Denying the Devil His Due, A Spanish IGC AAR

[Morlac]

Originally posted by Carolus Rex
First pic shows, looking good. The second one doesn't show.

Thanks -- should be okay now. I had a problem with Tripod, but it's fixed. More screenies coming...

 

[unmerged(6159)]

working for me

 

[Morlac]

Screenshot Gallery 1b: Middle East 1516 vs 1539

versus

Lotsa changes here, mostly in my favor

However, notice that I still can't seem to get rid of the Turkish presence in Egypt (they never want to give it up in peace negotiations unless I guess I were to value it at 3 or 4 stars, and it takes a lot to capture it in the first place...)

Also, somewhere in the Turkish vs persian wars, Oman had managed to snatch Hormouz from Persia, cutting the country in two and making the Persians spitting mad! For decades, the two were locked in war after war as Persia tried to get it back and Oman tried to use it as a bridgehead to the rest of the country. They only managed to achieve a deadlock.

Also note that I've got one former Ethiopian province whose name I forget at the moment, completely cut off from the rest of my holdings. At this point I don't even have a Persian Gulf fleet to ferry troops over, as Oman has a very formidable fleet, and I am avoiding naval engagements. (Fleets are expensive and I don't want to accidentally give my maps to anyone!)

 

[Morlac]

Screenshot Gallery 1c: The Americas 1516 vs 1539

versus

and

A nice bit of progress, I think, all thanks to my wonderful and frantically busy conquistadores.

Two or three of the Caribbean island provinces are trading posts that I "confiscated" from the French via the Treaty of Tordesillas. England has one TP there, and Portugal is beginning to grow a bit in S. America by 1539 but very slowly and cautiously.

The Iroquois still have their capital, completely surrounded. Since all those territories are still just colonies, I'm in no great rush to annex them and add to my badboy woes. As it is, it was taking forever to bring them up to city size. (I was using colonists on a couple and letting time do the rest.)

I didn't bother putting up a screenie of 1539 Tahiti and Australia, as that's a pretty simple shot -- a colonial city in Tahiti, Australia discovered/mapped but not yet colonized. And a lot of Incognita!

Hope those help everyone follow the action! Sorry that my screenies don't follow exactly where I've broken segments in the narrative. I just archive save files Jan 1st every several years as I play, wheras the narrative breaks come later as I make sense of what happened and look for larger themes to tie stuff together.

 

[unmerged(6975)]

Great storyline! I love the very historically based plot, it's almost like reading an old 16th century book. Well, except that few 16th century writers claimed to be the archangel Michael. Ever read Memnoch the Devil? It's got the same kind of dark, religous, topsy-turvy look at history.

 

[Morlac]

off topic...

Originally posted by Celt
Great storyline! I love the very historically based plot, it's almost like reading an old 16th century book. Well, except that few 16th century writers claimed to be the archangel Michael. Ever read Memnoch the Devil? It's got the same kind of dark, religous, topsy-turvy look at history.

Thanks for the praise! It's very nice to hear that folks are still reading the EU1 AARs. I actually thought about switching to EU2 before writing my AAR so that it would have a bigger audience. But I figured I'd just write another. Now, having begun it, I'm wondering if that was such a good idea! Didn't realize how much I'd be writing or how much research I'd end up doing. (Wait till I finish the next post! )

I haven't read Memnoch the Devil, though I did read a trilogy long ago in college by R.A. MacAvoy called Damiano, Damiano's Lute and Raphael. Don't even remember them, really, except that the main character is befriended and advised by the archangel Raphael. I think that at some level that played into my casting the main character as someone who is pretending to be Michael.

Real historical fiction (as opposed to the kind of more loose speculative histories I tend to read by Drake, Flint, and Stirling) seems to be quite an exacting field. On a lot of the sites I've looked at, people can be very sensitive about inaccuracies and distortions. So I guess I'm trying my best to adapt history in the style of the loose speculative history and hoping not to offend any purists!

I'm really quite pleased to be learning some of the things I've picked up doing the research for this AAR. Stuff I would never have bothered to find out otherwise. For that and the geography lesson (another subject I was always apathetic about!) I offer a big "Thank You" to EU!

 

[Morlac]

Interlude 1543: Reconquista

Interlude 1543: Reconquista

Difficulties show men what they are. In case of any difficulty remember that God has pitted you against a rough antagonist that you may be a conqueror, and this cannot be without toil.
Epictetus (50 AD - 138 AD)

The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.
H. L. Mencken (1880 - 1956)

Castle Calatrava la Nueva, Southern Castile
(Image from Castles of the Crown of Castile)

“Please stop fussing over the straps, Diego. I’m not going into battle; I’m going to a meeting. It hardly matters whether or not the armor is fitted perfectly.” Agustin Alcon, Duque de Valencia and Master of the Order of Calatrava lightly tapped the knuckles of the young man attending him. The motion, cruelly exaggerated by the gauntlet he was unaccustomed to wearing, brought a flash of pain and surprise to the younger man’s eyes. The Duque observed with pride how quickly that instant of openness was mastered, and how naturally his son Diego returned to the impassive stare Agustin had learned from his own father.

“Father, the Abbot of Morimond Himself has made the journey from Champagne to meet with you and inspect us. Morimond is rich and powerful. He has full spiritual authority over us, granted by the Pope. And he is French—or Burgundian if you prefer—and neither people are over fond of Spain at the moment. I care not what peace you have made with His Holiness. Whether you will admit it or not, you are going into battle. The armor may not protect you in this clash, but I will, by God, see to it that at least it does not chafe and distract you—so hold still a moment!” Giving back a bit of his own, Diego braced and cinched the leather strap he was holding so tightly that the elder Alcon was forced to wince.

“I know all of that, my son. But it pleases me that you know it as well. Do not worry. His Holiness has already deigned to discuss with me privately the reason for his visit. You see, he will be announcing the full support of the Church for the Order.” The Duque smiled and adjusted the light cotton surcoat he would wear over his armor, emblazoned with the arms of both Valencia and Calatrava. After two decades in the Order, nearly half that as its Master, seeing those arms together still stirred him to pride and something he would be the first to call duty.

