Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[Cecil XIX]

The following is a passage from the diary of Edmund Becker, circa 1336 A.D.

At long last, the Poles have besieged Prague. Though it pains me to have the construction of the Gunsmith delayed, the city will be safer if I repel the Poles from the walls. I only hope they attack quickly; the sooner the Gunsmith is completed the sooner I can begin construction of a new City Hall. It is vital to my plan that Prague becomes a huge city as soon as possible, and to do that I will need a skilled corps of civil servants.

***

It has just occurred to me what a waste it will be when the wealth I have accumulated from Prague returns to the Reich upon the Kaiser’s return. It sickens me that money from Bohemia will go to some other corner of the Empire instead of towards improving my county.

Wait… There may be a way. If I can break this insipid siege on my fair city by 1338, I will have enough time to begin construction of a new building before the Diet reconvenes. I can postpone the construction of the gunsmith and focus every resource on constructed the City Hall. Not only that, but attacking that army sooner will allow me to release prisoners sooner. Yes, it is the perfect strategy to hasten Prague’s growth. I just need to be sure that I can win. I shall adjust my recruitment, and see how the Poles conduct themselves before making the final decision.

[Privateerkev]

Bern 1338:

Alfgarda sat at her desk looking over letters. She was tired. Since Jan died, she had done the best she could to handle her husband's estate. Some in the Reich had treated her with respect and had been more than happy to maintain communication. Others had not.

Fritz von Kastilien had singled Alfgarda out. Fearful of what would happen to him when the Diet reconvened, he attempted to blackmail her into supporting him against her brother-in-law, Dieter Bresch. Not expecting such venom, and unable to take up arms, Alfgarda was completely unable to prevent him from taking Hamburg. Later letters made clear that the people of Hamburg would suffer unless she gave in to his demands.

She didn't want her husband's people to be used as pawns in Fritz's power game. That and she was feeling her age. Streaks of gray were starting to come out in her hair. Her breathing had been getting more labored. She didn't know how Jan lived as long as he did in such a hostile political atmosphere.

Jan's Teutonic knight, Max, walked into the room.

"Ready to leave my lady?"

Alfgarda finished a last letter and looked up.

"Yes Max. Just one more thing left for us to do."

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

Edessa: 8 months later

Alfgarda and Max rode in on a horse drawn carriage with Jan's body. Since Edessa was under Byzantine control, Alfgarda had to do some lobbying in order to be let in. A nice letter to Empress Theadora had smoothed things over. The Empress had always liked Jan. And what Alfgarda was asking was not much. Jan had always been very pro-unification until the war started. Eventually permission was given to bury Jan in Edessa next to his father, Fredericus.

The plot was already prepared. On the headstone it read simply:

Saint Jan the Merciful

Instrument of the Lord

Loyal servant of the Reich

Loving Husband

Devoted Father

Trusted Friend

Jan's sainthood had been rammed through Papal bureaucracy with great speed. He was gaining official recognition for his part in re-taking Jerusalem in the 3rd Crusade, his support of Pope Abbate during religious re-unification, and his fight against violent Lutheranism that culminated in his death. Approval had been given that these could be seen as "3 miracles" despite the new attitude the Church had taken regarding Pope Abbate's past policies. Finding the 3 miracles was more of a formality anyways. Jan had dedicated his life to defending the Holy Land and the Church so when the idea was first broached, it was just a matter of how to justify it.

Alfgard watched as Jan's casket was lowered. Her children were staying with the Bresch family. While she did not expect trouble, it was best to leave them back in Germany. Max silently stood by her side. When Jan was buried, she turned to Max and said, "Alright, I think we should say our goodbyes now. I'd like to say goodbye to my husband in private."

Max was not happy. He had just received orders informing him of his reassignment. Word had gotten out that he had executed a German noble on the battlefield after that man had surrendered. While the Hochmeister did not grieve for Dassel's death, it was politically inconvenient. Max was not in trouble but it was thought best if he maintain a low profile until some time had passed.

"M'lady, it has been the honor of my life to serve your husband. And I am glad that I was able to continue that a little longer by serving you. May God go with you." Max bowed to Alfgarda. Then he turned to Jan's grave. "Goodbye my friend. May the Lord take care of someone who served him so faithfully." Max made the sign of the cross on his chest, turned around, and headed to his old Chapter House in Aleppo for reassignment.

[Privateerkev]

University Library, 2007:

Kevin walked up to the inter-library loan desk to pick up his order. The clerk looked up from her homework, got up and lazily walked over to a shelf, and picked up a box of microfilm. Scanning Kevin's university card, she handed the box over. Kevin thanked her and took the escalator up to the 2nd floor where the microfilm readers were.

