In the Footsteps of Charlemagne - The Second Coming of House Karling

[DensleyBlair]

2.5: The Bishop, The Knight, and The Boy: Redux

Chapter Five​

Part two, again taken from the collated and transcribed works of Raymond de Compiègne. My thanks go again to the staff at the University of Paris for their assistance in my research.​

"The God who equipped me with strength and made my way blameless. He made my feet like the feet of a deer and set me secure on the heights. He trained my hands for war so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze." - Psalm 18:32-34​

---

The fire was lit in the hall at the bishop's palace. It was late at night, and Adalbert sat with Benoît. Beside them both, supported on a bed of linen, was Henri. He had fallen on the track after Benoît had told him to run, and had hit his head badly. Benoît had a physician tending to him, and monks had arrived. They stood respectfully out of the way and prayed solemnly. A herald entered.

Contemporary monks in prayer.​

"His lordship, Herbert IV, Comte de Vermandois." Herbert entered as the herald - a stocky lad with a full face - bowed out.

"My lord." Benoît stood and addressed his liege and friend. The two men stood opposite each other. Herbert let an unconvincing smile slip onto his face. Benoît's solemnity betrayed his pleasant expression. Adalbert was on his feet as well. He gave his lord a small Roman salute, acknowledged by Herbert with a nod.

"Why did I ever trust you with this, eh?" Herbert tried to lighten the mood with a small jest, but it was met only with courteous smiles. Every man in the room that night knew how serious the situation was.

"Sire, if I may-" Benoît began.

"Not now, my friend, there are more important things at hand." Herbert, sensing his friend was going to talk to him about their plans, silenced his bishop with pursed lips. He looked over to the young lad on the bed and sighed. "Recover well my lad, God Speed." He let out a subdued smile, "we could make a fine diplomat of you yet." Herbert knew little of the lad laid defenceless in front of him. Benoît had sometimes mentioned him in his letters, and he had, of course, met the boy when the guardianship contract had been agreed, but he knew little else.

"My lord," Adalbert spoke quietly, but with purpose, "has a messenger been sent to his father?"

"Not to my knowledge." Herbert knew what his knight was about to say, "but you have travelled far enough tonight, my friend. Get some rest and I shall find someone to do it on the morrow. Now is not the time." Adalbert nodded and returned to his seat by the fire, silently relieved that he would have an opportunity to rest.

Benoît got up.

"I think now would be a good time for me to retire. The boy is in more than capable hands." Herbert nodded his agreement and bade his chancellor a good night, watching as the monks followed him out. Soon, the physician took Henri and left, leaving Herbert alone with Adalbert.

The count walked over to the fire and sat where Benoît had been. He sat opposite Adalbert - in silence at first, the two men staring into the roaring fire. Herbert was first to break the silence.

"There is talk of war in the south."

"My lord?" Adalbert was evidently slightly taken aback by the observation.

"The duke of Burgundy. I have heard rumours that he is looking to revolt. It isn't exactly a secret how he dislikes Philippe."

The seal of Robert of Burgundy.​

"I see what you mean. I have a feeling you may be right." Adalbert answered matter of factly, looking distracted.

"Adalbert, I sense you are troubled. Talk to me, friend. What ails you?" Herbert lowered his tone and looked at his friend opposite him. Adalbert was his best knight. Herbert had offered him the position of Lord Marshall, but he had declined - focusing instead on being loyal to his friend in other ways. He was well set - unusually tall, and was not unattractive, with dark hair sweeping down to his shoulders.

"Herbert," Adalbert was one of the few people who called the count by his first name, "I feel as if I am in some way responsible for all of this. You trusted me to deliver the message to Benoît safely. I did so, but then Benoît was not safe himself! When I got to Laon and there was no one about, did I go and see if anything was happening? No. I stayed put and waited for Benoît." Adalbert was close to tears at this point. He knew his strengths, and made it his duty to protect those who were not as martially able as he was. For Herbert, it was a strange sight. His friend was usually so composed.