“Full support? Pah! They already cede us half the tithe in our lands, as they have for all of the successful Orders. The Pope has decreed an end to our vows of chastity and poverty. What more would they give us?” Diego laughed, even as he began to consider the possibilities.

“You would be surprised, my boy. As will many, I am sure. Since the suppression of the Knights Templar, no Order has been able or willing to seek such influence and wealth, lest they too become the targets of envy and gossip. We, however, sit atop a confluence of events that will transform our age. Ah, I envy you Diego. I have continued my father’s work, but I will not live to see it completed. You, however… Even if you do not see it finished, you will see it flower at last.” The Duque trailed off a bit at that, suddenly and uncomfortably aware that he had lapsed into unseemly reverie. The curse of old men, who no longer have the luxury of time to sit in quiet contemplation nor the folly of youth to scorn such moments.

“We are not in open chambers, father. Speak plainly. What concessions will the Abbot offer?” Diego forced himself to outward calm, knowing from long and tedious lessons that anything else would only earn him a lecture that would further delay the answer.

“Everything, Diego. Everything.” The elder Alcon said. “The Church will sign away their right to their half of the tithe for a hundred years, for the token sum of 1 ducat per annum. Moreover, we are to receive all fees and collections. The clergy within our lands will receive a special stipend of support from the Church in place of those monies. And of course, this also applies to all new lands brought under our control.

“But there is even more. A half dozen of the smaller Orders will be brought under our leadership and similarly gifted with increased monies. Not just our Brother Orders in Spain, but in Portugal, France, Savoy, and Genoa. We may very well end up the most favored, wealthiest and largest Order in Christendom. Who can compete? The Knights of Rhodes? Hah—they have not stirred from their Isle in half a century. Even the Turks no longer respect them! The Teutonic Order? They have wealth and power, yes. But their days are numbered. Their enemies have surrounded them, and they chose the wrong friends.”

“That is preposterous.” Diego stammered. “For what purpose? The Holy Land is once again in Christian hands. The Turk is held at bay, and the power of the other Muslim states is smashed to ruin. Why give free rein to a crusading order when you have no crusade?”

The old Duque smiled his broadest yet. The boy had the right of it, and his question was its own answer.

“Reconquista.” The word was a whisper, but for any man of the past half millennium, the word resonated with such powerful meaning that it could as easily have been the lusty cheer of a thousand voices.

“Reconquista ? No. It is insanity. What are we to reconquer? The reconquista ended when we drove the last Moorish prince from Grenada. They have no more of our land to take back. Even if you stretch the meaning to include the Holy Land, you are too late—it is already ours. ” Diego cried.

“You think too small.” Agustin said, deliberately leaning conspiratorially towards his son. “Did God not create the Earth for Man to have dominion over it? And is not the One True Faith the just and proper heir of Adam? Would you say that He created the Earth for the Sons of Allah? And yet the Catholic World, which should encompass every corner of the Earth is, as proven by these maps our explorers keep making, but a poor co-tenant sharing the land with millions of Heathen. We will be the agents of God in changing that state of affairs.”

Diego shook his head, still struggling with the news. “Father, we both know that the Church is simply using us in this. King Carlos has shown that he will not bow to them in all things, and they seek instruments to humble him. They will not be satisfied by simply blocking his rightful assumption to the throne of Holy Roman Emperor. Are we to defy his will? Will we declare war when he will not? And what if he opposes us? Will we make war upon our own King at the behest of the Church?”

“Good and fair questions all.” Agustin replied thoughtfully as he walked to the chamber door. It was almost time for the audience with the Abbott. “So good that I will not answer them. Someday you will succeed me. Think hard on those matters now, that you have answers by the time someone requires them of you. For myself… Well, I think you know me, Diego.

“When a man walks a narrow and treacherous path, his best tool is a long pole weighted at each end. That is politics, my son. Keep your friends and your enemies alike at a distance, and set them against each other with you in the middle. With luck, none of you ends up in the abyss.”


OOC Historical Notes:

My original intent was to use the Inquisition as a key player among the villains. Much to my surprise, there seems to be quite a bit of scholarship saying that the portrayal of the Inquisition I have always seen is wrong. Rather than play on what seems for some to be a sensitive issue, I’m picking on other targets!

The Order of Calatrava was real, the second largest of the four major Spanish military orders. Administration of the order was taken over by King Ferdinand in 1486 at the death of its Master Don García López de Padilla. The Pope (who had final say on matters relating to the military orders) allowed this, with the caveat that in future a Pope may choose a new Master of the Order. In the primary timeline, on Ferdinand’s death, the Order appealed to the Church for permission to elect a new Master. They were opposed by the Cardinal Regent, who later became Pope Adrian VI (1522-1523). Adrian VI ordered a permanent transfer of administration to the King in 1523 by Papal Bull.

The rich and influential Abbey of Morimond in Champagne did have spiritual authority granted by various Popes over the Military Orders of Spain, as well as orders in Portugal and Savoy (e.g. the Militia of Christ). Calatrava and other orders commonly held the rights to receive up to half of the tithes, and part or all of “first fruits”, fees and offerings within the lands they protected or brought into the church. The exact division of these incomes was a common source of contention between the Orders and the local bishops.

There is every reason to think that things would proceed differently in this alternate history. Ferdinand and Isabela, while remaining loyal Catholics, did not persecute or make large-scale efforts to convert the Muslims they conquered. Carlos I showed from the outset of his reign every intention to follow the same policies of religious tolerance with Catholicism first among equals as a favored state religion. Moreover, the Papal States in this history stubbornly cling to their alliance with France, whose antipathy to Spain was well on its way to legendary proportions. With the order’s original mission of conquering the Moors long since past, and success beyond anyone’s highest expectations in Africa and the Mideast, the Church could easily see the military orders as a useful tool to keep the ever-more powerful Spanish King in line. Changes such as the virtual abandonment of the vows of chastity and poverty would historically have come fairly soon (1540 and 1551), and here were used early as an incentive to tie the Order more closely to the Church than to the Crown.

Doing a bit of research for AARs is fascinating stuff, but I admit my ignorance and sloppy scholarship. I’ve been relying heavily on The Catholic Encyclopedia; The Military Order of Calatrava; and Castles of the Crown of Castile for much of this information. Any mistakes or distortions are probably mine rather than theirs. Hopefully nobody will take offense.

