Arte de Ajedrez
The imposing edifice
Chillon Castle, 05 October 1478
I
She asked the servants to turn the house upside down to prepare for his arrival, but she did not summon tenants and neighbours for a feast. She saw to it that the silvers were given an extra polish, and that the best linen was laid out for her bed. She had his favourite dish made and his favourite wine ready. She made sure the children looked sweet and charming and made Louise promise she’ll be extra nice for the daddy.
She asked Philip to come to the privy chamber to see the children as soon as he gets washed and changed from the journey. Louise looked like an angel from a miniature. Girolamo was laid in a magnificent cradle; two maids were on duty in the rooms outside to take care of the children as soon as they tire their father. Marguerite knew Philip loved and adored Louise, he surely loved and was proud of Girolamo too. She knew as well that he loved them not only as his daughter and son, the first-born one; but also as the assets for the House of Savoy. And his fatherly affection was overshadowed by the duties he had as the head of the House and the Regent.
She had the room spruced up and richly decorated. She had the wine fetched and put on the side table. She had the décolletage on her new dress cut lower, lower than required by fashion, much lower. She heard the steps, took Girolamo out of his cradle and started breastfeeding him. It was still a new sensation for her as the boy had his wet nurse, and she felt rather uncomfortable with it. Still, it enabled her to expose her round breast and strike a Madonna-like pose of a caring mother. The final look in the mirror and the door opened.
‘My Lady,’ said Count Philip. ‘My Lord,’ she replied making a move as if rising from her sitting position but her husband stopped her. ‘Please remain seated. Let my eyes rejoice this wondrous sight of my beautiful wife and my lovely children.’ He sat next to her, took Louise, who as instructed had thrown herself into his arms, on his lap. He stroke Girolamo’s silky hair; as if by mistake brushed her full breast, kissed her on her cheek, on her neck. He stood up suddenly and threw Louise up. There was laughter. He give the girl two spins in the air and sat next to his wife again. The laughter died down but the cheerfulness remained. The blissful moment was so intense with joy it seemed time had stopped and they were inclusions in a piece of amber to stay put joyous and happy forever. ‘Son,’ she whispered, ‘your heir, my Lord.’
II
The children taken away, she whirled round to him from the door and repeated, ‘ Son. Your heir, the heir of the House of Savoy.’ Philip approached her. ‘Don’t forget there’s my older brother’s daughter, my dear,’ he said running his hand over her forehead, her hair, her nose, her lips. ‘My beauty.’ He was rewarded with an encouraging smile. ‘Ah, Joanna, she
is in the way. And she’s reached this dangerous age she might be used in the marriage politics, I hear Sanç’s envoys discussed armistice with your men but what did they talk to the Queen of Cyprus about if not a prospective marriage between the two?’
He didn’t answer immediately, instead he let his hand stray down over her chin, down her neck. He moved his face closer to hers, ‘I have a better bait for Sanç; the child Queen of Navarre’s hand would secure us Sardinia, let him keep his face and Navarre, which is in permanent revolt against him…’ ‘And bring peace to the two fighting realms,’ she picked up on what he was saying. She didn’t step back from him, neither did she get closer, ‘How brilliantly devious, my Lord, you will be the peace-bringer, the saviour of the nation and the Lord of Sardinia. But this doesn’t remove Joanna’s claim, and won’t stop her other suitors.’
Poor, poor Navarre
He held her firmly, he gripped her with one hand at the waist and with the other he traced the border of the neck of her gown, the border drawn temptingly low, his fingerprints brushed the tops of her breast. ‘Something must be done about Joanna, but you know, her mother has the Emperor’s support and I cannot veto all marriage proposals ad infinitum.’ He slid his hand down the front of her gown over the sophisticated embroidery of the neckline tape. She gave a pant but did not stop him. ‘I am not a third-rate princess; my brother is the Duke of Bourbon, my other brother is married to Anne of France and, my Lord, France will support you and our son’s right to his Ducal inheritance. I received signals from the royal court with some betrothal proposals: Charles, Count de Angoulême to our Louise and Chalres, the Dauphine to Blanca of Navarre.’
