Royal Court of Lotharingia (Burgundy)

[Lord E]

Back in time, with von Wittelsbach

As they where showed in, Jean gave sir Armand a close look as to tell him that Jean would do the talking, and that it was important that they remember he wasn’t the Duke of Orleans now, just the Comte de Périgord. The two men entered the room, bowed for the man sitting behind the table with reports and letters all around it.
Sir Armand spoke first.

“Your Grace, allow me to introduce the Comte de Périgord just arrived from France.”

Jean stepped forward, and Sir Armand moved a little backwards. Jean was very focused, it had been a long time since he had spoken as some low ranking nobleman, but it was important that he gave the impression of being just a humble low ranking noble.

”Your Grace, Karl von Wittelsbach, it is an honour to meet you! I have heard so much about Your Grace!
Well but on to the reason why I have requested to speak to you. While in Paris I was informed that civil war had once again hit Lotharingia. Since I earn a lot of money on the Lotharingian trade I was sad to hear that, so I told His Majesty that I had to travel here to see what was actually going on.
So His Majesty gave me permission if I promised to talk to your grace. His Majesty is also very concerned over these latest events….”

Jean paused for some moments looking at Karl, and then he cleared his throat before continuing.


”Rumours are floating all over France about what is going on, and since but His Majesty and I have great interest in knowing more I have come here to your Grace since I have heard that your Grace posses a lot of information and since your Grace have been chancellor I presumed your Grace would know better than many people do. Also His Majesty wanted me to express that His Majesty is concerned over rumours coming out saying that your Grace might not be loyal to your King?”

Jean bowed. He had delivered the speech, and he felt that he had been as low ranking and humble as he possibly could. Now just to hope that von Wittelsbach would agree to that….

 

[BusterBunny]

Karl examined the two nobles carefully before answering. For all I know, they could have been sent by the King of Lotharingia, or by the rebels, to know my allegiance... he thought to himself. "His Majesty and I have great interest" he said... what allows this count to be so close to Louis XI...

"Ah, inquiring minds, I like that, yes... I like that. His Majesty the King of France is a man of opportunities. He convinced the English to leave Paris... now that was something..." he said, smilling politely.

"Civil war! My Lords... this is NOT a civil war..." he laughed. Yes, well, it is a civil war, but not your concern... damn french. he thought to himself."This is not a civil war... this is a... misunderstanding between powerfull men, and they will choose the way to settle this... Some like the swords, some like legalities, and some simply like good wine and fine women." he trailed off, jokingly.

Charles will make a bold move soon, I'm sure of it... but what... perhaps they know...

"Of course, in misunderstanding comes a great need for clarity, so perhaps your lordships could help me understand a little bit more of what you're looking for... I have the... fortune of knowing both parties very well... but I do not see what His Majesty the King of FRANCE" he insisted on that last word "wants to gain from all of this..."

 

[Lord E]

Jean smiled as Karl spoke about Louis being a man of opportunities.

”Well indeed as you say His Majesty is a man of great opportunities, and I can ensure you that all the nobles of France are glad and proud that His Majesty managed to convince the English out of Paris, and have our great capital returned to France!

Oh so if I understand your Grace correctly this is not a civil war? Then what is this battle that was fought in the north near the city of Ghent then, your Grace? Well a misunderstand… many things are misunderstandings, but I do think, with all do respect your Grace, that a bloody battle and the death of men in war is no misunderstanding, that is just WAR!”

Jean made sure to put very much pressure on the last word, if this Duke wanted to play the game Jean was sure to push him a little to see his reaction. It seemed clear that the Duke was hiding something.

” Well what we are looking for… Well first of all as you already said the King of France is a man of opportunities, and so are we. And as His Majesty has great interest in knowing more about the different parties in this…misunderstanding… to see who… hmm… will be the best for the future. I am sure you know that Lotharingia holds land that His Majesty has… should we say… a certain interest in!
And as such His Majesty is always interested in gaining from a good deal!”

Jean smiled. Now that should give him something to think about. He laughed silently to him self, and gave a short smile to Sir Armand.

 

[BusterBunny]

Karl smiled.

"A battle? There was a skirmish near Ghent a year ago... and there are troop movements... strategic reallignment... within the domain of our King. There are in France also, I guess. After all, I hear King Edmund in England insists on keeping the fleur de lys d'or on his coat of arms...."

He stood up and went to the large window near his desk.

"The misunderstanding derives from pragmatism and claims... They always do, don't they..." he admitted, with a nostalgic grin.

"Your King and the Emperor and the Pope were all involved in the creation of this land... they all agreed to it. This was our blood being given a crown, after all. And yet, somewhere along the way, we decided to shut our eyes when these claims were baffled by money and power. The Directoire became THE authority within Lotharingia... because neither the head of the house of Valois, nor the Emperor, nor the Pope actually supported the House of Berry... it prefered minding its own business."

He turned to them. "And this is fine. But when this happens, one has to face the fact that Lotharingia will work alone, and settle its problem itself...."

He took a pile of paper in his hands, the same he had presented to the King a few days earlier.

"By your silence, you let the Directoire choose a merchant to rule over Lotharingia. A merchant of noble blood... HIGH blood indeed. A Bourbon. But the Bourbon are not rulers. They spend moneys, and they make large castles, and frankly, they are not fit to rule a kingdom. Never, EVER leave a Bourbon to himself.... So, since the Valois, the Emperor and the Church didn't care about the grotesque abdication of Queen Éléanore, at the time, the Directoire had no choice but to impose its prices, and to manage this new king, this Bourbon, to make him understand this wasn't just France, or the Empire... it was other domains, the domains of the crown of Lothar..."

He threw the papers back on his desk. "THIS was supposed to help him understand that... These were laws, amendments, allowing for the Directoire, the true nobles of Lotharingia, to have a say in all this. To control the king, in order for him to do what is best for the domains of the crown...."

He rolled his eyes. "But... But Louis, being a Bourbon, didn't understand that... so what could we do? He has no valid claim, so if we don't support him, this would have pushed the lords of Europe, including Louis XI to say something... anything."

"But they didn't, and here were are today, with a misunderstanding on who should get the crown. There are many men aspiring to that. Jean d'Artois... yes, THE Jean d'Artois, the same men who destroyed Grenobles when Charles d'Orléans declared himself King of France... he's looking to control parts of the Imperial domains of Lotharingia. And there's Philippe du Berry, the brother of Queen Éléanore... we all thought him dead, but apparently, he is not... And thus he would have a better claim than Louis de Montpensier... and would cancel Éléanore abdication, since she wouldn't have had anything to abdicate, in a way. There's Charles of Nevers, who is apparently the son of the Valois house of Burgundy. All that line that gave so much trouble to your King's father and grand father.... and in the middle of this, the Directoire controls their land... waiting for this misunderstanding to be settled between all of these men. Louis has his back to the wall now that Charles of Nevers, Philippe du Berry and Jean d'Artois have united under the League of Arras..."

He moved his hand, showing how everything was moving rapidly.

"One thing is for sure though... whatever happens from this misunderstanding, we all swore fealty to protect the crown and domains of Lotharingia. Thus, whatever the support, none would allow for the lands to leave the crown...." he said with assurance.

He then paused. "At least none that I know of."

 

[Lord E]

Jean felt a little angry inside on this naughty German. Now he started to understand why Louis had decided to stand up against this Joachim of Pommern, although he had been Emperor he must have been just as irritating. But on the outside he only nodded.

”Well after what we had heard there was a great blood bath, but I guess your Grace is better informed.
As for Edmund the bastard of York, so the rumours has told us after we arrived here that he has once again changed opinion on the matter over who is King of France. After all only three months ago Edmund of York wrote to His Majesty informing His Majesty that he agreed to not use the title King of France, and now it seems like he has once again chanced opinion again. I can’t say I would like to have a man who wavers so much, and never agree with himself or anyone ells as my King!”

He paused and watched the Duke stand up and look out the window. What was this it was like the waited for something to happen, like he waited for the sound of horns and then to see a great army appear. No, he wouldn’t be working with the rebels already?
Jean returned to the current situation as the Duke started talking again, Jean listened and then answered.

”Well yes, I presume your are speaking about His Majesty’s father who is currently, as far as I know, locked up in one of Your Majesty’s castles in Champagne? But other than that I agree, the Pope, the King and the Emperor created Lotharingia after the Duchy of Burgundy had increased its size so much.
Well I say they minded their own business, that might be so… But after what I remember from the last civil war both His Majesty and the Emperor was heavy involved supporting the Queen and her regent!”

Jean looked interested at some of the papers, and then he handed some over to Sir Armand, who started reading them pretty closely.

”So what your Grace is saying is that His Majesty should have acted against his own cousin Louis, of so noble birth when he was elected to rule Lotharingia? After all at the time there didn’t seem to be any better candidate, at least none that we was informed of in France, with the exception of the Queen of course. But after what we understood she was almost murdered and she abdicated voluntarily or?

So I presume your Grace that your Grace is after power since your Grace from your position in the Directoire would be able to try to control His Majesty?

Jean paused and looked at sir Armand, he walked forward fro a moment after hearing the Duke speak.

“Your Grace is uttering dangerous words I would think, after all His Majesty is still King now isn’t he? What should your Grace do if he found out your grace saw him as just a bastard without claims?”

He pulled back again and allowed Jean to speak once more.

”Well your Grace as you say so we are here today, with several candidates for the throne. And with all these misunderstandings going on in Lotharingia that might lead to something much more dangerous.”

