Chapter 43: A solution is found
Early 1674, somewhere under Rome
The Elder of the Society of Cincinnatus turned to the other three members of the order. Although Alexander O'Connor had been dead for some time, the order had considerable difficulty finding a suitable fifth member, especially since the one man that Alex had asked to join had done so earlier; his will contained no new name, which broke the circle, temporarily. Normal activity was disrupted, and the predicament was a serious one.
How does a secret society recruit new members while still remaining secret?
They'd begun by considering some of the more successful agents of the society, but while many were loyal, none had the vision or pedigree necessary to join. Of those closest to the Emperor, the most useful had already joined. The others close to Peter either applauded his moves or were so afraid of him that any new recruit would almost immediately destroy the secrecy of the order. The order of five had only five rules; very simple, but absolutely sacrosanct and unbreakable.
1. No living member shall know the identity of another living member.
2. The Society's secrecy is paramount.
3. Only those of noble Italian birth are eligible to join.
4. All members identify a successor in their wills.
5. All must swear an oath to the rebirth of the Roman Empire.
The problem with rule #1, of course, was the current situation: what if, by sheer luck, two members of the order identified the same successor? That had never happened in the past, but that's what faced them now.
The Elder spoke first; his one and only privilege in the Society. "How do we recruit a new member without him knowing who we are?"
Number Three spoke up. "Perhaps a quest of some kind? If we place cards giving clues in strategic places, perhaps one will find us."
Number Two retorted, "How can we be sure only one will follow?"
The Elder appeared to weigh the solution, but all three looked at Number Four, who had been unusually silent. The Elder gently prodded him. "What do you think, Number Four?"
Number Four sighed. "There seems one option, but a terrible one we dare not consider."
The others were all curious, and again the Elder addressed him. "Brother, we must consider all alternatives."
"The only way a person could be recruited and not know who we are... is to kidnap a child. An infant. One so young that he could not possibly know us, and we four would raise him together, or perhaps place him in the care of a trusted associate."
Number Two was horrified. "That is barbaric! What kind of monster even thinks of that?"
Number Three, surprisingly, added, "I must agree with Number Two; that does seem extreme."
Number Four looked up at the Elder as he spoke. "Brothers, I merely suggest an option."
The Elder was especially troubled. "I... I do not know that I can agree to this. But I also do not know what else we could do."
Number Three raised the most relevant objection. "Won't we know who the child is?"
"We hire a thief to do the job, an assassin to kill the thief, and a mute woman to take care of the child."
While the other men looked uncomfortable, they nodded. The Elder proclaimed, "So shall it be done. Number Four, make the arrangements. And may God have mercy on our souls."
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7 May 1674, Palazzo di Farnese, outskirts of Rome
Napoleone di Farnese, Chancellor of the Empire and still Heir to the Throne until Francesco reached his majority, had lived an interesting life and seen nearly everything. Except this.
He was getting married!
He wasn't sure whether it was loneliness or simply his loyalty to Peter, but when the Emperor demanded he marry the Tsar of Muscovy's oldest daughter, Yelena, Napoleone found he couldn't refuse as he had in the past.
However, when he did finally meet his future wife, all of his doubts melted away. It wasn't that she was beautiful in a conventional sense, but her gentle smile and kind eyes seemed to shine upon seeing Napoleone. Napoleone found himself so taken by her that he immediately knew that she was the one he had waited for all of those years, and she recognized it too.
Peter looked wistfully at the newly happy couple. He toasted the Tsar of Muscovy, who grinned. He'd seen it too. After the Tsar downed a shot of vodka, he waved the Emperor over.
"They look so happy, Emperor, your brother and my Yelena."
"That they do, my friend. I remember being so happy once myself."
The Tsar sobered for just a moment. "
Da, as do I. It is a terrible thing to outlive one's wife."
Peter could only nod.
"Perhaps this shall cheer you up. I have a wedding present! One of my archivists found a Muscovite title to the nation of Montenegro, but I have no interest in the Balkans, so my archivist... 'altered'... the document in question."