 

[Morlac]

Chapter Four: 1544-1549 The Rising and Falling of Time

Chapter Four: 1544-1549 The Rising and Falling of Time


[color=sky blue]There is timing in the whole life of the warrior, in his thriving and declining, in his harmony and discord. Similarly, there is timing in the Way of the merchant, in the rise and fall of capital. All things entail rising and falling timing. You must be able to discern this.

Miyamoto Musashi (1584 - 1645)[/color]


From the Collected Journals of Michael, Winter 1549

We are not yet ready to take on the world, not yet strong enough, nor rich enough, nor settled enough. We do not even know, officially, of the great Eastern nations though I know that they must be there. The embers of nationalist fury still smolder in too many of our provinces. And I know that the blasted John Calvin is out there, merrily changing the world. All too soon that match will light under the powder keg in the Dutch Lowlands.

Spain has had four years of peace now, and the first of our armistice treaties will be expiring soon. If only the Duke of Valencia were a bit less persuasive, a bit less of the political wizard, perhaps we could keep the Reconquista on a leash for a few years more. A decade perhaps—time enough to quiet the worst of the revolutionaries and integrate all of our new holdings into the Kingdom, maybe even raise a few refineries. But the man is what he is, and his support grows daily. After all, have we not won every war since the glorious day of Spain’s birth in the union of Aragon and Castile? Though I have taken great pains to keep my presence a secret, still it is said in the streets that God blesses the Throne of Spain. For which, naturally His Eminence the Pope takes credit publicly while denying privately. None of which sits well with Henri II in France, and with most of the other heads of state. Our relations with most of the world save our allies are pitiable, and I know that like the Romans did to Caesar, they will not hesitate to slip their knives in when they can attack us in a mob.

Carlos has reigned now for thirty-three years, all the while balancing the demands of Church and State as well as his own conscience. In the primary timeline, this good and great man would have assumed his rightful and deserved place as Holy Roman Emperor only three years into his reign. Now, it would be fair to assume that he will never hold that honor. If things continue as they have, he might be counted lucky simply to avoid excommunication…

These past six years have been a storm of activity. The cycle of war was set in motion once again by a small army of the Reconquista overrunning the Iroquois capital of Mohawk in 1544. Within a month, they were annexed, but this simple lightning-fast war set off a cascade of Declarations of War from all the neighboring alliances. France, with their allies Savoy and Helvetia came first. The Persians attacked only days later, though their allies in Uzbek and Astrakhan ignored their call to arms. The Ottoman Turks had been building a vast and grand alliance, which they set upon us—the Turks, Wallachia, Oman, Nubia, Aden and Crimea all declaring against us. Only Hungary and Venice dishonored that call. The Protestant League of Hessen, Kleves, and the Palatinat then declared against us as well. Within the space of a few weeks a flood tide of soldiery threatened to engulf our kingdom from all sides.

On my advice, Carlos manfully swallowed his pride and that of our nation. The unbroken string of victories and unbought peaces we had enjoyed gave us a certain power and prestige, true. But just as surely they set Spain as the target of every petty kinglet and prince with something to prove or a desire to curry favor with their betters. We bought off the great Muslim alliance of the Turks for 250 ducats, and with teeth gritted yielded Holland to Hessen. This allowed us to concentrate our forces in France and Persia, which after hard fighting brought us Navarre, Auverne, Cevennes, Persis, and Awhaz. Strategically, this left France’s allies in Helvetia and Savoy pocketed with the provinces of Lyonnais and Dauphine, cut off from the main body of France. Taking Navarre also removed our casus belli against France, which ordinarily I would have struggled to preserve. But under the circumstances, Spain will not be engaging in any war of aggression against fellow Catholics, and after all, there seems to be no end of non-Catholics.

The small setbacks I advised Carlos to accept were insufficient to change people’s opinions. Domestically, the Reconquista papered over them easily. And though these were all defensive wars, Spain’s reputation in the court of world opinion has suffered badly. I fear now that there may be no going back, and the next time we go to war the whole world will stand united against us.

(OOC: For some reason, my BB went from 16 to 22 from the beginning to end of the war, even though my only offensive gain was the Annexation of the Iroquois in Mohawk. If I understand correctly, that should have only been a 1-point gain. Either that was incorrect or somewhere along the way I slipped up and made separate peaces that converted my defensive wars to offensive.)

Over the next few years, we rebuilt our armies, paying special attention to the Lowland provinces. We pushed the former Moroccan colony in Sahara to city status, laid down a refinery in Orania, expanded our presence in the major Centers of Trade, and were pleasantly surprised by the opening of a new Center of Trade in our colonial city of Tahiti—the first such Center in the New World. We also started work on a modest Red Sea fleet, designed to carry the Conquistador Lope de Aguirre to the shores of India.

On the diplomatic front, we spent lavishly on gifts to our few friends. Cologne consented to a Proposal of Unification, which was followed almost immediately by our acceptance of Genoa into the Grand Alliance. In turn, Genoa soon bent their knee to the King (who still refused to be called Emperor, saying that the only Catholic Emperor is the Holy Roman Emperor) and proudly accepted vassalization.

Elsewhere in the world, war and death still found occupation without us. Denmark annexed Holstein, and was almost immediately inundated by mobs of rebels. The two great Protestant alliances of Saxony/Brandenburg/Hannover and Hessen/Kleves/Palatinat came to blows over a triviality that ended in total Saxon victory with Saxony’s wholesale annexation of Kleves and the surrender of Munster from Hessen. Meanwhile, the Hanseatic League sought refuge with the Saxon alliance, but when the Danes declared against them only four days later, every member broke faith with the Hanse and simply reformed the alliance without them. The Hanse were forced to pay a token indemnity to the Danes that winter, escaping cheaply as the Danes realized that their rebel problems weren’t going away.

The King remains in good cheer, telling me often that Spain has survived the worst her enemies can throw at her. I hesitate to reveal too much to him, and I worry too that my knowledge of the future is rapidly growing obsolete as the accumulated weight of changed history warps the world I once knew. Still, there is much that we can usefully discuss at our next meeting a few days hence.

