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And the map gets uglier.
 
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A very Byzantine mess in more ways than one. The dénouement though is that Jean suddenly has more crown lands and troops to call on when round two with his rebellious barons begins.
More than a decade of Anarchy, but the situation is getting a little better. This is indeed good news for Jean... We'll talk about him in next week's chapter (this week we'll visit Arabia).

And the map gets uglier.

A beautiful chaos in the purest Byzantine tradition. We're getting closer to the post-1204 situation.
 
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Chapter XXXIII. Jean the Brute
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The great hall of Yamama had probably never hosted so many great lords. King Jacques' steward had done his best to fit them all on the dais, but some of the counts had to be placed on the tables below.
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The lord of Arabia (from left to right) : Duke Manasses of Mecca, Duke Charles II of Al-Jawf, Duke Mursel of the Tugrulids, Duchess Elodie of Najd, Duke Sigismond of Al-Hasa, Duke Jean of Shammar, King Jacques the Red of Arabia, Duke Jean III of Asir, Duke Evrard II of Yamama, Duke André of Oman and Duke Aimery of Mahra

Young Jean tried as best he could to weave in and out of the diners to serve slices of braised pork to each guest. An absurd and degrading Latin custom, unworthy of a prince, but the Red had insisted that his squire become a lackey.

This midget Duke Charles of Al-Jawf had only accepted a slice, unlike that simpleton Jean of Montoire-Tathlith, Duke of Asir, a glutton who stuffed himself like four. Duke Mursel had politely refused. An Arab dressed as a lord, Jean thought. He may have converted, but he'll never touch pork, any more than those musicians with their ear-splitting rabab.

He was about to serve Duke Manassès of Mecca when the latter rose to give a toast. "I believe I speak for everyone here in thanking His Majesty Jacques for his welcome to his magnificent citadel."

Peuh, said Prince Jean to himself as he served that fat lump of Evrard, Duke of Yamama. A rickety old tower in the middle of the desert. Even the latrines are bigger in Constantinople.

He was not sure that the Duke of Yamama shared his opinion. Instead of raising his glass, Evrard II inspected the room with a stern look, as if to check that no trinkets had been moved. The pile of stone had belonged to him before King Jacques requisitioned it to house his court.

Agathe of Montoire-Tathlith, wife and great-aunt of Duke Jean III of Asir rose in turn: "My husband and I also wish to congratulate you once again on your marriage to our dear relative Ermengarde. We are happy to welcome you to our prestigious family."
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King Jacques the Red and Queen Ermengarde of Montoire-Guizeh

All the guests imitated the duchess, congratulating the 17-year-old queen sitting next to her husband. She seemed overjoyed and madly in love with the King.

Jean stuck out his tongue in disgust. He liked the Red very much, but he was a son of a knight, almost a commoner. Ermengarde may have only been the daughter of Duke Guichard of Cairo, she was still a Montoire and made a misalliance

The prince was on his way to serve the Duchess Elodie of Najd, when a six year old boy stood in front of him.
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Gauthier of Montoire

“I'm the one who serves my grandmother!" bellowed the kid.

“I am Jean of Montoire, Crown Prince of the Empire of Jerusalem, I serve whom I wish.”

“And I am Gauthier of Montoire, and one day I will inherit the Duchy of Najd and the lands of my great-uncle Jean of Asir.”
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The Montoires-Tathlith family tree

“I knew the Duke of Asir was weak, but I did not think him incapable of impregnating his wife."

The kid didn't really seem to understand what Jean meant. To be honest, he didn't know either, but Jacques had promised to take him to the brothel to teach him.

“Grandfather," said the youngster, "says his nephew can't have children because his aunt is too old.”

“Never mind your stories of incestuous degenerates," replied the prince. “It is already an insult to my family that camel fuckers like you pride themelves on bearing our name." Jean took a chop and threw it at the boy's head. "For your fat cow of a grandmother."

The kid started to cry, which made Jean burst out laughing. But a hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"This is not the way a prince should behave," said Jean of Shammar. Ever since he had lost his lands in the Crown of Jerusalem and had been exiled to Arabia, the duke had never left the king's side. Jean did not like him and his black mood, but there was something about him that frightened him. "Shall I inform His Majesty?"
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Duke Jean of Shammar

Jean swallowed his saliva. Despite his humble origins, the Red did not hesitate to hit him. He lowered his head and mumbled an apology.

"My lords!” The king called out. “I thank you all for coming here. It is an honour to receive you in my humble home. Today, I am proud to be the ruler of the Crown of Arabia!" A clamour greeted his words. "I would like to..." he waited until it was completely quiet before continuing. "I would also like to toast to the overlord of us all. Long live the only Sovereign of Jerusalem, Emperor Jean!"

