Before Plantagenet – A House d’Anjou AAR

[JabberJock14]

Before we get to responses, first let me apologize for my delay. Been busy with work - and that work requires a lot of writing. That, in turn, zaps my energy to do a lot more writing of these chapters, so a more lengthy delay happens. Not that I haven't been working on it at all... but when I'm doing extra writing for work in my spare time, I have less energy to put a chapter all together. Hopefully, the next chapter will be out in the next couple of days. Again, apologies, and thanks for your patience.

On to your comments!

I wonder if at some point Geoffrey will come to the defense of Ermengarde. Of all the things he can be he is devoted to his family. And Flanders would be nice piece of real estate to possess.

At first I was annoyed at Agnes but as I read on I feel she did the right thing. Killing Gillies was too easy and quick. While he tries to not show it I think being bested by Geoffrey will gnaw at Gillies and also the fact that Agnes became so much more without him than she would have if he married her.

Oh, I'd love a justification to steal more land. But there are more interesting targets that would serve Geoffrey's interest more. And I didn't have a good Casus Belli.

I was a little surprised by the desire to see Gilles killed by the comments here! And here I thought I was making Geoffrey all tyrannical - but you all understood his anger better than me! And yes, I think Agnes realized at the end she came out of that disaster the better of the two, by far, which despite always kind of knowing that, seeing Gilles allowed her to finally accept it.

Gilles' capture really lifted Geoffrey's spirit - but merely ransoming him will probably return the king to be preoccupied with his death. Still, one can understand Agnes, especially as that little discussion in private gave her the chance to finally close that chapter for good.

And so it ended, the house of Poitou. A long time coming, then it merely vanishes, mostly beyond notice of everybody else. The Breton's curse was powerful, but I wouldn't say that the Angevins escaped it. It manifests differently, strikes in form of disease lately. Who knows when or if it will truly end.

Castration would have been so satisfying for Gilles though. You could have achieved it by mutilating - Geoffrey could have come for his manhood. That would have been worth a reload if necessary .

It had good reason to lift his spirit - while Geoffrey accomplished more than his father from a political standpoint, there was always that condition - Foulques never wanted what Geoffrey wanted when it came to a kingdom. But here? Foulques would have loved to humiliate his nephew like this. That Geoffrey succeeded is perhaps the first thing he's done that he knows his father desired... and never was able to accomplish in that manner. It is a real victory for Geoffrey - a small victory that probably feels like one of his greatest.

In some ways, it is fitting and realistic. Few grand houses went out in a blaze of glory. Most slowly ebbed away in obscurity after losing most of their power. And so it was with the House de Poitou - done in by the offspring of the cast off sister to the Duke. And whether the Angevins escaped the curse... that is always up for interpretation. Yours is quite valid.

Hmmm... I think I would have had to leave him in the dungeons until I got that? Geoffrey isn't cruel, so I don't know the option would have come up. Had he been in Foulquesson's hands though...

Press F for the House of Poitou.

And it seems both Geoffrey and Agnes have buried the hatchet with their leching cousin, in their own seperate ways.

With Agnes it was closure and acceptance - even if she knew she had done better for herself. Geoffrey... it's complicated. I think he wanted him dead but upon reflection, would be mostly satisfied with the outcome.

We are (as sometimes happen in this AAR) with contrasting scenes in the dungeon which serve as bookends for this update. First a corpse, and finally a conversation. A conversation that did not happen and (in a fashion) led to the discovery of the corpse. There is something ... appropriate ... in all of that.

The highlight for me was the discussion between Agnes and her sister, and between her and Geoffrey after court. With Ermengarde there was quite a lot of humour - a nice lightening of the mood before the starker tones of what followed. I especially chuckled at this exchange:

The conversation with Geoffrey though, that was more of a deliberate dance, slow moving yet full of purpose. And, dare I say it, potentially lethal. I find it interesting that Geoffrey misread his sister so thoroughly, but then Agnes does diagnose the cause: he saw everything through the lens of his perspective. And that lens has become ever more tightly focused. In this was have yet another example of how he misreads the situation. It is, dare I say, becoming an increasingly frequent occurence. Almost as if his disease is sapping his faculties - or is it his power corrupting his perceptions - or some combination of the two.

If something were to happen to Agnes before he passes, he will - I think - take the loss very badly.

As for Gilles - there is a remarkably unsatisfactory air about the entire business. I have a tendency to think of it is something from the past, when Agnes (and Geoffrey) were so much smaller - lesser - as people. In the intervening decades they have both grown, and grown in so many ways their persons are now giantesque compared to their former selves. And yet in their imaginations this lickspittle from the past loomed large, but it turns out it was shadowplay. He has not grown, but remained the same imp-like soul (as a side note Ermengarde, of small appearance, is clearly great-souled). Now shorn of all illusions and in the glare of the court and gloom of the dungeon casting no shadow, Agnes, and Geoffrey when Agnes makes him see it, can see Gilles is a mote of dust compared to them. And it annoys that so much thought and energy has been spent on such a pathetic excuse for a Lord.

Such a great comment. Thanks!

As was the intent with the bookends. And in some ways, there was a corpse at the end - Agnes rather eviscerated in a way he is not accustomed to.

I did enjoy that Ermengarde/Agnes conversation and it was one of the big reasons I was glad you got me thinking on doing this chapter from her point of view. Originally I imagine this conversation with Geoffrey but it would never have worked as well just as brother and sisters who were never that close. While Agnes is old enough to be Ermengarde's mother (Beatrice *is* eight years older than her), the relationship can be closer and more open. It actually gave Agnes a chance to cut loose - in a way I restrain her - even with Essa there's some holding back because there's some level of distrust. With Ermengarde, who grew up under Agnes in a lot of ways? Much different.

Whereas the Geoffrey conversation is one that could be more emotional and raw, given their relationship. There were lines that still could not be crossed... but it was very much something that worked far better from her perspective. Geoffrey's selfishness has always been a flaw - but it's something that has always been worse with those he cares about. It's ironic in a way - but since he interacts with those he cares about the most, they are most immune to his placating. They've seen it before. They know what to expect.

And yes, his illness is sapping his skill to a degree. But I leave it open as to whether that's due to the illness itself ... or because his impending death has left him more selfish and self-absorbed. The stress of it all bringing out his worse qualities.

You are very right on Gilles having been the same as before. Very smug, arrogant and seemingly completely undeserving of such a high opinion of himself. (Though, in his own way, he has conquered more than any other Angevin, even besting his cousin - but as Foulquesson says, it is not lands that are his focus). The pair have aspired to so much more, interestingly in Agnes' case, perhaps in part because of her humiliation. I think Geoffrey sees a bit of foolishness of it at the end, though the enjoyment of having outdone his father remains.

Agnes... Agnes is complicated. It is very much seeing how far she has come versus how little he has... and in court, I think it bothers her. Very much of... I spent so much of my life waiting for this... and this is it? It does give her little fulfillment.

It is only after, when she realizes what could have been, that her mood lifts. A waste worrying about him, but a reminder it did not stop her from achieving so much more. And perhaps, a tacit admission from Gilles that she is something unique - so much so that she might have dragged him to greatness. As mentioned in the other responses, it is not so much that she didn't know that - it's that confronted with it in this circumstance, the point is driven home.

Again, love your analysis here! Thank you!

I was going to say something, but @stnylan said everything I was going to and more. Gilles is ultimately nothing, and he will be nothing. Aside from his truly charming personality, his tragedy is that he did not grow or change, even though he's had opportunities to do so. His life is meaningless, while Geoffrey's and Agnes' have meaning. They will be remembered, at least in some fashion. Gilles will be forgotten forever, a worse punishment than anything Geoffrey could do. (And would you look at that, I said I wasn't going to say anything and then I said something. Stnylan still said it better, though.)

It was a most excellent answer.

That realization of Gilles ultimate fate certainly plays a role in Agnes' acceptance at the end. It also kind of serves toward a bookend to the events of at the start of the chapter - House Poitou fading away, most of its members forgotten. In some ways an impressive feat, given their own gifts to start.

And yes, you definitely did say something, and said it well! Why it never hurts to comment!

Some theatrical catharsis there, perhaps for more than just Agnes, too. When she did spare him from death, I thought Geoffrey might have thrown him in Patricia’s old cell in the oubliette. But that is a pretty big ransom if it is forked out!

I agree, it is more for Agnes, but she was much more the aggrieved party.

It sure is a nice ransom, but it wasn't the reason I took it! It really was kinslayer that stopped me, even though Geoffrey could have taken the hit in retrospect. I was very, very, very tempted to kill him. But once I decided against that, the money was a nice alternative.

Well as Roman Emperor I took over the whole map with one guy and made a one culture and religion state with ridoculous wealth and stability. Even tech levels, little revolts, the place was pretty good and would probably be OP as hell comverted to EUIV.

