Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?

Elorei said:

Almost halfway done! ¦3

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Hooray ! Also , update coming up in a few hours ! Then you'll be even more behind , dear =P XD

21 November 1608

“Riku, get the pistols from the other room,” Raul hissed as he slid back into his work room with sword still in hand. “Bar the upper room door,” he ordered towards Willem.

Willem heeded the order immediately as he heaved a stone slab table against the closed doorway that led to the downstairs. Riku was equally swift in running into the side room and acquired the concealed weapons underneath one of the beds. Stepping back into the common room, he tossed one of the pieces at Willem who immediately pocketed it before putting an empty heavy chest on top of the stone table to bar the midsection of the door. Already the rush of footsteps approached the top entryway.

“I can hear at least twelve of them just from the voices,” Riku announced while tossing the last pistol to Raul who reappeared from his doorway.

“They must have been trailing us the entire time since Siberia,” Raul growled as a sudden thud hit the door frame. Willem instinctively pressed the obstructions against the door to keep it from opening.

“The door won’t hold for long!” Willem said grunting as splinters flew in his direction from another crash against the portal.

“Open the roof hatch,” Raul ordered at Riku. “Check the ground level and surrounding buildings carefully. We’ll exit through one of the top level escape routes we’ve planned.”

Riku ran back to the other room where he hopped onto his bed and unlatched a ceiling doorway. Pushing it open, the starry sky greeted him. Taking some of his sheets from his bed he waited a second before pushing a bundled portion of it above the level of the open exit. Just as he expected, a shot immediately ripped through the cloth. Watching for a split second where the bullet had pushed the sheet, he lunged upward and shot his pistol in the opposite direction. A cry of agony reverberated through the rooftops of the small town and Riku fell back down on his bed while the other arm successfully shut the door closed again.

“They’re on the roof of the south building!” he shouted over the increasing din of men budging against the door. “I saw at least four of them!” He reapplied the bolt on the emergency exit and rushed back into the common room just as Raul exited his work chamber with his pack fully secured around him.

“They were prepared for this,” Raul hissed.

“It must have been a planned attack. They were waiting until we had all of the pieces in possession before coming to get us,” Riku lamented.

“Gentlemen!” Willem complained heaving against the rocking door, “I can’t do this all night!”

“We can’t risk fighting now, we’re too far away from the nearest outpost,” Raul noted. “We’ll go through the point of least resistance and constraints. Riku, open the roof hatch again. I’ll go with you to secure it. Willem, when you get the signal, abandon the door and go to the roof.”

“What will the signal be?” Willem asked under duress as Riku already made his way back to the room.

“You’ll know it when you hear it,” Raul said while rushing off. Willem grunted at the indication and pressed against the door once more.

Waiting a second in puzzlement over what the signal might be and straining his ears past the roar from across the door, he attempted to hear any possible call coming from the roof. He did hear a few shots exchanged, but he still waited. Unexpectedly, a flash of light lit up the dim chamber and a gigantic crash rumbled the entire building. After the initial shock, Willem couldn’t help but grin to himself. Dislodging from the door, he ran towards the other room and began his ascent onto the roof.

Peeking an eye above the horizon, Willem saw Raul’s hand offering some help up. Taking it, he was easily hoisted up as Riku closed the opening and dragged a hefty piece of stone onto it. Willem could easily discern the place where the leftover explosives from the earlier operation had been launched at the building to the south. A black crater of rubble exposing adorned where the corner of a building once was.

There was no time for talk as pounding could be heard underneath the rocked square exit where Willem had just come from. Following Raul’s lead, Willem leaped across the eastern end of the building and rolled a landing on the other flat roof. He turned back just in time to see Riku make the leap as well. Willem discerned a small spark on top of the roof where they had just been on before it bloomed into a blinding plume and cascaded an explosion through the wind.

“That should keep them busy for a while,” Riku boasted after the ringing in their ears subsided. Already, however, the other two were making their way to the next building.

“The stable on the far end,” Willem said in between running breaths, “The emergency horses are there.” Immediately registering the instructions, the other two cut sideways and hopped another building. Willem followed suit and trailed them as they descended through an entryway from the roof.