France supports the Regent's salic-law justified claims
The Regent pressed his body against his wife, the colour blazing in her cheeks as his hand went down the front of her gown, to her very crotch between the petticoats, and than round her back to take hold of her buttocks. She moaned, ‘My family can recommend many a respectable monasteries where our niece could take up a vacant post of an abbess.’ He slid his other hand down from her waist, so that he was embracing her, so that he had her bottom in both hands, ‘Make her take vows, hmmm… I vow, I’ve touched the very curves of heaven,’ he whispered archly into her ear and kissed her softly, her earlobe, her cheek, her lips. She jerked and tried to break free from his tight embrace. ‘Huh, you rush so to grab a woman, it’s so easy, isn’t it? But will you be a man to grab your father’s inheritance?’ she cried. ‘I shall be the Duke. Our son shall be the Duke,’ he said firmly, pushing her onto the bed.
Clergy has yet to be swayed
III
The morning sun slid its beams of light through the window, into the room and onto the bed. Philip stretched his body, felt about the bed for his wife, but his hand failed to find her heavenly curves. Instead he felt something hard. He opened his eyes. On the sheet he spotted a pouch, he opened it; inside there was a book, a manuscript and an envelope. He opened the book it was
Arte de Ajedrez by Luis Ramirez de Lucena. ‘She must have been hunting high and low to get it,’ he thought. He opened the envelope, it smelled of Marguerite’s perfume. ‘Get ready,’ the note read.
Marguerite and Philip
Chillon Castle, 11 February 1480
I
She knew, nothing steadied his tense nerves as well as a game of chess, and he needed reassurance desperately. Frankly, she could do with some too. The witches in Chambéry concocted their plan and, with the Emperor’s backing, taking advantage of Philip’s absence, they betrothed Joanna to this lightweight, Amadeo of Montferrat. Witches, two plotting, scheming, intriguing witches. The pathetic queens of ridicule. The queens without crowns. That harlot and murderess, dowager Duchess, there must be a grain of truth in the rumour that she poisoned her first husband, infante João of Coimbra; this loser Charlotte of Cyprus, whose own Kingdom was going down presently. And the other one, this stray bitch, this viper nursed on her husband’s family’s bosom, Beatrice of Arborea, this nonentity with her nonentity son.
The usurper
II
She put the chessboard in front of him and set out the pieces. ‘So,’ she said, ‘they made the first move.’ She picked the king pawn up and moved it two squares forward. ‘We are on the defensive here. What can we do to resume initiative? They wanted to trick us, why don’t we play by their rules?’ She broke off than asked, ‘Hasn’t Lodovico II of Saluzzo approached you on several occasions asking for Joanna’s hand?’ The pause which followed her question was unbearably long, but finally Philip replied, his voice getting louder and more confident with every syllable. ‘Yes, I can see what you’re hinting at. Let him live his dream and threaten theirs.’ He moved the knight, ‘this will embolden other nobles, and I presume they are enraged anyway.’ ‘Oh, yes, my Lord, some of the most powerful ones actually oppose the marriage on the grounds that if Montferrat will do, why not any of them.’
'A vassal for the Duke?' Lodovico II of Saluzzo
‘How will the court party react then?’ Philip asked. ‘I’m sure, they’ll want to quiet Saluzzo down.’ She moved the pawns attacking the knight and driving it about the board. They looked at the board for a while. Imposing mass of white pawns in the centre and the black knight chased away. ‘Aren’t we losing tempo?’ wondered Philip as soon as Marguerite put the fourth white pawn in the centre. ‘It may seem so, but we need time to reach our friends in France, to make sure of your brothers’ loyalty, of Milan’s neutrality’, she paused. ‘My Lord, who else knows where Blanca resides? With this knowledge under control we might find a few new options open, new allies.’ ‘Us, Coeur and Gioberti; his mother Catelina di Challant might have guessed who her guest is.’
