay a way he could be the Pope. An offer that he should refuse out of hand, yet the current Pontiff was harming the Church by his stubbornness. The Empire was on a self-proclaimed Crusade to the Holy Land and had shown a willingness for atonement. The Kaiser himself had been found innocent of heresy by the Inquisition when he was a prince, and Aston had heard rumors that Henry had mourned Pope Gregory and assisted in his burial. Having defied the late Kaiser like that, the English Cardinal wondered if the sins of the father should be visited on the son. This should be considered.

Making a decision, the Cardinal called for ink and paper.


West of Hamburg

Captain Humphrey shook Wilhelmus Becker's hand.

"To be honest good sir, I had not thought an alliance to be possible. Until, of course, I received the letter from the King and the Cardinal. The florins don't hurt either I suppose."

Becker smiled, "Florins always help negotiations, Captain. But so does mutual need and the recognition of that fact. I wish you luck against the Danes."


Rome

Conrad Salier shook his head. Why was he being ordered by the Chancellor to oversee the building of a watchtower on the coast of Italy? The letter mentioned a need to keep an eye on the Milanese, but Conrad wasn't convinced. Something odd was going on. Still, orders were orders.

Only after the Count of Milan had left the city, did the Chancellor's messenger hand a second letter over to Captain Friedrich, the man left in charge of the Garrison. It was an order he had been expecting, yet Friedrich had no enthusiasm for it. Sighing, he began to issue orders for the troops to assemble.


South of Rome

The camp of Pope Filippus was centered around a small village church, which was now the seat of his Holiness. A guard ran into the church seeking the Pontiff.

"My lord, the sentries have spotted Imperial banners."

The Pope turned from his prayers, "They come to negotiate again? How long will it take those apostates to realise they must return Rome to me? Yet they mewl about Florence and florins. Once the Princes of Europe heed my call for a Crusade, then we will see them beg!"

Exiting the church, the Pope turned his gaze north, looking for the Imperial envoys.

There were banners, but behind them rose a large dust cloud raised by the marching of many men. The Reich had negotiated with the Pope for the last time.


Anatolia, East of the Hellespont

Chancellor Otto von Kassel stared into the flames of the camp fire. His plan was in motion, all that was left to do was to await damnation if he was wrong, or salvation if he was right. It was the greatest risk he had ever taken in his life. Only time would tell if it would succeed.

[Kagemusha]

Near Hellespontos 1182

Dietrich´s day was saved.Few letters from home had arrived and he was sitting on a rock and trying to read carefully. His eyesight wasnt what it was used to be and water filled his eyes as he tryed to make out the letters from the pergament. He tryed to to bring the letter closer to his eyes,but the letters remained blurry. For a moment he stared at the letter and hoped that his eyes could focus better,but to no avail.

He dropped the letters to his lap and scratched his head for a while.After that he raised his head and looking at the distance thought.

"Here i am in the middle of nowhere trying to read the news from home and cant even succeed in that simple task".

To Dietrich these letters were even more important then others, becouse he didnt receive too many these days to begin with. At the vanguard army of the crusade were besides him Count Von Mandorf and knight Von Mahren. While Mandorf had been busy with Reich´s politics and was constantly in contact towards home,the affairs of the two Franconians were something completely different. Dietrich had retired from public life and had even rejected to read some letters,becouse of their political nature. Mandorf had been thoughtfull and tryed to avoid discussing any topics concerning Reich and Dietrich had started to think that Mandorf might even be thinking that he had become bit wierd or atleast turning little bit senile.
Knight Von Mahrens actions didnt help much in that,since the young knight had isolated himself almost completely from others and spent most of his time alone wondering around the crusade,sometimes hunting,sometimes just riding around alone.

"Im sure that Mandorf thinks now that we Franconians are grazy. Old fool and young man who is acting like already dead man."

The decision to withdraw from public life and go to crusade at his advanced age hadnt been an easy one for Dietrich. Basicly no one had been happy about it. Not his political allies like Leopold,his counts,his wife and least his daughter. Grim smile passed on Dietrichs face when he remembered his wifes reaction about his decision.

"You fool! You stupid old kinight!How dare you abandon your family and Duchy and go to some quest when you dont even have a chance to reach its target!Abandoning your fragile wife and daughter who love you the most in this god forsaken world!"

Dietrich could easily still remember how furious Agnes had been before bursting into tears.It was easy to regognice who´s daughter she was.

"How much i miss them. I could give up my life for seeing my family even once more before the end."

Dietrich knew deep down that the worse thing about this crusade was that in matter of fact he wasnt even himself happy about beeing part of it.What was here for him in this journey? Salvation? Salvation from the sins committed by the old blood hound Kaiser?

"God have mercy on his soul in hell."

The old warhorse had really got us into trouble.Trouble so deep that even now that Henry was the Kaiser,it was like the old Kaiser´s ghost was still haunting the Reich and casting a shadow on Henry´s reign,becouse of the magnitude of the deed´s done by the old Kaiser. Dietrich was sure that those troubles would surely outlive Dietrich himself easily.

Dietrich woke up from his thoughts as his personal scribe adressed him.

"Sire, would you like to give answers to the new letters?"

Dietrich responded.

"Answer,yes answers. My good man i need you to read these letters so i can give answers, becouse without knowing the questions it is hard to answer them."

Scribe read the letters to Dietrich. One was from his wife and two others were from Steward Von Kastillien and Count Von Hamburg. Agnes had wrote a long letter about things at home.About Hedewigis,how she was growing up and how they both missed him. For Dietrich each of his wife´s letters felt heart braking and comforting at the same time. He knew that Agnes would take care of everything,but also the sorrow for beeing apart from her and Hedewigis made the old knight feel each time even older.
The letters from the steward and Count Hamburg were not good news.

Franconia was struggling to survive. Enemies harassed her now more then ever and the internal situation was far from good. As two of the power figures in Franconia had departed on the crusade, Franconia had been left vulnerable and also after a short while it seemed that the adopted brothers,Von Kastillien and Von Hamburg didnt come along too well.
Dietrich knew that the situation was bad and it was his fault that it had gone that way. It was Dietrich´s decision to abandon everything and take the cross. But it was others who suffered from it.
There was always the option to get back into politics,nothing could deny his right to take the leads once more,also there was the possibility to change the Steward,but then the current one would be disgruntled and would be against the politics of the new one.

"This is all my doing and it is my task to solve the situation. I have been avoiding my responsibilities for far too long.I have to do decisions to solve this situation,the sooner the better."

Dietrich nodded to himself and then sayed to the scribe.

"Let us start writing some letters. It seems we have some work to do."