The evening night bit at their skin as they rushed outward into the stable. The horses moved in surprise, but they were quickly accosted by the three. Mounting them, the first to burst out of the stable was Riku. Only a shimmer of moonlight gave the Finn any hint of an incoming object. Like a leaf suddenly thrust by an uproarious breeze, a javelin rushed from the shadows directly ahead of him. Only by pulling at his reins and stalling his horse did he manage to block the projectile with the head of his steed. Shattering like glass being hit by a stone, the poor animal’s skull visibly cracked and Riku fell backward and off his now dead animal.

Willem and Raul dismounted and went to Riku just as another weapon sped through the darkness between the open stable and the shadow across the street. Swiping his sword upward, Raul hit the incoming weapon while falling backward. The slam of the crushing force, despite being deflected, ground Raul against the sandy floor of stone and straw.

From the shadow across the street, someone stepped forward into the moonlit lane with another javelin in hand from a rack tied to his back. As tall as a small pillar but as lithe as a greyhound and with skin as white as salt, the man stepping forward had the costume of a Persian but with the obvious complexion and eyes of a more northern inhabitant. There was no mercy, another throw and Willem barely evaded the close range heave as another javelin crashed against the floor and ricocheted into the air of the rear of the stable. Meanwhile, more disguised individuals were rushing in from the roadside and approaching the three as they quickly rose back on their feet.

It wasn’t looking good, half a dozen pursuers were already amassing near the entrance and another javelin was being readied to launch this time at deadly range. Running back to the roofs was not an option; there would be nowhere else to find horses. In the middle of his thoughts, another incoming projectile nearly missed Riku as the Finn attempted to regain his balance. The shorter agents surrounding the walking ballista seemed to seethe at a chance to engage them.

“No choice. Willem, you know what to do!” Raul muttered giving the signal to the other two. Racing forward, he was met with another thrust of a javelin towards him. Using all his energy, he countered with his sword sideways as his body shifted. Falling to the side again from the massive energy of the thrown piece, the javelin sliced in the other direction. As he was pushed aside, Willem rushed forward from behind him and closed the gap to the group ahead surprising two of them and catching the monolithic one off guard before he could reach for another weapon.

Dispatching the first two on the right, Willem wheeled around for the third but was met with a stubborn parry and someone lunging forward with a weapon. Riku quickly rammed into the oncoming man and slid his weapon into the gut but the back of his head met the blunt end of a twisting javelin as the tall one swing it around forcefully. Eliciting a loud cry, Riku fell with his opponent into a heap in the middle of the road.

Raul, after recovering from the initial strike, engaged the large brute and met his sword edge with the swings of the javelin. He gave a concerned eye to the dazed Riku on the ground but Willem was already backing away and exposing his flank—there were too many of them. Another swing of the large one’s javelin aimed low enough that Raul managed to hop above it, but was immediately met with the butt end of the weapon against his stomach on the return. Spitting blood at his adversary, he fell back and watched as the stars above him rushed down his vision as if the whole sky was falling as he traveled to the ground. He could hear Willem calling out to him, but his heart already began to constrict even before he hit the ground—for those in the line of work of which Raul is a part of, it was easy to see when one was outclassed. He understood that in this case, in this circumstance, it was true.

As Raul raised his eyes to face his oncoming opponent again, he saw a second of hesitation. It suddenly dawned on him as well—he could hear horses. Using the hesitation to get on his feet, he was able to avoid the crushing push of the man. Desperation seemed to take hold of the situation on both sides. Ducking behind a beam, Raul felt a rain of splinters as the weapon smashed through the supporting structure. “Is it the local militia?” he asked himself. “This couldn’t get much worse,” he grunted inwardly.

The pounding of horses reached its crescendo and a crash interrupted the melee in the avenue. Scimitar met head and soon a chaos rocked the two parties. Seizing the opportunity from the confusion, Raul snuck to the road and dispatched the one closest to Willem. A short yell from the tall one signaled a retreat.

As the Russians fled into the shadows in different directions, Raul and Willem helped Riku from the ground and kept their swords aloft. Strangely, Raul blinked, there were only two horsemen and both men now began to dismount.

“Who are you?” Raul asked in his best Persian with a narrowed stare.

“I am Zeren of Constantinople,” the young one replied, “and this,” he said pointing to a taller one, “is my lieutenant Abdullah.”

“Why did you help us?” was the obvious question that Willem voiced.

“The exit you provided from the Vizier’s courtyard was enough to justify our intervention here. We followed you from Bagdad and were not able to find where you had gone until we heard the commotion.”