However, a note on immortal rulers. It used to be the case, through abusing the character creator, to have a very long lived ruler with ridiculous vassal opinion due to long ruler bonus. However, this is no longer the case. After a certain point, you get the ruled too long negative boost to opinion. So eventually you'll have a stat god emperor but everyone wants to kill him. And immortality does not save you from assasiantion. So the game literally becomes about either keeping yourself alive by playing the poltical game even harder or trying to get an heir of yours immortal as well.

He's got the stats... let's hope he put them into intrigue???

At that point though, unless I were going hard into roleplaying, or doing some time of mass conquest I'd probably just try to get my ruler killed. Seems like it would be boring to simply rule - especially in CK2, where inheritance and dynasties is the crux of the game! (EU IV, ironically, probably is better suited for immortal rulers since if you get a good one, you'd just set it and forget it while you paint the map.)

a very touching chapter.... some wounds would never be healed

Thanks! This was one of my favorite chapters I've written. It was something that was a long time coming... and felt like some payoff for a plotline introduced so, so long ago. I mean, it was back when Beatritz was still alive!

Phew! Caught up on the last 4 chapters. It was great to get a chapter from Marguerite's POV. Still a great AAR and I eagerly look forward to seeing what comes next!

Thanks, and I'm glad you enjoyed Marguerite's POV. I'm sorry that I've kept you waiting on what's next though! Hopefully the wait will be at an end in the next few days.

Again, to all, thanks for your patience. I've written the vast majority of the next chapter, though I've still got to tie it together a little more neatly. I still have work stuff to do as well, but it shouldn't be as hectic as last week.

Your comments remain excellent, and I'm grateful for them. And for your patience in my response!

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Before we get to responses, first let me apologize for my delay.

???

If it has been less than a year since your last post then there is no delay on this forums.

EU IV, ironically, probably is better suited for immortal rulers since if you get a good one, you'd just set it and forget it while you paint the map.)

My point. Its another reason to start a late game ckii match just to try to get around rhe hell thst is ruler ststs in euiv.

 

[Specialist290]

Before we get to responses, first let me apologize for my delay. Been busy with work - and that work requires a lot of writing. That, in turn, zaps my energy to do a lot more writing of these chapters, so a more lengthy delay happens. Not that I haven't been working on it at all... but when I'm doing extra writing for work in my spare time, I have less energy to put a chapter all together. Hopefully, the next chapter will be out in the next couple of days. Again, apologies, and thanks for your patience.

No worries The real world must, unfortunately, take precedence.

 

[stnylan]

No worries The real world must, unfortunately, take precedence.

Absolutely.

 

[JabberJock14]

???

If it has been less than a year since your last post then there is no delay on this forums.



My point. Its another reason to start a late game ckii match just to try to get around rhe hell thst is ruler ststs in euiv.

No worries The real world must, unfortunately, take precedence.

Yeah, sometimes it can drain on you. I can't complain about the work itself, but lots of writing/editing can tire you out.

Also I saw someone updated the TV Tropes page. If that was you, thank you! And if it wasn't, then thank you to whoever did!

Absolutely.

Thanks for your understanding!

And as hoped, the next chapter is ready. It's not quite got the emotional punch of the previous chapter, but still is part of the larger tapestry of the story. And got to showcase me trying to write a CK2 special teacher event - always fun! Though I'll say this one played into Geoffrey's character more than some events I've seen in other games/stories, so I'm grateful for that.

Hope you enjoy! And thanks once more for your support and patience!

 

[JabberJock14]

Before Plantagenet - Chapter 204
November 1123 - Bordeaux, Kingdom of Aquitaine

A mild November day had Bordeaux in a lively mood.

The narrow streets were crowded, likely because the previous week had been a mix of cold, wet days that made staying outside miserable. Though those rains did have a benefit - it swept away much of the waste, lots of it human, from the streets, making the air a bit more breathable.

Merchants sold their wares, some men made their way to one of the baths, while others went about their business, working, buying food or enjoying a brief moment of respite from their tasks.

It was a world Geoffrey was not wholly unfamiliar with - he used to come to Bordeaux more often when he first ascended in Aquitaine, along with Alias and Prince-Bishop Leonard. They would frequent the baths, with Geoffrey often helping himself to a woman who would join him. Other times they would simply tour the city, looking over merchant wares and having items they enjoyed purchased.

There would be none of that today, however, as Geoffrey moved through the crowded streets. Prince-Bishop Leonard was dead, of course, having passed within weeks of Geoffrey’s ascension in Anjou, and Alias was back in the keep.

And unlike those previous times, Geoffrey kept himself cloaked as he walked. It was not that he did not care to be seen in public - but today it was more important he wasn’t.

For he traveled on this day with the girl Tisi, who also walked cloaked to keep herself hidden. Geoffrey feared she would be considered an oddity… as well as potentially giving away his identity in the process.

She had wished to walk Bordeaux today for some sort of lesson - something that she hoped would help Geoffrey learn what “Karma” was. Tisi had explained it as basically doing good deeds helps good things happen, now or in the future, or so Geoffrey understood.

Of course, if I had fully understood it, there would be no need for this lesson, he thought.

As they walked, his eyes would drift toward the sights of the city, before returning to his small companion, who was easy to lose given her tiny stature.

One such moment was when he saw a woman coughing violently a few yards away from him. He spied she held a rag that was bloodied upon her finishing - consumption no doubt.

The vile illness had continued to spread, though Geoffrey himself felt oddly unthreatened by it. Perhaps, he wondered, I might be more content to be taken by that than leprosy.

It was an odd and morbid thought to choose the horrid method of one’s passing, but Geoffrey put it from his mind as he quickly searched for Tisi again, finding her after a few moments.

“So, what is it that you wished to show me here?” Geoffrey asked. “And I assume it means I have not fully grasped what you have tried to teach me.”

“You will see,” Tisi said. “But do not worry. Many do not understand what I have tried to teach you. In fact, I would say very few do. They simplify it to suit their needs. But the truth is more complicated.

“What do you mean?” Geoffrey asked.

“Those who do not understand reincarnation simply believe that Karma is produced when you do an act,” Tisi said. “But it is more complicated than that. There is nothing that you do that does not have an effect. Every thought, action, reaction or non action… words, said or unsaid. It is a balance, and even thoughts can throw one off balance.”

As someone who had spent far too much time with his thoughts in recent years, especially in light of his illness, those words resonated with Geoffrey. His success in the war against Orleans, and Gilles specifically, had partially restored him. And yet, he was not whole.

“And how do you achieve this balance?” Geoffrey asked.

“You must not only try to achieve it in your acts, but in everything,” Tisi said. “It is not easy - as we think much faster than we can act. Gaining that bit of control… it is no small feat. But it is important for good deeds yield sweet fruits, Punya, unkindness brings spoiled fruits, Paap.”

They continued to walk along, Geoffrey spying the world around him - the sights, the smells… more pungent than he was used to in the keep.

It grew especially so as they turned past a stall and down an alley. Naturally cautious, Geoffrey kept his guards near the entrance to the ally, but still did venture down behind Tisi.

The smell grew worse, as the alcohol and… vomit… yes it was vomit… filled his nostrils and overtook his senses. Geoffrey held back the bile in his own throat, as Tisi stopped at a doorway.

The source of the stench was present there as a man in tattered clothes slept away, snoring loud enough that Geoffrey did not understand how he did not hear him before he entered the alleyway. Bearded, disheveled… a true mess of a man, all Geoffrey could do is shake his head.

“This man,” Tisi said. “I met him when I wandered the town a few weeks ago. His story is a sad one - he was a merchant, but his business partner cheated him of his hard-earned savings and then bribed those at the guild to overlook the crime.”

“Why… why was I not aware of this?” Geoffrey asked.

“You are a powerful man, King Geoffrey,” Tisi said. “But you cannot see all or hear all. There is much that happens, even in your own kingdom, that you shall never see or hear of. Everyday people have much to deal with and little of it is considered of importance to a lord, let alone a king.”

Geoffrey shook his head. A humbling thought… and a frustrating one as well.

It was not as though Geoffrey was opposed to suffering - he had inflicted humiliation upon his cousins in the past. But they had deserved it… this man… what had he done?

“He was cheated,” Geoffrey said. “So… he turned to drink?”

“He did,” Tisi said. “He found no escape, so he sought to create one. And this is the result. Do you not feel for him?”

Geoffrey did. He knew what is was like to be swept up in events beyond his control - and it was a feeling he despised more than almost anything else. He remembered when he learned of his illness… or when his son died…

But he also remembered how he reacted. It took time with his illness, but he had not surrendered - even if his enemies expected him to. And with his son… he had shunned the forces who had betrayed him - a bold move even secretly forsaking the church as he had… and resolved to take control of his own fate, come what may.