As Karl mentioned the name of his brother Jean looked shocked for a moment, but he quickly regained control over the situation. He just hoped Karl didn’t notice.

”So your grace you speak of many candidates, and many misunderstandings leading to all these candidates. May I ask who your grace would like to see as King?
I would think that His Majesty would not like to see the destroyer of Grenoble gain the throne, for after all the man has destroyed a French town once, and we would hate that situation to happen again!
The bastard of Nevers is also in on this? Makes you wonder when the insane Charles would reappear on the stage, and try to get elected as King!

Hehehe, I sure hope you got that insane King under control?

Now as for this League, I would presume that if they manage to remove Louis from the throne then they will fight it out among them over who will be the next King, or does your Grace think that they already have decided on a candidate?

Jean nodded and smiled when Karl spoke of the protection of the Crown, but then he got a little bad tempered when he said no land would be allowed to return.

”I am glad to hear that your grace will fight to defend the Crown, and therefore I presume that your grace will fight against the rebels?
And well… at the current moment you say no lands are allowed to leave, but as you said one misunderstanding leads to the other… and might I add, it all depends on the money!
Everything, and everyman can be bought for the right price your Grace, and who knows what…hmmm… misunderstandings… in the future might bring forth!”

Jean gave out a smart smile, and then looked at the Duke waiting to hear an answer. Behind the Duke Jean noticed, through the window, the sun slowly setting in the horizon. The night was coming to Dijon.

 

[BusterBunny]

Karl nodded.

"Yes, everyone has a price. Take the Directoire for example. You say the Directoire elected Louis. That is obviously true. But why?"

He took a bottle of wine, and poured some of its remaining content.

"You see... we let believe that the Queen abdicated. But she didn't... well, she did, but unwillingly, yes? She didn't want that, but at that time, she wasn't an inspiring ruler... she was a teenager, and shadow of Queen Marie. And a fragile girl also. Louis de Montpensier took the occasion... he bought us all. The civil war cost much to everyone, and traders, like Louis, were the ones who profited from it. We, on the other hand, had to pay the levies and fieffé... these weren't easy times."

He sat down with his glass of wine, shaking it slightly to make the wine turn. He seemed to get loss in the liquid's movement.

"Yes, so, we had sold our domains, and taxation power as well... some of us made terrible deals... Louis came with money... he bought us all. We just needed to find an excuse to push Éléanore out of the door, and when she came in, stating she was in love with a Germanic prince, Frederick, who would become the Emperor, then yes... that was an excuse. We faked dissension within the Directoire, with the Germans wanting to become ... more Imperial, and the flemish and franks opposing it. It didn't take much for her to accept to sign her abdication..."

He took a sip of his glass.

"Only three people could have prevented it at that point. The King of France, as the head of the House of Valois, could have requested that hereditary changes be respected... he could have asked to see the Queen, discuss with her of the changes... and then he could have opposed it as head of the house. The Directoire would have probably accepted this, and we would have given back the money to Louis... some of it at least... There could have been the Emperor, who could have decided not to recognize this new leader in Lotharingia. At least for the Imperial domains, that is. And, of course, if the Church would have opposed this also..."

"But in the end, this would have meant confrontations, and no one wanted that...."

A messenger came at the door, and entered the room. He gave a parchment to the duke. Reading it, he looked outside.

"How come this came in this late?" he asked the messenger.

"The Count has some of the roads blockaded... I had to find another way..."

He looked outside again. "It is the fourth today, yes?"

"Yes, my lord" the messenger answered.

"Damn... I'm not ready for this... I'm really not ready. I hate it when they do that."

He looked to his guests, and then he shouted "Hébert! HÉ-BERT!"

A head servant came at the door. "Ah, Hébert. Hummm... I'm in a hurry... we're leaving for Strassburg tonight... there's not much time... I want to leave in less than an hour. Prepare the large coach, I will be with our guests here for the trip... Arrange for their things to be moved as well to Strassburg... find out where these lords are residing right now..."

He turned to the two men in front of him.

"As you have guessed... there's been a development in the... misunderstanding, yes? If your Lordship would accompany me to Strassbourg, I'd be more than happy to help them establish contacts with some other members of the Directoire...."

 

[Lord E]

Jean listened carefully to the Duke, and when the Duke told him the details about the election and the abdication he looked a little shocked for a moment.


”Well your Grace we didn’t know the real facts behind the election of Louis and the abdication of the Queen. After what I understood His Majesty didn’t want to involve himself against the wish of the Directoire and the people of Lotharingia since it was presumed the change was a peaceful and also a wanted one.

As you say your Grace His Majesty didn’t want to start confrontations with Lotharingia, and at the time I also do believe His Majesty were having his own problems with the Emperor, as well as the current tension with the English who have just grown since this Yorkist stole the throne. “

A short knock on the door halted Jean from saying any more, and as the messenger entered Jean looked at Sir Armand. Both men wondered what this was, but seeing the face and also hearing the words, and especially the tone of the Duke’s voice they both soon understood that something important and maybe also dangerous might have happened. Had the civil war suddenly increased? Maybe was also Dijon in rebellion? Jean felt he had many questions, but he didn’t manage to express any of them at the current moment.
Hearing the messenger saying: "The Count has some of the roads blockaded... I had to find another way..." Sir Armand looked at Jean with great tension and horror in his face. This count was it maybe Charles the bastard?

As the Duke expressed his feelings and also let out his temper towards the servant the two men just stood silent waiting to see what might happen next. Maybe the Duke had found out who jean was, maybe the was getting ready to flee, maybe he would leave them to the rebels, after all a Duke of France and especially maybe the uncle of the King would be a pretty good hostage, and a very good source of income. All these thoughts went to Jean’s mind in the seconds as the Duke ordered his servant, but to Jean it felt like hours.
Hearing the Duke say to the servant he was to found out where they lived. Jean told him.

”I am staying with my servants in the guesthouse only some minutes walk away from the castle. The first road to the left and then it is the second on your right, and there you will see the house. And as for Sir Armand I believe the most of his things are also there.”

“Yes they are very much so, I had arranged to have them moved there earlier this morning so that the Count and I would be able to live close to each other in these dangerous times. After all I am the one who knows the ways in and out of Dijon best after having been here for some years as His Majesty’s ambassador.”

As the servant seemed to leave, and the Duke once again turning to the two men, they both listened carefully. So he is fleeing the city, and we are coming with him. Well I guess that is better than staying here if the rebels are advancing. Jean though, and nodded.

”Yes, your grace I think we have understood that something must have happened since your Grace has decided to leave the city in such a hurry. But I travel light and ready to leave, and as for Sir Armand I believe it would be His Majesty who would be loosing the most money since I do think His Majesty have paid for a lot of the things in your lodgings?”

Sir Armand smiled, and laughed.

“He he he he… Well that is correct, and as I told your Grace’s servant I have had my things moved to the count’s lodgings, and also I travel pretty light at the moment.”

”So might I ask your Grace what this developments in the… hmm… misunderstanding might be?
If your grace no longer considers Dijon as the place to be we would very much like to travel with your grace to Strasbourg. Let us only pray there are no…misunderstandings… happening on the way there.
And if your Grace would put us in contact with other members from Strasbourg that would be even better. So your grace shall we leave at once? I only hope my men will be allowed to travel with us?”

Jean tried to act cool and reasonable, but inside he felt a bad feeling emerging, and in some strange way he was actually glad to leave Dijon. He remembered Philippe, Duke of Grenoble’s wise words before he had left Paris:

Lotharingia is a land of danger, always keep your guard high, and remember the most dangerous place in Lotharingia is her capital. Never trust no one in Dijon for it is an evil and dangerous place. Try to avoid staying there to long, watch your back and remember the rebels need the King so they need Dijon…

Jean suddenly felt a cold wind blow through the room, this was a bad omen he though and shrugged.

 

[unmerged(18481)]

October 14th, 1453 - near Arc

Outcasts​

No more money, no more fancy dress.

- James Douglas Morrison.​

It was odd how easily they had gotten used to it, Anna mused as she watched Roxanne crouching close to the fireplace.

“Come, Victor, come!” the little girl called her brother; she had a thin, tuneful voice. “Come, it’s so nicely warm!” She grinned with true delight. “It’s so deliciously cauda!”

Anna’s brow darkened. “Chaude,” she whispered to her daughter, leaning very close to her. “It’s not cauda, it’s chaude.”

“But it’s feu anyway,” Roxanne said with a mischievous smile. “Both in Piedmontese and French,” she added pedantly. Anna forced herself to smile back, and once again she felt amazed, even shocked, because the children accepted this new, ever so terribly different way of life so frightfully easily… And she wasn’t overly glad about it.

She sighed again, and stood upright, looking around. D’Hallot was still speaking with innkeeper; they were laughing, and Anna couldn’t help but be envious of him: he always made friends so easily! The people liked him, always liked him. Everywhere they went, d’Hallot was liked -- and employed.

“A pretty girl,” a patron standing nearby remarked, waving toward Roxanne.

“Umm… yes,” Anna said, unsure of how she should react.

“Too bad she was born to people like you,” said the patron, and spat out.

“Thank you very much,” she answered coldly. While she knew she should have been grateful for this comment. For it meant she wasn’t recognized. Indeed, with her eyebrows and the hair above her forehead beginning to grow back, with her frostbitten skin, with her weary face, with her simple, tattered dress -- she looked exactly like what she was introduced as: the vagabond’s wife.

“Don’t you want to sell her?”

Anna blinked. “Excuse me?”