I still do not make my appearances too frequently, lest the myth and mystery surrounding my “Archangel Michael” persona fade. But the King and I long ago established the custom of meeting once or twice a year, and it would be difficult to measure which of us looks forward to the meetings more.

Several years ago, after his son and heir Felipe reached the age of fifteen, he too was welcomed into our conversations. The boy’s lively wit and obvious appreciation of a broad range of subjects from mathematics to the arts are a delight. Sadly, in matters of politics and leadership I fear for him. There, his keen intellect often fails him, as he looks for all sides of every issue, worrying each subject and crisis to death with endless analysis and debate. Sharp-witted and lively debate, to be sure, but on the whole the impression and perhaps the reality is one of indecision. He trusts not his advisors, and seeks to master each new topic himself so as to form his own opinion undiluted by the agendas of others. An understandable trait in one who has grown up in this court. But Felipe will one day be King, and he must learn that to be King is to lead...

 

[unmerged(9191)]

I liked it

I just wished you would have gotten a little more in-depth with some of the war issues, but that could have gotten real messy in notes as there were so many.

If i understand right when you annexed iraquois (bad spelling) you got 1BB +1 per province.

A little less background would be nice as it takes alot away from what you did. As a reader i tend to focus a little too much on the story and forget/not pay attention to the playing part. But they may be just me.

Anyways its great keep it up

(PS teach them turks a lesson)

 

[Morlac]

Originally posted by Imperial Army
I liked it

I just wished you would have gotten a little more in-depth with some of the war issues, but that could have gotten real messy in notes as there were so many.

If i understand right when you annexed iraquois (bad spelling) you got 1BB +1 per province.

A little less background would be nice as it takes alot away from what you did. As a reader i tend to focus a little too much on the story and forget/not pay attention to the playing part. But they may be just me.

Anyways its great keep it up

(PS teach them turks a lesson)

Thanks for the feedback --

(a) On the war front, I've had to make a decision on whether to keep detailing both the war details and the storyline. Since Spain is going to be in more or less constant warfare from this point on, a detailed account of troop movements is going to get ugly and boring really fast, so where necessary I'll compromise war detail in favor of story. At this point in the story I think I've got something like 300,000 men under arms, spread out amongst most of western europe, north africa, the mideast, and the americas. By the next couple of wars that number increases drastically, as do the number of fronts I'm fighting on. Generally, what I'll try to do is give enough detail to provide the overall flavor of the war. the war of 1544 was just annoying, so I had even less to say about it!

(b) The Iroquois only had one province. As they were a pagan nation, I should only have gotten 0 + 1/prov for annexing them... I can't figure out how I got 6BB out of those wars while ceding Holland to Hessen! (And yeah, I knew the revolts were coming and decided to make at least one province somebody else's problem )

(c) When you say that you'd like less background, do you mean less storyline, or less out-of-character remarks, or fewer "interludes" or something else entirely? In any event, if as a writer I can get the reader to focus so much on the story that they forget the game elements, that's a big compliment!

(d) OOC, the Turks won't get that lesson for quite some time, for a variety of purely game (rather than story) related reasons. The bulk of their remaining adjacent territories are Orthodox, which I'd rather not take over. The remaining non-orthodox ones either don't adjoin my own lands or are so poor that they make bad targets. Add to that the fact that they have no more lands outside europe, so I'll be hit with 3% nationalism revolt risk in each province. And then of course there is also the fact that they make a very useful bogeyman to keep their other neighbors distracted and off my back

But don't worry, the "Ottoman Question" will be answered eventually...

 

[unmerged(9191)]

By the less background i meant

Less out of character comments during the playing summary.
I like the interludes and a story line to go with the strategy but reading it all is very distracting (but it is VERY well written)

I can see why you didn't keep many notes ( I take careful war notes, but not ever advancing very far in a game for various reasons i have no real experience on notes in a 4 front war) and reading them would be a bit of a pain without a map at hand.

Either way this is a very good AAR.

 

[Morlac]

Originally posted by Imperial Army
By the less background i meant

Less out of character comments during the playing summary.
I like the interludes and a story line to go with the strategy but reading it all is very distracting (but it is VERY well written)

I can see why you didn't keep many notes ( I take careful war notes, but not ever advancing very far in a game for various reasons i have no real experience on notes in a 4 front war) and reading them would be a bit of a pain without a map at hand.

Either way this is a very good AAR.

Okay -- in future I will try to restrict OOC stuff to either a separate post or comments at the beginning or end of the post.

About the interludes and story line, I am afraid you'll have to put up with it I am using the AAR as an opportunity/excuse to brush up on my writing skills as well as to do some historical research for my non-EU gaming.

I've been trying to force myself to take better notes during play, but it's tough when so much is happening at once. As it is, the very process of writing the AAR has slowed my game to a crawl (I have gotten through only about 12 years of game play since beginning the AAR over two weeks ago!)

And who needs maps? After you've conquered the world a few times, you should know the period geography by heart!

(Actually, I have found that the map that comes with EU2 is an indispensable resource for my AAR writing. Sure there are major differences, and many more provinces on the EU2 map. But a lot of the information is almost identical. Saves me from having to boot the game just to check a province name!)

 

[unmerged(8545)]

Yes, an occasional map would be handy - it does give a quick impression of your situation.

 

[Morlac]

Originally posted by CitizenPaul
Yes, an occasional map would be handy - it does give a quick impression of your situation.

I'm up to around 1615 in play now, and for the past 20-30 years I've been trying to archive more save files so I can generate screenies.

But in a global conquest style game, it's so hard to give a "quick" impression, since you need something like 5-10 screenies to cover all your territory Still -- I promise some screenies from circa 1575 soon after the next installment...

For quite some time I've been in a pattern of something like 3 years of war (as much as I can take before war exhaustion begins) followed by 3 to 4 years of peace. It's slow going, and I'm really debating how to describe it in the AAR. If I try to do one post per cycle, we'll all be here forever!

 

[Morlac]

Interlude: Winter 1549—So Much Yet Undone

Interlude: Winter 1549—So Much Yet Undone


We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done.

Morning Prayer, General Confession, Book of Common Prayer (1662).


