This chapter is mostly narrative
Chapter 17: The Contessa
The army that the Pisans brought into the fray was not enough to beat back the Imperial armies; they surrendered on the 15th of January, 1167. Contessa Eleonora of Leece was now officialy the Countess of Brendesion, though she was still referred to as the Contessa by the males, as it made her seem more exotic.
[URL=http://s1327.photobucket.com/user/MapleLeaf16/media/PisaSurrenders1167_zps1c8ffaaa.jpg.html][/URL]
Pisa didn't put up much of a fight
A party was held after in Constantinople to celebrate the victory and the Contessa's vassalage; the hall was decked in decorations, a magnificent feast was prepared and all sorts of entertainment was brought in. All of the more important nobles were invited, with the exemption of the Occitan lords.
Philippos eyes drifted over the crowd, inspecting the young ladies who clustered together in groups to gossip and giggle. Philippos sat high above them all, in a masterfully carved chair at the head table, elevated on a platform. He was dressed in imperial purple robes, his back straight and his face stern; looking disinterested and rigid.
Contessa Eleonora sweeped into the room on the arm of a handsome Greek nobleman, not because she cared at all for the nonentity on her arm, but because it was improper for her to be unescorted. Her husband, who was the old man Philippos had seen previously, was not attended because he was 'feeling ill'. In reality he had gone to satisfy his interests in musical theatre.
The Contessa had already attended Demetrios the Stewards one-on-one seminar, but she had bigger thinks in mind. She watched as the Emperor said goodnight to his plump and child-laden wife. His face had turned red as soon as the Contessa had entered, as had all the other men in rooms. His eyes constantly darted towards her, and then to the ceiling, and then back to her, and then to the ceiling. "Now is the time." she thought, and leaving her escort's side, began gliding towards the Emperor, whose face turned a darker shade of red, his eyes fixed on her.
"He needs a release from his stressful duties, a release his wife cannot advise; and what's good for the Emperor is good for the Empire."
"What a cheap, morally degenerated, maid of the night!" thought Theochariste as she watched Countess Eleonora move towards the Emperor. "I know my Cousin, and I know he would never contemplate infidelity; he is a good, morally upright man. There is a lot I don't like about him, but he would never, not even for a second, consider committing a crime against God like that." She was startled from her thoughts as the Chancellor and Spymaster marched past her; she positioned herself to greet them but they had moved to quickly for her. "For men of such an advanced age, they certainly can move."
Philippos watched as she moved closer, her womanly hips swaying. His mind was bursting with all the evil and repulsive thoughts and desires that he had pushed aside into a dark corner of his brain. His conscious tried to fight back, but was knocked out cold by a swift response from his rampaging emotions. A dark shape appeared in front of him and he looked up, seeing an imperial white beard. "Oh God, it's father!" His eyes focused. It was the Chancellor. Beside him was the Spymaster. Neither looked happy.
The Emperor and the Councillors had moved into an adjoining; the gay music and incessant chattering could be heard despite the heavy door and thick walls. The Emperor paid no attention; emotion had been dealt a cold, hard blow by logic and reality. "Your Majesty, the Doux Miquel of Armeniacon will not back down; he is a stubborn and childish man with a bloated pride. Our only hope is to prevent the others from following him." advised the Chancellor. "I doubt we can manage to arrest him, and attempting to do so--- and failing--- will only frighten the others. Doux Miquel is elderly and in ill health; he will not live much longer, and the problem will resolve itself. In the mean time, I think a few bribes, or gifts rather, will be enough to placate the others."
The Spymaster lit up at the word "bribes" while the Steward shifted uncomfortably.
"No!" shouted the young marshal; this was his first crisis. "We should teach the Occitan's a lesson and force them to comply with our demands."
"Tsk tsk, such rashness. He is far too young to be on the Council." both the Chancellor and Spymaster thought, sharing a look of disapproval that while hidden from the others, was obvious to each other.
"I advise that we imprison the Doux, to show that we will not compromise. If he escapes, fine, then we will destroy him on the field of battle. I also advise that we use our soldiers in a show of force against the other traitors."
The Chancellor and Spymaster once again shared a look of disapproval. The Steward winced at the cost. The Court Chaplain stared blankly; he was still preoccupied by thoughts of the Contessa.
The Emperor thought about it. He remembered the blackmailers. "They did that because they didn't fear me. I must teach them to fear me again!"
[URL=http://s1327.photobucket.com/user/MapleLeaf16/media/ImprisonArmeniacon_zps1a58c961.jpg.html][/URL]
Never tell me the odds!
Next update will probably be on the weekend.
