December 5th, 1453 – Chaumont, County of Champagne, Lotharingia
”No news from Strassburg?” Pierre asked, nervously.
”No news, father.” his oldest son, Charles, now 24 years old. The young man was ready to follow his father whatever decision he made.
”This is not good… the Imperial Free Cities aren’t responding to our letters…” Pierre said.
”But then it has only been a week, father, and frankly, in this snow, perhaps the messengers have not had the time to reach Strassburgs and the others… It quite cold outside…”
”Quite so… quite so.” Pierre said, thinking of all the possibilities offered to him.
”What of the children?” his son asked.
Pierre had almost forgotten about them.
”Get them readied, all of them. The Queen’s children and your brother and sisters.”
A pikeman entered and bowed. ”My lord, they passed the outer wall. They got the gate.”
”Damn… Close the inner gates, gather up inside, I want to hold out here as long as we can. How’s the southern gate holding?” Pierre asked.
”Still holding, sire… the cannons are all positioned at the main gate, the southern gate has not been stormed. The Count’s troops are concentrating their efforts through the north.” the guard said.
Pierre looked at his son, and then turned back to look at the main hall. Soldiers were gathered there, waiting to reinforce the wall guards and the urban militia.
”Take these men there, Charles, and escape with your brother and sisters.”
”Father, these are the knights under your command, they’re what’s left of your personal guards.” Charles pointed out.
”Indeed, they’re very capable men… come with me first.” and Charles followed his father to the main hall.
Pierre looked at his knights, and spoke up. ”Fifty thousand men were sent to do the will of one. Fifty thousand men out there… all wanting that which is not here anymore. And yet, here I am, having to protect that which they do not want, but could use anyhow.”
”These walls have protected my family for generations against Burgundians, but these days are over…” Pierre said, suddenly cut off by a large rumble. The cannons were now aiming the main keep.
”My family needs to reach Vaudémont or Metz… and they need to reach it very quickly. You will obey my son, as he will be your lord for now on. Should he fall, you have a duty to reach Lorraine, and to swear fealty to the Maid of Lorraine herself.” Most men smiled hearing her name, for some had fought for her before, and the others had heard tales of the quasi-mythical figure.
Another explosion was heard, coming from a room nearby. Troops were heard fighting in the corridors.
”Now, I leave you with my son Charles, he will now be Lord of Chaumont.” Pierre said, and he bowed to his own son. ”Charles, I abdicate my title and possessions, in front of God and his servants, to you. Farewell, Seigneur de Chaumont, Charles d’Amboise!”
”Now go, and reach for Lorraine. Protect the Queen’s children as if they were your brother and sisters.” Pierre ordered. Charles’ face became white, and he couldn’t say a word. He simply covered himself with his heavy cloak, and marched to greet his family, at the other side of the room. ”Come, all of you, we’re leaving.” Charles said, coldly, to his family as well as the Queen’s children. Some were crying, other simply looked around, as if they knew that this would be the last time they would see the walls of their castle. The delegation gathered up, including maids for the younger children. The convoy left the castle quickly, and as the castle burned, the confusion of all the peasants leaving through the south gate allowed for the convoy to pass unarmed.
December 9th, 1453 – Geneva, Duchy of Savoie, Lotharingia.
The nobleman was confused by the current situation. "This is not what I'm used to, Éléanore." he admitted. "No one's moving... Nothing is HAPPENING" he insisted. "This is not what I'm used to..."
The duke of Savoie, Amédée, looked at the two people on front of him discussing. Éléanore seemed to insist on the capabilities of the nobleman to be able to work around the complexity of the current situation. ”No... no no no, you did it last time, this is the same thing...” Éléanore insisted.
”Oh, my dear Queen... this is nothing like last time... we have no supplies for the main army. The roads here, here and... here are blocked. Our only hope would be through France, and then, it’s winter, so they can’t supply much without starving their own population. These men will die by attrition or simply leave...” the nobleman said, pointing to the King’s army in Champagne.
Peter von Lothringen loved to look at those maps. He had been far from them in his short assignment as vice-chancellor at the Diet of the Holy Roman Empire.At the request of Éléanore, who despite his aristocratic character, was still a very able man when it came to strategy and warfare. However, now politics was involved very deeply. The king was dead, the Queen had fled, the royal family was in disarray, the League of Arras had made a bold move in Dijon, and frankly, Lotharingia was simply in a state of anarchy, with the Directoire being involved in a series of small border skirmishes, pressing long lost claims.
