Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

Metz, 1324

Péter von Kastilien was at an interesting crossroads. Having just won a great battle at Metz under the command of Duke Hans of Swabia, who politically he opposed, he knew not what to do next. The self-declared Duke Dietrich von Dassel and Duke Lothar Steffen had suspected him to go fight along with them against Hans. Péter did not wish to fight in a civil war, however much he disliked Hans. He was too loyal to the Reich to desire the death of fellow Germans. There are foreign enemies abroad, and Swabia is concerned with killing each other.

It was time to return to Franconia.

The Kaiser’s camp at the ford east of Acre, 1326


Kaiser Elberhard looked up from his map at the stranger:

“Kachig says you have a proposition for me.”

The stranger bowed: “Sire, I have spoken to the shipwrights in Antioch. We can assemble a large fleet - large enough to transport all surviving Crusaders and their armies back to the Reich. It will not be quick and it will not be cheap. But it is possible.”

Elberhard frowned: “How not quick and how not cheap, precisely?”

“We could assemble the fleet by 1332. But it will take every resource in Outremer to see it done.”

“@#$%^&!!! it!” swore Elberhard under his breath and looked away. The offer re-opened a tension that had been present ever since the start of the cataclysm: whether to stay to protect Outremer or to return to the Reich to reassert his authority.

The Kaiser looked up at the man again: “Thank you … what is your name again?”

“Gustav Peters, Sire …explorer.”

“Good work, Peters, good work. I need to discuss your proposition. Wait in the camp. It’s going to be a long night.”

*****

Elberhard looked around at his inner circle. At the head was his wife, Linyeve. Next to her stood the veteran English warrior, Sir Charles de Villiers. Sitting relaxed on a stool, was Kachig Iskyan, the Armenian mercenary captain. Jan the Teuton stood upright, as if to attention. Almost in the shadows, lurked Niklas Gruber, his disgraced mentor.

“So, do we stay or do we go?” opened the Kaiser.

All eyes turned to Linyeve.

“We go.” she said simply.

Jan the Teuton turned red: “But to abandon Outremer! It is unthink…”

Linyeve cut him off: “Abandon Outremer or abandon the Reich? Which one is more unthinkable?”

The Empress paused and then began to list the Reich’s current woes. “The Kaiser’s brother is fighting for his life in Swabia. Bavaria has now entered the conflict, using Dietrich as its proxy. The Reich is on the verge of open civil war. With Prague’s secession from Austria, that House may soon also fall into internal warfare. Franconia’s eastern and northern flanks have been ripped open - invading armies of Poles, Danes and Russians are pouring into our heartlands. Byzantium has exterminated Rome and Bologna - the whole of north Italy is open to them. How many more settlements will they wipe out? How can we stay out here, while all that happens in Europe?”

“But Outremer…” protested Jan the Teuton.

The Empress raised her hand demanding for silence. “There is a way we could leave without abandoning Outremer to the Byzantines and the Mohammedans...”

Again, she commanded the attention of all in the room. She nodded at Sir Charles de Villiers and the English veteran warrior spoke hesitantly.

“At the Empress’s request, I made informal soundings to England. It is possible that they would accept the gift of Outremer.”

Linyeve continued: “If my father’s people ruled these lands, perhaps the Byzantines would halt their offensive. Their quarrel is with us for sacking Constantinople. They have no dispute with England. The Mohammedans, well - at the moment, they are killing themselves. The Egyptians are attacking the Turks in the east, so there should be a respite. And we could always return when the Reich is made whole again.”

Elberhard looked frozen with indecision, then broke into a wry smile: “@#$%^&!!! it - I’ve given away Outremer once, why should I blanche at a second time?”

Jan the Teuton looked appalled.

Elberhard turned to him: “Look, we came hear to protect Jerusalem and the Pope. Now Jerusalem and the Pope are trying to kill us! Don’t you think that shows we have outstayed our welcome?”

“About the Papacy, Sire…” a quiet voice spoke up from the shadows.

Heads turned towards Niklas Gruber, the Kaiser’s old mentor.

“While we are still in Outremer, there is one last task that we could perform - one that could only be performed from here.”

Jan the Teuton whistled and swore under his breath, but Niklas continued:

“Regime change: if the Pope were to fall in battle, we still have enough influence in the College of Cardinals to perhaps elect a German as replacement. That may make it easier for the Reich to be reconciled.”

