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Thread: A Nice Case Of Burgundy

  1. #1
    The White Rose of York Rex Angliae's Avatar
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    A Nice Case Of Burgundy

    At long last I have determined to start a new story. Having done a narrative AAR (In Flanders Fields) and then a chronicle style (Arthur's Tale) I wanted to write in a different vein. So this time it's written in the present tense and I aim for a lot more dialogue. The actual game is not very far advanced. It's Deus Vult normal difficulty and aggressiveness. Things are a bit slow at the moment so plenty of chance for me to pad things out but using real game events as the framework for the storyline. I' be grateful for feedback on the first instalment below and hopefully it will go on to be as long as my previous AARs and hopefully as enjoyable judging by past feedback on them. Enjoy.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------
    A NICE CASE OF BURGUNDY

    Somewhere a dog barks. A thickset man sits in a heavy wooden chair by a fire that dominates the room. He looks up and scratches his head, his concentration momentarily broken by the canine interruption. His attention is drawn by the wisps of smoke that spiral up towards the opening in the roof above. A couple of small birds squabble in the gloom above flapping their wings as they chase one another around in ever decreasing circles. A smouldering brand falls out of the fire and splutters on the hard earthen floor. The man toys with it absent-mindedly with his booted foot. Someone coughs breaking his reverie. He looks across to his companion, a younger man with the same build and colouring, and then back to the piece of parchment in his hand. He can read, an accomplishment few of his ilk can match, a legacy of his ecclesiastical training in his youth, and a skill which allows him to dispense with the need for clerks at intimate times such as these.

    It is the year of Grace 1067. In two days time it will be the feast of the Epiphany. The older man is Robert, Duke of Burgundy. The younger man is his eldest son and heir Henri. They are sitting in the great hall of the wooden castle at Dijon in the heart of Burgundy. Although not a backwater, the duchy is poor, and the new fashion for stone built castles is still a distant prospect. The news they have been digesting is that of the coronation of William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy, as King of England in Westminster Abbey on Christmas Day just past. Like the rest of the Frankish nobility, Robert can still scarcely believe that this fierce, brutish man can have conquered the rich Anglo-Saxon kingdom of England in such a daring and outrageous manner. Robert has never met Duke William, but few in the Frankish lands have not heard of the man’s awesome and fearsome reputation. Robert knows that he himself could never have pulled it off. But the news has shocked him and he is assessing the implications for Burgundy with his favourite son.

    “Imagine, a Norman as king of England!” says the duke “And he a bastard to boot.”

    “Indeed, I have heard he is not a man to cross” replies Henri “bastard by name and bastard by nature.” He chuckles at his own witticism. “I wonder what our kinsman King Phillippe makes of it?”

    “It matters not a jot what he thinks of it. He has to sit in Paris knowing he can do nothing about it. The time for action is past. King William now has all the riches of England at his disposal. True, at present I doubt he controls most of the kingdom but he has not made himself king to be satisfied with the pickings of the south – mark my words, ‘ere long he will be master of his new kingdom and the most powerful king in Christendom.

    “We can be thankful that William is unlikely to turn his attention to us, but what will our liege King Phillippe do? Will he prepare for a possible assault on Normandy in the duke’s absence? Does he protect his own lands from Norman incursion? Or does he envy William and embark on his own campaign of aggrandisement?”

    “But he is our good lord and sworn to protect us” says Henri.

    “True, but he can call upon us to support him in any wars he makes, and that could hamper any ambitions we may have of our own.”

    “You could always refuse to support him father.”

    “Ha! And what good would that do? We would simply become the focus for his aggression. Besides he is my nephew don’t forget, and your cousin. No we must prepare ourselves to support the king should he have need of us. And that is why I want you to become my marshal. I’ve seen you with the men; you have a way with them. They fear me because I am their duke. You they would follow for who, not what you are.”

    “Father, I shall be honoured, but I had rather have my own lands than serve my days as your marshal.”

    “Patience my son; all in good time. If we are to achieve anything we must have a strong military; surely you see that?”

    “Of course, father. Forgive my impudence.”