It was what this man, for all the wrong the world had done to him, had not.

“This man suffers, and I understand his despair,” Geoffrey said. “But… he should have persevered. Life will often be cruel - and it is on us to make do the best we can.”

“A harsh assessment,” Tisi said, accusing in her high-pitched voice. “Surely your heart aches for him.”

“I have suffered the loss of my greatest treasure,” Geoffrey said. “And shall be never be made whole again. The riches of the world will never return my son to me.

“And the health and glories of my youth. Such things fade with time… never will I taste them again. I have lost much, Tisi. I know this man’s pain. It is not undeserved. But he has given up… and that is something I refuse do.”

Tisi nodded. “Wise words, King Geoffrey. Most people understand the value of compassion and a good deed, but few understand the true meaning of honesty. Before we can grow, we must learn to accept our failings. You have taken the first step on the journey.”

Tisi turned and began to walk back to the street. Geoffrey hurried after her, though he did turn to look back to the man, still passed out in a stupor by the doorway, oblivious that anyone had even seen him, let alone spoken of him.

“What shall happen to him?” Geoffrey asked.

“Perhaps he will realize what he must do,” Tisi said. “Or perhaps he will wallow in his suffering until his life leaves him. I do not know.”

“You don’t?” Geoffrey asked.

“I have many memories of the past,” Tisi said. Then she smiled. “But I do not see the future.”

And then she returned to the street, with Geoffrey continuing to follow, the guards again a few paces behind. The king shook his head. A lesson learned… a step taken. Perhaps the next one would be easier… or at least easier on the senses.

…..

That evening, Geoffrey enjoyed the company of his youngest sister, Ermengarde, who had remained in Bordeaux longer than he expected.

He did not press her on when she was departing for Flanders - he had little desire to upset his sister when he did not particularly care for her husband or his court at the moment. But it was a curiosity to him.

She had spent a great deal of time around their sister Agnes, which Geoffrey guessed may have been Ermengarde trying to learn what she could from her. Then again, perhaps it was simply wishing to be around family - and Agnes was the only sister she could be around, given her other half-sisters were all wed to the other claimants to the Frankish crown and all involved in this three-way struggle.

Either way, she was present, and all and all pleasant company for the rare moments Geoffrey was with her. He was again impressed she had become this strong of a woman while being a dwarf, but, as she was his sister, perhaps it was not that surprising.

“How have you been enjoying your stay, my dear?” Geoffrey asked.

“I did not think I would miss Bordeaux as I have,” Ermengarde said. “But now that I have been gone… the weather is nicer. The people are more respectful… and the wine…”

Geoffrey smirked and raised his cup. “Now there is something I am proud of.”

“You are proud of much, brother,” she said. “And rightfully so. You achieved much… far more than these others lords who vie for the Frankish crown. Even my husband.”

“You know how to flatter me,” Geoffrey said.

“Well I am your sister,” Ermengarde said. “I learned from a master.”

“You refer to me, or our sister Agnes?” Geoffrey asked.

Ermengarde smiled, though it proved ephemeral. Soon a frown replaced it and she looked into her drink.

“Is something wrong, sister?” Geoffrey asked.

“Geoffrey… I begin to fear for your life,” Ermengarde said.

A chill went down his spine. “And why would you have such concern sister? Have you heard something?”

“What I have heard… and seen, is this girl that you now associate with,” Ermengarde said. “A heathen who thinks herself the soul of people long dead? Where do you think this leads, brother?”

To that, Geoffrey did not know. He had little hope of securing eternal life as had been perhaps his original goal. But the thought of possibly living on, in some form, was appealing. And what if, somehow he managed to come back as his own grandson?

It seemed unlikely, but perhaps he and Tisi could discover more…

“I am uncertain,” Geoffrey said. “I search for something. An answer.”

“An answer to what?” Ermengarde wondered.

He was not about to say “relief over his impending demise” to his half-sister. He thought well of her - but that level of trust was reserved for only his inner circle.

“It is difficult to explain,” Geoffrey said. “Suffice to say, I am curious of what she knows. I listen, and I judge. I assume nothing.”

“It is a relief to hear you say that,” Ermengarde said. “But I have a request.”

“And what would that be?” Geoffrey asked.

“Let me spend some time with her,” Ermengarde said. “We shall ride down the banks of the Garonne. I will learn her true intentions.”

On one hand, Geoffrey did not wish to chase away Tisi. Then again, if she could not handle skepticism, then how useful of a teacher could she be? Especially since she presented herself as someone who had lived for centuries, despite being a child.

“If that would put your mind at ease,” Geoffrey said. “It is better safe than sorry after all.”

“Thank you, brother,” Ermengarde said. “I will not let you down. You have my word.”

…..

The matter of Tisi was quickly put from mind however, as Geoffrey found little reason to distrust her. Plus, he had other things to focus on.

Geoffrey had remained away from his army in the months following Gilles capture, and subsequent release. He had been feeling a bit run down in recent months - his energies not where they were.

Was it age? Was it his illness? Either way, he had been persuaded by Alias and Marguerite to remain in Bordeaux for a time.

But now he was preparing to return. And that meant he wished to know where things in the kingdom stood before he handed things over to Marguerite once more.

And so few days later, Geoffrey stood in his strategy hall in a meeting with his council, along with the queen and Agnes.

Most of the meeting was mundane things, which Alias and Agnes could certainly handle. However, Guilhem had promised important news from their brothers, which Geoffrey was eager to hear.

“First the good news,” Guilhem said. “Foulquesson and Herve defeated a small group of Berry raiders, whom he had chased into Dauphine. It was a simple task, with few losses.”

Geoffrey nodded. “Perhaps Orleans will be forced to the table soon. Their meagre forces are being run down.”

“There have been no overtures yet,” Adhemar noted. “Perhaps they wait for something.”

My death, Geoffrey realized. That had to be the answer, given they had no chance at victory.

“What do my other brother, or brothers say?” Geoffrey asked Guilhem.

“Word from Ancel in Chalons,” Guilhem said. “It will be known soon but… his wife is dead.”

There was a gasp or two from the council. Even Geoffrey was wide-eyed. The countess was young and he had not heard she was sick. Though he did know she was pregnant…

“Has something happened because of the child she carries?” he asked.

“Perhaps indirectly, but it was murder,” Guilhem said. “She was enjoying a meal with her ladies by a stream and was attacked by bandits.”

“Poor luck then?” Alias asked.

“But nothing was taken from her corpse,” Guilhem said. “Some of her remaining guards did chase them off, but to not make off with anything value? And make certain she was dead by cutting her throat - something that was not done for any of the women with her? I find that unlikely. And so does Ancel. He is rather distraught given she was his wife… and they were certain she was having a boy this time.”

Geoffrey frowned. “Any suspects?”

“Many,” Guilhem said. “Including her own sister. But no answers. And it seems unlikely there will ever be any.”

That drew a shake of the head from Geoffrey, as well as some of the councilors. “Then my niece… Almodis is it, rules? Does Ancel have say?”

“He seeks to establish himself, given his daughter’s young age,” Guilhem said. “I have offered him what aid I can… but I think he falls under the influence of our cousin, Duke Simon.”

Geoffrey obviously preferred Ancel relied on him, or at the least, Guilhem. It was a means to bring another county under the control of Aquitaine.

Simon was a trickier situation. Geoffrey remained estranged from his cousin, since their falling out over Geoffrey’s plan to destroy the Kingdom of the Franks. Not that Simon would be able to harm Aquitaine, but it was frustrating.

Of course, Ancel had never fully forgiven Geoffrey for seizing Charolais from Charlotte for Herve. So an estranged brother finding an ally in an estranged cousin made some degree of sense.

“See if you can sway him toward us,” Geoffrey said. “He is your full brother. Perhaps he will listen to you. And between yourself and the Duchess Essa, you can offer him more than Simon does.”

“I will make my best effort,” Guilhem said.

Geoffrey looked to his spymaster, Thomas of Limousin. “Thomas, see what your people have heard on this matter. If we can find something, perhaps we can use it to bind my brother and niece to us once more.”

“It will be done,” Thomas replied.

Geoffrey nodded and then looked to the rest of his council. “Anything else to note?”

“The consumption outbreak is spreading,” Alias said. “There are reports in Saintonge, as well as more falling ill in and around Bordeaux.”

“Shall we close the gates to the keep?” Adhemar asked.

Geoffrey shook his head. “We are fighting a war. There is still much to do. Beyond that… it is a sign of fear. We are not cowards.”

Adhemar nodded. “As you wish, my king.”

Geoffrey looked to Alias. “I do not expect this war to last much longer after I take the field once more. After which, I wish for a large gathering to be prepared.”

