Bastions
Chapter Forty: A More Glorious Dawn
Part 2
Prelude:
The King of Bohemia and the Prince of Brandenburg were just the two most powerful members of the Luxembourg dynasty which ruled much of the western peripheral of Christian Europe. Below them were a number of Counts and Barons, each vying for power. Like many German dynasties, the Luxembourg dynasty craved, more than anything, the Imperial throne: the Crown of Germany. They would do anything to recapture it from the Caliphate, despite the insurmountable odds. Their biggest hurdle was the Zähringer lands: Styria, Tirol, Holstein and Sverge. The Zähringers maintained a great deal of wealth and influence from the days before the fall of the German Kingdom. This wealth was spent trying to coax other German states to support them in their bid to overpower the Caliph from within. To Muslims within Germany and France, those titles were long gone, buried beneath the sands of time. What mattered was the title of Caliph and the prestige that when along with it. But Barcelona was not apt to give up its authority. Many states, including Prussia, did dealings with the Caliph as lord of Toledo. Having the Caliphate suddenly switch not only capitals, but dynasty and relationship was feared by many inside and outside of the Caliphate. The German dynasties were feared the most, as were the French. Their tendencies for saber-rattling had earned them a bad reputation within the houses of Europe.
The central realms of Europe, circa 1357.
August 13th, 1357
King Gunvald II paced, almost uncontrollably, back and forth. The whole world seemed be crashing down around him. The March Lords seemed desperate to meet their own demise, the King of England spoke of schism from Prussian Unionism, the Mordvins discussed a similar situation with the Patriarch of Prussia, and the Sich was demanding more rights and autonomy to protect themselves against their neighbors. The point of carving up the Empire was to make things easier and more stable, but it was all back firing. A divided Christianity would not stand for long. "My lord, a visitor is here to see you. It is Ambassador bin Iñigo from the Caliphate."
Gunvald looked up and halted his pacing, trying to look calm and collected. "Please... show him in," he stuttered. Prince Txomin bin Iñigo entered with a bow. He was followed by several members of the Hadad family including Viba.
"It seems, my friend, that the times are as easy on you as they are on us," the Prince said referring to the Caliphate. "I am sorry to hear that war has broken out between the East and the Caliphate. I was one of those who held out hope that it would not."
"Don't worry, Prince Txomin, the folly of the Marches is not the will of the Kingdom. We will have nothing to do with this nonsense," Gunvald said flatly. "I have grown tired of their belligerence anyways."
"It is strange that you say this, I was actually sent here to say the same. My lord, the Caliph of the West, refused aid to the German states and in doing so is being called a coward by his vassals. We are in fragile times, King Gunvald, the very stability of Europe seems headed for collapse."
"I feel the same way. Does the Caliph believe that his son will be elected to follow him?" Gunvald probed.
"He does not; support has turned against him, especially from the French and Germans. However, I believe he will appoint another elector soon, one that is loyal to Barcelona and will keep the balance. The key to our stability might rest, ironically, with Italy."
Gunvald nodded and then took a couple of back and forth paces. "What are you doing about Frandism? I've heard that it has been spreading like wild fire throughout the West."
Txomin's face drooped a little bit. "Um... it has been. In fact, many of the Princes have embraced it especially in France and Germany. It is a popular movement, King Gunvald," Txomin said with a twang of anger.
"I had no opinion of it one way or another. I can see from the cross with a crescent at its top on your neck that you too are a Frandist. I am not completely out of touch, my dear ambassador," Gunvald said calmly.
"The movement speaks to the people of the west; they find it comfortably sits between two worlds. East and West. The Christians find it easier to handle, so they flock to it. The Muslims find it easier to live with, so they too flock to it. Frandism might be the light that can unite Europe. Can you imagine, my lord? Can you imagine a united Europe, like in the days of Rome?"
"I can see what is coming next, Txomin, and I ask that you stay your tongue. Prussia is a Christian nation, and I will not be swayed by unattainable dreams. This is a whole new world we live in. Europe doesn't speak four or five languages anymore." Txomin didn't look discouraged. "We can plainly see that people will bicker over the smallest of things. And they don't always like change. No, great changes in Prussia will have to occur before Europe can be united at all."
"My master did not send me to try to convert you, but the Caliphate is ready for change, and it is likely that our next Caliph will be a Frandist. He will either be German, thereby almost guaranteeing he'd be a Frandist, or he'd be the Caliph eldest son, who is also a Frandist."
"So, I shall be trading a Sunni neighbor for a Frandist one. I don't know how much of a difference it will make," Gunvald admitted.
Txomin nodded, he didn't know why he had brought it up and now everything was awkward. "Bohemia and Brandenburg cannot win this war," he said, returning to the original subject and cutting with a dark undertone.
"They will lose," Gunvald admitted freely. "They will lose and it will be their own fault. I have no qualm about that. But the Caliphate is standing on shaking ground. I can feel it from the news I get, and hear it even from the word of her ambassadors."
Once again Txomin was left nodding, "Many thought that the conversion of the Germans would end anything, but we can see now they did it just so that they can stay in power and keep fighting to rule whatever they lay their eyes on." His tone changed, Gunvald was hitting buttons, either intentionally or not, that were close to the surface for a man that would soon be one of the most important people in his Kingdom.
"And that, my lord, is why I keep so close to my friends outside of the Caliphate," Txomin said quickly, gathering himself and then turning to leave. Halfway out of the door he stopped and turned to the King, "Don't descend too far into isolation. Prussia is still Europe's backbone; I don't think that will be changing anytime soon."
As the crowd of people cleared, all that was left was Gunvald and Viba. Viba walked toward Gunvald, resting a comforting arm around his neck and turned her head to try to see his whole face. The King was lost, confused and missing the direction of the civil war. There was no more script, no more goals. The whole thing was an improvisation and he could see how it could drive someone to madness like his father's.