Christmas Eve 1549, the personal Chapel of King Carlos I

I was no longer on my feet, and the urge to close my eyes was strong. Something tugged at me, and I felt an irresistible sensation that there were things yet undone. I struggled to focus, and saw that the men were still standing in the doorway of the Royal Chapel. Two of them were still gaping, slack-jawed and blinking at the third. If I were not similarly stunned, perhaps I might have laughed. The third, still holding his smoking pistol, seemed quite pleased by my condition. He laughed in a short bass bark like a circus seal applauding its own cleverness and awaiting its fishy reward.

“You see? He is no angel from Heaven—he bleeds just like a mortal man! The King has been tricked by an agent of Satan, and we have exposed him!” The man with the gun laughed as he holstered the discharged weapon and pulled its twin from his robes. Underneath them, I could see the glint of armor and I smiled myself though the effort cost me dearly.

“Fool. Of course I bleed. When He sent His only son to live amongst you, what form was he given? And when the Son was slain by pitiful fools like you, did he not bleed? And as he bled, he forgave his tormentors.” At that, I coughed, another painful move, but a necessary distraction from my hand reaching out to a concealed wire running around the wall close to the floor. Convenient, then, that I happened to be on the floor.

“Of course, forgiveness was his calling. Mine is retribution.” At that, I tugged the wire and somewhere in the room, two copper contacts came together and closed a circuit, suddenly drawing energy from the primitive but very large batteries I’d installed. A blue-white spark of lightning flashed from the decorative copper tiles of the ceiling around the entryway down to their twins in the floor. The laughing man was directly in its path, and covered in metal. The results were predictable and not pretty.

My method of travel permits only the transmission of information, not matter. The lightning trap I had devised was a crude, one-shot affair made with the best materials I could obtain in the 16th century. So too was the light coat of gold-plated mail I wore—impressive looking and able to turn the slash of a blade but useless against a bullet. Luckily, the remaining assassins were intimidated sufficiently to turn and run.

Since the first shot had not brought the guards running, I assumed that at least the nearer ones had been killed or bought. Hopefully some remained and would capture the fleeing assassins. For the moment, though they were no longer my problem. The bullet had done far too much damage to be repaired here and in this time.

Only moments before, the King, his heir the Infante Felipe, and I had been concluding another of our meetings. I slipped into a meditative state, reviewing our conversation, trying to fix it into my mind so that my next “incarnation” would retain the knowledge of these events.


********************


“What religious crisis, Michael? We are at peace, and even the Reconquista are still licking their wounds and counting their gains from the last war.” Felipe demanded hotly. A gentle touch of his father’s hand to his shoulder made the young prince stiffen for a moment, and then his tone and demanor relaxed a bit.

“We have spoken of the Protestants before, and of John Calvin. I believe that the time is coming when he or someone like him will split the Church again into even more factions. Calvin’s teachings are persuasive and well-reasoned, and support for them grows daily. Yet they are sufficiently different that I think they will prove to be yet another movement, and that is trouble indeed.” I answered as I idly thumbed my now dog-eared copy of Calvin’s “Institutes of the Christian Religion.”

“Why should that be a problem? We tolerate all religions, while acknowledging the Catholic Church as primary in our own hearts. If another creed takes root here, well why should we not embrace it as well?” Felipe interjected impatiently.

King Carlos smiled sadly as he answered. “Because, my son, tolerance is not the unending river of compassion and good will that it should be. Only God has infinite understanding and love for Man. Man, on the other hand, has quite a finite reserve.

“Think of it this way. On the major holidays of each of our nation’s religions, as King I must attend the services of that faith. But what happens when two faiths share the same date for a holiday? I may choose one, and thus affront the other. Or I may choose neither, and thus offend both.”

I nodded my agreement. “The same principle extends to all levels of human interaction. There is a limited amount of everything from money to goodwill, and the share allotted to each faith is right now as little as possible. From what I have seen, it is only Spain’s great stability and strong traditions and institutions which enable her to survive without daily major unrest. The Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, and Muslim faiths—let alone the various Pagan beliefs, strain us to the breaking point. Adding another will leave us a powder keg, ready to explode from the slightest spark—a political crisis, a war, anything.”

The King had been pacing slowly and twisting his great signet ring. Now he leaned forward and asked gravely “What then would you have us do? Tolerance is a cornerstone of our nation. To break that oath is to repudiate all that I and my family have done. Not to mention that it plays into the hands of the Reconquista and the Pope quite neatly.”

“I cannot say, my Lord. It depends on you, and what sort of legacy you hope to leave. If you hold to the ideal, there will be revolts, purges, and reprisals throughout the Kingdom any time the slightest pretext can be found. Millions will die. But if you do not, then you must choose a faith to repress, and you must do so ruthlessly. Those people will suffer just as surely.

“If you choose the first course you will be forced to establish huge patrols everywhere to combat the rebels and keep order—not just on the frontiers but in the heartland of the nation. It will make the Inquisition seem a small and pale thing indeed. On the other hand, given the second course you will be forced to deny a people their faith. In small provinces you may be able to use missionaries to convert them to Catholicism, though that is but another form of denial. But in larger provinces there will be unceasing bloodshed. In time, after decades of it, such places will be so denuded of population that you can again use missionaries. It has been done before, but it is a cold-blooded tactic.” I shook my head sadly—there was no easy answer here.

“Father, we can at least buy time. The Orthodox have no significant populations in any of our lands. We can, at least officially, be horribly intolerant of them with no significant consequences for our subjects. And though it be expensive and inefficient, perhaps we can eventually convince the few surviving Orthodox lands to join our alliance.” Felipe suggested.

“True enough, and we will do it, though in the long run it is only buying time. There are Orthodox lands spread through Russia, Poland, Venice, Hungary, the Horde, Astrakhan, Turkey, and Ryazan. There are too many Orthodox lands for one or two nations to hold them all unless those nations be as fated as our own. Even the advance of the Turks has stalled now that they are loathed by all Christian realms. Alliances are like cupping water in your hands—the more you grasp the more slips through your fingers. We can count on holding at most four other nations to our banner reliably, and the less the allies have in common, the harder it will be to hold the alliance together!” The King brought his clasped hands apart and let the imaginary water cupped within run to the floor.

At that moment, the door to the chapel swung wide. Father Ignacio, a kindly and beatific soul, stood in the doorway with three armed men dressed as monks behind him. The poor Father trembled with the impropriety of interrupting the Royal family in their private meditations.