“Is that wise?” Adhemar asked. “Given the consumption outbreak?”

“Considering it shall be my son’s introduction to the realm?” Geoffrey said. “I would think it is important enough. As I said, Adhemar, we will not live in fear. And the lords need to meet their future king.”

“It cannot wait,” Alias said. “It would have been done when the prince turned 12 years of age… had it not been for this war.”

“But if it waited this long,” Adhemar began.

“No,” Geoffrey said. “Outbreaks can take years to burn out. When the war ends, we shall move forward. And if you wish to hide in your keep while your nephew and future king is celebrated… that is your choice.”

Adhemar’s eyes widened, momentarily. Then he nodded and lowered his head. “Of course… my king. I shall aid you in whatever way you or the prince require… and shall be there for the celebrations.”

With that the meeting was ended, and Geoffrey moved to speak with Alias, though he was pulled away by the queen, away from everyone.

“My brother has a point,” she said. “We should not expose ourselves to this illness pointlessly.”

Geoffrey resisted rolling his eyes. “Locking down the keep and going into isolation harms us. We cannot take part in the wider world. We show ourselves cowardly and fearful. It is not acceptable.”

“But what if… what if our children fall ill?” Marguerite asked.

They were words that sent a chill down Geoffrey’s spine. He had lost one son already. Could he dare risk his other children as well?

“There are illnesses about everywhere, at all times,” Geoffrey replied. “Are we to hide forever?”

Marguerite frowned. “Do you not care for the risk?”

“I care… but…”

“But not enough to listen to us,” Marguerite said.

She glared at him, and when he did not respond, she stormed off, leaving Geoffrey to grind his teeth and shake his head.

She doesn’t understand why this is important, he thought. We fight this war because others think me weak… think that we are false in the strength we project. If she does not understand this… how will she lead our son?

“Adhemar is a troublemaker,” Alias said. “At his most dangerous, he her mind.”

Geoffrey was pulled from his thoughts to look at his old friend. “So you eavesdrop.”

Alias shrugged. “I feel compelled to listen to what she says, given our future situation.”

Geoffrey sighed. “Adhemar is fearful. As is his nature - he has never been brave. And so he preys upon my wife’s great fears - she lives for our children. Truly. She would do anything to protect them, even if it may be harming them in the long term.”

“Aye, and what you said is right,” Alias said. “It could take years to burn out. And if he wishes to hide, he can. What’s more, it will make us look weak if he cower here.”

“And we have enough problems these days with projecting our strength,” Geoffrey said. “No. We will move forward… when this war is over.”

“And I shall make it an event to remember,” Alias said.

“We need to,” Geoffrey said. “I am grateful my son nears manhood. But we must be certain he can handle what is to come - I am not sure his mother can. He must be able to rely on himself… as well as you and Agnes.”

“What must be done?” Alias asked.

“When I depart, I wish for you to have a watchful eye on him,” Geoffrey said. “Your sons are with him - press them on how he acts… how he thinks… what he says. We must know. And we must groom him right. And to do that, I must know more of him.”

It was strange to say that about one’s own child, but the fact was Geoffrey had spent so much of his time away from Bordeaux, he did not interact with his son that much. And even when he was present, there was always something to do, something else to focus on… perhaps he should resolve to make more time upon his return.

“It will be done,” Alias said. “We will not fail him. You have my word.”

Geoffrey nodded. “And I can ask for nothing more.”

….

That evening, Geoffrey sat alone in his chambers. He was reading a history transcribed by the monks on the first Roman Emperor Augustus.

The tale of the man who was once Octavius and rose to become the most powerful man in the world was one Geoffrey knew well - he had tried to emulate much of it in his youth, but he focused much more on the end of the emperor’s life these days, for obvious reasons.

After all, what better man to look toward to see how to transition power from one ruler to the next than the one who established a new tradition? There was no emperor of Rome before Augustus and there did not have to be an emperor after him - just as there had not been a king of Aquitaine for centuries before Geoffrey… and there did not have to be one after.

Tiberius, perhaps did not make the most of it all. But that would be on the young prince Geoffrey to improve upon. The key was Tiberius was given a chance… and that’s all the king could provide his son.

A knock on the door caused him to put the book down. Upon investigation, Geoffrey saw his sister Ermengarde, and he offered her a seat at his table and a cup of wine.

“Did I disturb you?” she asked.

“I was reading histories,” Geoffrey said. “It is something I have not done enough of in recent years… it is much harder to do while away with my army. Now, what is on your mind?”

“It is about Tisi,” Ermengarde said. “Please forgive me. It appears I was mistaken. From everything I have seen, Tisi is trustworthy and knowledgeable. Do forget everything I have said. I am sorry if it has caused you any trouble.”

Geoffrey’s brow rose. “What has led to this change of heart?”

“I spent time with her,” Ermengarde said. “She is… wiser than I most I have spoken to. I say it is surprising, given she is a child, but then perhaps I do not associate with enough wise people.”

Geoffrey smirked. Ermengarde was certainly his favorite of his half-sisters.

And in some ways it was a reminder to him of Tisi’s lesson from the other day. Perhaps no one embodied it more than Ermengarde - who was born a dwarf, considered a monster by some and looked at with scorn and mistrust. Even Geoffrey himself was naturally inclined to look at her negatively, given her dwarfism.

But he didn’t. She persevered - she sharpened her wits, steeled herself against the barbs that struck her and made the best of her life.

In the process, she had proved herself no monster, but a beautiful woman… one he was rather tempted to try to bed though his experience with Bella, as well as his illness, stopped him.

Still he admired her, and thought well of her mind. It only further assured him he was headed down the right path.

“Thank you sister,” Geoffrey said. “Your words hold great meaning to me. For as you say, wisdom is in short supply and you have it in abundance.”

Ermengarde blushed. “I think you overstate things, but I thank you anyway, brother.”

“I overstate nothing,” Geoffrey said. “You are a special woman. We are grateful to have you here, among us, once more. And forever long you wish.”

“You are kind to offer,” Ermengarde said. “But I already had plans to return to Flanders. In truth, I extended my stay because I was curious of Tisi… and concerned. But my fears are at ease and I can return home.”

“This is your home,” Geoffrey reminded her. “Those there… they are not your people.”

“They are not,” Ermengarde said. “But my eldest is there. And that is enough. I have been away from him for too long. If I remain away for much longer, he might start to believe their lies about me.”

Geoffrey nodded. “I understand sister. Know that you are always welcome here.”

“I do,” Ermengarde said. “And it gives me strength. I thank you for that… and my time here. It has been wonderful.”

“Likewise, dear sister,” Geoffrey replied. “Likewise.”

 

[Jokerang]

And Geoffrey is one step closer to immortality. I wonder if he can get to it before leporsy gets him first.

 

[tpmcinty]

I wonder where the interaction with Tisi will lead. One thing I have learned in CKII nothing comes without a price. With an epidemic on the horizon and Geoffrey not shuting the gates it makes me wonder even more.

 

[stnylan]

One wonders what sort of man he will become, were he to live forever. Already he forever mourns his son's death. But were it to succeed, he would mourn the death of every child, grand-child, great-grand-child ....

I wonder if he understands this way there is only grief.

 

[guillec87]

Immortally... Nah, he will reincarnate

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Mm. Interesting times.

 

[alscon]

Perseverence clearly is an important trait, not just of Geoffrey, but of most if not all main characters - even if Geoffrey lost it for a moment, he always keeps going in the end.

 

[Bullfilter]

Nicely handled and some good lines throughout. Geoffrey grows a bit - though can’t completely shed his old thoughts and habits - yet, anyway. Had it not been for his illness and fear of a disgusted rejection, he may well have put the hard word on his half-sister. Incorrigible!

 

[PVT Ascoobis]

Another step on the road to eternal life. It may be a bit late but at least Geoffrey is learning some valuable life lessons in the process.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Whilst there are significant problems with this medieval morality, at least there is consistency and wisdom G can learn from his experiences. He is a very clever man at the end of the day, possibly one of the smartest in France. If nothing else, he should probably try to write a law code or something before his death. That would certainly give him immortality in a different sense.

 

[JabberJock14]

And Geoffrey is one step closer to immortality. I wonder if he can get to it before leporsy gets him first.

I was wondering myself. He had decent luck to this point - I had some leper characters just kick off very soon after the diagnosis. But his luck... well... it's going to turn in the near future. And not just with his illness.

I wonder where the interaction with Tisi will lead. One thing I have learned in CKII nothing comes without a price. With an epidemic on the horizon and Geoffrey not shuting the gates it makes me wonder even more.

It's very true - nothing comes for free. And yeah, I figure I had to make note of that not closing the gates thing. Cause well... it was a rather fateful decision on my part. Largely because I've grown to hate losing the interactions with seclusion and the eventual food shortage. So I decided to tough it out. And it proved to be quite tough indeed.