Peter immediately perked up. "Thank you very much! It is a worthy present indeed! But aren't they your allies?"
The Tsar chuckled and winked mischievously. "All is fair in love and war, Peter. This qualifies as both."
They both toasted again, this time to a new vassal for the Empire of Italy.
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3 December 1674, Montenegro
Two recently promoted men looked at one another as the King of Montenegro swore eternal fealty to Italy in some of the most nauseatingly praising words ever spoken in Latin.
Foreign Minister Lan Zhu was a Count; normally, the Foreign Minister was a Duke, but the Emperor felt so angry with di Ferrari that the last thing he wanted was a Duke as Foreign Minister again. Unlike his predecessor, Lan Zhu did not shirk important negotiations, and this certainly qualified.
Likewise, Constantijn de Ruyter had only earned his promotion at the expense of another, although Carlo Felice della Torre, the former Field Marshal, was simply under arrest, not dead. At least, he wasn't as far as the Dutchman knew. The new Chief of the General Staff had been a mere Captain a few days before.
Both felt an unspoken kinship. Each was a foreigner in a strange land, trying to fit in. Lan Zhu had been in the Empire for far longer, but it was a much more difficult adjustment for him than it had been for Constantijn, who after all, had learned Latin as a child like every educated person in Europe. The traditions of Holland and Italy were not nearly so different as Italy and Manchuria.
Although neither knew it, both also had unrequited love. Constantijn's love, a girl from Brabant named Anke, had refused to marry him as long as he was a mere commoner. Although he was no longer poor or a commoner, the girl's father had kept her from receiving his letters and gifts. Lan Zhu's beloved had been the very reason for his ejection from Manchuria. He had learned that she'd passed on while he worked in Italy, and had shown no interested in marrying, and so neither did he.
Both had also recently had success. Constantijn's plan to strike Ragusa and Montenegro at the same time was well regarded, and General Doria-Landi had executed his plan to perfection, routing the only force either side could muster in the Battle of Ragusa.
Count Lan used the General's successes to win his own diplomatic victories, adding not one, but two new vassals to the Empire of Italy, as well as convincing both to convert to Protestantism.
The Manchurian and Dutchman exchanged knowing glances as the King went on. And on. And on.
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1 November 1676, Germanicus Academy, Florence
As the soldiers saluted, the coffin for Field Marshal Vittorio di Medici continued on the procession through the Empire. Out of respect for the deceased, Marshal Contadino had elected not to name a new Field Marshal for the time being, and the Emperor agreed. He'd become a little less belligerent of late, which relieved many throughout the Empire.
Many credited the change to Foreign Minister Lan Zhu. While di Ferrari was often lazy and indecisive, the quiet but firm Count Lan was much more active, and given his superb results, Peter was willing to at least tone down his actions, if not his rhetoric.
With relatively little military action, the Foreign Minister followed this up by winning wars against Morocco and Persia, ensuring that neither nation had a legal
casus belli to pursue war with Italy, at least for a long time, by forcing both countries to renounce their core territories.
Coupled with the coring of four North African territories -- Biskra, Aures, Kabylia, and Al-Djazair -- the Empire had grown even stronger without taking territory or damaging its image.
As he watched his late friend carried to the memorial cemetery outside the Academy, one thing puzzled the Marshal.
How had Vittorio died? He was in the picture of health, had no enemies, and his wife had just given birth to a bouncing baby boy. Jacopo felt a few tears drop down his cheek. That poor child. His mother had died in childbirth, and the only family member who'd come to claim the child refused to go to the grave site or even speak at the funeral.
Very curious indeed.
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6 December 1681, Palazzo di Farnese, outskirts of Rome
As Peter I reviewed his soldiers marching through the square, his thoughts were elsewhere. Even with three brief and victorious wars, he found himself strangely unsatisfied.
Savoy had surrendered its last Italian core and signaled their complete surrender by relocating their capital to the new world.
Peter corrected one of his father's mistakes by annexing Croatia from Funj and added a profitable new COT in Arnor, formerly known as Brittany.
