A Collaborative History of Genoa

With a heavy sigh Sir Jonathan adjusted himself in his seat. His musical troubles over now, he was settling back to do what he had been unable to for a few days, spend time learning of Genoa. The account he found next, appeared to be a story, whether it was fiction or not he wasn’t sure.

The sun streamed through the trees in moats of gold and honey as the large Genovese party drew up to the gate. A warm wind blew lightly through the branches, and made the leave rustle quietly, as if greeting the dapper Italians. Two men waited for them by the entrance to the house, one was older, and had a dignified air. The other was an excited young man, who although he lacked the dignity of his older companion, was no less noble, both in bearing, and in true stature.

“Be still young man.” The elder admonished his nearly jumping companion. “It’s not as if she’s not going to be getting out of that carriage when it reaches the house.”

“Sorry grandfather.” The youth said, and attempted to restrain his exuberance, failing miserably.”

“You do realize your actually bouncing up and down?” The older man said, playfully waving a finger in front of the younger man, his near blissful grandson. “Are you perhaps ill?”

The young man ignored the twinkle in the eye of the grandfather he loved so much. “I’m Well, perfectly well.” He confidently stated. “Though perhaps my knee’s are a bit weak.” He managed as the carriage door opened.

“I see.” His grandfather dryly replied, and the old man nodded his head as if he had just given sage advice. “Lets head down to meet them.” He said, and turned.

“Are you sure we should?” His grandson asked worriedly. “I mean is it dignified?” He stammered. “I mean…”

“Oh give it a rest.” His grandfather said with feigned irritation. “Just don’t make a fool of yourself by babbling.”

“Yes grandfather.” The young man said diffidently. And then taking the older mans arm with his own to steady him, the two started down the stone stairs leading to the courtyard where the carriage had pulled up. “I hope she’s pretty.” The young man said as they neared the bottom of the staircase/

“I’m certain she will be amazing.” The older man said confidently. ‘That’s is exactly what I was told, amazing.”

As the two reached the Italian party, greeting were shared on both sides, and everyone eagerly seemed to be awaiting the opening of the carriage door. Realizing this, the door handle was grasped, and the door was slowly drawn open.

The setting sun warm on his neck, the young man, soon to be confirmed as heir of his grandfather, waited for the first glimpse of his promised Genovese bride.

The interior of the carriage was dark, and no shape could be seen, nothing broke the silence until from deep inside, there came a single noise.

“What?” The young man said nervously. “I’m afraid I didn’t quite make out what you said.” Then the noise cam again, this time the young mans face went ashen. “I don’t understand…” He trailed off. And from inside he carriage came a distinct whine, then a noise the sounded like vigorous scratching. Perplexed the young man drew back, and peered inside. Just as he did so, a heavy shape flew from the carriage and knocked him over, licking his face.

The young mans bride to be, was certainly amazing. She was the best hunting dog the Doge owned, she was beautiful, certain to sire a whole line of superior hunting dogs. And she was altogether unexpected.

Sir Jonathon flipped to the next page, curious where this story was going….

To be continued

Ahhh sorry? , forgot I had to move out at the end of the quarter too...but no excuses. Next part is in the works.

RJ

I lost my subscription to this thread! Ack!

Well, it looks like I'll have plenty of reading to do when I get back

SIr Jonathan smiled, pleased that the wrap up of this story wouldn't take long, his bed was calling him, and he had been losing sleep recently. The account seemed to pick up later in the day that the "bride" had arrived.

“You can’t be serious.” The young man said, his hands gesticulating wildly as he paced frantically around the room. “The Doge of Genoa sent me a hunting dog for a bride? Is this some sort of Italian insult I’m just not getting?”

“Oh come now.” The older man said gently. “I’m certain there was some sort of mistake. I mean most of the letters we have been sending back and forth have been fairly ambiguous you know.”

There was a harsh sound, and it took the elder man a few moments to realize it was his grandson’s teeth grating. His heir continued to fume for a few moments, and then savagely spat out his next statement. “If this is an insult to our house, I will inform the king and seek my vengeance. I swear this before God himself.”