One wonders what sort of man he will become, were he to live forever. Already he forever mourns his son's death. But were it to succeed, he would mourn the death of every child, grand-child, great-grand-child ....

I wonder if he understands this way there is only grief.

I don't think Geoffrey would handle it well, to be honest. He's grown attached to those around him - even someone in Marguerite whom he would not have expected to a few decades before. It's Geoffrey's nature to make those connections and having them severed, one by one, would be agonizing. And then to do it all over again with each generation? Not good for one's sanity.

Immortally... Nah, he will reincarnate

That's the direction it's looks to be heading - Tisi talks plenty about it! But there's still plenty in his way to even reach that.

Mm. Interesting times.

Agreed. The final third of Geoffrey's reign was really a lot more interesting than his father's end, which only picked up in the final couple of years. (And even that took work to make interesting). Geoffrey has plenty interesting going on without my meddling.

Perseverence clearly is an important trait, not just of Geoffrey, but of most if not all main characters - even if Geoffrey lost it for a moment, he always keeps going in the end.

It's true. That's why I chose that option out of the three - it felt the most like Geoffrey. I actually thought option one was the one the game wanted... but it turned out Geoffrey gets Karma better than I do!

Nicely handled and some good lines throughout. Geoffrey grows a bit - though can’t completely shed his old thoughts and habits - yet, anyway. Had it not been for his illness and fear of a disgusted rejection, he may well have put the hard word on his half-sister. Incorrigible!

Thanks. This immortality quest does give good traits, though you're pretty much doomed to die at the end of it unless you stop it at the right point - though that can be hard if you go in blind.

I did consider having him try to seduce Ermengarde. Ultimately I decided against it because one taboo relationship was enough for this story. (at least for now)

Another step on the road to eternal life. It may be a bit late but at least Geoffrey is learning some valuable life lessons in the process.

Yup. Lessons perhaps learned too late in some cases. Or not learned fast enough in others.

Whilst there are significant problems with this medieval morality, at least there is consistency and wisdom G can learn from his experiences. He is a very clever man at the end of the day, possibly one of the smartest in France. If nothing else, he should probably try to write a law code or something before his death. That would certainly give him immortality in a different sense.

That's quite wise. He should have had you on his council. In some ways though, if he can establish a strong Aquitaine that lasts for centuries, he will achieve immortality in that sense. And he will certainly have outshone his father, which has long been his goal, doing it through his methods. (Although Foulques would likely tell him that constant war he's been fighting for the better part of the decade shows that the Iron Duke's way ultimately was the route he chose, even if G won't admit it)

To all - thanks as always for your comments. The next chapter follows and we do another POV shift for the next two parts - to that of Prince Geoffrey. I had originally intended just to give him the chapter after this one but... I realized quickly that didn't prove enough to establish what I wanted from him. And this chapter is long too - I guess I wanted to start getting him in the limelight. So you don't have to read it all in one sitting!

A small side note - one of the events in this chapter is NOT a repeat/reuse of old screenshots. It really did happen again . You'll know it when you see it.

 

[JabberJock14]

Before Plantagenet - Chapter 205
May 1124 - Tours, Kingdom of Aquitaine

“Plantagenet!”

Prince Geoffrey d’Anjou heard his name as he dunked his head in the trough full of water. He came up, long brown hair soaked and eyes closed as he shook the water out. A mild stinging followed as he looked out at who had called his name - ironic perhaps as he was not wearing his hat at the moment.

His trainer Knud was usually a fine guess, but he was not present at the moment. Besides, he never called him by that nickname.

The courtyard in the keep of Tours was far from empty on the afternoon, as today there would be no less than five dukes present on the premises - as well as King Geoffrey himself. Some had come to enjoy the warm afternoon, and others to see the sparring exercises put on, with the prince taking part in them. Either way they were more numerous than he was used to, and at a loss to figure who had called for him.

Thankfully, the prince had assistance.

“My brother,” Berard de Perigord told him. “In fact, he makes his way toward us.”

The boy pointed out to Geoffrey the teen approaching in leathers, sword and shield in hand. So the prince responded in kind, closing the distance while armed himself. Berard, as he often did, followed Geoffrey close.

“What do you want, Alberic?” Geoffrey asked.

“Knud sent for me to find you,” the heir to Perigord replied. “He grows tired of watching you trounce poor Berard and thinks you should see a real opponent.”

The prince raised a brow and glanced back at Berard, who had his head down. The prince’s friend had, as usual, provided poor opposition for their training sessions.

But then most of the boys Geoffrey’s age did so. Knud called the prince gifted with the blade - a compliment Geoffrey cherished given his family history. His father had never lost a battle, and his uncle was feared throughout the realm of the Franks. He had a great legacy to live up to.

“So… if I am to fight a real opponent,” the prince began. “Who am I to face?”

Alberic eyed him. “Your wit is matched only by your arrogance, Plantagenet. I suppose it will do you a great service to be humbled here today, in front of these good people.”

“You should be careful,” Berard warned. “They already speak of Prince Geoffrey as having the potential to be a great knight, like his father and grandfather.”

“And you angle hard to be his squire, yes?” Alberic asked his brother. “Or short of that, his toadie?”

As Berard’s face reddened, the prince rolled his eyes. Despite their banter, he had no real problems with Alberic, nor visa versa. They did not see each other that frequently - Alberic was often in Perigord these days as, nearly of age, his father wished for him to be greatly involved in the affairs of the county. Soon he would be there almost permanently acting as his father’s regent, after all.

But he did know Alberic never passed on an opportunity to harang his younger brother. Berard was nearly always by Geoffrey’s side, and at only 11, was forced to endure much from his older brother.

“I should let Berard have the honor after these insults,” Geoffrey said. “But I suppose if it is Knud’s wish, I shall honor it.”

“Knud will be here shortly,” Alberic said. “We shall begin then.”

And with that, they moved toward the dueling small ring, outlined by rope Knud had laid down, where they would spar. They were not alone as many in the courtyard now gathered in anticipation of the match.

Not the least of whom were the boys Geoffrey grew up beside.

It was a full entourage that had traveled to Tours - the group of boys from Bordeaux of high birth who were roughly his age.

Most prominent among them was the nine-year-old Ancel, son of Duke Foulquesson and Duchess Beatritz, and thus both cousin and nephew to the prince - small lad who had been made to suffer the complaints of his father for not faring better sparring against boys older than him.

There was also Alberic and Berard’s cousin, Jorge de Perigord, Alias’ nephew by his brother - a brother who had been murdered with no suspect being brought to justice. The prince had heard the count himself had ordered it, but tried to put such thoughts from his mind.

And then there were the prince’s cousins - the sons of Ness de Limoges. Her eldest, Eduoard, was a bastard, son of the late Count of Narbonne and nearly a man.

Also present was her son Centolh, by her husband Rogier, who was a few years younger than the prince. Her youngest, also named Rogier, was back in Bordeaux, having been laid up with consumption, though his treatment had him faring better than might have been expected.

And it wasn’t just the boys who travelled to Tours.

“My sister watches,” Berard noted as he pointed out young Ana de Perigord.

The eldest daughter of Count Alias, Ana was Geoffrey’s age and not promised to anyone - a fact Berard harped on endlessly. It mattered little that the prince himself had a wife in the waiting - a princess of England no less, but it appeared the young man wished to push his sister on Geoffrey.

Ana was pretty enough… but Geoffrey’s eyes were almost always on another. And to his joy, she was present as well.

That someone was Duchess Anne of Gascony - his aunt by marriage to his blood uncle Adhemar. Just the sight of her left the prince’s heart racing and his blood pumping to… places he was not used to it going.

Now I must win, he thought. She can see how well I can fare against even someone older and bigger than me.

A strong tap to the shoulder broke the prince’s attention. He looked up and saw the imposing figure of Knud before him.

His trainer arrived, as he usually did for these sessions, dressed in mail and wearing a helmet of Norse style with nearly his whole face covered. With his thick accent, he gave off the idea of the Vikings of old - though not one of the people in the courtyard had seen a true one - they were already fast becoming the stuff of legends.

“Your eyes are on the wrong person,” he warned. “You should be watching your opponent. See how he is acting, thinking… every moment could provide you with some knowledge to aid in defeating him.”

Alberic is hardly a fighter, was Geoffrey’s primary thought. Even if he was taller and, likely physically stronger, Geoffrey guessed he should be able to beat him with his superior skill.

But should proved more difficult than the prince expected when they began.

The problem for Geoffrey was even if he were superior with a blade, the reach Alberic had over him was proving difficult to manage.

So his attacks were often beaten back, leaving him on the defensive. A particularly bad miss saw Alberic nearly catch him across the chest, but Geoffrey managed to stumble back just in time, drawing a few “oohs” from the onlookers.