"Adalbert. Don't be a fool! How can this be your fault. You did what was asked of you, and for that we are all grateful. None of us could have foreseen this, this foul play. Don't feel you are responsible. Besides, for a man of the cloth, Benoît is quite handy for a sword." Hearing this made the knight smile. He let out a laugh, and soon the two men were laughing together - completely satisfied with each other's company.

---

To be continued very soon...​

 

[DensleyBlair]

2.6: The Intrigue of Laon

An Interlude​

The following is an extract taken from the diary of Herbert himself. Note the date - the 17th, written only two days after the events at Laon. Kindly donated by the University of Reims Champagne-Ardennes.

The day is the seventeenth of September, in the year of our Lord one-thousand and sixty-six. I sit in my study at Rethel. The light is beginning to fade, and it must be about eight.

Today we saw the return to health of Henri de Meaux, which was a fortunate event, and bought some much needed happiness to us all. An aura of distrust has hung around Vermandois since the ambush on Friday. I still meet with Benoît and Adalbert - perhaps more so, but when we converse it is not as freely as before, our voices hushed for fear of being overheard. It is silly really, and must stop, which is why I intend to find out who it is that should take the blame. I have a few suspicions thus far, although I shall not commit them to paper at this time for fear of my writings being perceived as libellous.

I apologise, but I must now retire, for my son needs to be put bed. He was meant to be travelling back to Laon to-morrow, but we have agreed with Benoît that he shall remain in my care until we can be sure Laon is safe.

---

Over the years, what has come to be known as the Intrigue of Laon has been studied thoroughly. Herbert's diaries provide a unique insight into the event, which means details surrounding the ambush are much more abundant than those surrounding contemporary events of as much, if not greater, significance. The following is a diary extract from the next week which gives an illustration as to how events progress.

---

The twentieth day of September in the year of Our Lord one-thousand and sixty-six. Shocking facts have surfaced these days past. It is now clear, owning to the untiring efforts of my wife, and Lord Spymaster, that my father-in-law, count Raoul de Valois of Amiens was behind the attack. Alix-Adèle has decided that, for the sake of impartialty, she must have no further involvement in the intrigue, as she can not bring herself to investigate her father. It is for this reason that I have entrusted a courtier of mine, Guichard, with the leadership of the investigation. Despite this, Benoît, who has been resilient throughout the ordeal, will continue to endeavour in the pressing of my claims on Raoul's lands. I am assuming that the attack was instigated with the intention of silencing Benoît to ensure the safety of Raoul's lands. How foolish a man must be to try and silence Benoît, the finest diplomat in the area. He shall continue in his work until the claim is accepted by all in Amiens but Raoul himself, the bastard thug .

I retire now with a renewed sense of duty to my family name. And for igniting that, I must thank my father [ii].

Herbert.

Raoul, shown in full armour. Note the Valoisian shield.​

---

i - ...the bastard thug.: Herbert here is using the term in its more pejorative sense. As far as we are aware, Raoul was legitimate.

ii - ...my father.: Herbert here, being a known cynic, is most likely not referring to God, but instead to his father-in-law, Raoul

---

To be continued very soon...​

 

[LemonyTang]

I don't normally enjoy narrative AAR's, I prefer more screenshot heavy ones (as you might've guessed from mine!) but this is really well written.

I love that you've chosen to write as though it's historical documents being researched, it's a cool spin on it haha. Keep writing!

 

[DensleyBlair]

I don't normally enjoy narrative AAR's, I prefer more screenshot heavy ones (as you might've guessed from mine!) but this is really well written.

I love that you've chosen to write as though it's historical documents being researched, it's a cool spin on it haha. Keep writing!

Thanks a lot - I'm glad your enjoying it! I must admit, part of the rationale behind having a non-picture heavy AAR is the fact that I haven't quite figured out how I would go about it yet. I actually do have loads of screenshots for writing purposes, but I think I'll just stick with the text, changing now would be a bit odd IMO.

I'm glad that you like the style - I chose it as, after having read so many other AARs, I was teeming with inspiration, and wanted to find a way of incorporating so many influences into one narrative without turning it into a bland pastiche.