Kevin was doing some primary source research for his upcoming research seminar in gender next semester. On microfilm, were letters from one of the first female politicians in German history. Alfgarda von Hamburg was the wife of Saint Jan, a famous German knight and King of Outremer. She had briefly entered politics after Saint Jan's death against Lutherans. And then she had quickly left.

These letters might give a clue as to why she left. While historians had written whole books on Jan, Alfgarda was largely ignored. But Kevin figured looking at her short political career might shed some light on gender relations in medieval Germany. Plus, as an early female political figure, she was novel in her own right. Loading the film into the reader, Kevin started reading the letters between Alfgarda and Fritz von Kastilien.

I will not pretend we are friends, but if I can compromise with the Russians I can compromise with you. I do not believe you can stop my capture of Hamburg, but you can influence the course of it. Give me your word that you will not foment a rebellion within Franconia as your husband did within Swabia and I will swear to occupy Hamburg as peacefully as possible. Only Danes will suffer so far as I can control the matter.

To be more specific, I want your hands off of Dieter and I want you to make a public appeal for tolerance and conciliation to the non-Lutherans of Franconia.

This is not blackmail, and I am not threatening to sack Hamburg if you disagree, but that option is currently open to me and you, despite your insults, can have some influence in my choice.

Fritz von Kastilien

Sir Fritz,

First I am a "poor widow" and now I have my hands on Dieter? Which is it? Am I a simple "peasant" or do I have the power to sway the minds of great men? You can't have it both ways. Pick one.

While you were off butchering civilians, my husband was trying to do something about the religious unrest that racks this land. An unrest you helped cause. He ended up doing the wrong thing by trying to raise an army using such powerful religious language but his motives were infinitely more pure than yours.

I too could raise an army in this way to "bleed for Franconia" but I fear it would cause more harm than good. I will instead try to calm tensions instead of exacerbating them. I have put out a call to Luther to join me in settling these old religious scores.

But you are a seperate matter. I will not allow the people of Hamburg to be used as blackmail in some sort of political deal. I will not be bullied by a monster. My husband stood up to far scarier men than you and I will honor him by trying to have even half of his courage.

I will again state this plainly. If you so much as set foot in the city of Hamburg, I will leave Franconia. If you sack or exterminate the population, then you will see what this "poor widow" is capable of.

When Kaiser Elberhard passes, Peter will become Kaiser. Which will make Dieter Bresch Duke. You best start thinking how your going to deal with that inevitabilty. It will serve as a better use of your free time than threatening middle aged women.

Lady Alfgarda

I can very well have it both ways since I must, in public, acknowledge your widowhood and in private acknowledge that you have a rudiment of power.

Pure motives don't raise the dead. As far as peasants, surely you can see that your husband's direct actions have led to more deaths than mine. I'm certain that other rational parties can...

If you won't be reasonable, then neither will I. If you attempt to take the von Hamburg heir from Franconia the people of Hamburg, whom you clearly care so much about, will suffer for it. Assure me that you are more faithful to your House than your husband was to his Kingdom, for while I would be greatly pleased to see an end to your line's influence in Franconia, it would doubtless vex Peter to no end and threaten the peace between Dieter and I.

Franconia needs unity now for her Duke and her people and if I must threaten you and yours to accomplish that unity it is a small, pleasant price to pay.

As for Dieter, what care I if he is Duke when Peter is Prinz? If Dieter troubles me he may find ten times that trouble dragged down on his own head.

Fritz von Kastilien

Sir Fritz,

While you claim that you are not worried about Dieter, you are sure trying very hard to make sure I do not aid him. One day you will learn that being a woman does not automatically make you stupid. You will find our conversations much more productive when that day comes.

As for my husband, he is hardly alone in causing this current unrest. The religious strife was caused by Luther, Dassel, my husband, Duke Hans, Duke Lothar, Duke Arnold, and you. And it was also caused by the inaction of just about everyone else.

I have been quite frank with admitting my husbands part in these troubles. It would break his heart if he was still alive to know what he helped cause. It is why I am refusing to add to those trouble by raising an army. Such a move would just drive the wedge between the Catholics and Lutherans even deeper.

As for where my loyalties lie, they lie with the Reich, like my husband's did. And then it lies with the people of Hamburg and the von Hamburg family. I will stay in Franconia if it serves the interest of the people of Hamburg. If the Duke's own brother is going to butcher those people, then there just isn't much left for me in this House.

If people are nothing more than political pawns to you, instead of rational breathing human beings, then there is little you and I can ever see eye to eye on. I will not allow the people of Hamburg to be used as pawns in a blackmail scheme just so you can avoid the consequences of your past actions.

The choice is yours. Hurt those people, and Franconia will become more split. Avoid the city, and Franconia will become more unified.

As for Peter being Kaiser, he is not Kaiser yet. Think about who is Kaiser now. And then think about how close my husband and the current Kaiser were. Then try to convince yourself that this "poor widow" could not possibly hurt the great Fritz von Kastilien.