By its structure, Lorraine and Alsace were spared of all this madness, mainly because the Free Imperial Cities were strong centres of trade, and well protected by their own Leagues and urban militias. This wasn’t true for all of Lotharingia.
”We can request a levy in Lorraine… if you can request a levy in Alsace, we might stand a chance. We’d need to meet them here…” Peter pointed on the map. ”This is Chateau Guyon… there, we can control the access to….” she said, before being cut off by Amédée. ”Chateau Guyon does not exist anymore.” he said coldly.
Éléanore and Peter turned to the Duke ”What do you mean does not exist?” asked Éléanore, fully aware of the strategic importance of Chateau Guyon. ”Simply does not exist. The city is still there, but the castle is gone. King Louis signed for it to be dismantled a few years ago, and now it is gone. There some low ramparts left, I guess.”
Peter asked. ”Why would he sign to dismantle Chateau Guyon?”.
Amédée stood up, irritated. ”If some of you would have been there at the time, you would have known that. 5 years ago, passing over the Directoire, the King signed an edict requesting for key fortifications to be dismantled. The remains would be used for his delusion of grandeur.”
He pointed Dijon on the map and trailed his finger up to Langres, then Bar, Châlons and Reims. ”A road… yes, a road… like the Romans of Caesar. ROADS. Dismantling precious castles, the basic foundation of our security in order to use the rocks to make old roads for merchants.”
He waved at some strategic points on the map. ”Grosille, gone. Mirillon, just a keep now. Épinal and Thionville, gone, Roubaix, gone…”
”And a bunch of others…And these roads are not even constructed… the rocks are everywhere, spread all around the kingdom.”
Peter looked down at the map, while Éléanore sat down to think about the situation.
”We need to raise these armies quickly… Chaumont won’t stand forever. Peter pointed out.
”For all we know, it’s probably already taken.” Éléanore said, shaking her head.
”It’s been only two weeks since D’Amboise asked for help. Nevers can’t have left Dijon, and frankly, the troops in the north couldn’t take Chaumont in a hundred years if the House of Burgundy couldn’t take it in their days. So, most probably they are besieged, and we’ll have to lift the siege.” Peter said.
”You haven’t seen these cannons at work, have you… I’ve heard of their power when used together as a single point… Frederick saw them at work with the Hungarians against Venice.”
Peter froze. ”I heard of Venice… Why did the Count Palatine participate in this?”
”My husband’s actions were noble, Peter, and his motives aren’t of anyone’s concern.” she said, hiding her anger. As she said these words, a man entered the room and bowed deeply.
”Lords and Majesties, you have asked for me?” the old man asked.
Amédée smiled. ”Ah, yes, Rolin. Do you have news for us?”
Nicholas Rolin was chancellor under the dukes of Burgundy. He wasn’t favoured by the Directoire at the time of Marie’s succession to the throne. He was asked to serve under the House of Savoie as a diplomat and spy.
”Yes, your lordships. Early reports confirm the taking of Chaumont… “Taking” might not be the best of words… I’d rather say destruction…” Rolin said, waiting for a response. ”Pierre d’Amboise and his family are believed to have died in the attack… only a few men survived the assault, and they’ve all seen the king fighting to the end.”
”I’ve also heard that the passage to Piemonte is closed now… too much snow. The only way to go would be through the south ranges, or by sea to move troops.”
Éléanore looked to Amédée. ”Then perhaps she is dead…”
”And perhaps she is not. And frankly, it would be easier if she wasn’t…” Amédée blurted out.
Peter agreed. ”Yes, indeed. If she was dead, as well as her daughter, then we would face the possibility of external involvement… While the troops of the League of Arras are in the south, no one is defending Holland. If I were the duke of Gelre…”
Amédée added ”And this is just with troops… loosing a piece of land is one thing, but we stand here with the possibility of loosing the crown of Lotharingia, as well as most of our titles. Some of our lands are of French appanage, and thus are protected from the King of France as long as the line of Berry isn’t extinct…. If it dies out, then we’re done for.”
”Well, there are still members left in that line…” Éléanore said. ”I’m still here… and you, Amédée, as well…” She smiled at Peter. ”And I have many children, and Amédée has a daughter as well…”
Nicholas Rolin looked at the three nobles. ”If I may, my Lords. I have studied the claims of the throne of Lotharingia… Your Grace Amédée, your father has known her Majesty Marie de Berry for a very long time, hasn't he… they had letters together, and and kind friendship even at one point. Has he ever talked of her marriage with the Bourbon, especially about Louis de Montpensier?