“The girl,” he explained. “Don’t you want to sell her?”

“No,” she answered, her face set, “not really.”

“I wouldn’t use her or something,” he said, misunderstanding her reaction. “You may ask everybody in the village: the Fat Benoît is a decent man.”

She glared at him. “I believe you,” she said, and turned away.

“I am the Fat Benoît,” he explained.

“I understand.”

“So, she would cook, take care of the kids, do the needlework… and the like. See, my wife died in childbirth two months ago, and now here I am, without a woman. I would pay well.” He showed her his purse, even opened it: “Look, all of them are Marie-silvers. Not the crap Louis made. Marie-silvers.”

“I see. They’re very nice”

“Yeah they are, aren’t them? So, you aren’t interested? I’m ready to pay a lot. Both of us would benefit from it anyway: I would have somebody to do the housework, you would have one less kid to feed.”

“No… thank you, I’m not interested.”

“But why?” Fat Benoît insisted.

“Excuse me,” Anna said, “my husband’s calling me.”



“Couldn’t you behave a little bit less like a Queen, hm?” Michele d’Hallot asked, whispering, and gently pulled her down beside himself. The vagabond and his wife are to sit on the floor, that’s the custom.

Anna disregarded his question. “The innkeeper knew any news?” She fidgeted, and sat on her heels instead of directly on the ground. Keeping Marie’s bassinet in her lap, she watched the slowly gathering crowd of the village tavern indifferently.

D’Hallot smiled. “He asked me for news. I told him that Queen Anne escaped to the Piedmont, and she’s gathering her armies there.”

Anna glanced at him. “Why did you say that?”

He shrugged. “What’s wrong with spreading the confusion?”

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Anna closed her eyes. “If it pleases you…” She then looked at him. “And Louis?”

“Charles the Bastard brags that he killed him with his own blade,” d’Hallot gave the evasive reply. “But nothing is certain.”

“He’s dead, he’s surely dead,” she said, resigned, keeping shaking her head nervously. “Why would have Nevers let him live? And why wouldn’t he brag about my death as well if it’s just bragging? It makes more sense this way. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead… I believe Rosanna’s feverish,” she changed the topic. “Or maybe just my hand was too cold. Would you check it? Oh, and I don’t like the way Joachim is coughing…” She shook her head again. “Shouldn’t we simply… give it up?”

D’Hallot was unmoved. “As you wish.” His face was set, sober, and he seemed somehow disappointed in her.

Anna made an annoyed wave of hand. “It’s so futile,” she complained. “They’re searching for a woman with five children, one of them a baby… we’re so bloody conspicious… and, Christ, one thousand livres! I myself am inclined to report myself for that money… I’d have never thought I’d be in need of money at all,” she remarked bitterly. “And anyway… the borders are closed. So where could we go?”

“Borders can’t be closed,” d’Hallot said. “Roads and bridges can be guarded, but borders cannot be closed.”

Anna kept on shaking her head. She felt tired, she felt ill, she felt desperate, she felt defeated… “Anyway---”

“Sorry, I must play,” he said in monotone, and stood up, taking his lute, “else they’d throw us out.”

She looked up at him. “Michel,” she began, “where are we going to? This isn’t the way toward Geneva…”

“We would have met the patrols there, that’s why we’re here.”

“But really… What is your plan?”

“There’s no plan,” he said. “None whatever. We’re trying to survive, that’s all. If it’s not good enough, we might stop it. As you wish.”

“It’s so hopeless,” she whined, but then she suddenly felt ashamed for it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” d’Hallot smiled. “But now I really must go.”

Anna but made an annoyed grimace, then she turned her attention to her sleeping baby. “Marie, Marie, little Marie,” she cooed. “Poor little Marie, my sweet-poor little Maria… My sweet-poor little orphan-Marie,” she cried soundlessly. “Sweet-poor little orphan-Marie… baby-Queen of Lotharingia, you… sweet little orphan girl…”

The crowd went silent as d’Hallot took his place, and began to attune his lute. Evereybody watched the troubadour. Nobody saw her crying, nobody saw her grief.

 

[unmerged(18481)]

October 10th, 1453 - Dijon

À PETITE CLOCHE GRAND SON

- motto of the House de Grandson, attributed to Othon de Grandson.​

Leaving Lotharingia was hard. Entering Lotharingia was easy -- especially for someone called Grandson. As even though Othon de Grandson, famous knight and brilliant poet, slain in a duel fought for his honour, was dead since more than fifty years, his name was still known and respected throughout Gaul.

François de Grandson was proud of his lineage, but he was beginning to get utterly fed up with it. For, of course, it’s nice if one’s ancestor is this very famous, it’s nice to hear his ballads sung even in royal courts… but if the first question after one introduces himself is always “Ah, de Grandson? Maybe a relative of the poet?”, then being the great-grandson of a legend gets more annoying than honouring, and soon it won’t seem honouring at all…

François de Grandson was twenty-five: he was of the age when one is old enough to begin to realize with dismay that he never did anything of importance in his life, but is still young enough to be inclined to do something about it. François yearned for fame, for glory, for recognition -- things he would never get, Othon de Grandson’s legend would always overshadow everything he would do. He’d always be known merely as Othon’s descendant, nothing more -- but he was yet to realize this.

To him, being the Piedmontese envoy sent to the Lotharingian rebels seemed something of a possibility, a possibility to crawl out from his great-grandfather’s shadow. All the way long from Turin to Dijon, he fancied himself striking clever deals, he fancied himself rescuing Queen Anne, he fancied himself challenging Charles of Nevers to a duel, he fancied himself putting down the rebellion singlehanded.

And everything started well, everything started well for this stupid little dreamer: he was let in Burgundy without any problems; after all, which guard would have been plucky enough to arrest someone whose family had given a Regent to France, a Captain-General to Burgundy, and that accursedly legendary poet to the world? François arrived in Dijon without any problems, nothing disturbed his fancies. And thus five days after that heavy, terrible night of October 5th, François de Grandson, Seigneur of Sainte-Croix, vassal of the King of Lotharingia through Amédée de Savoie, proud member of the Piedmontese Garde du Duc, plenipotentiary of Marquis Louis de Saluces, requested an audience with Charles of Nevers.

 

[BusterBunny]

The coach travelled quickly through the streets of Dijon, and finally reached the one of the smaller gates of the city. Only a few minutes ago, the troops of Charles de Nevers had entered the city, and though they were beginning to close the city completely, the coach was able to cross the gate without problems.

As Karl von Wittelsbach looked outside, he saw the long lines of soldiers waiting to enter the city. The troops were lightly equipped, but they were in large numbers. They could easily overwhelm the opposing forces at the castle of Dijon, if need would be. But knowing the soldiers of the castle, they wouldn’t resist much. They were old men of ancient wars, who had now a mainly titular position within the Royal House Guards.

The coach passed by rows and rows of men, lighted by flaming torches. Karl felt he was witnessing something important, almost of this world. We are witnessing history in the making he thought to himself.

Karl shouted ”We better make haste, these soldiers will begin searching all the travellers going out of the city soon… better not be present at that time…”. The driver seemed to understand, as the coach travelled suddenly faster.

The coach was quite noisy, and after the lights of Dijon had disappeared, Karl turned to his guest. These were low ranking nobles of the French royal house, he thought, but still he felt these men didn’t deserve to stress themselves with the events in Dijon.

He addressed both nobles, shouting in order to cover the noise of the coach.

”We will be stopping at a small inn in an hour or so, if the roads are not blocked. Don’t worry, though, there won’t be any peasants if we pay them correctly… we’ll have the inn to ourselves. It’s the Auberge du Poisson Bleu… I don’t know why they called it that way…” he laughed with exaggeration.

Coming back to the subject of what was discussing prior to their leaving from Dijon, Karl continued ”Do not worry, your lordships, about not knowing the difficult situations regarding the abdication of Queen Éléanore… You couldn’t know… of course, His Majesty Louis XI didn’t ask too many questions… I guess as long as it remained within the royal family, all was well…. Do not bother with these details, for the past is written already, and only the white pages of the future should we concentrate our efforts on.” he shouted.

”In the end, the Directoire, in all its contradiction, is in control today. We share a common vision, of a united Lotharingia… I cannot explain it, we just know we aren’t totally imperial, and yet we aren’t totally from the French Kingdom either… we’re independent, and we kind of like this duality. The only thing we do not share is who owns the crown, but even for external affairs, we share mostly the same vision. And obviously, if we could agree at any moment to put our differences aside, should we need to intervene outside of the royal domains. Say someone would attack Lotharingia, we would all defend… we would simply send our troops and vote a fieffé. And when the war would be over, we’d get back to our quarrels…”

The coach slowed down, and Karl resumed to speak more quietly. ”Do not worry of the Yorkists. The Royal Crown of Lotharingia is bound to the crown of France and the House of Valois… we have a duty toward it… and we have a tacit agreement between the French, Flemish and German faction that we should support either the Emperor or the House of Valois should a problem arise.”

”And you know that the House of Berry is linked forever to the House of Montfort. That House is Plantagenet, mostly from the House Lancaster, I guess, though I get lost easily in these English family matters… Oh, you know, they claim so many things, that who knows what is real, and what is simply imagination at work….”

”Should they move against the House of Valois… they would meet ALL of the House of Valois, and that means the Valois from Lotharingia as well, and the members of the Directoire. I am not saying that they would send all their troops, but surely accommodations would be discussed, and help would be on the way promptly. “

The discussion continued for an hour, at which point they reached the Inn outside of Dijon. A few personal squires rented the inn completely for the night, and the nobles went inside. Ale was served, and the lords were invited to stay near the fire while the rooms were being prepared and investigated for possible traps.