A cold shiver ran through Elberhard and it was as if he could feel the spirit of his grandfather, Heinrich, passing by. He shook his head:

“As usual, there are too many “perhaps” and “maybes” in your advice, Niklas. If we destroy the main Papal army and take Jerusalem, we rob Outremer of a key bastion against the Mohammedans. The Holy City would surely fall when we leave.”

“At least consult Matthias on this.” prompted Linyeve.

The shiver ran through Elberhard again. “Very well.” he said, reluctantly.

“And what of besieged Aleppo?” said Kachig the mercenary Captain, ever practical. “What do we do now?”

Elberhard rubbed his head. Two depleted regiments of sergeants were holding the castle - besieged by two Byzantine armies. A third - an elite Guard army - blocked the path east from the ford. To relieve Aleppo, he would have to cut through all three armies.

“There are scarcely over one hundred men in Aleppo.” said Elberhard firmly. “How many men would we lose to rescue them? And if I lose my army, what is the point of returning to the Reich? I would merely be hostage to the first usurper we encounter on landfall. We cannot save Aleppo.”

Jan the Teuton looked distraught: “Sire, we are abandoning all codes of chivalry! This is not the honourable path!”

“I know, Jan, I know.” Elberhard looked down. ”Perhaps we should challenge the Byzantine Guard army in front of us? We avoided giving battle to them outside Damascus, but now they have put us in an even worse position. Perhaps it was a mistake to let them be? If we survive our encounter with them with sufficient strength, we could continue on to Aleppo and evacuate it.”

Linyeve looked at Elberhard harshly, with disapproval.

The Kaiser caught her glance and started to backtrack: “I must consult with the other Crusader Electors on this. But the principle is decided: we are leaving Outremer.”

Normandy, 1326

Wolfgang wearily mounted his horse as his men prepared for the long march west to Flanders.

"Ah, Herr Hohenburg, what do you think of this latest invasion by the Danes?" he asked his companion.

Sheathing his sword, Conrad sighed before answering, "To be honest, mein prinz, this is becoming draining on the men. We have been marching all over this war ravaged patch of northern France for the last ten years. The men are loyal, but even loyalty begins to be tested at feats like this."

"I am afraid you are right. The men have not seen a battle in years, and one is a soldier to fight, not to see the countryside. However, the Danes ought to provide some action for the men."

Smiling wrly, Conrad replied sarcastically, "Unless they live up to their reputation and sail away."

"I doubt they will do that; they have too much to lose. With von Kastilien's invasion of Sweden, the Danes cannot afford to lose wealthy cities. If they sail away, the way is open to Antwerp. Nein, the Danes will fight, and we must crush them."

"What about von Salza, mein prinz? He may yet prove a thorn in our side."

Wolfgang laughed, "Von Salza's army would crumble against me. Our men are seasoned and blooded, and will not let me down."

Spurring his horse, Wolfgang galloped over to the vanguard, which was led by Gerhard van Ghent, Jan van Ghent's son.

"Heil, Prinz Hummel! It is an honour to see you in such gut spirits." shouted Gerhard.

Wolfgang rode up beside van Ghent, and the two began an earnest discussion.

"Are you serious? Surely that is madness?" exclaimed van Ghent.

"Nein," grinned Wolfgang, "it has the element of suprise, which is vital in times such as these. I think that we might be able to pull it off."

Frankfurt, 1326

Péter lay awake in bed on the eve of battle. Ansehelm has died, he thought. A year after retiring from politics Ansehelm rode off against the Poles and was slain while killing his foes.

This meant Péter was Duke of Franconia; it was a position he never expected to hold, or if he did, only for a few years before he died.

It was a tremendous responsibility - especially during these years of plague and rebellion. He hoped he would bring glory to his Duchy and the Reich.

His plans were clear - to regain lost territory and protect those in danger. He was in command of the Army of Hamburg, which was going to relieve the siege of Frankfurt and then reconquer the city of its namesake. Jan von Hamburg, former King of Outremer, is returning to take up the county he was born in.

His older brother Fritz was in command of the Army of Prussia, which was now situated at Stockholm, waiting to kill the Danish Prince and take the city for the glory of the Reich.

His cousin-in-law, Dieter Bresch, was commanding the Saxon Army and holding up at Magdeburg - he would soon have to move to strike those invading the eastern front of Franconia. Alas, Franconia's sprawling size is its weakness.

His protege, Tancred von Tyrolia (commanding the Army of Brandenburg), was assisting the Austrians to improve relations with the old allies and Duke Arnold. Plus, a united Reich is a protected Reich - sectionalism will cause a house to crumble.