”Not about Louis in particular… he did talk about her marriage though. But she did not reveal much of her personal life…” Amédée pointed out.
”Did she ever talk about her appreciation of the Duke of Bourbon?” asked Rolin.
”A man of poor taste and ill manners, as I recall my father relating it to me.”
”Did she appreciate the time passed with the Duke?” Rolin continued.
”From the missives my father received, I remember that she was sending most of her letters from Montferrant, not from Moulin.” Amédée answered.
”Does it seem to your Grace odd that Her Majesty would have so many children with a man she barely saw at all?” asked Rolin.
”Are you saying, monsieur Rolin, that my mother LIED?” Éléanore asked, in fury.
”Your Majesty, I am not stating that she lied. I am stating that she never spoke about it, and that Duke Jean de Bourbon wasn’t called “Le Lascif” for nothing…” pointed out Rolin.
”Your Grace, are you aware of a woman called Isabeau de Joly?” asked Rolin to Amédée.
”Vaguely… she was the daughter of the Seigneur de Joly… she died recently. Marie de Berry told my father about her, for she was a member in the court of the duke of Bourbon.” Amédée answered.
”Did you know that Charles of Bourbon inherited the Seigneurie of Joly at the death of Lady Isabeau?” asked Rolin.
”I wasn’t aware of it… were they related?” asked Amédée.
Peter understood where Rolin was leading Amédée. ”She is the real mother of Charles de Bourbon…” ”Precisely, your Grace. Isabeau de Joly, sole daughter of the Seigneur de Joly, admitted in her will that Charles de Bourbon was to inherit all of the lands of her father upon her death.” Rolin said.
Éléanore shook her head. ”This is ridiculous… we all know that the Duke of Bourbon was married to my mother…”
”But did she ever claim, Your Majesty, at any point in time, that she gave birth to his husband’s sons?” asked Rolin.
”She didn’t need to… everybody knew it!” shouted Éléanore.
”So, your Majesty, you are telling me the lustful duke of Bourbon who barely ever saw the Duchesse of Auvergne, had a children with her nonetheless, and that Lady Isabeau de Joly, ever present at the court of the duke of Bourbon, decided to give her domains to the sons of the Duke of Bourbon out of cheer generosity?” said Rolin, with sarcasm.
Amédée noted a word in the sentence. ”Sons?”
Rolin smiled. He did notice… he thought to himself. ”She used the word “Line of the House of Bourbon” in her will. In the French circles, everyone knows this means she claims motherhood for all the 3 sons of the Duke.”
”I don’t believe it… I gave my crown to an illegitimate heir…” Éléanore said, frozen in place by what she had just learned. ”I called him my brother…”
”Rather your cousin, your Majesty. King Louis was your far cousin from the Bourbon line, that’s all.” Rolin pointed out.
”Then I’m queen?” she asked.
”Philippe is King,” corrected Rolin.
”And beside, this is all too obscure, Rolin, and in the end, we still need the Queen and her child. They’re still the key to Piemonte, and no one knows of all your story. There needs to be legitimacy and appearance of legitimacy. If one of both are missing, this war will go on forever. Hence the need to protect the Queen and her child…” admitted Amédée.
”The Duke is right… no one will believe that at first… And yet, knowing this, it would mean that we’re fighting the real king of Lotharingia right now…” said Peter.
”Hence why we must not tell anyone…” Amédée said.
Éléanore didn’t understand where Amédée was leading. ”This is ridiculous. Here we are, protecting a wannabe Queen and her brats, against a man who could possibly be the legitimate King of Lotharingia!”
”Yes, we are… and how will we look if we tell them all of this story? There’s thousands of reasons why the Duke of Bourbon inherited the lands of Joly. And frankly, why didn’t the Duke of Bourbon also inherit the crown of Lotharingia?” Amédée asked.
”There’s too many questions, and frankly, we all know how bad this land will be with the League of Arras. We saw Nevers… and we know all too well the vision of Artois….” Amédée said.
”And yet we're defending a man who emprisonned the Maid of Lorraine.” Peter said. ”This is confusing… what are we fighting for anyways?”
Éléanore looked to Amédée and Peter. ”Chaumont is taken anyways at this point. There’s no need to deploy any troops in this weather… I… I need to meet with my brother. I need to talk to him. Before the Directoire…”
Amédée didn’t oppose it. ”If you must, you are free to go. I can have guards to accompany you. I’ll redeploy my troops to be on the lookout for any survivors coming in from Chaumont and Dijon. Perhaps, with some chance, we’ll even find the Queen if she hasn’t crossed to Piemonte yet.”