    “There is nothing to forgive. Go and fetch your brothers and sisters and your mother; we all have much to discuss. Then we’ll have some more wine. I have a really nice drop of Burgundy that I’ve been keeping for an occasion such as this.”
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The court of Burgundy is a small one. Robert is the first duke of Burgundy and as yet his court has not had time to flourish. Thus his family are his council. His eldest son Henri is marshal of Burgundy. His elder daughter Constance is his steward. His younger daughter Hildegarde is his chancellor. Her mother, Ermengarde, the duke’s second wife, is spymaster. The second son Robert is a keen soldier who resents his elder brother’s appointment as marshal. The duke tells him now that he has plans but that he must wait awhile, but all will be well. And finally there is the youngest son, Simon, or simple Simon as some unkindly call him. The gene pool was less kind to Simon than his siblings and although his father loves him, he knows that Simon is best kept away from matters of state. Looking back now, his father wishes he had sent him to the monks for an education, for as yet the duke lacks a suitable cleric to act as his chaplain and confessor.

    The duke has two counties that he rules directly as demesne lands; Dijon and Charolais. He has three vassals. Hugues de Semur is aged 44 and is Count of Chalons. Guy de Macon, the Count of Macon, is a boy of 11 years. Guillaume de Nevers is Count of Nevers and Auxerre with whom the duke’s relations are strained. The two have long been rivals.

    It is still 4 January 1067. The fire is still burning. The candles have burned low and several are guttering in the breeze that blows through the draughty hall. One candle is larger than the others and has notches in it to mark the passing of the hours. It shows that it is now around seven of the clock in the evening. Outside it has been dark for several hours. A light drizzle blows across the open bailey in the strengthening wind. Back inside the duke draws his cloak more tightly around his shoulders before addressing his family.

    “We live in dangerous times. We must look to our future. And that’s why we will develop our forestry in Dijon and then when funds permit do the same in Charolais. This will give us more timber and thus more income. For the time being I am leaving taxes and tolls where they are.”

    “If it were up to me I’d screw the burghers and peasants for all they are worth” says Simon with a nervous giggle.

    “Well it’s a good job it’s not up to you then isn’t it” snaps the duke. “If we take all their money who will buy the extra timber? And they will simply hate us all the more. You have much to learn Simon.” The young man blushes deeply at his father’s admonishment.

    “Idiot!” mutters Robert under his breath.

    The duke throws his wine over Robert catching him by surprise. He shakes the liquid out of his eyes and briefly fingers the dagger in his belt. But a quick look at older brother Henri’s stern countenance is enough for his momentary bravado to evaporate as quickly as the wine that had spattered him moments earlier.

    “Enough!” shouts duchess Ermengarde.

    She is thick-skinned and brave enough to chastise her step-family openly. She finds them a brutish lot, not fit to be the half-siblings of her own daughter chancellor Hildegarde, but they are the price she willingly pays to be duchess of Burgundy and she will stop at nothing to maintain her position.

    “Don’t you see? We must all be of one mind in this and follow the duke’s lead. A divided house is a doomed house. Our future prosperity and position depends upon the decisions we take now so let’s make sure they are the right ones and that once taken we all abide by them. Now where’s that wine got to?”

    And she motions to one of the servants who materialises from out of the gloom bearing a flagon of the deep ruby Burgundy wine that he pours silently into each of the seven silver chalices the Burgundian nobility hold out expectantly.
    Last edited by Rex Angliae; 23-07-2008 at 22:53.
    Loyaulté me lie. Vivat Rex!
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  2. #2
    A really good start, I can't wait to see the Duchy of Burgundy progress through the ages.
    I am eagerly awaiting an update
    All of my AAR's are in the inkwell

  3. #3
    Field Marshal phargle's Avatar
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    “Idiot!” mutters Robert under his breath.

    The duke throws his wine over Robert catching him by surprise.

    “Enough!” shouts duchess Ermengarde.
    I see that the Tourettes have inherited the duchy of Burgundy!

  4. #4
    Game Over Man! Count Lake's Avatar
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    Interesting start, Burgundy is always an interesting and flexible choice, with lots of options for expansion into Germany and Northern Italy. I hope this AAR continues to impress.

  5. #5
    You really have a way with words. Count me in!!!

  6. #6
    Compulsive CommentatAAR stnylan's Avatar
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    It is most excellent my friend to see you take up the keyboard again. Interesting also to see you write in the present tense. When you have some more updates under your belt I would be interesting in finding out your perspective of writing in the present tense (since of course I wrote Memory of France in the present tense).

    I though the initial image in the first paragraph was very beautifully written. An excellent start by an excellent writer to a new AAR.
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  7. #7
    The White Rose of York Rex Angliae's Avatar
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    HC.AFC, Thank you and welcome aboard. I hope I can live up to your expectations

    Phargle, Nice observation re Tourettes. I may develop that further!!