Rather foolishly, Geoffrey looked to Anne, who had her eyes wide, and nearly got hit across the face by Alberic’s blade, just barely avoiding it, but was caught in the chest by his shield, knocking him back.

Oh no…

Geoffrey felt the grip slip from his boots, and the feeling of falling overtook him. His sword and shield slipped from his hands in the process. And he knew was beaten.

Only, he wasn’t.

Alberic was slow to react, smiling broadly and looking out at the crowd gathered. He even shot Berard a look as if to say “is this your princely hero?”

And that act of bravado allowed Geoffrey to snag his shield and sword quickly, thankfully they had not gone far, and scramble back to his feet.

“You wish for more, Plantagenet?” Alberic asked.

The answer was Geoffrey raising his sword and closing the distance. Only as he got within a few feet of Alberic, he suddenly raised his shield and charged forward, crashing into his foe.

Alberic was caught off guard, and though he recovered his balance, Geoffrey had closed the distance between the two. The prince’s sword finally got good use as he quickly attacked to keep his opponent on the defensive.

Then Geoffrey moved to execute a grand flourish, a stylistic attack to finish off his opponent and play to the crowd. It left him open, and Alberic no doubt thought it easy to counter.

But in truth, it was a feint, and when Alberic did move to counter, Geoffrey sidestepped and hit Alberic across the back with his shield. His momentum going forward, Alberic stumbled forward onto the ground, face first. Losing his shield and sword, he was helpless and before he could even turn over, Geoffrey had his blade pressed to the back of his neck.

Granted, dull practice blades could not cut much of anything - but the point was made. Alberic yielded and the crowd cheered.

“HAIL Prince Geoffrey!” Berard shouted in his high-pitched voice.

Geoffrey’s cousins, Eduoard and Centolh soon joined in, and the prince caught sight of Ana, who blushed. But Geoffrey was most interested Anne, who raised her chin and nodded in approval, small grin on her face. Once more, he felt his blood rush forth…

….

“You need to do better,” Knud told him as they stood in the armory.

“I won,” Geoffrey replied.

“Against a foe who wasn’t a fool, you would have lost,” Knud warned. “You can pray for good fortune on the battlefield… but eventually your luck will run out.”

A chill ran down the prince’s spine. After all, he knew full well his brother Foulques had been wounded badly in combat, left a cripple… and perhaps died from it. And in truth, he knew he had been fortunate.

“I recovered, didn’t I?” Geoffrey asked. “I could have given up.”

“You wished to avoid humiliation,” Knud said. “A powerful motivator. I suppose then you are fortunate I decided not to chastise you in front of the crowd then.”

Geoffrey lowered his head. He had not thought about that…

“Badgering your future king?”

Geoffrey looked over to see Count Alias standing by the armory’s entrance, along with Berard. The prince could not resist a smirk, even if he knew Knud was right.

“Good,” the count added. “The king expects no special treatment. For when the boy has to rule, the world shall not give him anyway.”

And the smirk became a frown.

“You can tell his father his skill improves,” Knud said. “But that he has much to learn. And that he should come watch these sparring matches himself some day.”

“The king is quite busy,” Alias said. “He hopes with this war’s foul business at an end, he shall have time to watch the prince, but… it is irrelevant to your job, Knud.”

Knud grumbled something under his breath, but Alias simply ignored it and continued. “In any case, tell him yourself if you so desire. He wishes to see you after the day’s business is concluded.”

Knud pointed to himself. “Over what?”

“He will say when you meet him,” Alias said. “But I suspect you shall enjoy it. For now, come my prince. Your father conducts important business and wishes you to be present in the main hall.”

The trio left Knud in the armory, with Geoffrey being escorted back to change into more formal robes.

“What will he say to Knud?” the prince wondered as they walked.

“He is impressed with the Dane,” Alias said. “He will name him one of the realm’s commanders.”

Geoffrey’s eyes widened. “So… he will be called to lead knights. And I will go with him?”

“One step at a time,” Alias warned. “We expect this war to end today. After which, we do not expect to be taking to the field any time soon. But if that changes, you may… go as well.”

To that, the prince could not resist a smile. He wished to see a battlefield. Sparring was fun… but he was nearly of age. Surely he had to see what he was in for - he would be leading armies himself one day after all.

“What of me, father?” Berard asked.

“You shall go with him,” Alias said. “As you always do. Perhaps your prince can find a place for you in his future court.”

Berard, being the second surviving son to a lord with but one county, had little prospects except to wonder if his brother might one day pass unexpectedly. And speaking of Alberic…

“Is Alberic upset over today’s sparring contest?” Geoffrey asked.

“His ego is bruised, but he shall be fine,” Alias said. “Already he speaks of how he knocked you from your feet - something few of the boys who face you have managed.”

“I reminded him that he lost,” Berard added.

“That you did,” Alias said as he mussed his son’s hair.

It was a reaction that most second sons would not have gotten. But Alias was clearly enamored with the idea that once of his sons had grown so close to the future king, so he seemed to encourage Berard’s behavior.

“So why does my father wish me to see?” Geoffrey asked.

“It is time for the negotiations over the terms of peace,” Alias said. “He wishes you to be present for them.”

Yes, Geoffrey thought. It is about time.

He had been studying under all of the council to a degree but had yet to be able to put anything into real practice by his father’s side. He had not gone on campaign during this war. He had not done much of anything when his father was back in Bordeaux with the affairs of the realm.

He had heard talk that the king was ill, but his father had not looked it. And given his actions, the prince doubted it further.

But illness or not, the prince was 13. He would be a man in his own right soon enough. It had to be time, right?

After quickly getting changed from his leathers to a formal robe, Geoffrey walked with Alias to the main hall - Berard, frowning, was sent off as he was not old enough to attend.

The main hall in Tours was less grand than Bordeaux, or even Anjou. It was with good reason of course - it had been relegated to a tertiary keep for House d’Anjou for decades now.

But there was still something that stirred the prince’s blood - even more now than when he’d visited it when he was younger. For now he had proper understanding that this is where his grandfather Foulques had decided to move against his brother, then the overlord of Anjou. It was here he had decided his course of action, here that he had decided to ally with his old enemy, Guilhem of Poitou and Aquitaine, by marrying the duke’s sister, the prince’s grandmother, Beatritz.

The success that followed - the very kingdom which the prince stood to one day rule - none of it would have been possible without that fateful decision. It made this relatively simple hall and smaller keep, in some ways, awe inspiring.

Yet there was little time to be taken aback as the hall was also where the day’s business was set to commence. And its participants were of high status… or at least high name.

King Geoffrey sat on his throne, a top the dais, and had much of his council present - Duke Adhemar, Duke Guilhem and of course, Count Alias. Duke Foulquesson was also there, wearing the mask which was quickly becoming as much a part of his mystique as it had been his father’s.

They all stood on the dais, as did Alberic, who stood a bit off to the side from the other councilors - a gap filled by Alias when he ascended. The prince was directed to stand by his father’s chair.

As he looked out and down, the prince saw the other side - the Duke of Orleans of House Taillefer, also named Foulques, was present. So too was Orleans’ brother Guillaume, for whom the claim war over Angouleme was fought, though he found himself in irons, off to the side and under the guard of Count Herve.

In that, he was not alone, for by his side was Duke Gilles, once more chained in Geoffrey’s custody.

Foulquesson had caught him and a combined force of Berry and Orleans knights, headed by Guillaume. The battle was a simple matter, with both men falling into the Duke of Brittany’s hands.

So perhaps it was no surprise that the first person King Geoffrey addressed was the fallen Duke of Berry.

“It is good to see you again, cousin,” the king said.

“You have the Duke of Orleans present and yet I remain your focus,” Gilles said. “Am I to be the subject of yet another of your grand spectacles?”

“Come now,” the king replied. “I am not one to repeat myself. The only way I would haul you back to Bordeaux and call another court like that… was if it was to end in your public execution.”

Gilles eyed him. The king smiled.

“Your son paid once,” the king said. “And for reasons I do not understand, he has paid again, though he was not kind enough to grace us with his company. Alias… is the gold in good order?”

“That it is,” Alias said.

“I do not know why he wastes his gold on you,” the king said as he shook his head.

“I saved him once,” Gilles said. “If you remember.”

“I do,” the king said. “And he returned the favor. But I thank him and you for your generosity… for you have paid for the men I have put in the field in this needless conflict.”

Gilles scowled but said nothing more. The suspected his father had little else to say anyway.

“Count Herve, escort our cousin and his party outside of the keep,” the king ordered.

“Release me from these chains!” Gilles commanded.

The king smirked. “Herve, you may do so… once he is outside of our keep.”