Thanks again for your comment, it's definitely appreciated (and don't worry, I passed the 11k mark yesterday, so I'll be sure to keep writing )

 

[DensleyBlair]

Part Two, Chapter Seven, in which daggers in the night are brought into view.

Chapter Seven​

We return now to the work of de Compiègne.​

"But, my lord, surely he will not come. He is a clever man, and will suspect intrigue I can be sure." Benoît was stood before Herbert, who was sat in his county throne.

"Worry not, Benoît, Raoul shall feast with us, and I will ensure it. Do you forget to whom I am wed?" Herbert glanced in the direction of his wife, who was in the corner of the room with Eudes.

"Of course, my lord." Benoît bowed slightly and turned to leave,

"Benoît, would you stay a second longer? I have something else to request of you."

"My lord?"

"Do we now feel Laon is safe?"

"One can never be certain, my lord, but yes."

"Good." Benoît looked over to his son in the corner, before turning back to face his trusted Chancellor, "I intend for Eudes to travel back to Laon with you on the morrow. Would you see to it that everything is ready for his arrival?"

"Certainly" Benoît bowed again, before turning and exiting the hall.

Herbert sighed, seeing his trusted advisor leave. Being a count is never simple - especially with his ancestry, but when smoke and mirrors are involved... He stopped. A crisp breeze blew in through an open window, buffeting the lit torches slightly. Herbert turned. He heard footsteps behind him, slowly but definitely making their way across the stone floor towards him.

"Benoît?" the count called out in question, sounding strong and dignified, "have you forgotten something?" A reply came, cold, like the dying summer outside.

"I am not Benoît'," the figure spat the word. He sensed a question; "my identity is not important, in fact, it is probably best it remained a mystery," he squirmed out an abrupt laugh, "but what's important is that you are encroaching upon my client's position, no, right as a ruler of Amiens."

"So you work for Raoul?" Herbert, still composed despite the encounter, asked of the figure before him. The count could now see the figure properly - he had come out of the shadows of the doorframe, both figuratively and literally. He was taller than average, and Herbert could make out a few strands of brown hair leaking from under his dark hood. His face was obscured by shadows. The figure laughed.

"My dear man, Raoul is an old man now. He can barely keep his own study in order, let alone a whole county. No - I do not work for Raoul, in fact, if I can at least do something for you, you would do well to know that Raoul has no involvement in our" he paused, trying to think of the right word, "affairs." Herbert was uneasy now. What was this deceit that was going on without his knowledge. He despised the very idea of daggers in the night.

"Then who-"

"Shh..." the hooded figure put his finger to his lips "all in good time. Now, I must away. All I needed to do was make sure that you didn't implicate that Raoul was involved in this. Let him enjoy your banquet." With that, the figure turned and strode away. He closed the door, then Herbert could hear him mounting a horse and riding away. Unsettled, Herbert walked out of the study, pulling his cloak around him for warmth, and made his way to his bedroom.

A still taken from the 1972 film In the Footsteps of Charlemagne, from which this book gets its name.​

---

To be continued very soon...​

 

[DensleyBlair]

2.8: A Feeling of Unease

Chapter Eight​

Benoît was in his palace at Laon by now. It was swiftly turning to autumn, and, even at seven, it was starting to grow darker outside. Benoît was not particularly old, but he had seen a lot, and was tired after the day. He sat in front of a roaring fire, enjoying its warmth. He heard excited barking outside in the hallway, and looked up as three hounds muscled their way in through the door. Benoît smiled. As a man of the cloth, he was not allowed to marry, and had no wards with him for company at the moment. Orson, a peasant servant-boy, was in the house, but provided little in the way of company, so he had to rely on his trusted hounds for companionship.

"My lord," Benoît, wrapped up in his thoughts, had not noticed Orson as he made his way up to the fireplace.

"Oh! Sorry, Orson, I'm quite tired. Carry on."

"Yes, of course. My lord, I have received word from the monastery. Father Jaspert has fallen asleep..." Orson didn't finish the sentence, but Benoît didn't need him to. He knew what was coming.