    Count Lake, Indeed there are multiple opportunities and multiple threats with Burgundy.

    Brianwing
    , Thank you for your kind words.

    Stnylan, My old friend it is always a real boost to receive your feedback. I am so pleased you liked the first instlament and thank you as ever for your kind praise. If this turns out to be half as good as In Memory of France I shall be mighty pleased. I will let you know in due course how I find writing in the present tense, It's not a style I particularly like reading if I am honest, but I did want to try a different style.

    I will try and post regular updates.
    Last edited by Rex Angliae; 25-07-2008 at 01:07.
    Loyaulté me lie. Vivat Rex!
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  8. #8
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Burgundy, between East Franks and West Franks.

    Shall be fun.

    Nobles are allways causing problems for everyone.

  9. #9

  10. #10
    Zealous Firebrand Snugglie's Avatar
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    Nice start, seems to be a family dysfunctional enough for a lot of entertainment. Following!
    Stand up, all victims of oppression,
    For the tyrants fear your might!
    Don't cling so hard to your possessions,
    For you have nothing if you have no rights!
    Let racist ignorance be ended,
    For respect makes the empires fall!
    Freedom is merely privilege extended,
    Unless enjoyed by one and all.

  11. #11
    The White Rose of York Rex Angliae's Avatar
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    Many months pass and the forestries in Dijon and Charolais have been completed. Training grounds are being built in Dijon. Constance the steward is ill. No-one knows what the ailment is but she coughs a lot. Sometimes there are flecks of blood.

    The duke has several grandchildren, one of whom is a hunchback. His name is Renaud and he is 5 years old. Duke Robert agrees that he should be sent for a court education so that he can develop skills that can be of use to Burgundy in the future.

    The duke of Burgundy is influential enough for others to send their offspring to his court for a noble education. In June 1068 Phillippe the second son of the duke of Champagne arrives at Robert’s court as a fosterling. He is small for his age and very quiet. He misses his nurse and the familiar surroundings of Troyes where he has spent all his young life.

    It is Whitsunday the following year. Duke Robert is standing in the centre of a large stone built hall. He looks all around him and marvels at the construction. The walls are made of huge interlocking stone blocks which thanks to the masons’ skills present a smooth almost translucent appearance that somehow seems to make the large room larger still. He is in the newest part of the king’s royal palace of the Louvre in Paris. To his right and left stand his sons Henri and Robert. All around are many more men some modestly garbed like the Burgundians, others far more gaudily and showily dressed. Robert thinks some of them are like popinjays.

    “Hey! Burgundy! Who you staring at, you bumpkin. I almost mistook you for a peasant. I know Dijon’s a backwater but I thought the 11th century had reached even there. What on earth are you lot wearing!?”

    The speaker is a pompous looking middle aged man wearing a bright blue calf length tunic drawn tightly at the waist to emphasise his slim, almost boyish girth. His hair is worn surprisingly long for his vocation and is heavily oiled and probably perfumed. He is surrounded by a coterie of vapid young men who titter sycophantically at his words.

    “My Lord Bishop, I was but admiring the fineness of his Grace’s architecture. I mean no offence” says duke Robert with a slight inclination of his head.

    “You mean you weren’t paying me proper attention, dolt”

    “Forgive me your Grace. I had not realised that Holy Mother Church chose its bishops for their fashion sense instead of the traditional values of churchmanship, diplomacy and courtesy.”

    The showy Bishop of Reims turns a light shade of puce and strides over to duke Robert. A vein in his temple throbs. Pushing his arrogant features almost into the duke’s face he says.

    “You will withdraw that comment you piece of Burgundian filth!”

    “I will withdraw when you learn some proper manners and treat me with the respect due to my rank.”

    At this moment it seems as if the bishop might actually assault the duke. He is brought up short though by an imperious command.

    “Manasses! It is you who will withdraw.”

    “I will not!” But as the bishop turns around he realises his mistake.

    “You have insulted my kinsman duke Robert and behaved in a manner unbecoming one of my vassals to say nothing of your calling. Do you now compound your offences by defying your king? You will apologise to the duke and you will also write to him formally asking his forgiveness. Send a copy of your letter to the royal chancellery.”

    The king has wandered over to the duke’s and the bishop’s parties and the anger in his face is apparent. The bishop thinks momentarily of defying his king but thinks better of it. He turns back towards duke Robert but does not meet the duke’s steely gaze.