Count Edmund Becker, separated from the House of Austria and married to Péter's old friend Niesenn von Mahren, recently won a great victory against the Poles in Péter's plague-ridden County of Breslau. It was good to know that friends elsewhere can protect you.

Péter was a bit more at ease, and became anxious for battle. He had never fought the Danes before, and his lust nearly drove him mad. He howled into the night, startling the camp.

Jonas, the veteran warrior, overheard him.

"Are you alright, my lord?"

"Yes, Jonas, for tomorrow we conquer!"

Preface: I began writing this piece as a fictional narrative with the usual amount of dramatics and bloodshed. However, I found that I had to include a great deal of historical background information which quickly started to dominate the entire story. So, I have instead abandoned the ‘fictional’ account and turned to a purely ‘historical’ one. I am always fond of turning to actual historical events for motivation and inspiration and this is no exception. This story is occurring in KOTR, but it is an exact replica of an event which occurred in the Bavarian town of Donauwörth in 1606.

In the process of self-edification, I found a very detailed account of the event in an article published in a Cambridge University journal. Rather than butchering the account with my own inferior knowledge, I have instead decided to copy the majority of the factual account from this article. I have changed some of the background information and the dates to correspond with events in KOTR, but the vast majority of the following piece is copied verbatim from the following paper:

Urban Order and Religious Coexistence in the German Imperial City: Augsburg and Donauwörth, 1548–1608, C. Scott Dixon; Conference Group for Central European History of the American Historical Association, Central European History 40 (2007), 1-33.

The complete paper can be found online here and I personally find it very interesting. It also includes a narrative of similar conflicts between Lutherans and Catholics which occurred in Augsburg around the same time. I encourage anyone interested in the history of the Reformation in general, and the origins of the Thirty Years War in particular, to read it.

Donauwörth and the Battle of the Banners

After the fall of Rome in 1318, the greater problems of the Holy Roman Empire began to supersede the growing religious conflict between Catholics and the followers of Alexander Luther. In 1319, many prominent leaders of both groups gathered in the northern Bavarian city of Augsburg to discuss a way to end the civil disorder which was disabling the Reich. After weeks of debate, they eventually agreed to a partitioning of the local lands into Catholic and Lutheran areas. Under the Peace of Augsburg, free practice of both religions was officially sanctioned and local Lords were authorized to divide their lands into Catholic and Lutheran sections, to prevent the conflicts that inevitably resulted when the two groups mixed.

Soon after the signing of the Peace, the religious rioting and disorder that had plagued the Reich for several years began to die down. With the core cities secure and stable, the Duchies were able to resume effective taxation and military recruitment, thus allowing them to put up an effective defense against the coordinated onslaught of the Byzantines and the Catholic Alliance. Yet, despite the official peace between the Catholics and Lutherans, discontent continued to simmer. The events in Swabia in particular continued to fan the embers of the smoldering conflict. Duke Hans was an avowed Catholic, a loyal supporter of Kaiser Siegfried and the Pope, and he had made repeated calls to his fellow believers for support in his war against the rebellious Electors. While Wolfgang Hümmel had not allied himself with either religious group, Dietrich von Dassel was one of the most ardent Lutherans and his entry into the conflict in 1326, with Alexander Luther himself at his side, began to give the Swabian Civil War some less than subtle undertones. Across the Reich, the peace between Catholics and Lutherans continued to hold, but both sides began to complain openly about the abuses and atrocities committed by the other in the fratricidal war in Swabia.

In Donauwörth, the religious peace of 1319 secured the free exercise of both religions. However, the Catholic community in Donauwörth was not a powerful presence in the city. Already within a year of the Peace, the Catholics had been forced out of the parish church and consigned to three places of worship—the Benedictine monastery of Holy Cross, a chapel belonging to the Order of the Teutonic Knights, and a small chapel in the residence of the abbots of Kaisheim. As long as the Catholics did not move beyond the borders of these three sacral enclaves, the two communities lived in relative harmony. Surveying Donauwörth late in 1320, Jacob Maier von Binicken, the neighboring pastor of Berg, claimed that Lutherans and Catholics had achieved a state of equilibrium in the city. Once the balance was tipped, however, or the sacral boundaries overstepped, it quickly led to tensions.

