Arm of Iron: House de Hauteville AAR
- Thread starter High King Peredain
- Start date
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I used 1043 as a scapegoat year for setting several things up, so that's partially the reason for its length. As far as years spanning as many chapters as 1043? Not if I can help it.
1044 should be short, with 1045 following something similar. I believe 1046 may be longer than them but that remains to be seen.
I really enjoyed your latest chapter, though I haven't read it unti now because I didn't get the notification. Interesting to see the potential discord between the Empires in East and West, as well as William's place in the ever changing regional politics. I also enjoy how he handled the treacherous lord. Great job!
Oh your AAR also started on 1043? Great start date my friend. I actually picked that date because the Normans (as well as the Seljuks) were on the rise during that year, which would make things interesting (it certainly has on my run). I considered doing a de Hauteville run myself, but you seem to be doing much better justice than I would have. Will keep watching!
No worries. I have plenty of catching up to do myself on some of the AARs here, though that and the next chapter will have to wait as I deal with some IRL things unfortunately. As far as discord goes, I will look eagerly to writing that, as it most certain to grace this timeline's chronicles, and the two emperors themselves will prove rather fun given their traits. For the Lombards these politics are nothing new, but for these "newcomer" Normans, they'll have to figure out how the game is played and fast. Fortunately, one of them knows it very well.
Heribert was decent exploration for any potential supporters of the princes after the falling out...at least for a character not in the game anywhere. Looking back, I'm starting to wish I gave him more time in that scene.
Initial pick was 1042 but Maniakes seemed hellbent on ending those games every time I started. Not that this current strategos isn't a threat, but he is far more manageable. The Seljuks in this run are surprisingly of little consequence. The ERE on the other hand...are taking alt history to its limits. I did consider some other Norman families. Roger de Tosny comes to mind.
Great work with the Bagratids. I haven't had time to catch up but from some skimming it seems like things got interesting with that family.
I have to say, I enjoyed reading about a man unashamed to pursue his own brand of justice. Iron Arm wields the authority of his station as a tool rather than a crutch - he's harsh when he's crossed, but he's not going out looking for justification to club people over the head with his title. You get the sense he would have done the same thing to the recalcitrant town leader regardless of being a count (if provoked, I mean). I guess one might say he has an iron will... and rules with an iron fist...
Funny that people seem to see Iron Arm as Stannis. To me he seems to have more of a sense of humor than Stannis did, but I haven't read the books so perhaps I don't have a real understanding of the character. I would say you can probably watch seasons 4 and 5 of GoT and still have a good time, but the show was such a massive disappointment in the end that I really can't recommend getting back into it. You'd just be setting yourself up for heartbreak.
Ah, same! I'm glad I'm not the only one this happened to (though, on second thought, that's actually a bad thing). Hopefully by commenting the notifications thing will sort itself out!
Funny that people seem to see Iron Arm as Stannis. To me he seems to have more of a sense of humor than Stannis did, but I haven't read the books so perhaps I don't have a real understanding of the character. I would say you can probably watch seasons 4 and 5 of GoT and still have a good time, but the show was such a massive disappointment in the end that I really can't recommend getting back into it. You'd just be setting yourself up for heartbreak.
Ah, same! I'm glad I'm not the only one this happened to (though, on second thought, that's actually a bad thing
). Hopefully by commenting the notifications thing will sort itself out!
I have to say, I enjoyed reading about a man unashamed to pursue his own brand of justice. Iron Arm wields the authority of his station as a tool rather than a crutch - he's harsh when he's crossed, but he's not going out looking for justification to club people over the head with his title. You get the sense he would have done the same thing to the recalcitrant town leader regardless of being a count (if provoked, I mean). I guess one might say he has an iron will... and rules with an iron fist...
Funny that people seem to see Iron Arm as Stannis. To me he seems to have more of a sense of humor than Stannis did, but I haven't read the books so perhaps I don't have a real understanding of the character. I would say you can probably watch seasons 4 and 5 of GoT and still have a good time, but the show was such a massive disappointment in the end that I really can't recommend getting back into it. You'd just be setting yourself up for heartbreak.
Ah, same! I'm glad I'm not the only one this happened to (though, on second thought, that's actually a bad thing
I'm glad you enjoyed it. As far as the authority of his station goes, well the next chapter will shed a bit of light on that. I decided to follow the historical approach a bit of the early Counts of Apulia. Stannis has a dry wit in the books, though it is spaced out between them. William's humor is...I want to say on the darker side of things but he did try to make a connection between being gored by a boar and the word gory so I don't know about that.