All the lords nodded loudly in agreement and downed their cups of wine before sitting down again... all except Duke Evrard II of Yamama.
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Duc Evrard II de Yamama

"I would also like to raise a glass to those who have supported you from the beginning. Who proclaimed you king in the High Court. To those who fought with you, in the battle of Jerusalem."

As he spoke, the Duke stared at Jean of Shammar who stood to the left of the King. The tension was palpable and, while most of the lords lowered their cups, they were not very enthusiastic about it.

When Evrard sat down, the music started again, but the atmosphere had cooled down. One after the other, the guests asked to leave to go to their apartments.

The king and queen themselves eventually greeted the lords and withdrew. Jean followed closely behind, escorting them to the donjon.

"I see you didn't just make friends at the banquet," said the king as Jean helped him off with his clothes.

The prince swallowed his saliva, wondering if Shammar had not reported the incident to the Red.

"A brat disrespected me. A subject who dares to contradict a prince in Constantinople…”

“You're not in Constantinople," Jacques cut him off. “And if you are really a prince, you must charm your future subjects. One day this brat will be one of your vassals, and your reign may well depend on his support. In the Empire of Jerusalem, the ruler serves as much as he rules. Remember this."

The prince mumbled his assent, then left the royal chamber. He returned to the small adjoining room where he had been installed. He hated it. Too hot during the day, it was freezing at night. It was also too small and unworthy of his rank. The only entertainment he had been left with was a few books selected by Patriarch Gilbert. All boring books about saints... and all in Latin! He had preferred to use the Life of Saint Stephen of Jerusalem to train with the sword.

Through the small opening he found himself admiring the vastness of the desert and the tide of Bedouin tents pressing against the fortress. He was about to spit at a guard on duty when he heard a high-pitched shout from the royal chamber.

Jean reacted quickly, grabbed his sword and stormed into the room.

He discovered his cousin Ermengarde naked as a glass and could not help admiring her breast. The queen was hysterical and pointed to the bed where the king lay bare-naked.

The prince approached slowly, sword raised before him. The king's empty gaze seemed to stare at the ceiling. His mouth was wide open, dripping a thin stream of drool and vomit. His complexion was as pale as the marble statues in the Grand Palais. Dead, Jean thought, fascinated... almost excited by the corpse.
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The corpse of Jacques the Red

A shout from Ermengarde snapped him out of his reverie. He saw why. From under the blanket he saw a large black scorpion emerge. He did not hesitate for a second, striking the beast with all his might. His blow missed and sank deep into the king's groin. The beast ran over the dead man's chest. Jean struck again and again, lacerating the Red's body but failing to kill the beast. The queen screamed horribly at each of the prince's blows.

Finally, he crushed the scorpion. He shouted in victory as the blood of the king and the beast splashed on the walls.

Too happy to have killed the scorpion and too fascinated by the dead man, he barely heard the guards coming up behind him.

A hand finally snapped him out of his reverie. "Come, Your Highness." He recognised the voice of Jean of Shammar pulling him back. "We must leave as soon as possible.”

“Where?" asked the prince.

“We need to get back to your father.”

-Why?" the prince asked as he followed the duke up the stairs. The latter turned back to Jean and looked into his eyes.

"This scorpion didn't get into His Majesty's bed by itself."​
 
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Oh joy, Jean the younger is a brat and one of the few men who could straighten him out just got killed violently and had his corpse be accidentally mutilated by the said Jean.
 
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Oh joy, Jean the younger is a brat and one of the few men who could straighten him out just got killed violently and had his corpse be accidentally mutilated by the said Jean.

Oh yes, Jean the Younger is... um... promising. With Jacques, the little hope of making him a decent person disappeared.
 
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Chapter XXXIV. Jean I the Greek
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"The members of the Council have asked me to convey their sincere greetings to you.”

Standing in the centre of the ceremonial hall, Etienne was resplendent in his silks and surcoat of arms. On almost every finger was a signet ring embellished with jewels. And that smile, muttered Jean inwardly. That satisfied smile... blessed the day I can make him swallow it. The Emperor readjusted his position in his seat. That day had not come, and he had to drink the poisoned chalice to the dregs and endure this charade.
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Prince Etienne Mellent

“What news from Jerusalem, Uncle?" he asked.

“The Council has met again. We have received news from Queen-Mother Catherine. Since your mother's death, Agathe seems to be in a better position. Helena Komnenos still dominates the battlefield but cannot achieve a decisive victory and her subjects are tired of war. As for Philippopolis and its region, it is now under our control. We have discussed which governor we should appoint.
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Philippopolis

“I had thought," Jean began, "of my brother Antoine. He was close to my mother, knows Philippopolis well and…”

“Too young and inexperienced," said Etienne. “And too Greek. No, the Council put forward these three names..." He handed the emperor a parchment. Jean was not surprised to find only Onfroy and Etienne's creatures on it. "You may, of course, choose freely among these faithful servants."