"I see." Benoît paused to take in what he had just heard. "Thank you Orson, you may leave now." Father Jaspert had come to the monastery as a young boy, and had devoted his life entirely to the Lord. He had risen to become Abbot. How old was he? Sixty eight, sixty nine? He was at least thirty years older than Benoît, and had been a mentor to him in his youth. The world was an uncertain place now, and with Jaspert's passing, a link to Benoît's childhood had been taken from the world. How he longed to go back to his childhood, now. Benoît had never felt as scared as he had in these days past. He never felt scared in his youth. When he was attacked, he had felt the Lord's strength surge through him. That, he imagined, was the only reason he had been able to defend himself, for he was usually such a weak character. People dared not use the word craven in his presence, but Benoît knew. And he admitted it, but only to himself.
He prayed that the Lord may give him that same strength though these times.

---

"Herbert won't talk - he's spineless." The speaker was the hooded figure. He was sat at a table in the corner of a tavern, opposite a well-dressed man in his thirties, probably a noble. The two men each had a tankard of ale in front of them, but neither was drinking.

"And of that you are quite sure?"

"Quite sure." the hooded figure picked up his tankard and took a sip. A few strands of his brown hair drifted down onto his forehead.

"Well I'll drink to that!" The noble picked up his tankard, but the hooded figure took no notice. The noble was visibly unsettled. The hooded figure put down his drink. It was only half empty, but he didn't want the rest.

"I would appreciate that you dont speak of our meetings with anyone. I give you my word, and I expect yours."

"Of course."

"Good. In that case, I shall away. It grows late, and I am in need of some sleep." With that, he got up and left the tavern, the rest of the room oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place.

---

Herbert was in his bedroom undressing. Alix-Adèle was behind him on the bed. He unfastened his cloak and slipped off his shoes and leggings, leaving on only his undershirt.

"Come to bed, my love." Alix-Adèle was growing tired. For the past few days, her husband had seemed distant or preoccupied. She had tried to get him to talk to her, but he just silenced her and told her to sleep.

"I will darling, I will." Herbert walked to the side of the bed and slid under the covers. The wind was blowing outside, and a cold breeze blew though the room. Herbert rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, but was awoken by his wife, who had moved close to him.

"What is it, darling?" Herbert sounded weary.

"I don't know, my love, what is it?" Herbert knew what his wife was referring to now. He sighed, and rolled over to meet his wife's gaze. Usually her gaze would inspire courtiers to flee, but today she was softer, more restrained. Her husband was troubled, and now was no time to make him more so.

"Don't you worry. You've played your part in this whole sordid affair, now let it be." The count leant over and kissed his wife on the forehead, before rolling back to sleep. All was silent for a moment.

"But something has happened? Something new?" Herbert laughed, his eyes still closed.

"You don't give up, do you? Yes, something new has happened, but, pray, let us leave it at that for now, my love. Let it worry you not, and go to sleep."

Satisfied, Alix-Adèle closed her eyes.

"You know full well that that is exactly why you are my Lord Spymaster." Alix-Adèle opened her eyes. She rolled over and met Herbert in the middle of the bed, who had done likewise. What happened next is not fit to be recorded in such texts as these.

---

To be continued very soon...​

 

[Dovahkiing]

Updates are as great as ever! I like to think of my favorite AARs as my favorite TV shows, and this one would definitely be Emmy material.
About comments: Since you're a first time WritAAR, you're not likely to get many comments- at first. But you'll see that the more you keep writing and updating more people will read and eventually comment. It's all about dedication.

Awaiting the next 'episode' with bated breath!

 

[DensleyBlair]

Updates are as great as ever! I like to think of my favorite AARs as my favorite TV shows, and this one would definitely be Emmy material.
About comments: Since you're a first time WritAAR, you're not likely to get many comments- at first. But you'll see that the more you keep writing and updating more people will read and eventually comment. It's all about dedication.

Awaiting the next 'episode' with bated breath!

Thanks a lot I like to think of it as a TV show when I'm writing, so maybe it's something to do with the story?

I already have plans for other AARs after this one, so I'm sure once I become established things will pick up. I can understand the sentiment, though. When I just read AARs without commenting I would always go for the most updated of the ones that piqued my curiosity so that I had more to read in one go.