Well then...after many real life issues among others (I am considered essential) the next chapter will be up today. There were a few distractions I must admit, that being starting the Accursed Kings books (still on the Iron King) and When Christ and His Saints Slept (early Plantagenet book series). Despite my best efforts Mount and Blade II: Bannerlord early access did indeed halt my editing process more than intended
.
Chapter 7~October (1043 AD)
CHAPTER 7
Firenze, Italy
October, 1043 AD
They resided in Firenze, where Heinrich deigned to be hosted. They had entered through the gates of the old walls—Roman in their design, where another awaited them, the stone having not been taken by nature as opposed to its counterpart. Commerce was Firenze's wife; the river known as Arno its mistress, at times beguiling it, and at other times vengeful when affection went to the wife. Her risings made her master of their misery.
The city belonged to that of one Bonifacio di Canossa. His lands stretched from the north at the foot of the Alps to the south that bordered Molise. Centered in the city was that of a palace, flanked by tall square towers. They had passed through the gardens on the outside, host to flowers of all manner of vibrancy, green from the stem down, coated in dew.
The wife of Bonifacio had William and Alienora shown their bedchamber, merged rather than separate.
A chest in the corner, a table, walls draped in red tapestries from the East, and a bed with hangings attached to the canopy that could be drawn to keep sunlight in the morn from its denizens.
Yet the morn belied a storm within the palace.
His wife’s face was of a ruddy complexion from face to neck.
“When were you to tell me?” her lips were set in a thin line.
“What do you speak of?” came William’s reply. He was to play Odysseus to her Scylla and Charybdis.
To this she shook her head and muttered under her breath in the tongue of the Greeks.
She reached for her coin purse and drew a gold solidus from the top. It was gold and thin, bearing the image of the king that sat the throne of the City of the Greeks: Konstantinos Monomachos.
William averted his eyes.
“When were you to make known to me that this was taken from pilgrims on the routes leading to Sipious? I am no fool, William. I hear what is spoken, and they speak of a man of Osulf’s descriptions and a band of knights. Coin, clothing...trinkets, all taken before these men ride off to some fortress they have made their abode. Months of this brigandry!"
“You make much of little. It is a time of peace, where men grow restless. What would you have me say? Tell them to cease such matters?”
He would have admired her will if she did not desire to bend him to her will. To make him the lesser in their union. It was not the way of things. He was the husband, not her.
“Are you not their count? Husband, your sin is not solely yours. Whether known to me or not, it has become mine own. Make this right!”
William set the basin down, his hands and face still wet from their washing.
He could not tell her the truth of things, that his title was nothing more than that. That her father was more count than he.
In the truth of things he and his brothers were no different from these robber knights and lords, but perhaps she knew that. Yet Rainulf could scarcely call himself their better in that at one point.
Hard times required men of iron. The allure of his castle had not been long on her, nor Melfi itself. Perhaps that was why she tested him so.
“I have told you my will. Let us be done with this incessant quarreling,” he said, reaching for the cloth next to the basin. He began to dry his hands and face. It was when he was done that he reached for her hand, but she withheld it and turned from him.
“If it pleases you, it will not be long before I send for them. Then I shall never do such evil again.”
Alienora made her way to the table and sat, cupping her face in her palms. There was an air of disquiet between husband and wife before she pulled them away.
“Pretty words,” she said. “You tell me such pretty words and reveal to me nothing of what I asked. Then there is the girl Werndrut that comes when I am absent at the behest of her ‘father’. Does she share your bed, is it that I share it scarcely that you seek to humiliate me in this manner? Gerbert is your regent, and I am nothing but your trinket to be shown off. Speak to me, William; tell me what cause I have given you for this injury.”
“I have broken none of my vows, and you will not suggest as such! What madness takes you, that I would do as such and bade misery upon you? I will not be at fault for your feelings of inadequacy.”
He had taken to pacing to and fro, his countenance bearing no smile but drawn into a deep frown. The chair Alienora seated herself in scraped against the stone as she rose and turned to him.
“Madness?! Is it madness for a wife to expect her husband’s trust? No, that is not so William. I will not be at fault for your own inadequacy as a lord,” she gazed at him with a look he imagined was disdain.