Karl sat comfortably in front of the fire with his guests. He went on.

”In three months time, there will be a meeting of the Directoire. Perhaps, at this time, we will agree on the next king for Lotharingia. I am guessing Louis de Montpensier will be deposed, and a new king will be elected. Hopefully, we’ll agree on a new king…” he said, shaking his glass of ale to see if anything strange floated in it. ”It is not that we do not like Louis, but we’ll explain to him that the power of money prevails only as long as money is there… and if he rose to power with it, he should expect to go down when it is gone…”

”Of course, you are invited to attend at that time. You are Valois, you should attend to report to the King of France what is going on. We have not decided where the meeting will be held, but surely, we will see hear from Charles before then. And your Lordships will be able to meet with all the members. Perhaps, at that point, you will be able to judge on what are the issues regarding the crown, and be able to make a good decision in this misunderstanding.”

 

[Lord E]

Sir Armand looked out the window of the coach sitting in his own thoughts as he watched the soldiers walk past. He had lived in this city for several years now, and he had grown found of it. He only hoped the soldiers wouldn’t destroy the city.

Jean on the other side was watching the soldiers with a great deal of interest. Having fought battles himself and seen war he had always had a great interest for warfare, and now he watched as the rebels marched into Dijon. They seemed light equipped, but since all he could see ahead was lights and more lights he understood they had arrived in great numbers, and as such they probably made up for their light weapons.

As the coach left Dijon behind Jean felt a sudden relief, but he still had the feeling of great dangers. They had left Dijon, but they where going eastwards and for every moment they where going further away from a safe passage back to France. After all the land behind them was under rebel control it seemed. And His Majesty had hoped to hear from them, Jean was sure about it, but then on the other side what could Louis do if no news came, after all no news is better than hearing someone has fallen. After pondering over this matters for a very long time Jean concluded with that leaving Dijon was probably the best thing they could have done, and after all they where travelling with one of the most powerful nobles in Lotharingia, a man who was sure to could give them some information about what was going on.

As Karl turned to them and spoke, but men woke from their dreams and thoughts.

”Sounds good your Grace, I could need stretching my legs a little and getting ride of all the tension.
That was one great collection of soldiers we passed, they might be lightly armed, but they sure made up for it in numbers!”

“Well I guess His Majesty must have been satisfied with the throne staying in the family, and after all Louis had visited His Majesty in Louvre just months before he was crowned. So probably he struck some kind of deal with His Majesty back then. Well maybe….

All that is in the past…. And now the future is ahead. Your Grace an the Lords of Lotharingia have a great work ahead finding a new monarch, but also getting control over the rebels. After all I would presume that both Charles of Nevers and Philippe du Berry would like to be the next King of Lotharingia, so I presume you have one great job ahead.

As the coached slowed don they noise who had made if difficult to hear before was going away and therefore they lowered their voices.

”I do not know if His Majesty really fears Edmund of York, after all he seems to a lot of talk and not so much action. But we need to wait and see to know I guess, but what I do know is that His Majesty is planning on start pressing the claims of His Majesty’s son, the Dauphin, to His Highness’s English possessions that are rightfully His through inheritance.

That is the fat of the houses of England and Gaul I guess to be linked together, and always suffer from who is working for or against whom. But it makes me glad to know that France can always trust the support of her friends and relatives in Lotharingia! It is always important for a House to stand united, and I hope that I one day will be able to fight together with noble men of Lotharingia against the Yorkists!”

………………………………….​

As they entered the warm room in the Inn both Sir Armand and Jean could feel that they where tired and cold from the journey. And now it felt great to get indoors to a warm room.

”In three months time you say your Grace? Well I wish you all the best in the troubles that you have ahead from deciding on who will be the next sovereign of Lotharingia.
So your Grace presumes Louis will attend the meeting? I would think that His Majesty would either flee to His lands instead of facing the Lords who he should know want to remove him from power. Or what if the rebels imprison him or kill him?”

“We would of course be honoured to attend, and we will do our best to represent the views of His Majesty and the House of Valois. Sir Armand is still His Majesty’s envoy to Lotharingia after all, and we will do our best to keep the contact with His majesty open so that we are able to inform His Majesty. But at the present time I guess it will be a little difficult to send a letter through the rebel controlled areas to France?
Well we would be honoured to attend, and to meet with the other Lords of Lotharingia! And let us pray that we will be able to understand the …misunderstandings... at that time!”

 

[unmerged(18481)]

October, 1453 - somewhere in Lotharingia

Outcasts​

The winter’s coming on.

- James Douglas Morrison​

The means had become the aim. Trying to survive: originally, this had been only a step toward the goal that was to reach a safe haven; now survival was the only imaginable goal. The goal of fleeing Burgundy proper had shrunken into the goal of passing the next mile ahead; the goal of reaching Geneva or the Piedmont had become the goal of having something to eat; the goal of starting a fight against the rebels had diminished into the goal of having a warm place to rest in the evening. And none of the outcasts ever thought of the tomorrow.

Outcasts: they, the seven of them - the troubadour, the dowager, the Duke, the to-be Count, the Seigneur, the Pincess, and the baby-Queen -, they were on the lowest ever level of the society. Without money, without a home, without a liege and without vassals, without any kind of protection, they were but vagabonds, rouges, outcasts now. And persecuted outcasts. Hunted outcasts. They had to avoid the highways and the cities, they seldom ventured even into towns. They found shelters in villages known only by the local lords. They dared to travel only on neglected paths, or right through the wilderness.

On October 15th they encountered bandits. These villains showed a surprising amount of compassion toward their fellow miserable ones: they let them live, they let them remain free, they let them keep their warm clothes, and didn’t bother to really search them for valuables. Thank God they did not, for else they would have found the troubadour’s sword and the boys’ daggers: that would have been quite a suprise! These bandits had never even seen that much money a rusty sabre would cost. The bandits were satisfied with taking their food and the troubadour’s lute -- and so the gift the late Duke Antonio had given to Michele d’Hallot was no more.

On October 16th they tried to enter a town to get some food. Probably because of her aristocratic attitudes, precisely because she had shaven her hair above her forehead, the people figured Anna was a whore living in a concubinage with d’Hallot, and so the angry mob wanted to stone them, women and children were throwing peebles and mud at their rightful Queen, and so Her Majesty was no more, there was only a bitter woman called Anna Gryphon, a bitter woman with a weary face, a bitter woman with wounds running deeper and deeper, a bitter woman who was beginning to suspect that no matter how bleak the situation would seem, the things may always become even worse.

On October 18th the snow arrived. Their footgears got wet. D’Hallot and the children were pretty well off with their boots, but Anna had but some courtly shoes with rags reeled around her ankles.

On October 19th her frozen toes could not carry her anymore, she suddenly fell down into the soft-soft-soft snow that embraced her ever so gently…! She didn’t want to stand up at all. D’Hallot had to carry her for miles, because they had to go on, they had to go on, since they couldn’t know when the rebel militias would find their trace.

On October 20th Michele d’Hallot stole a bearskin in the village they slept that night. Queen Marie was fully wrapped in it, so she did not freeze to death.

On October 22th Roxanne de Savoie could not get up in the morning. Her forehead was hot like the fire, her entire body felt like being in flames, but as if within her bones, there was the cold. She felt a terrible pain even at the slightest move, even taking a breath hurt her. Pneumonia. She had to be kept warm, but she always threw off the blankets put on her. There was no more thin, tuneful little voice! There was only some husky-hoarse broken whisper coming from her throat: “…non, non, non, non, non, non…” The charcoal-burner who (probably because he’d been absolutely fed up with the loneliness) had given them shelter was very kind: he let them stay until the little girl would get better.

On October 26th d’Hallot killed the charcoal-burner. He had urged them way too strongly to stay at least until his wife would arrive. Maybe he’d had only the best intentions, but more probably he had begun to suspect something, wanting to notify the rebels about them through his wife -- and, well, better be safe than sorry. A stretcher was made for Roxanne, her brothers carried her.

On October 27th Raphael’s cheeks swelled up. The boy felt dizzy, he had a high fever, and then suddenly he simply fainted away.

On October 28th they couldn’t endure it any longer, and they ventured in the nearest city. It was unlikely Anna would be recognized in a such a state anyway. They got shelters in a hospital endowed by the Queen of Lotharingia. For a minute or two, Anna wondered who this magnanimous lady might be.

On October 31st, when Raphael got better, and Roxanne could walk with crutches, they departed. They had to. They had to. And somewhere in the deepest depths of her mind Anna still, despite and still, hoped for that safety, that haven, that sanctuary… Despite and still, she had some vague and obscure hope. She could still hope that somehow, anyhow, they will get there, and things will be as they had been before.

But until then there was the poverty, the darkness, the frost, the cold.

 

[BusterBunny]

Le Bienheureux

"You think I envy your new position in Burgundy? I do. You think Burgundy is more powerfull than my husband's lands? It is. And yet, there will be a time when Burgundy will rely on Savoie, for what makes Savoie so powerfull is its house, and the generations of alliances it has established will all the houses of Europe."

- Bonne du Berry, in a letter to her sister Marie, 1426.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October 10th, 1453

"Dead? DEAD?"

The duke couldn't believe the news.

"He killed him? With his own sword, with his own hands... intentionally, without remorse, without fear from the Directoire?”