“What is the meaning of this? You dare to bring weapons into the presence of the King?” Carlos roared, moving even as he did to interpose his body between them and his son.

A moment later, and Father Ignacio was lifted almost off his feet and pulled bodily to the rear of the hallway. One of the intruders stepped into the chapel while the remaining two guarded the door.

“Our apologies, your excellency. But you have refused time and again to accept the charitable and forgiving embrace of Mother Church. This time, we can brook no refusal.” the lead man said smoothly.

“You dare to threaten the King? At this time, in this place, in this company?” Felipe roared, stealing a quick glance at me, as I edged closer to him and his father.

“I dare because I must, and this is the best suited time and place. The King is advised poorly, and his policies are an insult to all good Christians, forced to treat with heathens and pagans and heretics as if they were our equals. It must stop, and it will stop.” The leader’s gun, which had been in an easy rest position pointed at the floor between us, lifted up to aim more directly at us.

“You who speak of Christian faith would dare to desecrate a Church? Commit regicide? The gates of Heaven will forever be closed to such as you.” I thundered, stepping into the persona of Archangel Michael as forcefully as I dared. A surreptitious press of a button on the underside of the table behind me switched on a small and crude electric lightbulb in the ceiling panels above me, washing me in a soft golden glow.

“This Church has already been desecrated by your presence, impostor. If you are an angel, then prove it!” My accuser swiveled and I could see in his eyes and the set of his jaw the instant he had steeled himself to pull the trigger. I had no more tricks within reach, and there was no question of whether the King’s life was more important than my own. I leaped to protect the King just as the gun flashed.

********************

I awoke in the body of a young man, one of the many cook’s helpers in the Palace kitchens. I’d chosen him some months ago as the likeliest candidate, given that he had no family, very few friends, and seemed unhappy and restless, the sort who everyone might expect to go missing someday.

My travel was inexact at best, and I knew that much time had likely passed since the death of my previous host. I struggled to my feet in the darkness and stepping forward, bruised my face roughly on iron bars. With a sinking feeling I reached down to my ankles and found the same cold iron there. Jail. I was a prisoner. This was not good.

Even if I accepted the situation as hopeless and killed my own host, another reincarnation so soon after the last carried many additional risks beyond the usual small chances of mishap. Perhaps this was only a minor sentence for some petty crime, and I would be free soon. I called out in the darkness, hoping for a fellow prisoner or sympathetic guard who could tell me my sentence.

“Hoi! What’s the date, do you think? How much time left on my sentence?”

From the distant darkness there came a dry chuckle. “It’s the Twelfth of August, in the Year of Our Lord 1552 and you have all the time in the world left on your sentence, my lad. As was explained to you at your trial, the penalty for conspiracy against the King is Death or Life imprisoned, and the good King chose to be lenient with you.”

So much yet undone.

 

[Morlac]

OOC

Sorry to post another Interlude so soon after the last. But Calvin is coming and I wanted to explain why the religion sliders were going to be adjusted. (And there are some other things that these developments help to explain.)

Plus, Michael was getting a little too complacent in his trust that his "reincarnations" would always work out the way he expected...

The next interval will cover roughly 1550-1561, which will include the Dutch revolts, and the War of Dutch Independence (which rapidly becomes a pretext for global war...) I hope to get it posted by the weekend!

 

[King of Men]

Superlative work as usual! Thanks for the tip about Byzantium, and I'll certainly be dropping by to read your AAR, if nothing else.

 

[Dale]

*wild cheers*

Superb writing!

It's good to know that at least "some" people play Spain differently to the usual 'colonise the world' approach.

 

[Morlac]

Thanks!

Originally posted by Dale
*wild cheers*

Superb writing!

It's good to know that at least "some" people play Spain differently to the usual 'colonise the world' approach.

And it's nice to be appreciated! (I'll be sure to check out your AAR in a moment...)

Funny, I hadn't really thought that I was playing Spain much differently than the way I'd guess others would--I thought I was just describing it differently . I'm still doing a fair bit of colonizing, though I am taking the opportunity to use some colonists for conversion purposes. (And I keep debating with myself as to whether I should do more. The benefits would be vast, especially in the still-very-pagan Americas. But conversion goes against the whole spirit of religious tolerance established in the storyline. So to date, much of the conversion has been a side effect of "topping off" captured colonies.

 

[Morlac]

Chapter Five, Part One 1550-1556—All Pity Choked

Chapter Five, Part One 1550-1556—All Pity Choked

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,
--- Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue ---
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use
And dreadful objects so familiar
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.

William Shakespeare (Primary Timeline 1564 - 1616), "Julius Caesar", Act 3 scene 1

From the Collected Journals of Michael, Winter 1556

Four long years it has been since I awoke in my cell for the first time. I tried suicide once, about six months into my sentence. The guards evidently have orders against allowing such things, and while I woke with a splitting headache, it was yet in this body.

After that, I confess that I fell into a melancholy. My mission would have to wait the decades it would take me to die a natural death. It was purest chance that gave me an opportunity and shook me awake from my stupor.

The guards use chalk to scrawl symbols on the walls next to our cell doors. One hash mark might mean that breakfast had been given, an ‘X’ might denote an uncooperative prisoner who bore extra watching, etcetera. One day, a stub of this chalk fell to the floor and rolled into my cell. After some time, I idly reached for it and began to scrawl out a variety of thoughts on the walls of my cell.

A few days later, the prison Priest came to visit and offer services to the Catholic prisoners. Father Jimenez noticed my writing, which by now had become rather florid and encompassed much of the cell in a variety of languages. His interest piqued, he spoke to me at some length, asking me how many languages I was literate in. When I told him, he became quite interested, and offered me a job as his assistant in the prison. Guards and prisoners alike needed someone literate to be able to read their mail to them, and to draft replies. In addition, there were books and hymnals to be copied in plenty.

I took to the task with a will, as it offered me the hope of gleaning some information about the world and the state of the Kingdom from the varied correspondence, as well as access to pen and paper that I could continue my journals.