    “I am sorry your Grace. I apologise for my manners” the bishop murmurs almost inaudibly shuffling his feet and staring at the floor like a young child caught by one of his elders doing something he ought not to have done.

    There is a pause.

    “Robert?” inquires the king.

    There is another, more dangerous, pause before the duke answers, equally muted. He stares directly at the bishop.

    “Accepted.”

    “Come then, time for some refreshment and entertainment.”

    And as the king claps his hands a band of musicians that have made their way into the hall strike up a lively dance. Several younger members of the court make their way to the centre of the hall and start to dance. Others move to the sides towards the trestles laid with the best of produce from the royal kitchens. The king puts his arm around his uncle and the two of them head towards the raised dais at the end of the hall.

    “Take care my uncle, Bishop Manasses is well connected. Some say he is a man of high ambition and that he covets the highest prize of all. You would do well not to antagonize him.”

    “Your Grace, I did nothing. He mistook my interest in your splendid building for idle curiosity in his appearance. I confess I find his style not to my taste and ill-befitting a son of the church but as God is my witness I meant no offence. The scene was entirely of his making.”

    “Robert, I know. But just take care. Even I fear what the future holds for us all as far as that man is concerned”

    The bishop of Reims stares after their receding forms with a spark of malice in his eyes. Duke Robert has a new rival.
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Robert, by the grace of God duke of Burgundy, lord of Dijon and Charolais, to our well beloved cousin and vassal, Guillaume of Nevers. I hereby require and charge you to yield the title of Count of Auxerre together with all lands, buildings, goods, chattels, servants and all other moveable goods. In return, I hereby confirm you and the heirs male of your body as Count of Nevers, which county you will continue to hold as my liegeman and vassal and I shall be your good lord and protector.
    I further charge and require you to treat fairly with he who bears this message and to send your reply with him no later than the feast day of St James.
    Given under seal at our castle of Dijon this thirtieth day of June in the year of our Lord 1069.


    “There. That should do it” says duke Robert to his youngest daughter and chancellor Hildegarde. “Send this immediately with one of your most reliable people – not the best, just in case our vassal should react, shall we say, unfortunately!?”

    “Father, understood. I have just the man in mind; calm, efficient, polite, yet expendable if necessary. I’ll brief him myself.”

    Nevers is not far from Dijon, and so in less than three weeks the messenger rides his horse at a canter into the bailey at Dijon. He is spattered with mud as it has been a wet summer. Although today it is warm and humid and his horse is covered with white sweat as the rider tugs on the reins and tosses them to a waiting groom as he dismounts. He checks nervously that the leather tube slung over his shoulders is still intact. A large dog comes across to him and barks in recognition. He pats it affectionately on the head.

    “Glad to see me back eh Griswold? Let’s hope duke Robert is as easily pleased.”

    By now news of his return has filtered through to chancellor Hildegarde and she appears at the head of the wooden stairs that lead from the wooden keep down to the bailey. She walks purposefully down the stairs and across to the messenger.

    “Well Etienne?”

    The messenger shakes his head.

    “Hmmm. Let’s see what his grace makes of it. Come, he’s in the great hall.”

    And she guides the messenger across the open bailey and into the gloom of the great hall. Even in high summer little light penetrates the heavy wooden walls. There are a few small windows set in the walls and an opening in the roof through which the smoke escapes, but other than this light is provided by candles even in daylight hours. The messenger stoops as he follows chancellor Hildegarde into the hall, for he is a tall fellow. His eyes adjust to the gloom and he takes in the not unpleasant smell of rushes and crushed herbs that have been newly strewn on the hard packed earthen floor. The duke is seated on a dais at the far end of the hall eating strawberries with his two eldest sons Henri and Robert. He smiles as he sees his daughter approach.

    “Hildegarde my dear. I see our man has returned from Nevers. What news does he bring?”

    “Etienne, you may speak freely to his Grace.”

    The messenger sketches a bow and tugs the leather tube over his head.

    “Your grace, the Count of Nevers has rejected your demand utterly. He says he will not yield an inch whilst he has breath in his body. He has sent a written rejection my lord.”

    He knows the duke can read so he hands him the unopened tube. The duke takes it and extracts a heavy parchment written in the stylised chancery hand practised across the courts of most of western Europe. He sighs as he reads and then offers the document to the chancellor.