The messenger nodded.

”Who else did he kill?”

”No one, your grace. We can say the only victim, up to now, has been the King Louis de Montpensier…”

”But this is madness! That wasn’t part of the plan!” Duke Amédée the IX said.

He joined his hands together, as if he was praying, and approached them from his mouth. He thought for a long minute before dismissing the messenger.

”Charles is out of his jurisdiction… he crossed a boundary… how will we explain this to the lords of Europe?” he added, shaking his head.

”Perhaps… if we hadn’t followed Duke Karl’s lead…his legislatures weren’t necessary… we could have voted a fieffé... there was no need to be so stiff with the King… He was a good man…” he surprised himself talking of the man in the past. ”He played a risky game, in a risky kingdom, in a risky position, but he wasn’t that bad of a man….”

The image of Louis de Montpensier slowly faded in Amédée’s memory. He tried to imagine how Louis looked like the last time he saw him, and had trouble remembering. It wasn’t that long ago the Directoire had abandoned the king, and yet it seemed like an eternity already. The only image he could remember was a painting that was hanging over a small fireplace at Dijon Castle, in a room Amédée often used during dinnertime. The painting was quite vivid, using yet dark colours to bring all the subtlety in the man’s face. It was a mysterious face, with a smile that hid a thousand intentions.

”Faith has been cruel to the man. He has the curse of the Berry, I guess….” he said.

”A poisoned gift…” a soft voice added.

Amédée turned quickly. All this time, he thought he was alone, and yet a shadowy figure had remained well hidden, sitting near a window. The moonless night didn’t allow Amédée to see the face.

”Who… who are you?” he asked.

”I am faith, I am the one to blame.” the voice answered.

Amédée suddenly understood the meaning, and immediately understood who this was.

”Your Imperial Majesty should have announced her arrival to her most humble of servants.” he said, bowing to the shadowy figure.

Éléanore came out of the darkness, showing a figure untouched by time. Her voice had lost innocence, and she was definitely now a woman. She had perhaps a wrinkle or two, next to her eyes, that were made more apparent each time she smiled. In a way, she looked like more of her mother now, though still young.

The Duke smiled. ”You chose one hell of a time to reappear, Your Imperial Majesty… Is the Emperor with your Majesty?” he asked.

”The Emperor is not here. Frederick is… imperial, and matters of family confines him to living far from me, I guess. I did my role, and now is time to move to other matters.” she admitted, hinting to the Emperor’s children.

”Please… please, sit down your Imperial Majesty.” Amédée said, showing a comfortable chair. ”I guess you’re heard the news…”

”I did…” she answered. ”I caused all of this… Louis didn’t deserve this. and she looked outside, hiding her tears. With the years, she had learned to hide the pain. Her wounds were long gone, physically at least, but she couldn’t help but relate this death to her assassination attempt on her after her coronation.

Amédée approached her, and said ”I am sorry, your Majesty… this is all just one big mess, made by men playing with powers they can’t control”

”That power being their immense ego, I guess… and we are all guilty of that, I guess.” she admitted, wiping a tear off her cheek.

She tried to change her mind by focussing on pressing issues. ”Family… is there any family… what of the girl… Marie?”

Amédée shook his head, and turned to his desk. ”Yes… the note and my messenger have contradictory versions about Marie… some say she’s dead, other say that Charles de Nevers has offered 1000 florins for bringing Marie dead or alive.”

Éléanore had never seen the young heir to Lotharingia, but she figured that she looked somehow like her own children. And then, it struck her. ”Anna…” she said in anger.

Her heart leaped hearing herself say the name she cursed so many times. Anne de Savoie was indeed the dowager queen of Lotharingia now. Éléanore never accepted that Anne had succeeded in seducing Frederick von Wittelsbach, and become Queen of Lotharingia. Even being the wife of the Emperor didn’t do it. For Éléanore, there was only one crown that was desirable, and that was the crown of Lotharingia.

”Well… she could be anywhere…” Éléanore said.

”Hopefully, she talked with Duke Phoebus” Amédée said.

”Ah, yes, good old Phoebus… but what would Phoebus have said?” she asked.

Amédée hesitated. ”Well, your Majesty, we were all asked not to intervene in this conflict. We were given prior warning to the events… not in detail. We didn’t know Charles de Never would capture Dijon, for example, but we knew his goal was to capture King Louis… we thought he would be imprisoned, and perhaps put in a fake trial. We thought that the line of Berry Montpensier would be preserved through Marie…”

”And in the meantime, the Directoire would rule supreme…. Like you did when I was younger.” continued Éléanore.

”But a regent would be found, surely…” she added.

”Yes… someone useless, who would concentrate on Marie’s development, while having other things to manage such as a foreign realm, and intrigues in her own court…” Amédée said.

”Anna…”

”Yes, Anna di Savoia, the dowager queen of Lotharingia, the dowager duchess of Piemonte… she is perpetually lost, and was under the protection of much of the court intrigues by Louis… can you imagine, raising Marie, managing the basic duties of Piemonte and Lotharingia… all of this, and the little matters. She would be completely lost, and perhaps this would have reflected somehow on Marie’s teaching.” Amédée added.

”A weak queen...” Éléanore concluded.

”Indeed. Allowing the Directoire to stretch even more, passing laws under the Queen’s nose, having her sign anything. It was a bright future for the houses of the Directoire, and a dissolution of the powers of the royal house.”

Éléanore couldn’t believe the story, but knew the Directoire could go very far in order to get a weak overlord.

Finally, the last piece of the puzzle fell in place.

”We learned a lot from your case, your Majesty. At first, we thought that by killing you, Lotharingia would be thrown in upheaval. Marie had no other heirs, and then perhaps the Directoire would have managed the domains alone, and perhaps even the King of France and the Emperor would have allowed for the lands to revert to their ancient forms within the Empire and France.”

”But you proved to be tougher that we expected. You didn’t die from the two arrows you had received from our assassin at your coronation. Even the small poison didn’t seem to affect you too much…”

Éléanore, fixing the window, touch instinctively her old wounds.

”Yes, that was a failure. But out of failure came something better yet: your incapacity to rule. Myriam de Montainblanc was no regent… she is a martyr, perhaps, and surely not a Maid anymore, for she has two children now. But she was no regent, she was barely a duchess… She was ineffective. We see her in Anna…” he said.

”Your days in bed allowed the Directoire to find a new legitimacy. The people kept calling your name, and your death was never announced. So the people were happy. Meanwhile, we could pass all kind of laws… we used the money of Montainblanc for ourselves, we voted laws that made it so the Royal House was weakened forever. Hence why even your strongest supporters, such as de Montainblanc couldn’t match the offerings from your half brother. He bribed us… bribed us good. So much that passing laws were not necessary anymore. We have him full powers, and went on with your lives, leaving you to marry into the Wittelbash, to please the German faction.” Amédée said.

Éléanore stood up, and walked toward the door. What she had heard was disturbing enough. All this time, she had thought her assassin was a remnant of the rebels in Artois, and man loyal to the old Count Maximillien d’Artois.

Before reaching for the door, Amédée added. ”Your Majesty… it was nothing against you… you were just the one with the crown…”

Éléanore closed her eyes and walked out.

 

[unmerged(18481)]

November 1st, All Saints’ Day - somewhere in Lotharingia

Outcasts​

This is the end, beautiful friend,
This is the end, my only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end.
No safety or suprise, the end.
I’ll never look into your eyes again.

- James Douglas Morrison​

“It hurts,” Roxanne whispered, whispered in her whole new voice, in that husky-hoarse, faint, broken, fractured voice. “Mama…! It…! Hurts…!” Anna encouraginly pressed the girl’s hand, her damp, very hot, little hand; Roxanne did not respond, her eyes failed to focus. She was breathing in gasps.

Anna suddenly sprung up, and - fleeing - she stumbled to the door, she stumbled outside, she stumbled out of the cowshed, out to the cold, to the courtyard, and she fell on her knees there, she fell in the deep snow. The snowflakes, the little ice-crystals were burning her face.

She was sobbing when d’Hallot lifted her and forcefully dragged her back into the shed. She was sobbing harder than ever as d’Hallot held her tight, as he kept caressing her hair. And she couldn’t care less when she noticed that Joachim and Victor were watching her with their eyes wide open, with sheer dismay in their glance. Would they get discouraged? Would the get frightened? Anna couldn’t care less. They would die anyway, they would die, all of her children who were her blood and her flesh, they will die, they will die regardless of everything, they will die, they will die for a vice or blunder nobody knew.

She couldn’t endure it any longer, she couldn’t. Now that was the end, now really it was. Something simply broke within, something simply snapped like the string when it’s overstrained. That something had snapped, snapped all of a sudden, with a very clear, very painful sound. And now it was over, now she was over, and now she wasn’t even a Gryphon, she wasn’t even Anna, she was but the very same little girl who had witnessed as the Plague had taken away her parents, she was now that four years old little girl whose pain finally broke through the barriers and swept away everything, but everything, in the way the flooding river washed away barriers, fences, buildings, villages.

The pain was sharp. It was white in colour, and its sound was like that of the stormy sea.



While they had had a pretty good day, one of the best during their flight. In the evening, right when they were beginning to abandon the hope to find a warm place to sleep at, they met a nobleman and his small escort. Anna knew the noble from her court. They had talked at least twice, and she had found the middle-aged knight sympathetic; she remembered he had been behaving with a great deal of chivalrous courtesy, in the old style. Now, however, he but squinted toward her, and saw but a beggar-woman, nothing more.