Thanks for the encouragement, though

 

[Lanlier]

Very intriguing story! The last couple of updates have added a good deal of mystery with our hooded man.

One thing I would say and please feel free to ignore if you want, but it was something that was suggested to me when I started writing was to leave spacing between your dialogue. The extra gaps make it easier to read online and follow the conversation.

As I said - feel free to ignore it, just wanted to say it as it was something suggested to me and I found it useful!

Look forward to your next update!

 

[DensleyBlair]

Very intriguing story! The last couple of updates have added a good deal of mystery with our hooded man.

One thing I would say and please feel free to ignore if you want, but it was something that was suggested to me when I started writing was to leave spacing between your dialogue. The extra gaps make it easier to read online and follow the conversation.

As I said - feel free to ignore it, just wanted to say it as it was something suggested to me and I found it useful!

Look forward to your next update!

Thanks a lot

I can definitely add spacing if it makes it easier to read - thanks for pointing that out.

Just as a side note, I hit 12k words earlier, so there's a lot to come yet

 

[The Kingmaker]

Resuscitating the Carolingian lineage? Count me in.

I'd love to see you re-found the realm of Lotharingia and put both the French and the Germans in their place.

 

[DensleyBlair]

Resuscitating the Carolingian lineage? Count me in.

I'd love to see you re-found the realm of Lotharingia and put both the French and the Germans in their place.

Thanks a lot - nice to know that you're on board

Lotharingia would be nice - I think I'll try for the empire first, though

 

[DensleyBlair]

2.9: An End, of Sorts

Chapter Nine​

It was early morning, around half past six, and Benoît was outside the monastery with three other men, all dressed in the plain, brown robes of monks. A fourth man was with them. He looked subdued, and was wearing a silver cross around his neck. Benoît was dressed in his ceremonial robes.

"Let us pray" Benoît led the gathering in prayer, "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thine will be done, on Earth as in Heaven..." Benoît finished the prayer, and there was silence, each man deep in thought with his head bowed. Six more monks followed out of the monastery doors. They were the pallbearers. The coffin was placed to rest just before the grave, and Benoît went over to it solemnly. He crossed himself, then crossed the coffin and said another silent prayer.

"Requiescat in pace." He then gave the signal, and the pallbearers picked the coffin back up, and lowered it into the grave. Once in, the three of the monks began a solemn hymn, the low tones resonating mournfully in the crisp morning air. The coffin came to rest at the bottom of the grave, and the pallbearers set to work covering the grave. The monk with the silver crucifix turned to Benoît.

"He was a good man - a good Christian, of course, but, importantly, a good man."

"Indeed he was, Guillaume. And you would do well to follow his philosophies. I trust you will do a fine job at the monastery, so don't fail me!" At this point, the two men shared a laugh, lifting the mood slightly. Behind them, the monks gave final respects, before filing back in to the monastery. One of the monks broke off from the group and approached Guillaume.

"Father, I trust you will be staying with Benoît for the morning. Shall I conduct Terce [iii], or shall I give one of the deans the honour?"

"You may conduct the sermon, Amery."

"Yes, my lord." Amery walked off in the direction of the doors, and left Benoît with Guillaume.

"So, Guillaume, shall we return to the palace?"

---

The hooded figure walked out of the inn unnoticed. Or so he thought. Guichard watched from a safe distance, maybe twenty yards away, as the hooded figure turned a corner, still invisible amongst a crowd of peasants. Guichard started slowly at first, then sped up for fear of losing sight of the hooded figure. Then all at once he burst in to a run, turning the corner just to see the backside of a horse getting ever further away. Guichard scrambled to mount the nearest horse he could, ignoring the protests coming form the horses owner, a peasant who had just arrived at market. The hooded figure, sensing that he was being followed, spurred his horse on, gaining a small lead on Guichard. He did the same, cancelling out the figure's lead. The hooded figure was panicking now, turning round at every opportunity to see if he was still being followed. Guichard sped his horse up with a small kick to its side. The gap was now closed completely, and the hooded figure knew he had been outdone. He slowed to a walk, before stopping gradually. Guichard rode up beside him.