    “It is as I feared. Count Guillaume is a proud man who thinks he should sit here in my place so his reply gives me no surprise. It seems we must fight for your inheritance Henri. Hildegarde, have your clerks draw up a declaration of war against Count Guillaume. We will take back what is rightfully ours by force.”
    Last edited by Rex Angliae; 03-08-2008 at 17:44.
    Loyaulté me lie. Vivat Rex!
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    A Nice Case of Burgundy 1066-1106
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  12. #12
    Field Marshal phargle's Avatar
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    Seems they'll let any jerk be a bishop these days.

  13. #13
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    That bishop sure is the coolest kid on the block.
    Stand up, all victims of oppression,
    For the tyrants fear your might!
    Don't cling so hard to your possessions,
    For you have nothing if you have no rights!
    Let racist ignorance be ended,
    For respect makes the empires fall!
    Freedom is merely privilege extended,
    Unless enjoyed by one and all.

  14. #14
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Wawawawawawaaar!

    I just hope you won't lose.

  15. #15
    Field Marshal Vann the Red's Avatar
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    Whoohoo! Rex is back! Now, I have to go back and read the first posts.

    EDIT: Ok, now I've read both installments. It is a pleasure to note that your writing skills transcend style. This is so different from your other writings, yet still a pleasure. I eagerly anticipate the popinjay bishop getting his comeuppance!

    Vann
    Last edited by Vann the Red; 04-08-2008 at 20:52.
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  16. #16
    Compulsive CommentatAAR stnylan's Avatar
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    I see a rivalry brewing.

    Thankfully he doesn't sound like on the those military inclined bishops. On the other hand, to be trouble he doesn't have to be.
    To view is human, to comment is divine.
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  17. #17
    The White Rose of York Rex Angliae's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by phargle
    Seems they'll let any jerk be a bishop these days.
    Phargle, A case of art imitating life!

    Snugglie, Just watch that bishop go.......

    Enewald, Lose? What's that?

    Vann, Great to hear from you my friend and thank you so much for your very kind words. As I said in my first post I wanted to write this one in a different style to my other AARs and now that I've got used to writing in the present tense I have to say I rather like it. I notice I am using a lot more short sentences which seems to work for me. And I've written relatively little dialogue in my previous tales so it's nice to be abole to try that too. My problem as ever at the moment is that in the early stages of a new game there's just not that much action and events are very disjointed so I spend ages thinking of ways to connect events - like the royal court scene to justify an event that simply told me the Bishop of Reims was my rival. He's probably quite a nice man actually......but that's the joy of this game, it makes for fantastic story telling opportunities. I am so pleased you like my new work so far - hope I can live up to your high praise.

    Stnylan, Indeed. Let's just say you have not heard the last of this turbulent priest!
    Loyaulté me lie. Vivat Rex!
    Author of In Flanders Fields 1337-1422
    Arthur's Tale 1189-1349
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    Several Gentlemen of Verona 1337-

  18. #18
    The White Rose of York Rex Angliae's Avatar
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    It is October 1069 and the Burgundian countryside wears a multi-coloured mantle. The autumn colours are particularly vibrant this year. By now duke Robert has explained to his family and council his objectives for the campaign that is about to unfold. Auxerre is a well to do county directly north of Dijon. Robert has decided that it should be held by his family and he intends to grant it to his eldest son Henri. He will need a new marshal and 2nd son Robert has been promised this position if all goes to plan.

    The duke has heard nothing from Count Guillaume since he rejected the duke’s demand to relinquish his title. The duke is sad that men will now lose their lives in his cause because of one man’s pride and obstinacy. But he cannot back down and he knows that his recalcitrant vassal must be taught a lesson else his authority will disappear as surely as an autumn mist evaporates in the morning sunshine.

    Henri, in what he hopes will be his last campaign as marshal, has assembled the ducal forces in the fields surrounding the town of Dijon. He is with the men now, walking among them, sharing their hopes and fears. The men respect and admire him. He looks up at the sound of approaching hoofbeats. It is the two Roberts, his father and his brother who have ridden the short distance down from the castle. They dismount and the three men embrace one another, their breath condensing in the cool morning air.

    “Is all well, Henri?”

    “It is my lord. The men are itching to get on with it.” Quite literally in some cases, for life in the makeshift camp is not pleasant. Hygiene is not a consideration for an 11th century general despite disease costing as many lives as combat.

    “Come, let’s rehearse the plan” says the duke.

    Duke Robert picks up a long stick and finding a patch of bare, damp earth, he starts to scratch troop dispositions into the mud.