“Now, there is no need to make rash oaths, and foolish promises young man.” The Elder said, taken aback at the vehement reaction of his heir, and the old man crossed himself, realizing he had been remiss in praying for his grandson to keep a cool head. Then his voice grew cold, and the young man paled visibly at it. “I am still head of this house, and if you ever wish to be, you will keep a clear mind. Or so help me, I will find someone else to assume your place.”

“But you…” The young man broke off, obviously shocked at his grandfather’s cold anger. “You c-can’t.” He stammered. Never before had he felt so small in his grandfather’s eyes.

The old man sighed. “I have no wish to son.” Then he stepped from around his heavy desk and moved to the window, he managed to restrain a dark chuckle when he saw the “bride” running about the yard, chasing small animals. “Perhaps instead you should look at this as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?!” The young man yelled, completely shocked.

“Yes.” His grandfather said sternly. “Did you really want to marry some Italian girl you’d never met?” He asked, the sarcasm dripping from the question.

“Well, I. She was supposed to be beautiful as a summer’s dawn, and I always liked Italians.” The young man hesitated, his burst of youthful enthusiasm dampened by the harsh feel of reality. “I don’t know.” He frowned disconsolately.

The older man sighed, and pointed to the dog, frolicking on the manor grounds. “She really is beautiful.” He hid his sly grin by moving closer to the window. “I’m certain you could impress some of the court ladies with her, especially if she shows loyalty and affection…” The old man trailed off meaningfully.

“Yes, you are right sir.” The young mans voice seemed to grow stronger. “Perhaps the lady of…” He stopped, and stammered. “What I meant to say was, I’m going to head out, and learn how well my new dog hunts grandfather.”

“Very good, I’ll see you at dinner.” The old man said, and finally released the chuckle that had been held inside him since this whole mess had started. He slowly walked back to his desk, and began to pen a letter of thanks to an old Genovese friend of his, thanking for influencing the Doge into sending the “Gift”. In return, he decided he would do what he could to see relations between Genoa and France prosper.

Sir Jonathan chuckled, just as he imagined that old noble must have. It seemed that the young were always sure of themselves, even when they weren't sure what to be sure about. Sir Jonathan completely understood the old nobles subterfuge. THe one thing he hadn't been able to determine, was who the story had been about. Historically though, France's relatins and regard with Genoa had improved at, and after this time, so perhaps it was true. Or at least, not entirely false.

Heh heh. I trust the dog was a bitch.

Nice RJ. Quite the wedding.

Hating to admit it, but I'm not 100% sure who's up next and I have this sneaky suspicion that it might be me. I think whatever brain cells the info was stored in snuffed it during my Boubobn/Scotch/Beer enterprise. Perhaps LD could send a little reminder...

Thanks guys, sorry about the late-ness of it. Interestingly enough, I tried to access the last list he sent out, and I got numerous strange messages. Basically I was unable to even see the last list at all, so a new one would be good .

RJ

Sir Jonathan seems to have fallen overboard... at any rate, he has not opened the book in some time.

A shame, but I personally think you accomplished many of your goals with this project, so if possible, don't treat the lack of response as a failure. You gave everyone who was paying attention a lesson in how great great writing can be, and how to turn seemingly mundane details into compelling stories. Congratulations to all of you.

There's no way I'm going ot let this slide (drunk as I may be) without a comment from Rictus. This was a truly inspiration AAR and definately on eof the grats, its a shame it collaspses. I may review thi s post in mthe mornign and say 'wht the hell whas I thinkinf,' but I honestly must say, tis been a pleasure to read. Truly.

Speaking for myself, I guess I got a bit fatigued. At some point, I really had to start forcing myself to write the stories, and once your enthusiasm starts to flag (as LD and MrT know), it really shows. But there was an impressive volume of stories put out here. And it was a great deal of fun.

driftwood

The real problem is, after a certain amont of time, you run out of really interesting stories to tell about the same event. I mean my last, was a stretch, it took me ahwile to find a new angle.

On the whole though, I think we did a pretty good job, nothing to be ashamed of. At least we paved the the way for maybe different types of collaberative AAR's in the future.

RJ