Lady Alfgarda

So for all your fine words what it comes down to is that you will do nothing, not even something simple and reasonable like agree not to exert undue influence on Dieter and call for peaceable conciliation, to save Hamburg and after I sack it you will run to some other house for protection while hoping 'Duke' Dieter keeps me in check.

Oh yes, you have perfectly mastered your husband's form of 'bravery.' Well done! When the people of Hamburg cry out for succor and ask who sent me I will give them your name.

Fritz von Kastilien, Scourge of Hamburg?

Funny how you try to lay the blame for your own actions on me. You decide what you will do. Then I will react accordingly. Take some responsibility for your own actions.

To me, it is sparing people that is "reasonable". If you can not agree to that, then further dealings with you will not be fruitful.

Goodbye Fritz and may you rot in hell for you what you are about to do.

Dearest Alfgarda,

Where are the kind words, the congratulations, the apologies? I would expect one who was struggling to live up to a noble tradition to be prepared to accept the consequences of her error. Hamburg rests easy under my control, and her citizens were quite shocked that Jan's wife thought she was safer under the barbarian Danes than under a good German.

I suppose, in your husband's tradition, that you are much louder the further you are from your target or the truth.

Fritz von Kastilien, Hero of Hamburg

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Letters from Fritz used with Ramses permission

[Zim]

Written as a collaborative effort between Zim and Overknight

1338: A merchant ship approaching Acre

As Andreas von Salzgitter’s ship approached port the Citadel of Acre loomed large on the horizon. It really is as big as Staufen! he thought. With a Citadel this large still firmly in the hands of the Reich, perhaps the situation in Outremer was not quite as dire as my friends had warned.

Andreas began to reflect on the events that brought him here. A native of Salzgitter, his family had left the area for Bruges upon inheriting significant tracts of land in Flanders. They had no history of crusading. Indeed, since the War of the Reformation had begun, most of them came to be suspicious of religious zeal. Not Andreas, however. He used to spend each Sunday afternoon listening to the preaching of an itinerant street preacher, who taught violence against the Lutherans.

The man’s arguments seemed compelling to Andreas, and he came to believe that the Lutherans were the main source of religious violence in the Reich. One day he participated in some minor anti-Lutheran rioting, just breaking a few windows of an outspoken Lutheran’s shop. Little did Andreas know that the rioting had spread to both sides of the conflict, and most of Bruges that day. When he returned home he found that Lutherans had burnt down his families home. His parents escaped, but not his little sister…

Andreas blamed himself for his sister’s death. He decided that he had been punished for participating in violence against an innocent shopkeeper. Against his parents’ protest, he decided to do penance by going on crusade to defend Outremer against the Muslims and Byzantines which threatened it. He had heard its defense had been left in the hands of Matthias the Merciless, a great man. Andreas’s family may not have participated in past Crusades, but they were noble. He knew how to ride, and handle a lance. He had the money to bring a retinue with him to Acre. Hopefully he could be of some use to the King of Outremer.

Suddenly, a loud noise jarred Andreas out of his ponderings. The ship had docked. Among the merchants picking up their wares, and the Outremer soldiers coming to take much needed supplies to Acre, there appeared to be a few men of higher class waiting for his arrival. As he exited the ship via its ramp to the dock, Andreas squinted in an attempt to make out the men waiting for him.

Matthias strode forward down the dock. A rumor had brought him here, it was said that an Imperial nobleman was arriving in Outremer. After the exodus of Jan von Hamburg, Dieter von Kassel and the Kaiser a few years ago, this was welcome news. Unless there was an influx of new Crusaders, the Kingdom would die with him. Of course, the ways things were going it might die anyway.

Matthias growled to himself, such thoughts were unworthy. He was here to defend the legacy of great men, to ensure that God's will for Outremer was carried out. To do that he needed to project strength, to show his soldiers and citizens, and any new Crusaders, that Outremer would be triumphant and her enemies crushed. Any doubts were best left to himself.

Further down the dock, he saw a young man coming down the ramp of a newly arrived cog. A mixture of zeal and disorientation played across the man's face, the mark of a newly arrived crusader. The ruler of Outremer approached him.

"Welcome to the Holy Land, I am Matthias Steffen. You have come to take the Cross?"

“Y-yes…ahem…yes, sir” Andreas stammered. He was shocked to find that Matthias himself had come to greet him at the dock. Hoping to make a good impression, Andreas immediately straightened up to his full height, and tried to hide the queasiness he felt from being at sea so long. He continued “My King, I am Andreas von Salzgitter, newly arrived from the city of Bruges. It is my intention to take the Cross and offer my services to defend Outremer from its enemies”. Having said his due, Andreas squirmed a bit. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. Should he kneel, or…?