Jean handed him the scroll. "Do as you please…”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. The council appreciates the trust you have placed in it. By the way, the High Court has been convened.”

“I was not informed of this," said Jean. “No lord who has deigned to visit me has mentioned it.”

“Only a few lords of the Crown of Jerusalem participated. The Council did not see fit to summon those living far from the capital. And we know that you are very busy, Your Majesty, so King Onfroy stood in for you. The lords of the kingdom would like you to affix your seal to these new laws."

Jean took the parchment and quickly read the demands: lower taxes, reduced levies, private wars and inheritance for foreigners... he felt sick to his stomach.
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The High Court's decisions

"Is this a joke? No ruler in Jerusalem has ever accepted such a loss of power.”

“And yet, the good kings Henri II and Hugues II accepted similar conditions…”

“The Coward and the Broken? I will be in good company.”

“The Council supports these demands," announced Etienne, barely veiling his threat.

“So be it..." said the emperor with a flick of his lips before affixing his seal and handing the parchment to the prince.

"By the way, His Majesty Onfroy is pleased with the good cities of Beirut and Tripoli. A gift for which he can only praise you... nevertheless, the Council deems it time for you to hand over full suzerainty over these lands.”

“The Duchy of Lebanon..." translated Jean. “This title belongs to the Crown since ....”

“... far too long. The duchy is supposed to be an apanage. The current situation is an incongruity...."

“...and I'm going to end it," sighed Jean.
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The Duchy of Lebanon is granted to King Onfroy

Etienne bowed. "I thank you, Your Majesty. I will inform the Council of your wise decisions."

Without asking for permission, the prince turned and headed for the door.

"And the murder of Jacques of Arabia?" the Emperor asked, forcing Etienne to turn around.

“Murder, Your Majesty? According to our information, it was simply a scorpion sting, a tragic event, but common in these parts. It seems that your son has already tried and punished the animal.”

“Animal placed by Duke Evrard II of Yamama. To whom, if I am not mistaken, you have just handed over the king's former stronghold.”

“Yamama belonged to Evrard, it is normal, in the absence of a king of Arabia, that the place should revert to him. The Duke had nothing to do with the death of Jacques the Red. You're listening to Shammar a bit too much, Sire. You know what they say, once a traitor... Perhaps he hopes you will reward him with the title of the deceased. The Council should give you a list of lords worthy to wear the Arabian crown."

With a smile on his face, Etienne left.

Jean got up and came to stand in front of the desk where he worked.

“You have heard everything I presume?" asked the emperor without turning around.

“Not a single one of his insults escaped me, unfortunately," replied Jean de Shammar, slipping into the room.
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Duke Jean of Shammar

“Me too, dear duke, me too," said the emperor, admiring a coffer.

“You were quite calm in the face of such humiliation.”

“I think I'm past the anger stage, my lord.” He pointed to a scroll that lay near his chair. “Take this.”

“What is it?" asked the Duke of Shammar, unfolding it.

“A list of names. The members of my new Council which will meet next month.”

The chamberlain quickly went through the list of names while nodding his head, clearly satisfied.

"Shall I invite them to the Palace of the Broken, Your Majesty?”

“No," said the emperor, opening the box and taking out the imperial crown. “The council will meet in Jerusalem."​
 
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Is the Emperor preparing to strike back? A union between the ERE and the KoJ promises an infinite number of treacheries and cannibalistic scorpions. Thank you for the updates.

(My current CK2 game had an AI Byz Empire have five Emperors within one calendar year without needing the late autumn. It followed that year with a very un-Byzantine six decades free of civil war.)
 
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Is the Emperor preparing to strike back? A union between the ERE and the KoJ promises an infinite number of treacheries and cannibalistic scorpions. Thank you for the updates.

It seems so! Speaking of Agathe... the next chapter is dedicated to her.

(My current CK2 game had an AI Byz Empire have five Emperors within one calendar year without needing the late autumn. It followed that year with a very un-Byzantine six decades free of civil war.)

Aaaaah, Byzantine civil wars, a delight!
 
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Chapter XXXV. Agathe
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An icy wind suddenly picked up and swept across the rocky promontory where the meeting was to take place. The delegation shivered as the white banner flapped over their heads. Agathe pulled her coat up to protect herself from the cold.

Four loyalists in a cold wind about to meet a usurper named Helena, the empress thought. I have a feeling of déjà vu...