“Careful with your tongue. A lesser husband would strike you for such an insult,” he had turned his eyes to her, his gaze cold to her fire.
Disdain became contempt. For a time he saw her bite her lip, then she made for the door. Her hands shook as she reached for it, and she shook her head. Without looking at him she said, “You are a horrid man under the guise of a good one.”
It was when she was gone that he sat at the foot of the bed. He was still as a statue. He was not sure how long he sat there, thinking, thinking, thinking. Osulf had acted at his behest~~to recoup the loss to his coffers from his wedding, to endear men to his cause with the promise of wealth for his future campaigns into Apulia and to further his plans of strengthening his comital authority.
Ere long his contained fury abated, and he told himself that it was for a good cause. Hard times required men of iron.
No price is too great, he thought.
Alienora would have to learn that theirs was a precarious situation. Betwixt two great empires was to be betwixt Scylla and Charybdis.
Firenze, Italy
October, 1043 AD
They resided in Firenze, where Heinrich deigned to be hosted. They had entered through the gates of the old walls—Roman in their design, where another awaited them, the stone having not been taken by nature as opposed to its counterpart. Commerce was Firenze's wife; the river known as Arno its mistress, at times beguiling it, and at other times vengeful when affection went to the wife. Her risings made her master of their misery.
The city belonged to that of one Bonifacio di Canossa. His lands stretched from the north at the foot of the Alps to the south that bordered Molise. Centered in the city was that of a palace, flanked by tall square towers. They had passed through the gardens on the outside, host to flowers of all manner of vibrancy, green from the stem down, coated in dew.
The wife of Bonifacio had William and Alienora shown their bedchamber, merged rather than separate.
A chest in the corner, a table, walls draped in red tapestries from the East, and a bed with hangings attached to the canopy that could be drawn to keep sunlight in the morn from its denizens.
Yet the morn belied a storm within the palace.
His wife’s face was of a ruddy complexion from face to neck.
“When were you to tell me?” her lips were set in a thin line.
“What do you speak of?” came William’s reply. He was to play Odysseus to her Scylla and Charybdis.
To this she shook her head and muttered under her breath in the tongue of the Greeks.
She reached for her coin purse and drew a gold solidus from the top. It was gold and thin, bearing the image of the king that sat the throne of the City of the Greeks: Konstantinos Monomachos.
William averted his eyes.
“When were you to make known to me that this was taken from pilgrims on the routes leading to Sipious? I am no fool, William. I hear what is spoken, and they speak of a man of Osulf’s descriptions and a band of knights. Coin, clothing...trinkets, all taken before these men ride off to some fortress they have made their abode. Months of this brigandry!"
“You make much of little. It is a time of peace, where men grow restless. What would you have me say? Tell them to cease such matters?”
He would have admired her will if she did not desire to bend him to her will. To make him the lesser in their union. It was not the way of things. He was the husband, not her.
“Are you not their count? Husband, your sin is not solely yours. Whether known to me or not, it has become mine own. Make this right!”
William set the basin down, his hands and face still wet from their washing.
He could not tell her the truth of things, that his title was nothing more than that. That her father was more count than he.
In the truth of things he and his brothers were no different from these robber knights and lords, but perhaps she knew that. Yet Rainulf could scarcely call himself their better in that at one point.
Hard times required men of iron. The allure of his castle had not been long on her, nor Melfi itself. Perhaps that was why she tested him so.
“I have told you my will. Let us be done with this incessant quarreling,” he said, reaching for the cloth next to the basin. He began to dry his hands and face. It was when he was done that he reached for her hand, but she withheld it and turned from him.
“If it pleases you, it will not be long before I send for them. Then I shall never do such evil again.”
Alienora made her way to the table and sat, cupping her face in her palms. There was an air of disquiet between husband and wife before she pulled them away.
“Pretty words,” she said. “You tell me such pretty words and reveal to me nothing of what I asked. Then there is the girl Werndrut that comes when I am absent at the behest of her ‘father’. Does she share your bed, is it that I share it scarcely that you seek to humiliate me in this manner? Gerbert is your regent, and I am nothing but your trinket to be shown off. Speak to me, William; tell me what cause I have given you for this injury.”
“I have broken none of my vows, and you will not suggest as such! What madness takes you, that I would do as such and bade misery upon you? I will not be at fault for your feelings of inadequacy.”