Troubles first surfaced in 1322 when the abbot of Holy Cross began to extend the route of the pilgrimage processions to the village of Auchsesheim, held annually on the Feast of St. Mark, and introduce observances, such as the ringing of bells, the carrying of candles and torches, the use of a stole during burial services, and above all the unfurling of banners, which were seen as “novelties” by the council and in violation of earlier agreements. Tensions increased, reaching a high point in 1324 with the election of a new abbot, and then amplified again in 1325, when, inspired by a miracle reputed to have occurred in an outlying parish, the monks of Holy Cross joined up with hundreds of others and marched through nearby Protestant lands with as many as eighteen banners on show. This was a formula for discord. The council had already issued a mandate against the display of banners outside the limits of Holy Cross, thus when the procession took place one year later and the abbot was equally bold in the choice of route and the use of ceremonial display, the council turned to force. Urban officials stopped the procession in its tracks and confiscated the banners. On getting word of this, the bishop of Augsburg forwarded an appeal to the Imperial Court. In response, the Imperial authorities issued a mandate, forbidding, under threat of ban, any further disturbance of the exercise of the Catholic religion in Donauwörth.

Relations between Lutherans and Catholics broke down completely the following year, on the day of the St. Mark’s procession (April 25, 1327). Despite Imperial censure, the city councilors continued to warn the abbot of Holy Cross to leave off all “nontraditional ceremonies” (such as the use of unfurled banners) and stick to the street near the grounds of the cloister. In the churches, the Lutheran preachers railed against the impudence of the monks and mocked their claims that they would rather suffer death than march with banners concealed. Disregarding all of these threats, the monks of Holy Cross, led by Prior Georg Beck, preached about the dangers of a Lutheran kingdom being established in Swabia, under the rule of Dietrich von Dassel. Accompanied by a group of young musicians and members of the Donauwörth Catholic community (including the wife of a Fugger count), they then marched as planned from the monastery to the marketplace, where they were soon surrounded by a hostile Lutheran citizenry shouting abuse and threatening violence. “One should meet these staff-bearing sacrament rogues with staffs,” suggested one of the onlookers, “and serve up some knuckle sandwich.” Against the odds, the procession made it out of the city; but on its return to Donauwörth, things did not end so well. With the Lutherans still gathered and the magistracy watching on, local men armed with wheat flails and pitchforks, as well as a few swords and spears, let loose on the Catholics as they entered the city. Staffs were ripped from hands, banners were shredded, crosses were smashed to pieces, and Catholic pilgrims were chased through the muddy streets, some making it back to Holy Cross, others taking shelter along the way. It ended quickly, but within days the “Battle of the Banners” had become a celebrated event in Lutheran Germany.

Bavarian and Imperial authorities quickly re-imposed order on the town, but word of the riot spread to all corners of the Reich. Groups gathered in homes, taverns, and public halls, complaining about violations of the laws of God and the Reich. Lutheran and Catholic clergy alike spoke of the event regularly from the pulpit. For the former, it was proof that the Catholics would violate the Peace of Augsburg whenever it pleased them, while for the latter it was evidence that Lutherans were determined to subjugate all Germans to their religious beliefs through force of arms. The only thing both sides could agree on was that vigilance and action would be required in the days ahead.

Bern, 1326

"Sir? The latest pigeon has arrived."

"Thank you, Joseph," said Dietrich von Dassel. "Where has it cooped?"

"The usual spot, sir. It seems to have more to say than usual."

"Excellent, lead on. It appears that this is what we've been waiting for." Dietrich started giving out orders to the people around him. "Friedrich, alert Luther. He might want to know about this. August, come with me. I'm sure Hans knows about this by now and he might be prepared to react at any time. I need you to be ready to alert the troops."

Both men nodded. Friedrich, Dietrich's aide, departed, searching for Luther. August von Blücher, a Franconian whose hatred of the French brought him to Swabia, followed his general and Joseph, the man who brought them all the news.

The city had now been under siege for some months, but there were still ways of communication with the outside world. Just hours before Hans's army had arrived to trap his enemy, Dietrich had made contact with a sympathetic farmer who had an odd hobby relating to birds. The man had agreed to send carrier pigeons detailing the news of the outside world, and particularly Swabia, whenever possible. At first Dietrich was skeptical but after his preferred method of communication, a man who knew the secret passages of the city well, was caught and brutally executed by Hans's men in front of the garrison, he had no choice.

The three men arrived to where the pigeon was perched, resting after its flight and graciously accepting some seed, the message still tied to its leg. Dietrich untied it, and without waiting for Friedrich or Luther, read the message out loud.