“Give ‘em a dime or two,” the knight barked to his squire.

“My Lord! My Lord, I beg you!” d’Hallot rushed there, falling on his knees beside the noble’s horse with great theatricity. “My Lord, the little girl is very ill,” he waved toward Roxanne, “please show some Christian charity toward the miserable ones!”

Reluctant, the noble looked down at him. “What d’ya want, then?”

“Just some modest shelters we could spend the night at. Some warmth and some safety, that’s all we’re begging for.”

The noble giggled. “Safety, eh? In times like this?” He laughed bitterly. “I myself lack that safety you’re begging for, how could I give some to you?”

D’Hallot grinned. “Then give us only some warmth, this time we’ll be satisfied with it. Your Lordship may wait with giving the safety until Your Lordship will have gathered some.” It was a risky thing to say this, but the possible gain was worth that risk. And the noble looked satisfied with the answer, he graciously let them sleep in his cowshed.

Oh, that cowshed! A wonderful gift. It was cold there, yes, near freezing, but after being outside all day long, it seemed blissfully hot. Then Roxanne’s illness got worse.



She could not hear Roxanne’s ceaseless whispering, she did not hear even her own sobbing. She heard but the sound of the stormy sea. She saw but the blinding whiteness of her pain. All the pain of her thirty-two years. Thirty-two years of misery. Her body, her mind, her soul, her heart -- all were overrun by the pain, and then suddenly there were no more “Why?”-s.

She remembered the yearning she had watched her falcon’s flight with in Nürnberg, years ago.

Bird of prey, bird of prey,
Flying high, flying high,
Take me on your flight.​

And now she had gotten it, she had gotten the flight. She had gotten the freedom, the liberty, now she was without duties, without dependeces, without constrains, without fears, there was no more of the guilty conscience now.

She’d been purified. Both in body and mind. There was no more need of the dreampowder, there was no more desperate craving for being loved. There was no more of the shame.

I am what I am.​

She’d been purified. She’d been purged. It wasn’t easy, but who said the Purgatory is pleasant?

I am a survivor.​

Antonio di Savoia was dead, Anna lived. Joachim of the Greif was dead, Anna lived. Louis de Berry was dead, Anna lived. The Honour, the Strength, the Slyness -- they all were gone, Anna stayed.

I am a Gryphon.​

The most majestic of all the beasts. With the beak of an eagle -- can crush anything. With the claws of a falcon -- they never let anything go. With the body of a lion -- invulnerable. And with an angel’s wings -- they can make her fly away, away, away.

I am Anna Gryphon, Queen of Lotharingia, Duchess of the Piedmont.​

She’d been purged. And nothing remained, only she herself.

I can do anything.​

Anna opened her eyes. She was panting. D’Hallot still held her tight, she felt his arms wrapped around her body. She didn’t need him. Not anymore.

It was the fever, of course. She herself had gotten ill, her fever was very high. But fever or not, she felt like floating, and she felt free.



“I don’t like the idea at all.”

Anna shrugged. “You don’t need to like it.”

“We’ve decided we won’t give it up,” d’Hallot reminded her.

“And we’re not giving anything up,” Anna gave the reply rapidly. “We’re only taking a risk.”

“A huge risk.” As an answer, she but shrugged her shoulder again. “You’re making conclusions from a single sentence of his,” d’Hallot continued. “But even if he’s indeed fallen out of favour with the rebels, what if he’d use the opportunity to get their favour?”

“Could it be worse?”

“Yes,” d’Hallot said. “It always can be worse.”

“Do you want me to order you?”

“Do you want me to disobey your order?”

Anna paused. “Otherwise Rosie would die,” she remarked, squinting at her sleeping children. And Michele d’Hallot did not have the heart to say that “she will die anyway.”

And thus, half an hour later, the troubadour threw all his gift for the stage and all his charm into the scales, and finally delivered Anna’s letter to their host.

Monseigneur,


We, Anne, Dowager Queen of Lotharingia, herewith place Ourselves, Our children, and the bearer of this letter under Your Lordship’s protection. We require Your Lordship to give Us unconditional hospitality, as well as help to continue Our voyage. We also wish Your Lordship to keep Our presence here as a secret, for Our enemies are numerous.

We are ready to meet Your Lordship in peron when Your Lordship finds it convenient.



Written by her own hand, on All Saints’ Eve, A.D. MCDLIII.

Anne​

Princesse Impériale, Reine de Lotharingie, Duchesse de Bourgogne et du Piémont, tutrice de sa très chère fille, Sa Majesté Marie II, par la Grâce de Dieu Reine de Lotharingie, Duchesse de Bourgogne, de Montpellier, de Savone, Comtesse de Montpensier, d’Impérie, de Chavarie, etc. etc.

 

[BusterBunny]

Pierre d'Amboise, Seigneur de Chaumont

The County of Champagne reverted back to the Crown of France in 1284. With it, the long line of the de Champagne was gone forever in history. Yet, their castle remained, and the House of Amboise continued to exercise its rules over the region of Chaumont and Langres for 200 years.

Pierre d’Amboise was still young when he joined Jeanne d’Arc at Orléans. Unfortunately, Jeanne died soon after, and France’s hope for a brighter future had lost all its momentum. Soon afterward, the English conquered Champagne in the Treaty of Arras, and the House of Amboise was under the rule of a Plantagenet king once again.

The County of Champagne was released to Burgundy in the 1430s, and though the ruling family of Champagne changed through a series of incidents, the castle of Chaumont was still the property of the House of Amboise, forever a pillar of stability in a region that saw many soldiers in the Hundred Years War.

The Castle of Chaumont, and its surroundings, were strategic. It controlled the beginning of the Loire region, and was also now one of the main road crossing from north to the south of Lotharingia.

When Pierre woke up that morning, he didn’t notice at first the slow snow falling outside. In his mind, political matters were being analysed, trying to make sense of all he had heard in Dijon. A few days ago, he was there, in the occupied city. All seemed normal, except for this strange feeling of wait that everybody seemed to show on their face. Even Charles of Nevers seemed to wait for something to happen.

It seemed nothing would go on this winter. The granaries were full in Chaumont, and there was no large troops to support anyhow, as most armies where now being stationed up in the north for winter.

D’Armagnac, his overlord, had pressed him to not take side in this civil war. ”The last thing we need right now is to loose our lands to the rebels or the crown…what we need is to sit here for the winter. And then… we’ll see.”

It was the line he gave to Charles de Nevers, when asked for support. Perhaps not the best diplomatic move, however. Charles had told him that ”King Louis also thought he was safe…” and now, he was dead.

The approaching winter was now bringing, as usual, a load of poor peasants to the doors of Chaumont and Langres. Langres could sustain much more people, by its Roman design. Chaumont was Frankish, and not necessarily efficient. It was, however, quite a fortress. His grand father had resisted the dukes of Burgundy in that fortress, after all.

Pierre d’Amboise finally looked outside, and the snow, a little early this year, had quickly hypnotized him. He tried to follow each snowflakes falling down, and trying to concentrate on only one proved to be overwhelming. Far in the fields, a small wooden cabin, a cowshed, reminded him of an encounter, only a few days ago. He was returning from Dijon, and he met with a couple that required a place for shelter. He had agreed that they could stay in that very same cowshed, as they had sick children with them.

Poor beggars… don’t have kids if you don’t have a house for them he thought to himself. The man wasn’t even strong enough to be a good peasant. But there was something familiar in the woman’s eyes… and perhaps this was the reason he had agreed to let them stay there. If the man would simply be a little sturdier, he could be a good serf… But again, that would have to wait after the winter.

The messenger came in, as always with a few letters.

”Anything special?” Pierre asked.

”Nothing out of the ordinary, My Lord.” the messenger said, looking at each letters one after the other. ”Ah, there’s a forgery here… a bold one at that.”

Pierre laughed. He had seen so many bad forgeries these days. ”Ah? And who is writing to me this time?” he asked, laughing.

The messenger smiled politely. ”The Queen of Lotharingia, my Lord… it looks like her seal.”

Pierre continued to laugh. ”OooOooh. Better watch out then. She’s worth a lot right now. 1500 florins now. Charles is persistent…. Here, throw the letter to me.”

Confused on how to deliver the letter, the messenger walked toward Pierre and gave him the letter in his hands. ”My Lord?” asking if he could be of assistance.

”Thank you, I will be reading them… as always, come and see me around mid day, I’ll have a few messages for you to deliver.”

The messenger left, and Pierre looked at the forged letter. He turned it over, and saw the seal. He looked at it closer. Well… that is a damn good forgery…. he thought. Technically, the seal would have the arms of Lotharingia on them, but the Queen preferred to use the Griffon seal. And indeed, on that letter, the Griffon seal was very clear.

Breaking the seal, he began to read the letter. Turning toward the fireplace, he couldn’t decide if the letter was true or not, but something told him it was genuine. And if it was the case, this would be a very delicate situation…

He ran outside his room, and went back to the messenger, signalling to his guards to follow him.

”You there! STOP! I ORDER YOU TO STOP!” Pierre shouted.

The messenger didn’t turn back, and waited.

”You will tell me who gave you this letter.” Pierre asked.

The messenger said passively. ”Your Lordship knows who gave me this letter…”

”Yes… I know who…” he answered, and thought for a few seconds.

”You’re not a real messenger… You’re with her… you’re the man to who I gave the money the other day… Where is she now?” he asked.

”Your lordship… are you going to help her?” the messenger asked.

