Southern France, 1368

Herrmann Steffen sat in his tent in solitude, with only the latest transcripts from the Diet to keep him company. It was not very much. The latest round of bickering had once again crossed the edge, with the old familiar allegations of a secret society coming out.

Peter and Fritz still wanted justice for their brother. Lothar, Herrmann's father, was still denying everything and grandstanding about how Siegfried was a disease for the Reich. Edmund Becker was still whining about his beloved Bohemia. The only real difference was that Fritz was now taking out his frustration on everybody who wasn't meeting his expectations.

Despite everything, it was still amazing that the Diet was functioning considering the allegations being thrown around. It seemed like everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first move. Everybody was savoring the last few moments of stability and organization before the Reich was once again plunged into civil war. The Kaiser and Lothar had pretty much said as much.

You would have thought they would have learned, Herrmann thought, crumbling the transcripts up and chucking them out of his tent. All of the people instigating this fight - Kaiser Peter, Fritz, Herrmann's father, Arnold and Becker to an extent - were all old enough. Every single one of them participated in the Cataclysm. Every single one of them knew firsthand what disunity and civil war could do to the Reich. And still they persisted!

It was all of the younger ones who were ignoring it, staying out of it. Out of the four Crusaders - himself, Hugo de Cervole, Welf von Luxemburg, and Ehrhart Ruppel - only Ruppel had participated in the Cataclysm, and for most of it he had simply safeguarded Staufen, which was away from any kind of front up until the catastrophic Battle of Bern. This fight, once again, would be the previous generation's fight. Their last hurrah, perhaps. Everyone in that special little group was now on the other side of fifty. Some of the oldest were even nearer to sixty. Would this be their final gift to Herrmann's generation? Shattering the Reich to its very foundations once and for all, leaving their children to pick up the pieces?

Herrmann joined the Crusade at first to knock around some French, but after the present conflict erupted, he used it as an excuse to get away from it all. Take a nice, long excursion away from the Diet and the Reich, and hope everything sorted itself out. Maybe by the time he got back it would be all over. Maybe the torch could finally pass and he could stand for Chancellor, and maybe win.

Maybe? Hah!

No, the second civil war would most likely happen. And Herrmann would be far from it, holding the fort, allowing the children that were his elders to fight out their little conflict in peace.

He left his tent. "Captain?" he called, "This French commander about to attack us. How old is he?"

"Fairly young, sir. Around thirty would be my guess."

"Oh, well. I was hoping for someone older."

"Sir?"

"Come on," Herrmann said, "let's see how well pilgrims fight."