That drew a scowl from the Duke of Berry, but neither he nor the Berry emissaries raised any further protests. Herve then led Gilles, escorted by guards, from the main hall, his chains rustling as he shuffled away, the emissaries from Berry following along with heads down.

That bit of business taken care of, the king turned his attention to House Taillefer - in a very literal sense, as the prince soon learned.

“It is a family affair,” Alias noted as he pointed out the council with the Duke of Orleans. “All but the steward of Orleans are members of House Taillefer - and he might be a bastard. Even the duke’s master of spies is his mother.”

“Is that different than us?” the prince asked. “My uncles are member of the council, and my uncle Foulquesson is arguably the chief field commander of father’s armies.”

“But I am his steward,” Alias noted. “Thomas of Limousin is his master of spies. Prince-Bishop Emmanuel is his chaplain. You see, my prince, your father does not simply choose his family to fill roles based on blood. They have those positions because they are best equipped to handle them… especially your uncle Adhemar.”

“What makes him special?” the prince asked.

“He and your father have not always gotten along,” Alias answered. “And yet he is his chancellor… because he does well in the role. It does not mean he trusts him blindly… but he can be useful, if used properly.”

Those type of vague instructions made the prince’s head hurt. How could he use someone properly, if they were not to be fully trusted?

But he could not focus on that now. Orleans had stepped forward. The real reason for this meeting had begun.

“King Geoffrey,” Orleans said as he bowed. “Thank you for hosting us as we aim to end this strife between our lands.”

“A strife that you started,” the king noted, remaining on his throne, not bothering to greet his enemy. “But yes, let us work to put it behind us. I assume you come to us with an offer?”

“That I do,” Orleans said.

“Good, but you shall hear my terms first,” the king said. “You will renounce your claim on Angouleme. You will never return to my lands, even to pass through en route elsewhere, without permission of the King of Aquitaine. And you will pay us 200 in gold.”

“Rather generous terms,” Adhemar noted. “But it is my king’s wish for the war to end. He has more important things to focus on.”

King Geoffrey smirked at his chancellor’s comment. “Yes, this has been an annoyance. I am eager to be rid it. That said, if you wish to fight… we can oblige. But we shall not be so generous the next time.”

Orleans could not resist a smile. “Understood, King Geoffrey.”

He looked back to his entourage then turned back to the king and nodded. “Then we are in agreement,” We renounce our claim over Angouleme and pay you the sum of 200 gold. And in return, you cease the assaults on our keeps and lands.”

And with that, the two men applied their rings to the wax on the parchment, signifying the end of the agreement, though in Geoffrey’s case, it was brought to him by Adhemar, with the king not rising from his throne.

“It is done,” Orleans said. “Now, if we have no further business, I will take my brother and return to my lands, with haste. We have to focus on aiding our new king in his struggles against Valois and Flanders.”

“No,” the king said.

Orleans’ brow rose. “No? What… what is the meaning of this? You will not permit us to leave?”

“You can leave,” the king said. “Your knights can leave with you. Your brother… he stays with us.”

The rustling of metal could be heard as Guillaume sprang to his feet, only to be knocked back down by Foulquesson.

“You cannot do this!” Guillaume shouted.

“We had an agreement!” Orleans shouted. “You break your word before the wax has even dried?!”

“I break no agreement,” the king said. “We agreed to cessation of hostilities and your safe return to Orleans. We said nothing of your brother.”

“That was part of the gold paid!” Orleans exclaimed.

“No, that was restitution for the knights I have lost,” the king said as he stood up from his chair. “And for wasting the last year and a half of my life on this worthless endeavor that never had any hope of succeeding! Your punishment is lenient - I could have dragged you and your family from your keeps and mounted on pikes as a reminder to anyone who dares attack House d’Anjou.”

It was rare the prince saw his father raise his voice, or use words so threatening. And perhaps, that is what made it effective, for he could see Orleans practically shrink in place, eyes wide, face white as his body recoiled slightly.

The king returned to his chair. “The claim was in your brother’s name. You renounce it, but he may feel differently in the future. I think I shall keep him, unless you produce the gold to change my mind.”

“I…” Orleans stammered.

“Brother, please!” Guillaume begged. “Free me. Pay him what he wants.”

“What is the ransom?” Orleans asked.

“175 gold,” the king said. “To be paid in full.”

“I… cannot afford that,” Orleans said. “And he is not a lord…”

Guillaume’s face now lost all color. “Brother…”

“We can afford 10 pieces,” Orleans said.

“He is your heir,” the king said. “Surely you can do better.”

“I have given my gold to you… and we move to aid our king,” Orleans said.

“That is not my problem,” the king said. “But it is, your brother’s. For my offer is not negotiable.”

“Your foul treatment of your fellow lords shall not endear you,” Orleans warned.

The king chuckled. “As you said, your brother is no lord. Now leave us.”

“You won’t hear the end of this,” Orleans warned.

“If your levy size match your ability to waste my time you would truly be a threat,” the king said. He looked to Guilhem. “Show them out if they do not leave.”

Orleans had a guard with him, but they were far smaller in number to the many Geoffrey had in the keep at Tours and around it. Even if he wished for a fight, it would have been suicidal for Orleans to start one. So, red in the face, a trait shared by the many Taillefers in his party, he left the keep, with the guards shutting the large double doors behind them.

“I think that went well,” Alias told the king.

“Well enough,” he replied. “May he suffer some measure of regret for his actions, beyond humiliation.”

“What will you do with me?” Guillaume demanded.

The king looked down from his throne, brow raised. “Oh you. I had forgotten you were there. You shall be interred in Bordeaux until such time as your brother pays the ransom… or someone does.”

“But what if he…” Orleans began.

He did not finish the question, likely because he did not wish to hear the answer.

“Take him away,” Geoffrey ordered. Then the king rose once more. “I wish for a few minutes with my son. We shall reconvene when the emissaries from my nephew are ready. Alias, summon me then.”

While the prince was not nearly as well up to date with current events as he should have been, he did know this was important.

King Henri of the Franks was dead - falling ill while with his army and never recovering. His son Leonard, born of King Geoffrey’s half-sister, Queen Bella, was now king.

It meant that Foulques IV d’Anjou, the Iron Duke, was now the father and grandfather to kings. But it also left the Franks in a precarious position as Henri, for all the talk of his cruelty, had a formidable reputation on the battlefield.

Prince, now King, Leonard was not nearly as revered. And there was a great question whether he could hold off both Alphonse of Valois and Arnulf of Flanders.

He had sent people to meet with King Geoffrey, perhaps hoping for friendship or an alliance. At the very least, he had to hope Aquitaine would not move against him.

And with that, the king walked from the main hall, the prince following behind. His father’s pace was quick, as it often was, and the shorter prince had to hurry to keep up.

The destination was the bedchamber, where the Iron Duke had once slept. The prince had not yet been here during this stay… and he felt that feeling of awe return.

“I hope you gained much from that,” the king told him as they sat down.

The prince nodded. He felt compelled to… even if he didn’t. Though he was pretty sure he had… even if he wasn’t certain what exactly he had gained. Surely watching taught him something he could use in the future.

“Have you any questions?” the king asked.

A slow shake of the head was the prince’s response. The king smirked.

“No questions?” the king asked. “You understand why I did all of that? Truly?”

The prince found himself frozen. He could not answer yes, knowing his father might press him. But if he answered no, he would appear foolish having not asked any question. And he did not want his father to think he was not paying attention… for he was. It was just… difficult to read minds.

The king simply shook his head, though a smile came to his face. “Prideful, and fearful. A dangerous combination.”

The prince’s stomach lurched. My father thinks me craven?

“I am not craven,” the prince replied. “I fear nothing.”

“Except admitting you do not understand something,” the king told him.

“I… it is…” but the prince had no real answer.

“What is it you did not understand?” the king asked. “That should not be a hard question to answer.”

But it was, for the prince could have replied “all of it.” He knew his father’s propensity for shows and had been told they always had meaning. And yet he could not quite grasp the totality of those meanings.

Deciding to pick on one aspect, the prince asked: “Why did you not show them the same respect you show other lords? Is it because they angered you?”

The king smirked. “No. It is because they are suitable for an example to be made of. Orleans is a weak duke who has little favor in the realm of the Franks. Gilles is no different. In some ways it is expected - they challenged our might foolishly. Now that might has humiliated them.”

“So you would not do that to Duke Simon?” the prince asked.

“Simon…” the king said. He looked into the distance for a moment before replying. “No. Simon is a lord worth something.”

“How do you know the difference?” the prince wondered.

“You will know,” Geoffrey replied. “You just do.”

The prince scratched his head, his fingers sliding under his hat as he did. Perhaps you do…

Then a knock at the door. Alias entered and bowing slightly to both king and prince, informed them that emissaries from King Leonard had arrived.

“They were quick,” the king said. “Eager to appease. Or state their case. Either way, it is good for us.”