Chapter 17: The Contessa
The army that the Pisans brought into the fray was not enough to beat back the Imperial armies; they surrendered on the 15th of January, 1167. Contessa Eleonora of Leece was now officialy the Countess of Brendesion, though she was still referred to as the Contessa by the males, as it made her seem more exotic.
[URL=http://s1327.photobucket.com/user/MapleLeaf16/media/PisaSurrenders1167_zps1c8ffaaa.jpg.html][/URL]
Pisa didn't put up much of a fight
A party was held after in Constantinople to celebrate the victory and the Contessa's vassalage; the hall was decked in decorations, a magnificent feast was prepared and all sorts of entertainment was brought in. All of the more important nobles were invited, with the exemption of the Occitan lords.
Philippos eyes drifted over the crowd, inspecting the young ladies who clustered together in groups to gossip and giggle. Philippos sat high above them all, in a masterfully carved chair at the head table, elevated on a platform. He was dressed in imperial purple robes, his back straight and his face stern; looking disinterested and rigid.
Contessa Eleonora sweeped into the room on the arm of a handsome Greek nobleman, not because she cared at all for the nonentity on her arm, but because it was improper for her to be unescorted. Her husband, who was the old man Philippos had seen previously, was not attended because he was 'feeling ill'. In reality he had gone to satisfy his interests in musical theatre.
The Contessa had already attended Demetrios the Stewards one-on-one seminar, but she had bigger thinks in mind. She watched as the Emperor said goodnight to his plump and child-laden wife. His face had turned red as soon as the Contessa had entered, as had all the other men in rooms. His eyes constantly darted towards her, and then to the ceiling, and then back to her, and then to the ceiling. "Now is the time." she thought, and leaving her escort's side, began gliding towards the Emperor, whose face turned a darker shade of red, his eyes fixed on her.
"He needs a release from his stressful duties, a release his wife cannot advise; and what's good for the Emperor is good for the Empire."
"What a cheap, morally degenerated, maid of the night!" thought Theochariste as she watched Countess Eleonora move towards the Emperor. "I know my Cousin, and I know he would never contemplate infidelity; he is a good, morally upright man. There is a lot I don't like about him, but he would never, not even for a second, consider committing a crime against God like that." She was startled from her thoughts as the Chancellor and Spymaster marched past her; she positioned herself to greet them but they had moved to quickly for her. "For men of such an advanced age, they certainly can move."
Philippos watched as she moved closer, her womanly hips swaying. His mind was bursting with all the evil and repulsive thoughts and desires that he had pushed aside into a dark corner of his brain. His conscious tried to fight back, but was knocked out cold by a swift response from his rampaging emotions. A dark shape appeared in front of him and he looked up, seeing an imperial white beard. "Oh God, it's father!" His eyes focused. It was the Chancellor. Beside him was the Spymaster. Neither looked happy.
The Emperor and the Councillors had moved into an adjoining; the gay music and incessant chattering could be heard despite the heavy door and thick walls. The Emperor paid no attention; emotion had been dealt a cold, hard blow by logic and reality. "Your Majesty, the Doux Miquel of Armeniacon will not back down; he is a stubborn and childish man with a bloated pride. Our only hope is to prevent the others from following him." advised the Chancellor. "I doubt we can manage to arrest him, and attempting to do so--- and failing--- will only frighten the others. Doux Miquel is elderly and in ill health; he will not live much longer, and the problem will resolve itself. In the mean time, I think a few bribes, or gifts rather, will be enough to placate the others."
The Spymaster lit up at the word "bribes" while the Steward shifted uncomfortably.
"No!" shouted the young marshal; this was his first crisis. "We should teach the Occitan's a lesson and force them to comply with our demands."
"Tsk tsk, such rashness. He is far too young to be on the Council." both the Chancellor and Spymaster thought, sharing a look of disapproval that while hidden from the others, was obvious to each other.
"I advise that we imprison the Doux, to show that we will not compromise. If he escapes, fine, then we will destroy him on the field of battle. I also advise that we use our soldiers in a show of force against the other traitors."
The Chancellor and Spymaster once again shared a look of disapproval. The Steward winced at the cost. The Court Chaplain stared blankly; he was still preoccupied by thoughts of the Contessa.
The Emperor thought about it. He remembered the blackmailers. "They did that because they didn't fear me. I must teach them to fear me again!"
[URL=http://s1327.photobucket.com/user/MapleLeaf16/media/ImprisonArmeniacon_zps1a58c961.jpg.html][/URL]
Never tell me the odds!
Next update will probably be on the weekend.
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