Matthias surveyed the disconcerted young man with his one good eye. Giants had once walked in Outremer, and now, it seemed, its defense would be left to him and a stripling minor noble. Still, who was he to question providence?

"Your arrival is fortuitous, Andreas, Outremer is in dire need of brave men such as yourself. You see, thanks to the Greeks and the dear departed Siegfried, I am King in name only, there are Counts back in Europe with larger domains than this. The title is a relic of Kaiser Henry's vision, and has little to do with current events. I intend to address that at the next Diet Session."

Matthias's one eye narrowed, "Tell me, Andreas, have you seen battle? How many men have you brought with you?"

Matthias direct approach surprised Andreas a bit. It was so different from the genteel words of the world his parents had tried to bring him into. No doubt, he thought, Matthias’ straightforwardness was one of the traits that had made him so great, and allowed him to get right to the point and accomplish his goals. Putting away his discomfort, Andreas again put forth the effort to straighten up and speak clearly, “Sir, I regret to say that I have only been involved in tournament fighting. I have had some success in tourneys, and I do bring with me a retinue of experienced knights in the employ of my family’s feudal estate. I had heard back in Bruges that Outremer faced difficulties, and hoped that I would be up to the task of defending it. You have my word that I would die to see Outremer restored to its past glory, again as the powerful protector of Jerusalem."


Matthias nodded. The spirit was willing, but only time would tell if the man before him had the iron will needed to survive in Outremer.

"Tourneys, eh? You'll have your fill of real fighting soon enough at Antioch. For, as you say, we do face difficulties. Outremer is a crucible and God tests our faith here. If we are not consumed, all our weaknesses will be burned away, and then no force on earth will be able to defeat us."

Matthias, in a swift change of mood, clapped the young man on the shoulders.

"Welcome indeed! Your arrival and brave words have buoyed my spirits. Together we'll spit in the eye of the Greeks and restore Outremer to greatness. Come, let's get you and your men some quarters."

Andreas walked off with Matthias, feeling somewhat relieved at the King’s change in mood. Still, he couldn’t avoid worrying a bit. What was he getting himself into?

[AussieGiant]

Ragusa 1338

The final words had been written and the letters sealed. They would now be sent via carrier bird to a near by estate where outriders of the Imperial Messenger Service would deliver the Duke’s thoughts to a select few of the Reich’s nobles spread across the known world.

The Duke look out of his window at the sea beyond the Venetian encampment. The siege had certainly begun to take its toll he thought, disease and rationing had begun to kill members of his staff and army.

He hated sieges for that reason alone, but he knew that sallying would lead to a glorious but certain end and that was not something he could do at this time.

He must stay alive and serve the Reich further, that was the burning thought etched in his mind this morning after a disturbed and dream filled sleep. He wondered what the future would bring given the decision that had been made from the embers of those dreams.

As the waves crashed below the only thing that was certain was time. The passing of time would be the only true gauge of success or failure, of service or disservice.

Luckily the burning resolve in the Dukes eyes could only be seen by the passing gulls flying overhead. The Dread Duke’s visage left little doubt that the actions of the next few years would be conducted with all the force of will and resolve he and his father were renowned for. Those characeristics had been unhealthy for some and a boon for others. The eternal question to those around the Duke was always, WHICH, of those two results would visit them.

[flyd]

Portsmouth, 1162

The weather had cleared sooner than expected, and the fleet was to set sail immediately. Instead of reforming the army into regiments first, a general order was given that each soldier board his assigned ship.

The ship docked at Pier 12 was to take the 2nd and 7th regiments. Two walkways led up to the ship, and the First Mate paced back and forth on the pier, yelling "2nd regiment to the left, 7th regiment to the right", as a mass of soldiers shuffled back and forth. In front of each walkway stood a petty officer with a list of names.

"Name?"

"James Carpenter."

"Ok, name?"

"Edward Smith."

"Smith..." the petty officer looked at the next page, "M.. N.." He flipped to the third page, now looking a bit annoyed. "Smith, right. Go on, then. Name?"

"William Godwinson."

The officer looked at the first page again. "Fine. Name?"

"Where are we going?" asked William.

The officer looked up from his papers for the first time. "I can't tell you, keep the line moving."

"I'll give you a Florin." William pulled out a gold coin from his pocket.

The officer hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the coin and quietly said "Saxony."

[flyd]

Hamburg? 13xx?

The late morning sun shined through a stained glass window, casting red, green, yellow, and blue light upon the people inside the church. The window depicted St. Peter.

A brick, an ordinary red brick, came flying through the window at high velocity, shattering it into hundreds of little pieces.

The mob outside got louder.

The door broke open. Run! Run for the other door! She did, but the mob caught up, and...

Nuremburg, 1340

Lukas woke up. He knew what it meant. There would be no further sleep tonight.