”That is not for discussion…” D’Amboise answered. He looked then at his guards. ”Have this man arrested, and send him to the donjon. You know where.” he said to the captain of his personal guards. The man smiled, and said ”As always, I understand, your lordship.”

”Now, have your men go to a cowshed west of the Porte St-Jean. You can’t miss it… it’s near the river. There, you will find a woman with a kid or two. Have them arrested as well on charges of treason against the crown of Lotharingia. No killing, and use force only if they resist.”

”My Lord?” the guard captain asked. ”Like this man here, send them to the Donjon… you know where.” Pierre said. ”As always, I understand, your lordship” the guard answered.



The morning after, Pierre d’Amboise woke up early, and met with the captain of his personal guards.

”In which room are they?” he asked to the captain.

”My Lord, the man was put for a few minutes in the donjon, and when the guards left, I did as you had told me, and escorted him myself to the guest rooms.” he answered.

”Excellent… and the woman and the kids.” he asked.

”The woman put on a fight, my Lord, and I had to render her unconscious, which made the kids panicked. Suffice it to say they were also put in the donjon for a few minutes, and when the guards left, I escorted them myself to the guest room.” he answered.

”Did you give them good clothing, and warm up the room a little? They were in the cold for a long time.” he asked.

”Indeed, my lord. I found a maid that we could trust. She gave a bath to the kids, the messenger, d’Hallot he is called, helped calm the kids. Queen Anna finally woke up this morning, and we brought plates of fruits and bread. the captain said.

”Good… good… the maid… you say we can trust her?”

”She is my wife, My Lord!”

Pierre smiled. ”Good… good. Was there any signs that could prove the authenticity… is she really Queen Anna?”

The guard had a flash, and looked in a small pouch he had with him. ”I found this… it’s a ring, with the Griffon seal. I searched the Queen for other objects, and this is only what I found. I have the ring to one of the monks of Clairveaux last night, and they confirmed it was the seal of Anna of the Griffon.”

”They’re in there?” he asked.

”Yes, my lord.”

”Let NO ONE in, except me and your wife, if needs be. I’ll go talk to them.”

Pierre opened the door, and sat down in front of Anna.

”Your Majesty, my name is Pierre d’Amboise, seigneur de Chaumont. You will forgive my guards… I do not trust my own men, and the price on your head right now is quite attractive for many of them. If they’d know who you are…” he trailed off.

”But now, you’re safe here, for a while. My men think you and your family are simply beggars or criminals, and still think you’re in the donjon anyhow.”

”Can I do anything to serve your Majesty”?

 

[unmerged(18481)]

November 4th, Sunday - Chaumont, Champagne, Lotharingia

“First off, perhaps Your Lordship might give me back my seal,” Anna smiled, and stood up, trying to hide the pain. “And a full bath would be also much welcomed.” Her back, her waist, but especially her neck and shoulders were hurting terribly; she had difficulties with moving her right arm.

The Dowager Queen of Lotharingia courtseyed, and extended her bruised, frostbitten hand toward d’Amboise: again, shooting pains racked her arm - she’d never been beaten before, a snap in the face had been the most she had gotten before. But then, this pain was nothing compared to the agony she’d experienced on the All Saints’ Eve.

“Seigneur d’Amboise, it’s a pleasure to meet you again, even considering the circumstances,” she said in her soft contralto, “I hope your wife -- my namesake, if I recall correctly -- and your children are all well… Your firstborn is called Charles, right? I would have been glad to bring them some modest gifts… well, if not the circumstances.”

She smiled again, disregarding that d’Amboise’s mien remained dark, and she sank back in her chair, arranging the furs around her hips: the cold was still there, within her bones.

“We might exchange news, no? I believe the news of my husband’s death to be true…?” she said, sort of questioning, not without hope. “And the only other news I can share with you is that on behalf of my daughter, Marie, I lay claim on the Crown of Lotharingia, along with all titles and lands attached to it. Furthermore, I assume regency for her until a proper Regency Council can be formed.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m curious about the news Your Lordship might know. For example, I don’t know about the fate of the Duc d’Auvergne. I also need to know about the fate and stance of the other lords of the Kingdom… and I’m curious what is the stance of the foreign lords, especially the King of France and the Emperor.”

Anna suddenly felt tired. One single sleep wasn’t nearly enough to enable her to recover her strength: she shot an envious glance at the curtain behind which, in the other room, her children were sleeping. But eventually she forced herself to turn back to d’Amboise, looking in his eyes.

“Whether you can do anything to serve me, you ask?” she began. “Well, I don’t want you to serve me. I need allies and I need friends, not servants. But if Your Lordship is ready to help me, and if Your Lordship’s hospitality is great enough to include granting me the right to leave… Well, in that case I would need help to travel to… to Geneva. Or, depending on the news, to Paris, or to the Rheinpfalz. But in theory I have to meet with the Dukes of Auvergne and Savoy in Geneva. See, I’m honest with you,” she added. “Also, if I’m to leave indeed, I would leave my children except my firstborn and Marie here with you, in safety. You might introduce them as your distant cousins, I guess. But it all depends on you,” Anna said. “My fate is in your hands.”

 

[BusterBunny]

November 4th 1453 - Château de Chaumont, County of Champagne, Lotharingia.

Anna didn't take too much time to regain the inherent prestige she had when she was the queen of Lotharingia. Poor girl Pierre thought if only she knew all that happened.

He stood up, and invited Anna to sit by the fire for a while. D’Hallot seemed to listen carefully while playing with some of the children, who themselves, appeared to have forgotten the difficulties of the past few days.

Pierre sat down slowly, and looked into the fire. He remembered the night in Dijon, for he was there.

”Your Majesty... I’m afraid you’d prefer for me not to tell you these things. I don’t have muuuch good news to tell your majesty about.”

He turned to her.

”First of, keep this...” he gave the ring back to Anna. ”Whatever happens, keep it, except if you think you’ve been captured by Charles’ men...” Shaking his head, he added ”Of course... that’s difficult to evaluate, I guess. I cannot even trust my own men. The price on your head, and on Queen Marie’s head, is too important to be ignored.”

Even by me... Pierre thought to himself. ”Gold florins...”

”The king is dead. He died after abdicating. I was there. I saw.” he said, visibly shaken. ”I guess you see the true face of a man when he faces death...” he said, almost automatically. ”No, that’s not right.... he didn’t face death... death came to him. King Louis wanted to protect you and your daughter...He abdicated under threats of having all men in the kingdom looking for you, and putting a price on your head.”

”Of course, once he signed his abdication, he made a faux-pas, and revealed to them that you would be going back to Piemonte.” He took a deep breath. ”His utility was gone... Charles passed a dagger through the poor King’s heart.”.

”I guess history won’t remember that. They’ll simply say that the King didn’t agree with the Count, and the Count killed him. But history is written by the victor, I guess. The truth will be forever lost: King Louis died for his family.”

”Let’s see... humm, de Chateaupers is in prison in Dijon. De Nevers discovered the truth from the coach driver who transported you at one point, and under severe punishment, he admitted everything. I hear the old Duke is quite ill.”

He looked in the air, trying to remember the other members of the Directoire, mumbling in silence.

”And... Karl von Wittelsbach is in Strassbourg. He is trying to organize a meeting regarding the Directoire with all the lords of the kingdom....” he hesitated.

”One of the item at the agenda is... the regency should Marie be found. De Nevers has put forward a motion for review where the Directoire would lead the kingdom during Marie’s majority. The motion explicitly says that should Marie die, the line Berry Plantagenet would come back to power under Philippe du Berry.”

He moved his head near Anna and whispered ”Of course, a law mentioning the possible death of a certain person is never a good sign for said-person.”

He resumed at a normal tone. ”Of course, I’m not part of the Directoire. Unfortunately, your Majesty is not recognized as...” he hesitated again and coughed. ”Well... some members question your authority and some of your capabilities.”

”But then they did also for Queen Éléanore. And we know the rest.”

”Amédée de Savoie is looking for your Majesty. His armies are mobilized at the frontier of Savoie, and scouts are sent deep in the mountains and in the fields of Bourgogne even, casting aside the Royal Convention about no attacks on fellow Directoire members.”

”Frederick the Red is still receiving all sort of artists in his castle at Heidelburg, architects, men of science and faith. He is living a happy life. The Diet has apparently not assembled in a long time, and Frederick also sent a letter to princes of the Empire stating that he was abdicating. I was talking to some Lords in Bar the other day, and they said they didn’t really care. The Emperor Frederick was a man of title, but not of power.”

”As for King Louis XI... who knows.” he said, waving his hand as if saying that it didn’t really matter in the end.

”Aside from that, the other lords have either aligned with Nevers and Artois, or simply remained neutral.” he added. ”I guess the amounts paid by Artois were enough to convince many. Even the Church.”

He concluded his list of lords by looking at Anna’s children. ”They’re all very lovable, I think. They have suffered much.” He smiled. ”My wife gave birth to 15 children up to now. Some have died from far less than what they’ve been through... of course, I will have never experienced the hell you’ve been through, and hope I will never will.”

He turned back to Anna.”You are still my queen, and you are free to leave, obviously. But beware, even as we speak, my guards and servants will figure there are guests in the castle, and it is only a matter of time before they discover who you are. For now, I advise you to stay here, and I’ll arrange for you to leave in the coming month, if Your Majesty finds the comfort of my humble castle acceptable.”

As he was speaking to Anna, a maid opened the door slowly and looked around. She came in, dropped a few clothes of, and walked out. Pierre looked at her ”Odd... my captain’s wife was pregnant last time I saw her...”. He smiled and thanked the maid.