He had taken to pacing to and fro, his countenance bearing no smile but drawn into a deep frown. The chair Alienora seated herself in scraped against the stone as she rose and turned to him.
“Madness?! Is it madness for a wife to expect her husband’s trust? No, that is not so William. I will not be at fault for your own inadequacy as a lord,” she gazed at him with a look he imagined was disdain.
“Careful with your tongue. A lesser husband would strike you for such an insult,” he had turned his eyes to her, his gaze cold to her fire.
Disdain became contempt. For a time he saw her bite her lip, then she made for the door. Her hands shook as she reached for it, and she shook her head. Without looking at him she said, “You are a horrid man under the guise of a good one.”
It was when she was gone that he sat at the foot of the bed. He was still as a statue. He was not sure how long he sat there, thinking, thinking, thinking. Osulf had acted at his behest~~to recoup the loss to his coffers from his wedding, to endear men to his cause with the promise of wealth for his future campaigns into Apulia and to further his plans of strengthening his comital authority.
Ere long his contained fury abated, and he told himself that it was for a good cause. Hard times required men of iron.
No price is too great, he thought.
Alienora would have to learn that theirs was a precarious situation. Betwixt two great empires was to be betwixt Scylla and Charybdis.
———
A council of five men was to be hosted in the rightmost tower's chambers. It was to consist of William, Azo, Bonifacio, Rainulf, and the esteemed Emperor of the Romans himself.
The chamber hosted a table long in shape, congruent on all sides, with chairs that matched its reddish-brown color. Two flagons and several cups had been centered on it. A hearth found a home in the back of the chambers, though remained untouched.
The walls were adorned with frescoes of the Virgin Mary and the three Magi. A smaller table near the rightmost corner played host to its sole occupant. Upon William's entrance Rainulf looked up from his dice.
He beckoned him over.
"I am beginning to wonder what befell you, what with such a sour look," he procured another set of dice, placing them on William's side of the table.
They were roughmade, of animal bone, and appeared balanced compared to the common dice one often played with.
The younger man shook his head and said, "Your daughter is what befell me. What I thought to be a timid woman, is one that is vicious and spiteful."
A faint smile graced Rainulf's countenance. "She has always been bold of tongue and perhaps a milder me. A worthy heir in all save for being born a woman,"
His smile faded as he said, "Her brother is more his mother's blood."
Such words could not compare to William's growing consternation. Rainulf was the first to roll his dice.
"Yet you said she was to be no trouble," William said. "Then you speak of this. She may well think herself the man in our union!"
Rainulf stroked his beard, and there was the lupine grin William came to loathe.
"She has taken no other men to her bed, has she? I would think I told you the truth of the matter."
William was the next to roll, and for a time they were content to cast their dice. A brief silence fell over the Normans as they sought to see which of them had triumphed over the other.
Rainulf extended a hand.
William placed a few solidus in it. They did not need to turn to hear the door open behind them, nor the three men that entered.
Heinrich was black-bearded, shorter than the average man, and blackened hair that had been cut short so that none fell below his neck. He possessed a strong jaw and an austere face that changed little in the time William had known him. His brows were perpetual in the way they tugged downward, so that his countenance was displeased at all times.
HIs eyes fell between the dice before moving to the two men, though his expression spoke for him~~his lowered brows. The Emperor of the Romans took his seat at the head of the table. The Normans moved to join him at the table, where Azo had seated himself since his own arrival.
“Begin,” Heinrich raised a hand in Bonifacio’s direction.
The Tuscan's eyes moved between each man.
“I will get to the heart of it. The matter of the Greek king and his claim to be ‘true’ Emperor of the Romans, his spurring of His Imperial Grace in lieu of good diplomacy as a ‘barbarian’, and the matter of the Greeks and the good threat they pose to the Eternal City itself. His Holiness has expressed his concern in this, that the episcopal churches follow not the Latin rite but the Greek rite.
“His Holiness has expressed his desire to see to the matter personally alongside His Imperial Grace, but matters of the Holy See restrain him. His blessing is assured, however. There remains the matter of raising men for this endeavor on your side.”
“Men are of no issue,” Rainulf said. “ Many seek lands of their own; some capture them as we speak. It is you and yours that concern us. Your last emperor achieved little. Heinrich in your tongue?”
“Though he bears his name, His Imperial Grace will prove an erstwhile ally,” Azo smiled. “He will not withdraw from either siege or use words for his ends. It is the sword that is his weapon.”