The news was grim, yet not so bad as I had feared. King Carlos had put the assassins to trial on the grounds of attempted regicide and the murder of Brother Michael Erhardt—a “visiting monk” with whom he had been meeting in the chapel. Under intense questioning, the conspirators yielded numerous names of those who had helped them obtain access to the castle and to smuggle weapons inside. However, while there seemed a clear confluence of beliefs and goals between the Reconquista and the conspirators, no direct link was found. Alcon and his damnable Papist Calatravans had gotten away clean, it seemed.

But not quite. While there was not enough hard evidence to warrant the King moving openly against them, there was certainly enough “circumstantial” evidence to convince the King and some of those he chose to share it with. From the many fragmentary reports I received, it appeared that the King had been quite moved by the attack, and had become more outspoken than ever on the ideals of religious tolerance and a State free from the machinations of the Pope. In some quarters, sympathy for the devilish Reconquista was definitely waning.

This allowed the King a certain freedom of action he might not otherwise have enjoyed, and the canny old politician used it to the hilt. The Reconquista were like a giant pyramid scheme. Their immense wealth and prestige enabled them to attract vast numbers of followers, who themselves added to that wealth and fame. And since by and large they were used on the frontiers of the Kingdom, they could always be portrayed as heroic defenders of the realm, putting down a ruthless and heretic enemy. This increased their prestige even further, as the lands they captured from the enemy multiplied their wealth.

A week after the trials, King Carlos made a public appeal to all of the Catholic military orders to help keep the peace in the Lowlands. As we’d expected, Calvin’s ideas had taken root at last. In January 1550, the Lowlands came ablaze with revolt, treason, and—for some—heresy.

The Orders were bound by honor and faith to defend these Catholic lands that were suddenly in open revolt. The new Pope, Julius III was also forced to publicly endorse this use of the Orders in the service of Catholicism. But these lands were already part of the Kingdom, and had been for many decades. They belonged to established nobility, and their people were Spanish. Suddenly, the Reconquista was brutally slaughtering its own people, in full view of the heartland of the nation and the eyes of Europe. The Order was now locked in a struggle it could not hope to truly win, expending blood and treasure with wanton abandon, with most of their potential new recruits wincing in sympathy for the rebels. And they could expect no reward for their pains, for the land could not be claimed by right of conquest and settlement. No, they were doing this purely for their Catholic ideals.

Over a hundred thousand men flooded the Lowlands in a human tide led by the famed Duque de Alba, all desperate to restore order quickly and get back to their profitable enterprises on the frontier.

Burning Castle
by Aert Van der Neer, 1650
from Tigertail Virtual Museum

In neighboring Saxony, which had only so recently “taken” Holland from us, they could not get recruits into uniform fast enough to keep up with the rebellions. The Saxons had their fill of rebels by this point, as that spring they annexed Kleves entirely and took Munster from Hessen.

In the strangest and saddest historical footnote to the revolts, a very small band of colonists from the Lowlands rose up with their brethren in the tiny colony of Martinique. By the time this small rebellion was contained, roughly half the original 300 or so colonists were dead.

Through it all, Carlos kept a cool head and a deft touch. In the name of Christian charity and compassion, he declined to use force to break up some of the largest riots in the cities. After putting down numerous small ones, he concentrated most of the units into Friesen and Flanders, with reserves in Luxembourg. One by one, provinces toppled—Holland first, then Zeeland and The Hague. Time and again, massive uprisings in Flanders were allowed to siege and take the city. When the rebel armies moved on, out into the countryside, the Reconquista in bloody battle met them and the cities were taken by storm in equally bloody assault.

In January 1552 there was quite a political crisis. As the revolts in the now mostly Reformed Lowlands continued, our longtime ally England announced her embrace of the Reform movement, breaking all ties with the Catholic Church. Our grand alliance with her, which had withstood so many wars over six decades, came to an abrupt end.

Again, our King was magnificent. His diplomats were quick to point out to King Edward VI that while some of our Reformed provinces were revolting, it was more out of a spirit of emerging nationalism than religious repression. Spain had embraced the Reform movement from the beginning, and several of our holdings in what had been southern France had become bastions of that faith with no ill will. Thus reassured, and with the lavish gift of Spanish funding for a new English fleet of warships to patrol the Channel, Edward happily rejoined the alliance in March.

The signing was none too soon. Our diplomat, Hernan Ayonwatha, son of an Iroquois chief, had barely arrived in Castile with the new treaty when the Lowlands gave a final wracking spasm and birthed the new and proud Dutch nation. The Netherlands, composed of Holland, The Hague, Zeeland, and Friesen declared war on us that April.

From what I have been able to discern, there was no small skullduggery in this. The rebel forces had been a ragtag lot, with little training and slipshod weapons and armor. Virtually overnight, however, the victorious mobs of freedom fighters emerged as a hardened, unified and well-equipped Dutch national army of almost 50,000. If only I had better sources of information I might be able to determine how this was done. One of our many enemies from within or without had surely planted supplies and equipment with the rebels, and given them the training they needed to go from rabble to army.

Once the word had gone out that Spain was otherwise engaged, the jackals came out to feed, disparate in religion and philosophy but united in purpose by their hatred of us. In May the Catholic French alliance declared war, followed in July by a bizarre uber-coalition of Turkey, Poland, Hungary, Ryazan, Bohemia, the Knights, the Papal States and Brandenburg! Of those, Eire disavowed her treaty with the French to stay neutral. Brandenburg, the Knights, and the Papal States disavowed their treaties as well. Eire (and later, the Knights) found a new ally in the Doge of Venice, while the faithless Pope sought refuge in the odd alliance of Portugal and Mysore.

The war around the Netherlands raged hot, with the Duque de Alba’s forces spread thin as they tried to combat the Dutch and retake the fallen garrison of Flanders, which thankfully had not ratified the Articles of Independence that created the Netherlands. While one force kept the Dutch armies busy and another sieged Flanders, the Duque took a third to each Dutch province. One by one, they fell to the Duques repeated assaults—a benefit of our original policy of withholding fortifications to the Lowlands. Barely a year later, in May of 1553, the Dutch were forced to the table, and made to sign away The Hague, Zeeland and Friesen. But the victory was a costly one, as the grand Duque, who should have had many years of service left to his country, was slain leading the final assault on Holland.