Of course, the situation had changed considerably since her encounter with Helena II outside Constantinople. For a start, she was not before the walls of Theodosius, but a league away from Gallipoli, the stronghold of Helena I.

Secondly, none of the people who had accompanied her ten years ago were present today. Her brother Henri was living in Baghdad where he was giving advice to their nephew Hugues the White. Gilbert du Puy du Fou was now Patriarch of Jerusalem. As for her husband Philippos, he was holed up in the comfort of his palace in Constantinople. In their place were her faithful Pulcheria Doukas, her sister-in-law Catherine and her nephew Hugues the By-Blow.

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Duchess Pulcheria Doukas, Empress Agathe, Queen Mother Catherine and Friar Hugues the By-Blow

Above all, Father and his 20,000 men were gone. She could only rely on her own meagre forces against the far superior armies of Helena. Agathe could no longer afford a battle.

"I doubt she'll submit," she muttered as she watched the rebel delegation come to them.

"And yet," said Catherine. “I'm sure she will.”

“And why is that? My troops are so few compared to her.”

“These are not Helena's troops," replied Pulcheria Doukas. But despots, and they are tired. According to my informants, Ioannes Bryennios, the despot of Serbia, has returned to his own land and is reluctant to send reinforcements. Alexandros Palaiotes, the despot of Hellas, was one of the first to side with the usurper, yet he is one of the strongest supporters of these talks. His influence is growing at the expense of the hardliners led by your half-brother Ougos.”

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The rebel despots: Despot Alexandros Palaiotes of Hellas ; Despot Ioannes Bryennios of Serbia; Despot Dorotheos Ouranos of Anatolia

“And according to my own sources," added Catherine, "Helena's most loyal supporter, the despot Dorotheos Ouranos, is said to be in doubt. I tell you, they are ripe.”

“We'll see," Agathe said doubtfully.

The rebel delegation soon arrived. Like Agathe, Helena had put on a coat of mail and a crown. She was accompanied by two of her despots. Alexandros Palaiotes was all smiles, while the Domestic of the Schools Dorotheos Ouranos showed no emotion. Ougos, Agathe's bastard brother, came last. His dark look left no doubt as to how he felt about this meeting.

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Despot Alexandros Palaiotes, Helena I Komnenos, Despot Dorotheos Ouranos and Ougos Anatolikos

"Agathe," said the usurper simply.

“Helena", replied the empress.

The exchange had been colder than the wind that continued to blow.

“Every Roman," said the despot Alexandros Palaiotes in an enthusiastic tone, "should be delighted to see the empress and the princess meet at last.”

“I wonder," muttered Ougos, "who you consider to be the princess and who the empress.”

Catherine brought her horse forward.

"It is an honour to finally meet you, Helena. King Onfroy and Emperor Jean wish to express their deep respect for you and your family.”

“They would show me more respect if they stopped meddling in the affairs of our empire," Helena replied curtly, which made Ougos laugh.

“The rulers of Jerusalem," Catherine continued as if nothing had happened, "want peace.”

“And the empress must submit," spat Ougos.

“It's not...," Catherine began.

“My advisor is right," interrupted Helena. “Don't waste my time, you want me to submit. Why do you think I will accept? I have won all my battles.”

“And yet I am still here," replied the empress.

“With what? 5,000 men at the most. I have eight times that many!" Agathe noticed, however, that Dorotheos Ouranos, so far unmoved, seemed uncomfortable.

“These men belong to your supporters," she replied. “Supporters who have been fighting continuously for eight years. How much longer will they fight? Constantinople is still mine and 40,000 men cannot take the city.”

“Your father has done it.”

“We controlled the seas, you do not.”

“And while you are happily slaughtering each other," added Catherine, "your enemies are eyeing the Empire.”

“You are probably talking about yourself," replied Ougos. “Is Philippopolis to Emperor John's taste?”

“I was talking about King Akab.”

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Malik (King) Akab the Peasant King

“A peasant," said Ougos dismissively.

“A peasant, intervened Despot Alexandros, who has seized Epirus and threatens Serbia and Greece.”

“Akab also controls much of Anatolia," Agathe added, "and is eyeing up what's left.”

As she spoke, she did not take her eyes off Dorotheos Ouranos. Only he matters. Helena is full of arrogance, but without her despots she is nothing. Palaiotes is already in my favour and Ouranos is viscerally opposed to me. Everything depends on Ouranos.

“It has been many years since I left my lands...," said the despot of Anatolia after a long silence. “And my sister-in-law has indeed informed me of the Sultan's intentions.”

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Princess Marthe of Montoire, sister of Agathe and sister-in-law of Dorotheos Ouranos

“Princess Marthe is also the sister of the Usurper," said Ougos.