"Dismount from your horse. Do as you are told now and my master shall be lenient, I assure you." Guichard was met with a small grunt of compliance as the hooded figure dismounted. "Good. Now, I trust you to not deceive me, and shall therefore allow you to ride unbound. I pray I shall not be made to look a fool."

"Do not worry, good sir," he spat the words with contempt, "you need not fear being made to look any more a fool than you already are." Guichard's new prisoner, still hooded, let a wry smile spread across his face, but remained unfazed. Guichard was unnerved.

"Before we ride back, I must request that you be rid of your hood. There is no need to keep up the charade any longer." Guichard's prisoner smiled and lowered his hood. Guichard, now face to face with his prisoner, got to look at him properly. He had brown hair, a few strands of which hung limply down onto his forehead. He was shaven, but the remnants of a beard were visible. An attempt to disguise his identity, thought Guichard. His eyes were blue - the same shade as the count's wife, and just as piercing.

"Must we tarry? I fear you study me almost as if you were ungodly."

"Do not say such things!" snapped Guichard in retort, "must you remember that it is you, sir, who is under guard?"

"My apologies," he replied, with no hint of sincerity in his voice, "would you like to pat me down? Surely you wouldn't feel safe with me behind you if I had a dagger concealed within my dress?" Again, the prisoner spoke with no sincerity, mocking Guichard with every word.

"It shall not be necessary, for you will know that if you would dare such a thing, you would be found and brought to justice."

"Of course, my mistake." Guichard was unsettled. It was almost as if his prisoner was enjoying this.

---

iii - Terce - A service held in almost all denominations of Christianity at nine AM It consists mainly of psalms. Can be translated as 'Third Hour'

---

To be continued very soon...​

 

[DensleyBlair]

2.10: A Meeting

Chapter Ten​

Eudes Karling was by now back in Laon. Benoît had decided to delay his arrival following the death of Father Jaspert, so as to give the bishop time to ensure that the monastery was still in working order. The death of the Father had also brought about another change - Henri de Meaux was now to be tutored by Benoît permanently, instead of by the lector at the monastery. A message from the boy's father had arrived the previous night, agreeing to the guardianship proposals suggested by Benoît, and the boy himself was to arrive the next morning. Eudes had met Henri before a few times, and was glad of his coming. Benoît was nice, but sometimes it could get lonely away from home with no other children to play with.

It had been a long ride to Laon. Orson had come to collect Eudes at dawn, and he was still tired. For his safety, Benoît's servant had insisted that the the horse go slowly, so the journey had been a lot longer than usual. It must have been about mid-day when they arrived at the palace. Thankfully, Benoît had had left some food ready for his ward's arrival, but, being a holy man, it was a simple meal - bread, water and a small portion of beef as a treat. Eudes was still hungry, and decided that he would ask Orson for some food, who was only too happy to oblige, not wanting to anger his lord. The boy laughed to himself as he thought of what his mother would say - the hypocrite!

Eudes was interrupted in his thoughts by Henri, who had been in town with Benoît when he arrived.

"Hello Odo," Henri began. Eudes swallowed his food and replied.

"Hello Henri." Eudes sounded happy. Usually, when he was at Benoît's, Eudes had to make do playing with peasant children in the town. He was glad that he had someone of noble blood around.

---

Guichard entered the study at Rethel behind his prisoner. They had arrived unheralded. Herbert already knew when to expect them - he had arranged all that with Guichard prior to the capture. Guichard approached his liege.

An imagined version of the confrontation between Herbert and Simon, sketched during the 18th century.​

"My lord, would you like me to stay in the room?"

"No, thank you Guichard. I think I'll be quite alright." Herbert dismissed his spymaster, who made no noise as he shut the heavy wooden door behind him.

"Well played, my lord." Guichard's prisoner spoke freely and without warning. There was no sincerity in his voice as he said 'my lord.' Herbert seemed unaffected by the insult. "Pray, does my identity still escape you?"

"I am not a fool, Simon. I have known of your identity since after our first encounter." Herbert sounded confident, but Simon was not impressed.

"Not a fool! You bring me great joy with your words, Herbert."