On the French front, things progressed smoothly as well. With the Reconquista providing the bulk of our forces in the Lowlands, a large part of the national army had been available to be stationed on peacekeeping duties in the former French holdings. These units were quickly turned against the French, as for the first time our local forces approached parity with theirs. By March of ‘53, Ile de France had fallen and was sacked. Our victorious troops bore away the French navigational charts, which greatly assisted our own mapmakers. The humbled French quickly signed away the heartland provinces of Champagne and Lyonnais, with a token gift of 55 ducats besides.

The war with the Turkish superalliance was not going as smoothly. Egypt had long been the single jewel of the region denied our grasp. Her proud walls withstood numerous assaults, and when she was finally captured the Turks slew the first three diplomats sent to request her, even though by then we had taken several other holdings from them. Finally, with ulterior motives clearly written across his face, the wily old Sultan Suleyman I bade us leave with Egypt and Mekkah both in October of 1553. We could not see the wisdom in this sudden reversal, until a few months later, in January of 1554, when the Turkish superalliance suddenly declared war on Venice and her new ally Eire.

The Turks had the upper hand by far, and pushed their advantages in this war. By the Spring of 1556, they controlled Tyrol and Istria, and the walls of Illyria and Venice were days from breaching. The panicked Doge emptied the treasury and prostrated himself before the Sultan pleading for mercy. Suleyman, still an imposing soldier in his own right after 36 years on the throne, is reported to have said—“This once, you will be spared, by the mercy of Allah and the Ottoman Empire. The next time, we will be coming for you, and there will be no mercy.” And though it cost him a little land, in that moment the Sultan gained new respect and the fear of all of Europe.

With their blood-enemies the Turks occupied looking west, the very next month the Persians unleashed the lions upon their equally hated foes in Oman. The Sultan of Oman had long ago taken Hormouz with a surprise amphibious assault, and that humiliation rankled the Shah of Persia. With the Omani cut out of their traditional alliance with the Turks they were alone and friendless, while the Persians could count on the ready aid of their allies the neighboring Uzbeks. Wave after wave of Persian and Uzbek troops washed across Hormouz, while the brave Omani navy made repeated crossings of the Straits of Hormouz to drop off small guerilla units whose mission seemed to be ranging across Persian territory, burning and playing hell with the Persian supply trains.

After a few months in which victorious Spanish troops were rushed north from Egypt, King Carlos declared war on Persia and the Uzbeks, presumably hoping to expand our sphere of influence in the region and create an even bigger buffer around the Holy Land. In turn, this set off a retaliatory declaration against us by the Palatinat and Hessen, who had stayed neutral towards us all this time, but with whom relations had been drifting ever faster downwards.

That fall there was heavy fighting on both fronts. In August the Uzbeks yielded Elbruz for peace. By October, we were the ones forced to the table, as our local forces—still suffering the loss of the great Duque de Alba—had been humiliated time and again in four separate battles by the smaller and worse equipped Army of the Palatinat. We paid the Electors 250 ducats to end the conflict, wanting to seal a peace and avoid further opportunistic declarations, as we had meanwhile obtained the Persians cession of Lut and Nuyssabin.

At peace once again, Carlos ordered small units of the Reconquista to show the flag in the Caribbean. By the Treaty of Tordesillas, which document the Pope surely regrets and which we had never used, much of the land in the Americas belonged by divine right to Spain. Yet the French had ignored this and planted trading posts all across the Caribbean, in easy distance of our colonial cities. Within a few months, all of them had been reclaimed. And once again, Carlos had hoist the Reconquista by their own petard, using them for their stated mission against their implied one. The French were furious, and le Roi Henri II was supposedly hard pressed to decide whether he was more furious at Spain, the Reconquista, or the Pope!

The trading posts themselves were a small thing, of course, hardly a footnote in our huge economy. But their symbolic value in driving yet another wedge between the Pope and his former beloved allies in France was incalculably vast, and may even have hastened the accession of a new Pope—Paulus IV in 1555.

Meanwhile, construction, exploration, and colonization continued in the face of war. While the Lowlands were ablaze, two goods manufactories were laid down in the Americas, far safer there from rebellion and invasion. Our brave conquistador Lope de Aguirre had finally reached the coast of India in 1555, discovering and helping to colonize the rich but hostile province of Madurai. Numerous colonial expeditions there disappeared without trace as they attempted to reach the interior.

And then there was the political news. In January of ’56, with the spectre of Spanish overlordship looming, the King of Savoy chose foolishly to bend his knee to Henri II of France, cementing their longstanding alliance with an oath of Vassalship. The whispers that this action set off in the European courts had barely died down when two further revelations shocked the world.

Already in his sixties, Agustin Alcon, the aging Duque de Valencia and Grandmaster of the Order of Calatrava, political leader of the Reconquista and confidante to four Popes announced his retirement from most of those offices. His son Diego succeeded him immediately as Duque, and was confirmed Grandmaster of Calatrava a few months later. The elder Alcon was not dead yet, however, and most confidently predicted that he would continue to pull the strings of the Reconquista even with his “official” portfolio gone.
Perhaps it was inspired by Alcon’s decision. Perhaps it was the shock of “Michael’s” death and the pain of waiting six years for him to return. But that September, King Carlos, the man who had for forty years carefully tended and fueled the fire of Spanish glory ignited by his illustrious grandparents abdicated the throne of Greater Spain in favor of his son Felipe, now Felipe II.

As of the last census taken before his abdication, in January of 1555, the Kingdom encompassed 148 capital cities, 65 colonies, and 4 trading posts throughout the world from the Old World to the Americas to Australia to India. When he ascended to the throne in 1516, the Kingdom consisted of “only” 68 capital cities and 22 colonies. Under his glorious stewardship, we had grown from merely a large empire to become perhaps one of the greatest, if not the single largest empire the world had ever seen.

It is perhaps greatly fitting that these two long-time rivals would choose the same moment to pass the torch to the next generation. After all, they came to power at almost the same instant, young men born to a world of possibilities undreamt of in the philosophies of the previous generation. Between them, in the push and pull of their struggles, they shaped a nation and drove it to a greater glory in God’s name and by His Grace. Now it would fall to their sons to determine whether Spain would emerge from the forge as Catholicism’s Sword or its Shield.