“Perhaps," said Ouranos, "but her arguments for peace did not fall on deaf ears.” He turned to Helena. “With all due respect, the Empire is more important than the Empress."

Bless you, sis, said Agathe to herself. It seems that Father had seen into the future when he married you to the brother of the despot of Anatolia.

With her eyes fixed on Ouranos, Helena seemed to be thinking. Ougos wanted to intervene but she cut him off with a gesture, then turned to Agathe.

"What do you propose?”

“An... acceptable compromise," said Agathe. “You and your supporters will receive letters of amnesty. You will retain your titles and lands and will all be under my protection. Your son Valerios will be made Caesar and Dorotheos Ouranos will enter the council as Marshall.”

“And the patriarch?”

“Patriarch Isaac, whom you appointed on the death of Germanos II, will be able to settle in Constantinople and will be on an equal footing with Patriarch Roubaud. The Union with the Pope will be postponed to a future council. In the meantime, all the subjects of the Empire will be free to take communion according to the rite of their choice and to honour one or other of the patriarchs during the mass.”

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Bouchard, Latin Patriarch of Constantinople and Isaac Greek Patriarch of Constantinople

“And in return?" said Helena.

“You will bend the knee and acknowledge me as the rightful empress.”

“Is that all?" asked Ougos tartly.

“No," said Agathe to everyone's surprise. “The amnesty does not concern Hugues the Bastard, here. He will be able to leave the Empire freely and settle wherever he likes, except in Jerusalem.”

“How merciful, sis!" laughed Ougos. I will see to it that you suffer the same fate the day the empress defeats you."

His laughter died as he discovered the serious expression of his empress. "Your Majesty, you are not thinking of..."

Helena I of the Komnenos house completely ignored Ougos. She took off her crown and gave it to Dorotheos Ouranos, then dismounted. She walked up to Agathe and then, after a short hesitation, bent her knee before her.

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The surrender of the rebels : a white peace

Helena was quickly followed by the two despots. Ougos refused to do so. He spurred his horse and disappeared, cursing them.

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The exile of Ougos in the Malikat of Akab

The empress was seized with a strong emotion. She looked at Catherine who was smiling at her. Agathe nodded her head, expressing her gratitude to her former rival.

She had done it, she had saved her crown.

She had finally obtained peace!

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Peace!
 
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Such bordergore though.
 
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Such bordergore though.
It matters not. Ata-Malik is a Muslim country which is bordering two Christian empires whose minor lords, now that their armies are not being spent on killing each other, are free to start taking bits and pieces off until inevitably they wind up in eight different wars at once and fall apart.

And of course Agatha is still childless so when she dies, Jean inherits and the bit of Philoppolis (in now modern-day Bulgaria) goes back to the Byzantine crown.

Point is that the borders are going to look much cleaner in ten to twenty years time.

Edit: Actually as an addendum, if Jean is smart, he should start the carrion tearing process by declaring for Sinai. It’s been held by the Byzantines for so long that I doubt it’s de jure part of Egypt anymore, meaning he can increase his crown lands without angering anyone.
 
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Such bordergore though.

That's what 15 years (30 if we count Eustathios Palemonaitis coup against the Komnenoi) of civil war can do to an Empire. But, as @Historywhiz said:

It matters not. Ata-Malik is a Muslim country which is bordering two Christian empires whose minor lords, now that their armies are not being spent on killing each other, are free to start taking bits and pieces off until inevitably they wind up in eight different wars at once and fall apart.

And of course Agatha is still childless so when she dies, Jean inherits and the bit of Philoppolis (in now modern-day Bulgaria) goes back to the Byzantine crown.

Point is that the borders are going to look much cleaner in ten to twenty years time.

But one detail, Akab "the Peasant King" is Arab but Orthodox as his greek lords.

Edit: Actually as an addendum, if Jean is smart, he should start the carrion tearing process by declaring for Sinai. It’s been held by the Byzantines for so long that I doubt it’s de jure part of Egypt anymore, meaning he can increase his crown lands without angering anyone.

Jean is still weak and has another problem to deal with, as we will see in the next chapter :) .
 
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Chapter XXXVI. Jean I the Greek
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"Your Majesty, I'm sorry but I can't let you in."

The guard was probably no more than twenty years old and was clearly impressed by the emperor and the great lords who accompanied him. Nevertheless, he stood between them and the council chamber, his left hand on the hilt of his sword.

“I am the emperor of Jerusalem," Jean thundered. “I order you to go away!”

“I... I have," stammered the guard. “I have orders.”

“From whom?”

“Fr... from Prince Etienne," said the young man, pointing to the embroidered shield on his tunic.

A flush of anger swept over the emperor. "Count Orson!"
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Count Orson of Haditha

Armed from head to toe, the lord of Haditha stepped forward. "Sire?"