Marguerite started as if talking to herself, ‘The latter two are unreachable, but we can use good old Jacque Coeur. Shouldn’t we remind him how much he owes you. Let him express his gratitude more vocally and praise you as the saviour of the royal blood of Navarre, we don’t want neither the King of Aragon nor France to forget of the possible advantageous marriages. Then, well, he’s quite old, isn’t he? People die of old age all the time.’ She went to her husband’s side of the board and made a sharp advance with a bishop pawn. ‘They’ll want to silence him, before us,’ said Philip and captured the pawn, accepting the sacrifice. They got back to their ranks.
‘Now it’s time to counter-attack, she said, ‘let’s wreck their centre leaving them with isolated pawns and weakened pieces. See,’ she went on, ‘there’s a way to neutralise the queen and expose the king.’ The exchange of queen for queen followed. The white king was forced to move. ‘And now, I believe your brothers will be ready to declare on your side, my Lord, if not for brotherly love, for prospects of privileges and land.’ She fianchettoed the king bishop making it attack on the long diagonal. ‘I believe,’ she continued, ‘your clerical brothers, Bishop of Geneva and Archbishop of Auch, will find some obstacles to prevent this marriage, a too close kinship or some such. So shamed, Joanna might be easily persuaded to devote her life to the service of God.’
‘And us?’ asked Philip, ‘shouldn’t I take to arms and lead my men to crush this upstart Montferrat like a bug. I’ve seen him fight, and, my Lady, your commanding skill surpass his by tenfold.’ She chuckled, ‘I don’t think it wise, I don’t think you should oppose Joanna directly, after all you’re still the Regent and there’s too much at stake.’ She patted her rounded belly, ‘We’re threading on thin ice here.’ She looked at the pieces. ‘I suggest castling,’ she waved her hand over the board, ‘and staging a revolt, say, on Sardinia. Isn’t Artale de Alagon loyal to you, my Lord? But more importantly he holds a grudge against this usurper Beatrice. An unrequited love case, as far as I know.’
Artale de Alagon's unwavering support for the Regent
‘I can’t just sit and wait, I promised you our son will be the Duke,’ Philip retorted. He stood up and started pacing the room fretfully. ‘You will sit and wait, if you take up arms against Joanna, our son might not be even a count.’ She sensed anger rising in him. ‘Remember, you are the peace-bringer, they represent the war-party. People are tired of war, who do you think they’ll support?’
***
Now, how can one not love MMP!? I’ve been at war for about 10 years and now this, noble opposition! The one thing I miss in this great game, which EU3 undoubtedly is, is the lack of credible and playable portrayal of late-medieval feudal feuds and early modern dynastic scheming. (I dare say even the heir part of HttT falls short of reflecting it plausibly.)
As for the game, I admit my tactics has been a bit exploit-ish so far what with my soldiers ready on Sardinia, Navarre-pawn strategy & ‘long wait’ event; but:
1) I see no other means to achieve such results (stubborn peace negotiations AI) and why not make the most of what MMP has to offer
2) I have my (role-play) dynastic reasons to persevere with such policy; this will become clear soon
3) in MMP nothing is for free; my economy is shambles, piracy rampant, advisors too costly, I scrape to keep my army (I ‘dance' call it a swing or ballet with the maintenance slider!); so I see everything is balanced pretty well.
Aragon's war exhaustion at last triggers frequent revolts. Apart from Navarre, three other provs went up in arms. Pirates have also become a problem for Aragon. There's no peace but with revolts to put Aragon attacks less frequently, so there are three/four-month-long lulls in the warfare.
Internationally, Cyprus is falling , England predictably got Munster and Leinster from the ill-fated Connach’s aggression. Remember, England is still holding on Gascoigne and Calais.
Jacques Coeur didn't make it through the storm. Was he simply too old?
Quiz: What chess opening did Marguerite and Philip play? (surely not included in de Lucena's treatise)