Still, he was empty inside. Even the rage that he'd once felt was dissipating. della Torre, coward to the end, died in prison instead of on the battlefield. He couldn't even execute the fool, as his brother and Jacopo had constantly begged him to show mercy. What had changed?
Wait a minute! His brother! It was Napoleone's relationship with the Mus-- no, Russian, since they'd recently renamed themselves -- bride Yelena. The one person he'd always been able to talk was his brother, and now he was spending much more time with his wife than his brother. His Emperor! Jacopo and cousin Sforza both had their own families, each with two children. Jacopo's son Brutus had finally returned, regaling his parents with tales of life on the run in Burgundy, trying desperately to get home.
The fact was, that as Peter grew older, the fire which once raged within his heart began to cool. Lan Zhu had an oddly calming influence; perhaps it was some kind of Oriental mysticism? He reached for another glass of wine, and as he drifted off to sleep, he reflected that drinking hadn't made him so sleepy before.
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New Year's Day, 1682, under Rome
The four Brothers gathered, but most felt not their usual self-satisfaction, but shame. A child had been found, procured by Number Four's... unpleasant plot. As planned, none of the four knew who the child was. The assassin did, but he'd cut his own tongue a long time ago to show his support for his craft. Only the assassin knew exactly where the child had come from, and had fulfilled the Society's explicit criteria: a child with no family, Italian born, and of noble birth. It had required that he take matters directly into his own hands, but avoiding the thief proved an excellent choice. The woman he'd hired to raise the child was equally discreet, and she'd taken him to the island of Malta to raise in secret. The assassin believed fervently in the cause of the Society, and was usually called upon for this sort of thing.
As the assassin collected his payment, bowed, and left, the Brothers turned to the Elder.
"Brothers, let us put this behind us. We did what was necessary for the good of Rome. Number Two, your plan to calm the Emperor has worked very well. Does anybody suspect our hand?"
Number Two shook his head. "No, Elder. A helpful steward has... adjusted the Emperor's favorite wine with a mild drug. It seems to calm his more bloodthirsty tendencies."
Four raised his hand. "Does this steward know for whom he works?"
"A necessary risk."
"Such risks are best eliminated, I think."
The other two Brothers concurred, and Two finally nodded his assent.
The Elder took control of the meeting once again. "I have one final concern. Somebody within the Emperor's inner circle may be aware of us."
The other three immediately started talking at once, before the Elder rose his hands to indicate silence.
"Brothers, I do not know whether this person is necessarily malevolent. I personally know him, although he does not know I am Elder, or even a Brother. However, one of the Brotherhood in the past was quite careless, and left some unfortunate notes on a file in one of the archives. He could never remember our meeting place, and although that place has since been abandoned, the simple fact that he knows of our existence may give him the ability to learn more. Not all of our agents are immune to bribery or other methods of interrogations."
Three spoke. "If we know of this threat, could we not eliminate him? If the Emperor discovered who we were, the consequences might be disastrous."
The Elder shook his head angrily. "Why all of this talk of elimination? Are we influencing the Emperor, or he us? We have been much more aggressive in recent years than normal. Our influence should be much more subtle."
Two objected. "This is an Emperor unlike any we have ever encountered. Most of the others either ignored their wives or were fortunate enough to outlive them. His innate instability requires a delicate touch to counter that."
Four and Three both agreed. The Elder thoughtfully stroked his beard.
"Perhaps, brothers, if a woman was the original impetus, then another woman might be the very panacea we've been after. Somebody similar enough to his first wife that he'll feel comfortable."
Four said what the others were thinking. "But Elder, he has repeatedly insisted he will never marry again and won't even see women in private."
The Elder smiled. "Then the woman shall also have to have a more material advantage. Remember why he originally married his first wife?"
All of a sudden, the other three smiled too. The right word dropped in the right ear would facilitate everything. The Elder's smile got a bit wider.
He knew exactly which ear.
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Two more updates will take us up to the State of the Empire for 1700. I won't update again until next week, most likely, as I've got to grade exams and have final grades in by the beginning of next week. Maybe this weekend if everything goes well!