Although he was not much older than the guard, Orson had proven himself in the War of the Montoires as a knight and then a commander in the rebel camp. Despite his former allegiance, he had been one of the first to answer the emperor's call. Like all the lords of Syria and Upper Mesopotamia, he took a dim view of Etienne's rise and feared that he would crown himself king.

"Arrest this traitor who dares to threaten his emperor!”

“Yes, Your Majesty." Orson issued a command and several imperial guards drew their swords, forcing the young man to surrender.

"Go around the palace," the emperor ordered Orson. “Disarm and lock up my cousin's and uncle's guards and make others swear loyalty. Forbid anyone, including servants, to leave the palace until further notice. I don't want rumours to spread in the city.”

“It will be done according to your orders, Sire," said the count before ordering the imperial guards to follow him.
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The Imperial Council

The emperor and his advisors entered the council chamber and took their seats around the large table. Sitting on Jean's right, Patriarch Gilbert looked grim.
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Patriarch Gilbert

"It was a brave act, Your Majesty, but... rash," he said carefully. “The arrest of his guards might not sit well with King Onfroy.”

“I don't care about my cousin's displeasure," said Jean.

“I don't know why you have summoned us here," continued the patriarch, "but I am beginning to fear the reason.”

“I have summoned you, Your Holiness, to apologise to you all," Jean said to the surprise of everyone. "My lords, I have not proved myself worthy of the duties that have fallen to me. With my mind stuffed with a Greek upbringing, I have disregarded our customs and denied my predecessors and what they fought for. The Greek is the nickname I deserved. But worst of all, I have been a coward." A few councillors wanted to protest, but he silenced them with a gesture. "I was a coward. I hid in my palace for months. I abandoned Jerusalem and my rights. I abandoned you."

The emperor stood up: "A simple knight, a true Frank, has reminded me of my duties to you. So I swear before you to be the overlord you hope for and deserve. A true Frank, worthy successor to the Crusaders who came to the Levant to liberate the Holy Land."
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Emperor Jean assumes his origins

A servant came and brought the coffer and Jean took out the crown and displayed it for all to see. “I," he announced in a loud and clear voice. “Jean of the House of Montoire, descendant of Hugues I the Great, reaffirms my rights as Emperor and King of Jerusalem. I hereby order Onfroy of the House of Montoire-Safaga to renounce all his false claims to the crown of the Holy Land."
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The emperor takes back the title of king of Jerusalem from Onfroy

This declaration was received with enthusiasm by the councillors. Patriarch Gilbert rose and took the crown from the emperor's hands.

"Sire, under your patronage, I have been working for several years on the chronicle of the Montoires. I am delighted to see you finally accepting your heritage." He took the crown from Jean's hands and placed it on his head. "Long live the King of Jerusalem!"

A clamour greeted his statement. For the first time in ages, Jean felt pride.

When it was quiet and everyone had sat down again, the patriarch spoke again.

"However, Sire. With this proclamation you have crossed the Rubicon. King Onfroy will never submit, and many of the lords of Jerusalem will support him. I fear that civil war may once again descend upon the Empire.”

“The patriarch is right," says the chamberlain Jean of Shammar. “Although I do not share his fears and call for it, war is a certainty." The former rebel had become Jean's closest adviser and his most bellicose supporter. "The lords of Jerusalem will not follow you, including those who have supported you in the past. They have sworn loyalty to Onfroy.”
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Left : Duke Jean of Shammar ; Right : map of the rebels (red) and loyalists (blue) in the Crown of Jerusalem

“Even Duke Guichard of Cairo?”

“We had secured his support by marrying his daughter Ermengarde to Jacques the Red... but the death of the King of Mesopotamia has reshuffled the cards. He will not break his oath to Onfroy. At best we can hope that he will drag his feet.”

“You have nothing to expect from these traitors of Lower Egypt," spat Duke Payen III of Al Said. “But you can count on the lords of Upper Egypt. We have always been loyal to the Montoires and we will fight for you!"
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Left : Duke Payen III of Al Said ; Right : map of the rebels (red) and loyalists (blue) in the Crown of Egypt

To the Montoires, but which ones? Jean asked himself inwardly. Despite his boasts, Payen, like all the lords of Upper Egypt, had supported Onfroy, who was one of them. They had nevertheless been disappointed by the usurper, who had constantly courted the lords of the Delta. The prospect of fighting against the lords of Lower Egypt and of obtaining a place as chancellor on the Council, a first for a duke of Upper Egypt, had been enough for the lords of the south of the Nile to rally behind Jean.