    “We will advance into Auxerre and head directly for the town. That will force Count Guillaume to meet us in the open. Robert, you will led the van and engage the enemy head on. Henri, you will command the main division and I will lead our horsemen who we will keep in reserve. Once we have defeated the enemy we will besiege the castle. Once that falls the count will sue for peace. He will not wish to risk losing Nevers as well.”

    And within the month, this is exactly what happens. Count Guillaume’s men block the main road south of Auxerre, taking up a good defensive position. The Burgundians approach head on and draw the defenders on to them giving away the advantage of the high ground. Henri then thunders into the flank of the enemy who break and flee. The resistance broken and marching on to the now undefended town of Auxerre, Robert’s army lays siege to the wooden castle which capitulates after a short while.

    It is St Andrew’s Day 1069 and a proud man presents himself before duke Robert in his new castle of Auxerre. He is admitted without fuss or preamble and he knows his way around the castle as its former owner. He looks approvingly at some of the changes he can see have already been made by the new regime. Auxerre is a fine county but he has come to cede it to his liege lord duke Robert. Count Guillaume approaches the duke who is enthroned on the dais at the east end of the great hall. He goes down on both knees and offers his hands together as if he were praying. This is the established method of confirming vassalage and overlordship. The duke places his hands around the supplicant’s and confirms that he will remain a good lord to the count. Guillaume for his part gives up his former title as count of Auxerre but promises to remain the duke’s loyal man for the county of Nevers. In the shadows behind the throne, the new count of Auxerre, Henri, smiles in satisfaction

    “Henri, Guillaume, let us celebrate peace with a cup of wine.”

    Henri steps out of the shadows. Guillaume eyes him with open distaste but he cannot ignore his liege’s command. The two counts clasp each others bare hands and eye one another jealously. It is Guillaume who breaks eye contact first. A servant appears with a tray laden with three pewter goblets. He almost trips over one of the duke’s dogs that is asleep on the dais. Luckily for him he avoids the potential calamity and presents the wine subserviently to his noble employer. A priest emerges from behind a curtain and sketches a cross in the smoky air.

    “Pax vobiscum”. He pronounces the exhortation in a practised, almost detached manner.

    “Pax vobiscum” reply the 3 nobles. None of them believes that this state of affairs will last for long.


    It is midsummer the following year and marriage is in the air. The duke has been approached by Baudoin, duke of Flanders for the hand of his daughter (and chancellor) Hildegarde. The match is a prestigious one and duke Robert agrees to it willingly. He replaces Hildegarde as chancellor with his wife, Ermengarde.

    Not long afterwards, the duke’s second son and namesake Robert, now the marshal of Burgundy, marries Yolande de Thury.

    August 1070 and a messenger arrives from king Phillippe demanding that the duke mobilizes his men to support a royal campaign. Marshal Robert is not sure that this is the right thing to do, but duke Robert is loyal and adamant and insists that his men shall go off to fight for their king. But he decides with his son that they will expect the king to pay for the privilege, and that the Burgundian treasury will not bear any of the burden.

    The duke’s court is bereft of clerics and he has no bishop. In 1071 Pope Anselm sends an itinerant bishop, Bertrand de Beaujeu, to Dijon to be the duke’s bishop. It is one of the pope’s last acts for no sooner has Bishop Bertrand been installed than news arrives from Rome that the pope is dead. A short while later news reaches Dijon that a new holy father has been elected. Duke Robert cannot believe the incredulous news that the new pope is none other than Manasses, former Bishop of Reims.

    “Mon dieu! What have they done!?” the duke says to his wife, the new chancellor Ermengarde .
    Last edited by Rex Angliae; 07-09-2008 at 14:40.
    Loyaulté me lie. Vivat Rex!
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    Several Gentlemen of Verona 1337-

  19. #19
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    and what effects does this have? he's a rival of yours?

  20. #20
    The White Rose of York Rex Angliae's Avatar
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    Enewald, he's most definitely a rival! But I don't want to give too much away...you'll have to wait and see!! Hopefully I'll not take as long to update next time. Thanks for keeping up with the tale.
    Loyaulté me lie. Vivat Rex!
    Author of In Flanders Fields 1337-1422
    Arthur's Tale 1189-1349
    A Nice Case of Burgundy 1066-1106
    Character WritAAR of the week 16/10/07
    Favorite History-Book AAR, CK AARland Choice awards Q3 2007

    Now writing
    Several Gentlemen of Verona 1337-

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