Still uneasy, but recognizing a sincerity of diction that could only come from soldiers who were not of the shameless variety, Raul relaxed only slightly sheathing his weapon. “Thank you for your help then,” he said while he cocked his head to one side to motion for Willem to get the horses ready again.

“There is one thing we wish to ask of you,” the one calling himself Zeren said. “I assume you all are attempting to escape the search parties that are now coming from Bagdad?”

“What of it?” Raul replied as Riku, still rubbing the back of his head, brought three fresh horses to the road with Willem’s help.

“We seem to be in the same situation and—as it also appears you have more enemies than just the Persians, we wish to accompany you out of the country. We only ask this because we have no experience being away from our border such as this and similarly hunted down.”

Raul exchanged glances with his companions and the effects of the recent fight seemed to weigh on his thinking. “It will not be a safe journey and we are bound for Jerusalem.” The statement stirred the two Turks into exchanging a look to each other. Seeing the consternation, Raul added, “and I will vouch for your safe journey back to Constantinople from the authorities in exchange for your services.”

No smile came forth from the Turks but a nod sealed the agreement. “We are ready to ride then,” Zeren indicated as he and Abdullah remounted.

Riding through the streets of the small town and quitting the disturbed place from the east, the five raced off hoping to find a place to rest far from the watch of Persia’s Western citadel.


5 January 1609

“And with deployment in Prague, we have the necessary local manpower to maintain cohesion once we acquire the crowns,” one of the men near the large wall pointed out. His hand held a dowel which reached all the way to the center of Europe on the massive wall map. “We also have the most able commanders in positions to make sure that even the furthest from Madrid will receive competent instructions.”

In the dim section of the room, shadow veiled eyes nodded at the report. “Very well,” the one at the far end of the table acknowledged, “have the ambassadors ready the formal papers for the monarchs to sign. We will begin the coronations the month after—”

“I’m sorry, Your Eminence!” someone interrupted. The Room shifted their sights to the one standing by the door. “An important message from Jerusalem.”

“That’s quite alright,” the presiding one said adjusting his thin yet heavily regaled frame against the wooden seat, “a report on Raul’s progress?”

“No, I’m sorry, Your Eminence, it’s relayed from the garrison at Mecca. The Twenty Third Army has been ambushed!”

“Ambushed?!” the Cardinal visibly showed his confusion as the entire room started to murmur. “By who?”

“Fifty thousand Persians have entered Medina and half of them are heading south to Mecca,” the man kept explaining as he made his way past some of the Silent ones and grabbed the dowel from the previous speaker’s hand. “At least thirty thousand more are massing somewhere around Baghdad. From what we gather, it’s a freshly made battalion and won’t be ready for another two months. We further guess just from the rumours that this second army will be en route to Jerusalem and arrive two months afterwards. Your Eminence, we are at war with the Persians again.”

As the operators along the wall suddenly attached the Persian flag atop the strongholds of Medina and Mecca, they also placed a new flag atop Baghdad. The Room was caught in the chaos between shocked silence and a flight of panicked words. “We must recall the men from Europe!” one of them called out.

“Impossible! It would take at least six months to transfer them to the Levant.”

“Will Alexandria be in danger as well?”

“We only have six thousand garrisoned in Jerusalem!”

“There is no more time!” the voice at the end of the Room silenced the others. “Immediately send dispatches to the men in France to prepare to organize onto the Mediterranean fleet. Order Colonel Arias to raise more troops in Andalusia.”

“But… Your Eminence,” one of them spoke out, “they will not reach Jerusalem in time.”

“No,” the one in red acquiesced, “It would take too long to organize to get there before the Persians arrive. For now we have to rely on the men there to hold them off.”

“Outnumbered five to one, impossible!” someone shouted. A silence accompanied as they waited for their leader to add punctuation to the proceeding.

“As you rally the garrison in France,” he said slowly, “send our fastest boat to Amsterdam. Bring me General Schenkhuizen. He will be our man for Jerusalem.”


“He was born in Jerusalem in 1929 and lived there until his family moved to The Continent in the 30s,” Taguchi heard his cousin tell him. “When the Great War broke out, and their town in Champagne was overrun by the Nazis, his parents sent him to a local Catholic school because they knew the priests were under the directives of Pius XII to hide as many Jewish children as they could. He survived the war but his parents did not. He was able to attend Yeshiva University later on but he never forgot what had happened to him and his family and he devoted the rest of his life in assisting us and the Church.”