“What do you hope to get from them, father?” the prince asked.

“Whatever they will give me,” the king said. “I am planning to remain neutral in their conflict… but if they wish to grant me something, I will not turn away their offer.”

The king stood from his chair and looked toward his son. “You are free to do as you please for now.”

“Am I not to attend this meeting?” the prince asked, a bit surprised.

“No,” the king said. “This is different than with Orleans.”

“How?” the prince asked. “How is it different?”

“It simply is,” the king told him. “There will be other talks. Other emissaries… other times where larger audiences are acceptable. Now, I have humored you enough. Go.”

The prince could not, and perhaps would not, hide his displeasure, shaking his head and frowning. He can’t do this - if I am to learn then I must…

A stern glare from his father put an end to that thought.

The prince swallowed hard then sheepishly slinked from the chamber and into the hall, intimidated and frustrated with his father and himself.

My brother might have challenged him…

But then his brother would have been much older - not a boy of 13. And when Foulques was 13, Geoffrey was simply the Duke of Aquitaine and Poitou… not arguably the most powerful man west of the lands of the German Kaiser. It was different.

Still it was a bitter disappointment for the prince as he shuffled through the keep, stopping briefly to wonder what would happen if he simply walked into the main hall before his father arrived. But he thought better of it, pulled his hat tight around his head and continued on, stewing in his frustration.

How am I to learn if I do not get a chance to see what it is like, he wondered as he wandered.

“Hello, Prince Geoffrey.”

The prince picked his head up to caught sight of Ana de Perigord flashing him a smile as she walked past with her step mother, who grabbed her wrist and pulled her off rather quickly.

Too bad you are not Anne, the prince lamented.

Then, reflecting on his current situation, an idea came to mind.

….

“Your swordmanship is most impressive.”

The prince smiled at the compliment paid to him. Ideally it would have come from Duchess Anne. But he was willing to accept it from young Ana.

The two were alone near the armory, having snuck off while the nobles of Aquitaine present at the keep enjoyed themselves to a small feast of sorts in the main hall.

Ana had made eyes at him, or so he thought, as he was dismissed by his father, and, feeling somewhat full of himself yet frustrated over being deemed too young to attend the meeting with the Frankish king’s emissaries, decided to meet her alone, telling Berard to arrange something.

He briefly wondered if she would not show, but she had, blushing when she saw him and eager to compliment.

“It is nothing, my lady,” Geoffrey said. “I am still learning much. And your brother proved a fine test.”

“You bested him though he is two years older!” Ana said. “I think that no small feat.”

The prince smirked and nodded. “Well… it was not. But there are still greater feats to be had.”

“And you will no doubt accomplish them,” Ana said. “You have it in your blood.”

It was a compliment, but one that still sent a chill down his spine. His father was the man who re-established the Kingdom of Aquitaine. His grandfather the Iron Duke of the Franks. His ancestors the lords of Aquitaine… even his brother had fought valiantly in their father’s name to establish the kingdom. It was quite the legacy to live up to.

And the prince was eager to impress - eager to learn how to impress. Which was part of why he was here.

He still had fanciful thoughts of Duchess Anne. Yet, she was an experienced woman of great beauty and refinement. He knew little of how to please her. But with a bit of practice…

Ana was pretty though. And already looking like a woman, more so than he looked a man, despite the fact they were same age. He could enjoy himself with her…

“You are growing into a lovely woman, my lady,” Geoffrey told her.

“I am no lady yet,” Ana said. “Well… I am a woman grown in some ways, but not a true lady.”

“You look it enough to me,” Geoffrey said.

Her face turned very red as she lowered her head. Geoffrey slid his hand over hers, then pulled it back, only to have her snatch at it.

“You should call me Ana,” she told him.

He grinned. “As you wish, Ana.”

And then, his blood rushing all over, and feeling a surge of energy he leaned in for a kiss, his lips meeting the warmth of hers, while his hands...

“Plantagenet!”

Geoffrey snapped his head up and took a few steps back. Standing a few feet away was Alberic.

“Alberic… I was just… talking with your lovely sister,” the prince said.

“I can see that,” Alberic said. “Though that conversation will have to end. Ana, if you will excuse us.”

Ana, blushing, simply nodded. The prince couldn’t even smile at her as he slinked away, his head down.

“I… I meant no ill by it,” the prince told the older teen as they walked.

“No… I would not have suspected ill,” Alberic said. “Perhaps something else…”

Geoffrey felt flush. Of all the embarrassing things…

“Did you hear something of us?” Geoffrey asked.

“No, that was chance,” Alberic said. “I was sent to find you.”

Geoffrey’s brow rose. “Knud wishes for to spar again?”

Alberic smirked. “No. Your father wants you to take part in the festivities.”

That was new. It wasn’t that the prince had not taken part in feasts before… but this was more akin to a celebration for the men.

The main hall had music and was lively with knights and the lords seated on benches with a long table in the middle. Serving wenches brought them food and drink - the prince wondering where they had come from? Were they servants? From the town?

Their purpose was plain enough though, as one of the knights grabbed the rear of one and pulled her onto his lap.

“Perhaps we should find one of our own,” Alberic remarked.

At first Geoffrey thought it an interesting idea - surely there would be some pretty girls among these wenches. But the grimace on the face of that woman in the knight’s clutches told the story of her disgust, and suddenly any thought Geoffrey might have had of trying that himself on one of the women was chased from his mind.

“BOY!”

The loud call drew the prince’s attention and he saw Knud rise and approach him. Red faced and possibly already drunk, he pulled the prince close in an embrace. Knud might not have let go had Geoffrey not been pulled away by Count Alias and taken his father, who had an empty spot at the end of the bench, nearest to his chair.

“Your trainer is quite pleased with his elevation to commander,” the king said.

“I see,” the prince replied. And then he was handed a large goblet of wine.

“This is been a fine trip,” the king said. “We have done much. You have seen much. And hopefully learned even more.”

The prince nodded. “Yes, father.”

“You are still angry over today,” the king said. “You missed nothing. We traded pleasantries is all.”

“And I couldn’t have seen that?” the prince asked.

The king sat in silence for a moment and then took a long drink of his wine.

“You are skilled as a fighter for your age,” the king said. “But have I sent you to battle?”

The prince shook his head. “I am ready though.”

“All children think themselves ready, until they find they aren’t,” the king said. “And then… it may be too late.”

He took another sip of his drink. “You are learning. But you are no expert. And while you learn I will place you in the best situations to do that. A meeting with a new king, who may well be desperate and unpredictable… no, that is not the best place for a novice.”

“I must learn all situations if I am to be king,” the prince said.

“You do not learn them all at once,” the king replied. “I know I did not.”

The prince lowered his head. He heard his father’s words. But he struggled to understand them once more. Why can’t I learn it at once? It is not a war… I cannot be killed in a negotiation!

“When we return,” the king began, “we will have your introduction to the realm. It will be a grand show, that makes this look a small gathering.”

The prince took another drink. “Is that necessary?”

“It is absolutely necessary,” the king replied. “Much of rule is projecting strength and authority. There must be something behind it, but too many assume that power, in and of itself is apparent. Look no further than this pointless war with Orleans - they thought us weak, even though we were quite strong.”

“Is that not advantageous in a way, father?” the prince wondered. “They rush in blindly, and then we close the trap?”

Geoffrey’s brow rose. A small smile came to his lips and he patted his son on the back. “THAT is the warrior in you talking. No, even traps where you hold an advantage can go wrong. Avoiding war and still achieving your aims… that is what is ideal.”

“But… you have fought your whole life, father,” the prince noted.

“When there was no other option,” Geoffrey said. “Which is why it is wise not to seek it, for it will find you regardless.”

“And I will be ready for it…” he said, though his voice was far louder when he began the sentence than when he finished it.

Would he be? What if the stories were right and his father was ill? What if he were to inherit in a few years… or God forbid a few months? There was more he needed to know. How to rule… how to negotiate, how to war… how to love.

Geoffrey patted him on the back. “You are nervous. I was too when I first came to Aquitaine. It will pass. Trust me.”

Then the king clanged his goblet with the prince’s. “To the kingdom… may it continue to prosper for our reigns… and beyond.”

The prince took a large gulp of the wine and nearly choked on it, all the while his father simply smiled.

 

[Eurasia]

Question - it looks like you were able to update to the newest version without breaking your old save...?!? Does it work with old saves?

 

[Badesumofu]

An enjoyable first chapter with Geoffrey - who is called Plantagenet. Feels like we're setting up for the last part of the story, that this Geoffrey will bring it to a conclusion.

 

[Jokerang]

The "Plantagenet" nickname seems to be a foreboding of things to come. Hopefully, great things.

And France could be a nuisance with a line of Genius kings. Who's the new king married to?