Heinrich’s eyes had settled on Rainulf at the mention of his father's predecessor. William eyed him. His jaw had clenched tight during the exchange. Yet he made no retort. None as always. Had he married his sister to a weak man?
“Men of the sword do not require that others speak for them,” Rainulf grinned.
Now William’s eyes were on his father-by-law.
The daughter is not far from the father, William thought.
Then they were on Heinrich. His face was reddened, and his mouth opened, but Bonifacio was quicker of tongue.
“We do not speak for him, rather we speak to assuage your doubts, Count Rainulf. Let us return to the matter of things...as the day is short, yet no small number of things I must attend.”
Perhaps Rainulf has some greater purpose in this incessant provocation?
William perished that thought in favor of speaking when a brief silence settled upon the five men.
“They appoint men to rule specific lands, and these men appoint those under them to govern their fortresses; those along Apulia’s coast are particularly well-fortified. We besieged them several times but it was no different than a man climbing the highest of mountains, laden with baggage. Barion is the highest of these mountains, ruled by a man known to me. He is the son of Melus. Perhaps you know him as the Lombard that was defeated at Cannae some decades prior and fled. Argyrus betrayed his father’s cause and made peace with the Greeks for title and coin. He aids a Greek known to me as Basileios in defending this ‘Langobardias’ as it is known to them. Basileios rules from much of Apulia and all Calabria.”
Bonifacio’s head bobbed up and down slowly. “You eye these coastal towns?”
“A siege is greater trouble than a sally. Basileios will rally men from these towns and hold out with these men until he receives aid from the City of the Greeks.”
The five men were left to ponder on their own at this, and William poured a cup of wine for each of them in this time of silence. Each man took his cup and drank. When it was done they continued on another matter, one that was of Rainulf’s making: the matter of their lands.
And what would you seek from the Emperor?” Azo filled his cup for the third time.
“To put ourselves as lords in his name. We speak of our own gain, but what of his beyond a display of arms?” Rainulf said.
At this Azo appeared stunned. It was not long before William did much the same. Heinrich made three.
“That...I do not...it is best to discuss such a matter when things have settled,” Azo said, after he had taken a long sip.
“This pertains to our plans, does it not? The princes will eye our realms when they are done with their petty war. The might of Rome would give them pause.”
“I will discuss it with His Imperial Grace. If there are no other matters, this council is adjourned.”
Azo looked to Heinrich.
Rainulf did as well. “What does His Imperial Grace make of this? Is he not the emperor of an illustrious empire, able to take his own counsel?”
Heinrich’s eyes fell to him then Azo.
“I w-will take my own counsel,” he said in a voice that matched his countenance. “And yours into consideration. Azo, this council is a-adjourned.”
Azo eyed Rainulf, but the deed was done. All others left save two...and both had been the first to arrive.
“What foolery was that?” came William’s voice.
“Foolery? If I am to throw my cause in with you, I would rather our odds be favorable than not.”
He held up a hand as William went to speak.
“It was years before you and your brothers, Boy. Cannae was a disastrous affair; it was a great slaughter where many a Norman met his end on that field, Lombard too. I lost kin. Gilbert, Osmond. A host so great in number that it was hardly easy to flee from,” Rainulf’s hand clenched his cup tight.
“These emperors are fickle. They must cross the Alps and the Apennines, but their enemy lies within. A rebellion and this Heinrich will subdue it before he aids our cause. What then when you besiege these towns and such a great Greek host arrives? Some small victories and you think yourself a Caesar! No, it is the appearance of land ripe for the taking that will ensure his aid. If he breaks his oaths, then we make ourselves free once more."
“And if he does not? Would you have us pit against two emperors?”
Rainulf set down his cup and leaned forward.
“He places much power in the hands of this Bonifacio, and it is known to me these southern lords have never been too keen on German rule. These kings--German and Greek, I would think, are not as powerful as they would have you think. Pretty words and the sword are well, but it is possession of a clever mind that will see you ascend. I would have you know this.”
"And know it I do," William said. "But this is a great risk you take, and I am inclined to take no part in it. He is wed to my sister. That alone assures me."
Rainulf waved him off with a hand and said, "Then do not. Perhaps this man that sits the throne of Saint Peter will render this all for naught."