Taguchi had not held back his tears the whole time as he sat in the sterile plastic seat of the Amagasaki St. Jude Hospital. It had only been ten minutes since the doctors had informed him along with his cousin that Taguchi’s professor and mentor had not made it through surgery.

“Why is this happening?” he asked his cousin weakly. “What is going on?” the anger in his voice forced him to say the question with a harsher twist.

“Poltok-sensei gave his life for a reason, Junno… be happy that you were there for him at his last moments. It must have been a great comfort to him as he passed to Heaven that someone he trusted had possession of the Key which he gave his life to protect.”

Anger welled up in Taguchi as he rose to his feet and stormed to the window. He didn’t want to hear anything about Keys. “Why did this have to happen?” he repeated.

“Whether you like it or not, Junno, some of us can’t just live the kind of normal life you want to lead,” his cousin said after him.

“Urusai!” he screamed in their native tongue. “I can’t be like you, Hayato. I just wanted a quiet life and you just had to come along and ruin everything again!”

Hayato similarly took to his feet and faced his cousin’s back with some indignation. “The world is not going to go away simply because you’ve decided to abandon your responsibilities, Taguchi! If you think that’s true then your sensei died in vain!” There was silence as the words rang through the echoing halls. “There’s a lot more going on in this world than just your classes at the university,” Hayato said more quietly. “There is more to life than that cozy feeling you’ve achieved by making good grades. There’s more to being a Catholic than just closing your eyes and assuring yourself of salvation. If you don’t want to hear about the truth of why Poltok-sensei died then you can keep blaming us. If you want to grow up and be a man in this world, Junno, then you can talk to me again and find out why it is that our family was asked to carry this burden…” There was a short pause and Taguchi curled up against the cold dim window.

“Who will,” Taguchi began wiping the tears from his eyes. His tone seemed to shift. “Who will take care of—”

“Our man will come,” Hayato answered him as his voice warmed, “and will make Poltok-sensei’s body ready for its return to Jerusalem.”

Chapter LXXI: Return to Jerusalem (coming soon)

English Patriot said:

Saved in the nick of time! By the Turks, oddly enough, still, being alive is being alive.



And Taguchi.. he needs to understand his place in the world!!

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XD Yes , a very strange twist . Silly Turks ! And Taguchi , poor kid ! XD

Amric: Yes indeed , Taguchi is another semi-Tom where he's got to learn to deal with the reality around him and that there are deeper truths to life worth fighting for than simply being lethargic like our current generation of his age .

Grubnessul: Haha XD Season II is far from over , I'm afraid . There's a lot more going to happen than just Jerusalem but yes you're right , Grubby is what the Silent Room is going to bank on to save Jerusalem . DEUS VULT !

Chief Ragusa: That is very correct indeed , there's a lot riding on Jerusalem and the prestige of Christendom in general .

Avernite: Haha , that is yet to be seen ! But yes , convergence on Jerusalem !

Judas Maccabeus: I always hated the ancient Persians because they were so mean to the Greeks !

Avernite: Yes , the Dutch Legacy might just continue that way ! XD Go Burgundian Court !

Grubnessul said:

Watched a bit to much 300, Cannonized?

I never claimed season two was over, it's just that this is your style of building up to the climax, which will be in Jeruzalem this time I guess.

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Haha we were learning about the Spartans in class the other day . XD And yes , Jerusalem will be a climactic battle .

Elorei: Oh you know Nia , she's always ... yeah XD

Incognitia: Yes , I too felt a tinge of sentimentality at the idea that we will have Grubby back into action . However , you have to remember that Grubby isn't even past his 40s yet . He's still a young buck . We'll see why he retired early some more in the next installment .

RGB: I musn't run away , I musn't run away , I musn't run away !

Myth: Yes , with most of the ground forces committed to northern and central europe for the handing over to the crowns , there are relatively few to send to Jerusalem on such short notice . It was perfect timing by the Persians which , inadvertedly , was given to them by Raul's perfect operation in Baghdad .

coz1: Thank you ! Two fight scenes in a row , I'm exhausted ! And then a war scene approaching . But i'll spend some time in between including in the bonus this week to add some non-fighting elements in .