"Let time tell who is the fool in this room. Let us see where we find ourselves in ten years time."

"You must stop, Herbert. What you say is pitiful. Akin only to your shameless attempt at usurping my rightful title."

"Ah, so now we get to the truth behind the charade."

"Do not talk of charades with me, Herbert. Your quest, your shameful quest is beset by trickery. Pray, give up while you still can, lest more sinister forces intervene."

"Be done with your threats, for they are nothing more than shadows, Simon. Raoul knows nothing of this sordid affair. He is not affected by this, so, pray, why must you feel the need to be affected so greatly?"

"I feel no need, Herbert, I feel only an obligation. God granted me a great privilege at birth that I may one day rule lands of my own. He who challenges is will is a fool and no more."

"Do not talk to me of privileges, Simon. God granted me the privilege of being able to count Charles Martel himself as an ancestor. My fathers ruled all of western Europe. Surely it is you then, sir, who is challenging God's will."

"Your talk of your fathers is shameful. The House of Karling have been nothing for years. Ever since that bastard Bernard [v] was conceived."

"My talk is shameful in your eyes alone, Simon. Your attempt at murdering my most faithful bishop is shameful in the eyes of all."

"Ha! So now we get to it. Well done, Herbert, you may pride yourself on one thing, at least. You have found me out."

"At least God has given you the wisdom to admit to your crimes."

"Wisdom, necessity, are they not the same? Be over with it, then, what fate is set for me?"

"I do not wish to impose fate upon you, Simon, and in that I wish to show that I am the better man. All I demand is that you be done with your scheming, and know that you shall suffer due consequences if I find that you are doing otherwise."

"If I had not been beaten, your mercy would be admirable."

"Leave here, Simon." Simon left, not stopping to speak to Herbert any longer. Herbert could hear the sound of hooves as Simon rode off into the evening, his horse having been rode back to Rethel with Guichard. It is claimed by some who saw him that night that he wore a look of worry on his face, as if he finally recognised that he had been bettered by the count.

---

i - lector - a monk entrusted with the job of reading during sermons.

ii - Bernard - Bernard of Italy, king of the Lombards, was a bastard of the Karling dynasty.

---

To be continued very soon...​

 

[Dovahkiing]

Good work, Herbert! Also good work to you Densley for some awesome lines like "let us see where where we find ourselves in ten year's time"!

 

[DensleyBlair]

Good work, Herbert! Also good work to you Densley for some awesome lines like "let us see where where we find ourselves in ten year's time"!

Thanks a lot. Incidentally, when I wrote that line I had the famous spat between Brian Clough and Don Revie on the regional news programme 'Calendar' in mind (just Google it if you're not sure )

 

[Stuyvesant]

I've made a start on this, but you're clearly posting at an insane rate. I got to the part where Henri is out with the Bishop and a mysterious rider is nearing Laon. I like the character sketches and the way you clearly build your characters out of the traits the game assigns.

I'll do some more reading tomorrow: working on the assumption that I can read faster than you can write, I should be able to catch up in the near future.

 

[DensleyBlair]

I've made a start on this, but you're clearly posting at an insane rate. I got to the part where Henri is out with the Bishop and a mysterious rider is nearing Laon. I like the character sketches and the way you clearly build your characters out of the traits the game assigns.

I'll do some more reading tomorrow: working on the assumption that I can read faster than you can write, I should be able to catch up in the near future.

Thanks a lot! A lot of it is actually written before hand, so at the moment I'm posting one 'chapter' per day. I've got to the point where there are about 4k words between the story and the AAR, so, in time, things will slow down.

Thanks for reading - I'm glad you're enjoying it

 

[DensleyBlair]

2.5.1: Introduction

Chapter Eleven​

"Where is he?" Herbert stood with Benoît in a corridor in the castle at Rethel. In the room next door, about fifty people were being entertained by a troupe of dancers. Music could be heard coming from the hall, and every so often a guest could be heard expressing their approval of the entertainment.

"Do not worry, my lord, I'm sure he will be here soon enough." Benoît was trying to calm Herbert, who was waiting anxiously for the arrival of his father in law.