Hummel is victorious at the Crossroads. He marches on Bruges against the Danes. Von Salza in full retreat towards Rheims, carrying only archers and some cavalry. He has lost all infantry. Hummel still has a decent army. Expected recovery time for von Salza is long.

And then, scrawled at the bottom of the paper:

Can you hurry this siege up? I'd like to be able to sell my crops again.

Dietrich read the first part of the message once more and then discarded it, turning to August von Blücher. "What do you make of all this?"

"Too early to tell," said Blücher. We don't know whether this victory was Phyrric or not yet. Hummel definitely won, but the question is whether von Salza roughed him up enough to make Bruges difficult. After he fights the Danes his army might be in as bad condition as von Salza's."

Dietrich was about to reply, but then Friedrich and Alexander Luther joined them.

"What'd it say?" Friedrich asked.

"Hummel won," Dietrich said simply, and then continued his discussion with Blücher. "August, you have a point about long-term. That's long-term though. What about short-term?"

Here Friedrich piped in. "Well, short-term, it energizes those who do not support the current Swabian regime. This kind of battle result won't convince anybody that Hans has his act together. That means the good Duke is going to have to do some major damage control to salvage the situation."

"Against us," said Luther.

"Very good, Luther," said Dietrich. "That's the thing now, in order to save face and keep Swabia in line Hans is going to need a decisive victory against us, and he's going to need it fast. Preferably one that results in mine and Luther's capture or death. Rebellions that survive the initial effort to put them down become infinitely more dangerous."

"What he needs to do now," said Blücher, "is beat us quickly, turn around, and then march on Hummel. If he focuses on us too long, then Hummel gets a free hand in the north and can wreak havoc for quite a while until von Salza gets back on his feet. If he abandons Bern in favor of chasing down Hummel, then we get to stretch our legs a little bit."

"And there's no way he can do either thing," said Luther. "Because the other side would get too dangerous."

All three of them nodded at Luther's words. Even though the man was a professional theologian he had spent a lot of time around armies and garrisons, and was starting to get a good grasp of the military perspective.

"Hans has no choice but to attack us here, and to do it quickly," said Dietrich. "And when he does, we'll be ready for him. By God, we'll be ready for him."

Outside Ragusa 1326

Duke Arnold was sitting in his field tent. As much as a field tent that it was. With multiple rooms, including a council of war table, reception area and small armoury is was in reality a small palace. Lantern’s strewn throughout the massive marquee turned night into day and allowed the Duke and his retinue to work throughout the night, attending to the tasks required to govern a Duchy in a time of crisis.

Sitting at one end of the massive table normally reserved for his briefing sessions Arnold was putting the finishing touches on a fairly long letter.

“My Lord,” Bane knelt briefly before taking a seat and pouring himself a glass of mead.

“Reports indicate Hummel has handed von Salza a fairly decisive defeat.”

“Did either of them get killed?” Arnold looked up as he pressed his Ducal seal into the blood red wax sealing the envelop.

“Unfortunately not my Lord. Both men survived the encounter.”

“God damn Separatists, or Rebel’s or what ever you want to call these bloody Count’s pissing about while our real enemies are smashing down the Reich’s collective doors!! They should be all put against a wall and shot with these new pistol contraptions!!”

Bane paused before continuing. Letting his Duke calm down was always a healthy option he had found, it usually lead to less fatalities in which ever situation they found themselves in. The recent destruction of the Venetian forces being the latest example. In reality the Duke would never have attacked if it wasn’t for the merchants from Prague stealing gold and crops from Vienna.

“Have you heard the rumours?”

The Duke raised an eyebrow at the fully helmed Dread Knight. Bane realised the Duke wanted him to continue.

“Words has reached our scouts south of Daruzzo that a large fleet is being constructed in the Holy Land. The Kaiser is making his way back to the Reich it seems.”

Arnold face betrayed nothing of his feelings on the subject. Even to his most trusted servant, the Duke would not publicly speak his mind about the Kaiser.

“Interesting, his return should impact the general situation.”

Bane could not even read between the lines of that statement so he fell silent.

Handing him the letter Arnold stood and placed his hand on his tall dark armoured companion.

“Take this to Becker. Talk with him, make him see reason Bane. I spoke to you yesterday on this and the Priest has not changed my mind on the matter. What I said still stands. Go, be safe Bane.

Ride to Prague and heal this Duchy my friend.”

Without a word the Dread Knight bowed and left the chamber.