Rome had gone well, but there had been talk of discord between Heinrich and Benedictus; one sought to exert his imperial authority over the appointment of priests, and the other ecclesiastical authority over them. People spoke of squabbling, in which Heinrich had denounced such authority in a fit of rage, and the Vicar threatened excommunication.
The outcome of this squabble reminded William once again that he had little control over much of anything that occurred. For the Normans they were no great players in the region.
Time and chance, he thought.
All he needed was time and chance...then he could spur himself above them all. But chance was fickle and time awaited no mortal.
A council of five men was to be hosted in the rightmost tower's chambers. It was to consist of William, Azo, Bonifacio, Rainulf, and the esteemed Emperor of the Romans himself.
The chamber hosted a table long in shape, congruent on all sides, with chairs that matched its reddish-brown color. Two flagons and several cups had been centered on it. A hearth found a home in the back of the chambers, though remained untouched.
The walls were adorned with frescoes of the Virgin Mary and the three Magi. A smaller table near the rightmost corner played host to its sole occupant. Upon William's entrance Rainulf looked up from his dice.
He beckoned him over.
"I am beginning to wonder what befell you, what with such a sour look," he procured another set of dice, placing them on William's side of the table.
They were roughmade, of animal bone, and appeared balanced compared to the common dice one often played with.
The younger man shook his head and said, "Your daughter is what befell me. What I thought to be a timid woman, is one that is vicious and spiteful."
A faint smile graced Rainulf's countenance. "She has always been bold of tongue and perhaps a milder me. A worthy heir in all save for being born a woman,"
His smile faded as he said, "Her brother is more his mother's blood."
Such words could not compare to William's growing consternation. Rainulf was the first to roll his dice.
"Yet you said she was to be no trouble," William said. "Then you speak of this. She may well think herself the man in our union!"
Rainulf stroked his beard, and there was the lupine grin William came to loathe.
"She has taken no other men to her bed, has she? I would think I told you the truth of the matter."
William was the next to roll, and for a time they were content to cast their dice. A brief silence fell over the Normans as they sought to see which of them had triumphed over the other.
Rainulf extended a hand.
William placed a few solidus in it. They did not need to turn to hear the door open behind them, nor the three men that entered.
Heinrich was black-bearded, shorter than the average man, and blackened hair that had been cut short so that none fell below his neck. He possessed a strong jaw and an austere face that changed little in the time William had known him. His brows were perpetual in the way they tugged downward, so that his countenance was displeased at all times.
HIs eyes fell between the dice before moving to the two men, though his expression spoke for him~~his lowered brows. The Emperor of the Romans took his seat at the head of the table. The Normans moved to join him at the table, where Azo had seated himself since his own arrival.
“Begin,” Heinrich raised a hand in Bonifacio’s direction.
The Tuscan's eyes moved between each man.
“I will get to the heart of it. The matter of the Greek king and his claim to be ‘true’ Emperor of the Romans, his spurring of His Imperial Grace in lieu of good diplomacy as a ‘barbarian’, and the matter of the Greeks and the good threat they pose to the Eternal City itself. His Holiness has expressed his concern in this, that the episcopal churches follow not the Latin rite but the Greek rite.
“His Holiness has expressed his desire to see to the matter personally alongside His Imperial Grace, but matters of the Holy See restrain him. His blessing is assured, however. There remains the matter of raising men for this endeavor on your side.”
“Men are of no issue,” Rainulf said. “ Many seek lands of their own; some capture them as we speak. It is you and yours that concern us. Your last emperor achieved little. Heinrich in your tongue?”
“Though he bears his name, His Imperial Grace will prove an erstwhile ally,” Azo smiled. “He will not withdraw from either siege or use words for his ends. It is the sword that is his weapon.”
Heinrich’s eyes had settled on Rainulf at the mention of his father's predecessor. William eyed him. His jaw had clenched tight during the exchange. Yet he made no retort. None as always. Had he married his sister to a weak man?
“Men of the sword do not require that others speak for them,” Rainulf grinned.
Now William’s eyes were on his father-by-law.
The daughter is not far from the father, William thought.
Then they were on Heinrich. His face was reddened, and his mouth opened, but Bonifacio was quicker of tongue.
“We do not speak for him, rather we speak to assuage your doubts, Count Rainulf. Let us return to the matter of things...as the day is short, yet no small number of things I must attend.”
Perhaps Rainulf has some greater purpose in this incessant provocation?
William perished that thought in favor of speaking when a brief silence settled upon the five men.