"You are probably right, Benoît. This worrying is no doubt not doing anything for my health! Let us go into the hall and join our guests."

"That sounds like a fine idea, my lord."

A feast, painted by a contemporary artist, such as the one Herbert hosted.​

The dancers finished their performance and bowed to the crowd, who gave them an appreciative applause. As they collected their props and quit the stage, another group of performers entered. The group were wearing elaborate costumes, representing their respective characters. One of the group made his way to the front of the stage.

"My esteemed lords and ladies, prepare yourselves, for tonight you shall be taken on a miraculous journey back to the times of Karolvs Magnvs and his faithful paladins. I present to you, in dramatic form, The Death of Roland." The actor made his way back into position and the play began.

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To be continued very soon...​

 

[DensleyBlair]

2.5.2: Act I; Scenes I & 11

Chapter Twelve​

We now have an excerpt from The Tales of Francia (Gontier, 1974.) This particular extract details a performance of The Death of Roland, as portrayed by the same troupe hired by Herbert.​

Act I​

Scene I​

"My lord, there is word that the mighty Charlemagne plots to liberate our fair city of Saragossa."

"He would not dare do such a thing. He is a fool who believes himself capable of plundering my Saragossa!" At this point, a few members of the audience laughed.

"But, my lord, he has with him one hundred thousand knights. Even our most powerful armies are no match for his Imperial might!"

"Insolence! Heresy! Spinelessness! You weak-blooded fool, I shall have you killed for your words!"
"A thousand apologies, my lord, but I only meant that our armies are not prepared enough after their magnificent victory against the Frankish raiding party. They need rest, and an assault now by the emperor may be the-"

"Go on..."

"The final straw, my lord."

"I see. Then it is decided, we shall offer Karolvs Magnvs an appeasement."

"I shall see to it that an envoy is dispatched, my lord. What shall we offer him?"

"Find me my vizier at once!"

"It shall be done, my lord." One of the actors, who was daubed in a brown paint, exited the stage in an overly sycophantic fashion, much to the delight of the audience, who were watching the performance attentively. A third actor entered stage left. He too was daubed in brown paint, and was wearing a costume mimicking the dress of the Andalusians.

King Marsilla, accompanied by two advisors.​

Scene II​

"My lord, you require my services."

"Ah yes, al-Rahman, how much gold do we have in our treasury?"

"Two hundred pieces, my lord. What would you like it spent on?"

"You see, al-Rahman, we have received word that Charlemagne does plan to conquer our city for the glory of his God-"

"Not Charlemagne, the Holy King, chosen by his God himself to lead his empire to greatness!" The actor playing the Muslim lord sighed, as the vizier cowered with a look of terror on his face. The audience laughed.

"Yes, al-Rahman you cowardly fool, that Charlemagne, which is why we need to buy him off..."

"I see my lord, yes, sorry, um, it shall be done at once, my lord." The stuttering vizier brought about more laughs from the audience.

"Good." The actors exited the stage, applauded by the audience as they left. A group of four actors entered the stage, including al-Rahman, the vizier.

Scene III​

"My lord, I present al-Rahman, grand vizier of Saragossa."

"Magnificent Karolvs Magnvs, I beg audience on behalf of my liege, king Marsilla of Saragossa. He offers a most generous proposal in return for a guarantee of safety."

"Go on..." Charlemagne, who had up until this point been largely uninterested by the vizier turned to face his guest.

"My King offers you the sum of two hundred gold pieces in exchange for a promise that you will not attack his city."

"I'm afraid, al-Raymond," the audience laughed "that I cannot accept your king's generous offer. I was chosen by God to spread his word, not to become rich."

"I see, thank you for your gracious audience, your excellency." The vizier turned and left, turning to the audience as he did so and revealing a worried expression on his face in anticipation of facing the fury of his king. "My lord, if I could, may I offer a new proposal?" The vizier approached Charlemagne and whispered something in his ear. Charlemagne's expression lightened, and he nodded to al-Rahman, who bowed and exited the stage.

Charlemagne, on horseback, faced with al-Rahman.​

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To be continued very soon...​