”Well. Is there anything I can do for you my Queen? Your bath will be coming shortly.”

As he was pronouncing these words, the maid froze, and continued her work for a short while. When she finished, the closed the door behind her, and ran back to the kitchen. There, she met with some guards.

 

[BusterBunny]

November 6th 1453 - Dijon, Duchy of Burgundy, Lotharingia.

"I have good news my friends... good news indeed." said Charles de Nevers.

He took a piece of paper and threw it on the table in front of him.

"This, my lords, is a note from a guard in Chaumont. It seems we weren't looking in the right place..." Charles admitted. "But then, I guess even the King wasn't aware of this... he had told me she would be going to Piemonte. But then, the passes are blocked now, because of the snow... there's a way through Lyon..."

"She could have gone to Geneva also... Duke Amédée is sympathetic to the Berry line... and very loyal to the Crown." the Count of Artois added.

Jean d'Artois, the son of the former Count of Artois Maximillien, killed at the battle of Artois deux decades ago, scratched a scar on his left cheek, healed a long time ago.

"Yes, well, it is useless to think about it now, because I think we have identified her in Chaumont. She is apparently safe, with a bard... I guess d'Hallot. And her kids. Including Marie."

Artois continue to scratch his scar and then rubbed his eyepatch. "What do we know about... whoever is in Chaumont... That's within Champagne, no?"

"Indeed... The Castle of Chaumont is located near Langres. Last time I checked, reports had it that Pierre d'Amboise was the lord of Chaumont." Philippe de Berry said.

"Chaumont can be bought...." Philippe added.

"But my chests are running dry... we have to account for the price over the head of Queen Anna." Artois said.

"SHE IS NOT A QUEEN! SHE WILL NEVER BE A QUEEN! SHE IS A WHORE!" bursted Philippe.

"My mother always fought against the Griffons, and de Montainblanc fought against the Griffons, and they will always be the ennemy of Lotharingia! Louis was a fool to marry her. He should have left her in Piemonte to rot in Torino. This is a kingdom, not some small Mediterranean duchy easily bought by the pockets of the Emperor. Lotharingia has only ONE LINE, and that is the House of my mother, the Valois, and of my father, the Plantagenet. There's no Bourbons, no Griffons, no Orléans or whatsnot." He showed his hands. "THIS is the blood chosen for the crown. And anyone who opposes that will be executed."

Artois smiled briefly to Charles de Nevers. Artois had raised the kid well, and now his will to crush the ones opposing him served them well.

Charles said "My Lord, I agree with you, and let me reaffirm our will to support your claim with our money and troops."

Philippe calmed down and sat down again in front of a map of the kingdom. "So... what do we have here?" Small wooden figures represented troops deployed in the kingdom, with names attached to them. Some troops were loyal to the former King, some others remained neutral and were garrisonned, and the others were in control of the League of Arras.

"Well, we have troops here, and this is where we'll stop for winter." Artois said to Philippe, pointing troops in Champagne, Nevers, Artois and part of Lorraine. "Of course, for now, we don't really care about the Free Imperial cities of Lorraine. We'll simply avoid them when spring comes, and head to reinforce the militias in Burgundy. From there, we'll split the troops to maintain control."

Charles spoke up again. "Meanwhile, we need to impose our will to the Directoire... if the witch of Piemonte is alive, she will claim regency for her daughter."

Philippe asked "When are we going to meet with the Directoire?" Charles promptly answered "Within 3 months time, in Geneva, if the weather permits."

"Then she must not be allowed to leave Chaumont.... if she could die, it would be best. Can't we have an assassin poison her?"

Nevers shook his head "The lord of Chaumont apparently keeps her well guarded, and few members have access to her.... it would be difficult..." Philippe cut "but not undoable."

Nevers looked at the young Berry "True, not undoable.... risky... If it doesn't work, we'll have lost precious time."

Philippe looked at the map again and pushed some of the wooden figures around. Finally he pointed to two figures on the map "Those two there... how far are they from Chaumont?" Philippe asked. Artois looked at the map and guessed "A week or so..."

Philippe raised his head and looked at Artois. "You think it's doable? I mean, we killed the king... who cares about the Queen and Marie. Simply destroy the castle and let them die in it...."

Nevers liked the bold move. Artois said "But... it's almost winter... no one makes troops walk in winter."

Nevers smiled. "Exactly... so no scouts... we'll take them completely by surprise."

The three men looked at the map and nodded.

A knock on the door broke the silent consensus. A man came in and said "My Lords, Philippe de Grandson is requesting audiance... again"

Philippe looked at the two other men "I think he's Piemontese. I'll deal with him... you two make sure that we're at Chaumont within two weeks. Siege the city. Let no one out."

Nevers rolled the map, and left with Artois.

Grandson was allowed in, with Philippe sitting comfortably near the fire.

 

[unmerged(18481)]

November 4th, 1453 - Chaumont Castle, County of Champagne, Lotharingia.​

Keeping biting her lip, Anna absent-mindedly stared after the leaving maid for a minute or two. Her pale face was set. She then took a deep breath. “Well then---” she began, and broke off. The Queen felt as the desperation and the panic were silently creeping back into her heart. Anna was beginning to feel lost again; she slowly blushed.

She shook her head. “The history is written by the victor, you say? Well, I happen to have a son called Victor,” Anna said somewhat angrily, with a gloomy smile. “And… I’ve experienced hell indeed? Purgatory, maybe. Or, why, yes, it’s hell, of course, but it does have a use or two. As the poet says: And I have sunken down into the living and deaf and hot darkness of tortures, not for three days, but for three months, for three years or three centuries to find the old voice that would enable me to speak as bravely as my bad throat allows… And so on. Sorry about the bad translation. My late husband wrote it,” she explained. “My first husband.”

“But enough of sentimentalism,” Anna rasped suddenly, more to herself than to d’Amboise. “Thank you for the news. Well, I don’t believe the news about His Most Serene and Pacific Majesty to be true, but I guess it’s bad enough if such rumours are spreading. As for the Directoire… well, I question their capabilities as well as they question my own. Also, as long as the Directoire is led by régicides, we aren’t able to recognize the legality of any of their acts or decisions,” she continued, starting to use the royal plural unintentionally. “We wish Your Lordship to know, however, that we are ready to forgive everybody of those currently against us… except the régicides, of course.”

“Anyway… my Lord, with all due respect, I believe you are contradicting yourself,” she continued, shaking her head. “You urge me to stay, while you say that your household may soon discover who I am. And a month is too much anyway. Although I am truly grateful for your hospitality, and even though I would really love to stay… I have got to go. Tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or… No, I shall depart on the day after tomorrow, yes, at least if Your Lordship allows me to, and if Your Lordship would be kind enough to lend me… clothes, food, horses, a weapon or two, such as crossbows… maybe a sleigh? I don’t care about the winter… I’ve got to meet with the Duke of Savoy, I’ve got to get in touch with the Duke of Alsace, I’ve got to contact my family, the King of France, the King of England, the Emperor,” she enumerated, obviously but thinking aloud; she then looked back at d’Amboise, “and I would not want to get you in trouble,” she added in a low voice.

“But again,” she continued, closing her eyes, “I would like to leave my children except Joachim and Marie here with you, if it’s possible. You could well introduce them as your cousins. They’re rarely styled as anything else but ‘Lord’ and ‘Lady’, and they do know how to keep secrets. And Rosanna would need a doctor,” she added, squinting toward her, “would badly need a doctor.”

Anna felt as her strength was fleeing her rapidly, she found it harder and harder to concentrate. Now she yearned only for that promised bath, for those soft-warm-clean clothes… and sleep… sleep… days of dreamless sleep.

She forced herself to open her eyes, she forced herself to smile, she forced herself to stand up. “Then, my Lord, if you excuse me… I would take over that bath,” she smiled. “Please do convey my greetings and gratitude to your wife… And… thank you very much again,” she said, and courtseyed, bowing her head. “I am more than grateful to Your Lordship. I am in your debt indeed.”

 

[BusterBunny]

Pierre d'Amboise nodded at all the things Anna said, even if he disagreed with some of it. There's no use fighting with her, her will is now stronger than all the castles of Europe he thought.

Anna finished her requests, and thanked Pierre.

"Your Majesty, it is a pleasure to have you here. You can leave when you want to. I guess I'm not making much sense, I agree, but I simply cannot tell you who you will find as an ally. Perhaps Duke Amédée is... I wouldn't know. A sleigh... that... can arranged. I can also assign to you some guards... but I cannot garanty their loyalty, unfortunately...."

He hesitated.

"Or perhaps I can... You would be leaving with only two of your children... And you're with d'Hallot... you could pass for a couple... No one would suspect you then..." He smiled "The only thing we'd need is to find you a unrecognizable title... and Italian one, perhaps... or a Pommeranian one... speak Italian or German during all the time... Yes, yes, that might work."

"And I'll assign the captain my personnal guards to lead the guards accompanying you. He'll play along, and he is the only man I can trust..."

Pierre seemed happy about the plan he figured out.

"I'll make the arrangements. We have a doctor here, he will be able to look after your daughter. When you're ready to leave, send d'Hallot to inform me... please do not leave this room before you decide to leave the castle."

He finally bowed and left. Closing the door behind him, he hesitated and then shook his head. "1500 florins...". He looked around "Why am I doing this for her... I could loose everything..." He took a deep breath. "But then, she is more determined than any of us here... better not stay in her way."