“They appoint men to rule specific lands, and these men appoint those under them to govern their fortresses; those along Apulia’s coast are particularly well-fortified. We besieged them several times but it was no different than a man climbing the highest of mountains, laden with baggage. Barion is the highest of these mountains, ruled by a man known to me. He is the son of Melus. Perhaps you know him as the Lombard that was defeated at Cannae some decades prior and fled. Argyrus betrayed his father’s cause and made peace with the Greeks for title and coin. He aids a Greek known to me as Basileios in defending this ‘Langobardias’ as it is known to them. Basileios rules from much of Apulia and all Calabria.”
Bonifacio’s head bobbed up and down slowly. “You eye these coastal towns?”
“A siege is greater trouble than a sally. Basileios will rally men from these towns and hold out with these men until he receives aid from the City of the Greeks.”
The five men were left to ponder on their own at this, and William poured a cup of wine for each of them in this time of silence. Each man took his cup and drank. When it was done they continued on another matter, one that was of Rainulf’s making: the matter of their lands.
And what would you seek from the Emperor?” Azo filled his cup for the third time.
“To put ourselves as lords in his name. We speak of our own gain, but what of his beyond a display of arms?” Rainulf said.
At this Azo appeared stunned. It was not long before William did much the same. Heinrich made three.
“That...I do not...it is best to discuss such a matter when things have settled,” Azo said, after he had taken a long sip.
“This pertains to our plans, does it not? The princes will eye our realms when they are done with their petty war. The might of Rome would give them pause.”
“I will discuss it with His Imperial Grace. If there are no other matters, this council is adjourned.”
Azo looked to Heinrich.
Rainulf did as well. “What does His Imperial Grace make of this? Is he not the emperor of an illustrious empire, able to take his own counsel?”
Heinrich’s eyes fell to him then Azo.
“I w-will take my own counsel,” he said in a voice that matched his countenance. “And yours into consideration. Azo, this council is a-adjourned.”
Azo eyed Rainulf, but the deed was done. All others left save two...and both had been the first to arrive.
“What foolery was that?” came William’s voice.
“Foolery? If I am to throw my cause in with you, I would rather our odds be favorable than not.”
He held up a hand as William went to speak.
“It was years before you and your brothers, Boy. Cannae was a disastrous affair; it was a great slaughter where many a Norman met his end on that field, Lombard too. I lost kin. Gilbert, Osmond. A host so great in number that it was hardly easy to flee from,” Rainulf’s hand clenched his cup tight.
“These emperors are fickle. They must cross the Alps and the Apennines, but their enemy lies within. A rebellion and this Heinrich will subdue it before he aids our cause. What then when you besiege these towns and such a great Greek host arrives? Some small victories and you think yourself a Caesar! No, it is the appearance of land ripe for the taking that will ensure his aid. If he breaks his oaths, then we make ourselves free once more."
“And if he does not? Would you have us pit against two emperors?”
Rainulf set down his cup and leaned forward.
“He places much power in the hands of this Bonifacio, and it is known to me these southern lords have never been too keen on German rule. These kings--German and Greek, I would think, are not as powerful as they would have you think. Pretty words and the sword are well, but it is possession of a clever mind that will see you ascend. I would have you know this.”
"And know it I do," William said. "But this is a great risk you take, and I am inclined to take no part in it. He is wed to my sister. That alone assures me."
Rainulf waved him off with a hand and said, "Then do not. Perhaps this man that sits the throne of Saint Peter will render this all for naught."
Rome had gone well, but there had been talk of discord between Heinrich and Benedictus; one sought to exert his imperial authority over the appointment of priests, and the other ecclesiastical authority over them. People spoke of squabbling, in which Heinrich had denounced such authority in a fit of rage, and the Vicar threatened excommunication.
The outcome of this squabble reminded William once again that he had little control over much of anything that occurred. For the Normans they were no great players in the region.
Time and chance, he thought.
All he needed was time and chance...then he could spur himself above them all. But chance was fickle and time awaited no mortal.
He is learning an important lesson about his wife. Now let us see if he can actually use this knowledge to thier greater benefit. Possibly not, but it will be interesting to see.
One would hope he puts it to good use. That envious trait might find steady income in the future.
Oooh, how interesting to see a sign of discord between husband and wife. Excellent chapter, hopefully the alliance with the Holy Roman Emperor will prove useful!