"My mother Queen Catherine," intervened Hugues the White, "assures me that her brother the Count of Alexandria will also support you."
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Left : King Hugues III the White of Mesopotamia ; Right : map of the rebels (red) and loyalists (blue) in the Crown of Mesopotamia

Jean had not known his uncle Hugues II the Dark, but he had heard enough about this brave and irritable warrior to know that his son and heir was nothing like him. The king of Mesopotamia had fine, delicate features and pale skin that could not stand the glare of the sun. His hair was bright white and his moustache was carefully combed. He preferred the silks fashionable in Baghdad to coats of mail and always displayed refined manners.

He was still one of the most powerful men in the Empire. During the last conflict, he had remained neutral, which had cost Jean dearly. This is why he had gone to great lengths to win him over this time, showering him with honour and appointing him treasurer of the Empire.

"It goes without saying that Mesopotamia is behind you, cousin," said the white man, stroking his moustache.

"So is Arabia," added Duke Manasses of Mecca. The new marshal had been a loyal supporter of Jacques the Red, so he had been much less difficult to convince. A veteran of many wars and particularly appreciated by his peers, his appointment had pleased the lords of Arabia. Jean of Shammar was already on the council, but the Arab lords did not consider him to be one of their own.
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Left : Duke Manasses of Mecca ; Right : map of the rebels (red) and loyalists (blue) in the Crown of Arabia

“Except for Evrard de Yamama," says Jean de Shammar.

“I'm glad I'm not riding with a murderer," spat Manasses.

“This traitor will pay for his crimes," intervened Jean. “According to Count Orson, no lord of Syria or Upper Mesopotamia will follow Etienne. So only the lords of Jerusalem will oppose me.”
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Map of the rebels (red) and loyalists (blue) in the Crown of Syria-Upper Mesopotamia

“A formidable force not to be underestimated," Shammar intervened, "the Crown of Jerusalem is the most powerful and richest of all. And it is easier for them to gather and concentrate their troops.”

“We will still have a definite numerical advantage," announced Manasses. “And I took care to raise the levies before my departure from Arabia.”

“Our uncle Henri is already on his way with all the forces of Mesopotamia," said Hugues the White.

“And perhaps we can count on your aunt the Empress Agathe," Payen said. “The Greeks are only just recovering from their civil war, but perhaps I could…”

“I will send a message to my mother," cut him off. She will plead your case to our aunt."

Jean sighed. "Good. So the day has finally come. War, at last!"
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War!
 
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The Emperor is about to give the KoJ his rightful place, a chamber under six feet of unmarked desert sand. Thank you for the updates and the portraits. Are the portraits from game?

Yes they are from the game (I use the Barbershop mod to take better screenshots).
 
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All caught up. It is satisfying to re-take what was lost.

Thank you very much, I hope you enjoyed it!

I am so sorry for the delay. To make up for it I will publish two chapters this week.
 
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Chapter XXXVII. Etienne
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The seal slowly sank into the hot wax. Etienne held for a few moments before removing it, then inspected the wax to make sure that his personal seal, an intertwined E and M, appeared. He blew on it to dry it, then handed the parchment to the banker.
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Giovanni Bambone

“It is always an honour for the House Bambone to do business with you," he says in French with a strong Italian accent.

“I don't think I need to point out that the matter is urgent.”

“No, Signor Stefano," replied the Italian in an obsequious tone. “My nephew Manfredo will sail tonight to..."

The Italian was startled when the door opened with a bang. Not in the least embarrassed, Duke André the Giant entered Etienne's study as if it were his own quarters. He made his way to the desk, completely ignoring the banker.
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Duke André II the Giant of Oultrejordain

“Alain of Tiberias has returned," he announced in his deep, monotonous voice. “The king has sent for you.”

“We were done," said Etienne, dismissing the Italian with a wave of his hand.

The latter bowed to the prince. Seeing that the Duke of Oultrejordain was looking at him like a tramp, he took care to go round him and to leave as quickly as possible.

“I hate those Genoese," said André, spitting on the floor.

“Giovanni Bambone is a Pisan," said Etienne, getting up and going out.

“All the same”, said the duke. “Arrogant parvenus. You can't take a step in Beirut without running into one of these parasites.”

“They have their uses," said Etienne as they entered a long gallery whose magnificent pillars were surmounted by an H crossed by an II. An untrained observer might have mistaken these initials for those of Henri II or Etienne's grandfather, Hugues II the Broken. But they belonged to the usurper Hugues "II" the Frank, who had the fortress rebuilt.

“In wartime?" asked André with a tone of full disdain.

“War is expensive, and they have money.”

“Wars are won with swords," André replied as if this were a biblical truth.

“They have swords, but we can't count on them. Nothing matters to the Italians but their interests. And their interests in the region are their trading colonies in Tripoli and Beirut, which they don't want to lose by betting on the wrong horse. They are ready to be accommodating with us, even to help a bit. But to commit themselves frankly to our side? That's risky, especially when you see this." He pointed to the hundred or so wounded soldiers being treated in the courtyard below. "Our defeat at Tiberias, though minor, has cost us some credit with the Italians."
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The Civil War

André merely nodded silently and the two men soon made their way to the former ceremonial room that Onfroy had converted into a council chamber when he moved to Beirut after the War of the Montoires.
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Duke Alain III of Tiberias

"This is a disaster!" Still clad in his chain mail, Alain III, Duke of Tiberias, was pacing the room, raising his nasal voice that echoed in the small chamber. "By some miracle, my mother-in-law Wulfhilde has managed to send me a message. The situation inside the fortress is catastrophic! The garrison will not last long against the Greek's forces!"
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The Siege of Tiberias

The king seemed almost amused by the scene. Slumped in his chair, he nonchalantly picked at a bowl of grapes.
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King Onfroy

"We must act, Your Majesty!" cried Alain.

“You gave us the same speech a few months ago," said Etienne, taking his seat at the council table. “And even though our troops were not yet all gathered, we tried to break the siege. You saw the result.”

“This time it will be different!" said Alain, glaring at him. “We have received reinforcements from Egypt!”

“Too few, and only a few levies, no knights deigned to come to us.”

“Not surprising from Guichard the Slow”, laughed King Onfroy.

“A traitor!" roared Alain, who was clearly not laughing at the joke. “The lords of Lower Egypt should be hanged!”

“I think we have enough enemies as it is," said Etienne calmly. “And Barthélémy?”

“The... The Greek refused the ransom for the Duke of Medina," said Alain.
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Duke Bartélémy of Medina

“It's not a bad thing," said King Onfroy. “Losing a battle against the young Count Orson, pathetic."

The remark displeased Etienne. The Duke of Medina was a close friend of his and had always been loyal to Onfroy. The prince did not like to see how his Majesty treated his followers in need.

“And if we are short of funds," continued the king, "we surely owe it to our dear Barthélémy, was he not my steward?”

“We should be more comfortable, Your Majesty, I have just met a representative of the Bambone Bank.”

“I see," said Alain, "while my ancestral home is burning, you're quietly discussing with Lombard commoners to get a few coins?”

“You should watch your tongue when you speak to a prince of the blood," said Etienne. “And I got a lot more than a few coins.”

“Troops?" asked Onfroy, completely ignoring the Duke of Tiberias.

“No," said Etienne. “But I have made our enemies lose some. We have enough to do with the Greek's troops in the south, I didn't want his countrymen to attack us from the north. I have removed the threat posed by my sister."

Onfroy gobbled a grain. "And by what miracle, my good cousin?”

“The Pisans are on good terms with Pope Alexander and, like him, are concerned about the Greek presence in Italy, even Genoa is under the theoretical suzerainty of Constantinople. It so happens that Duke Currado II of Benevento, a vassal of the pope, has his eye on southern Italy and needs financial support. Part of our loan is intended for him. He will soon attack the Greeks.”
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Italy in 1312

“Italy is far away... I doubt Agathe cares more about it than about her nephew…”

“That is why I also convinced Emperor Deszo of Carpathia to cross the Danube.”
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The double offensive against the Latin Empire of Constantinople

“Thanks to Catherine?”

“No, the Queen Mother seems to have double-crossed us and sided with the Greek. Probably to further the interests of her son. It so happens that the Pisans also have trading posts in the Black Sea. It was they who delivered my message.”

“I am very glad I am not your enemy, you are a dangerous man." Onfroy's carnivorous smile made Etienne shudder. The message is clear, he is suspicious of me.

The king stood up abruptly and clapped his hands. "Duke Alain is right, it is time to go to war again.”

“Finally," growled André the Giant. “My sword is rusting. Entrust me with the troops and I'll make sure to crush the Imperials once and for all.”

“A good idea," said Etienne. “There is no point in exposing yourself further, My King." To tell the truth, Etienne would have preferred one of his own men, but Berenger the One-Eyed, his most experienced commander, had been badly wounded during the battle of Jerusalem two years before, and had died a few months after the War of the Montoires. André was not one of his closest friends, but he had a good relationship with him and if he had many faults, cruelty not being the least of them, he was not ambitious.

“No," said the king. “I am not hiding. I must command the troops to wash away the affront of Tiberias.”

“Thank you, Sire," said Alain. “I knew you would not let my home fall into the hands of the tyrant!”

“Tiberias is doomed," cut in Onfroy. “I will not lose men needlessly to save your mother-in-law or your ancient terraces. No, I will march on Jerusalem."​
 
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Merry Christmas everyone!
 
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