Rumors

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It was an early morning when King João recived the letter from the Roman Emperor.

"Ha! Finally I'll get to push these Algerians into the mud."

Tertane looked at him with sad eyes.

"Sir, no, don't do it. Don't let our people suffer in another war. I thought you had become a peaceloving King. When you meda a peace agreement between the Major powers of Iberia."

"Nonsens, nonsens Tertane. Why do you think I made that peace. Because I didn't want war?, Ha, don't you know me. I needed that peace to be able to concentrate on the Muslims. I knew this was coming. The Roman Emperor had contacted me."

"Oh, sir you disappoint me."

"Don't talk nonsens Tertane. Send our the war declaration on Algeria, we will take some African Provinses."

A hugh smile was seen in the King's face when Tertane went out to send the letter to the Algerian Sultan.

 

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Days have passed since the last news from the front, but the Count of Egmont has again made great progress, the city of Nijmegen was recently captured by the Southren Army strenghtened by Burgundian volunteers from Zeeland and Holland. In the North the capital Arnhem was captured, altough this happened with great difficulty due to the barbaric Frisians who came to help Waldemar and his henchmen. Now most of Gelre is in the hands of the Count of Egmont, only small parts in the east, mainly the County of Zutphen remain in the hands of Waldemar, recently strenghtened thanks to the arrival of his Frisian ally. Both armies are preparing to collide soon, the Count of Egmont has the disposal of many poor volunteers from Gelre, Limburg, Zeeland and Holland. He is also supported by the merchant guild who are donating loads of money to the war cause. The Archbishops of Utrecht and Maastricht have praised the cause of the Count of Egmont who will need this to train and equip the many volunteers to let them become true soldiers who can handle the Blue army. Waldemar on the contrary has received help from the nobles who want more influence in the governement politics once again. The national army strenghtened by forces of the Count of Friesland has also chosen the side of Waldemar. The Count of Egmont has a large army of bad-equppied and trained volunteers. Waldemar has a rather small army of demoralized but well trained and well equpped army of professional soldiers. The battle that will come will probablly decide who rules Gelre.

 

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A letter arrives at the Abbeys of the Teutonic Order in Gelre.
The Abbey of Mühlenfeld,Höneppel,Wissel,Grieth and Kalkar.

it reads.
" Hereby your ordered to support Willem in the final struggle, send as many men you can to guard him, and leave a small force to protect our abbeys.
Signed
Michel von Sternburg

 

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Battle of Mühlenfeld am Rhein

It was a cold day in march, the 29th March of the year 1419. A small town near the Rhine will soon be the theater of an important battle. A battle between Count Willem of Egmont, leader of the Orangist army, and Waldemar the Mad, recently awarded with the title Count of Zutphen and commander of the Army of the Blue's. Both fought for the title of Duke of Gelre, and the priviliges that were attached to it. Waldemar had an army of well-trained and armed soldiers, recently strengthened with soldiers from the army of the Stadholder of Friesland. Willem on the contrary had to do with volunteers from Gelre and beyond, he was however strengthened with Burgundian soldiers, English longbowmen and Teutonic Knights. The battle started when a group of light cavalry of Waldemar met the army of Willem near a bridge over the Rhine, most of the light cavalry was slaughtered but some of them could escape to warn Waldemars main army. Waldemar decided to send all of his men to the battlefield and defeat Willem once and for all. After a long march they arrived at the site the next morning, Waldemar who tought he could gain a quick and easy victory quickly sent all of his heavy cavalry to charge upon the non-suspecting volunteers. Hundreds where slaughtered but most could regroup in the nearby forrest. Waldemars forces tought they were victorious, they were surprised when in the afternoon an immense army appeared. The English longbowmen started to fire at the enemy forces, trapped in a rain of arrows Waldemar decided to do a full charge with his heavy cavalry once again. But the horses got stuck in the mud, the light armed volunteers charged upon the trapped knights and slaughtered them one by one. No mercy was granted, Waldemar and a few of his henchmen tried to run away but some Teutonic Knights were able to capture them all. Quickly the news spread all over the land that Waldemar was defeated and Willem would become the new duke. Later it became clear that French forces were en route to support Waldemar, ith their help he would've probablly won.

 

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As the Grandmaster crested the hill, he looked out onto the city of Bern in front of him. Sitting in the middle of an island, with only one bridge out and back, it was as much a fortress as you could get. Walls formed extensions of the steep edges of the cliffs on all sides of the island. It was, in short, a perfect fortress.
Coming down the hill into the valley in which the lake was situated, the noise of the city started to carry to the Grandmaster and the 50-odd-knight entourage he had with him. They had been spotted from the walls and the word rushed through the city to the Chairman.
“Come quickly,” his guard said, “The Knights approach.”
By now people were covering the walls watching the knights come closer in the distance.
“Come on boys,” The Grandmaster called to his knights, “Lets put on a bit of a show for them.”
Rushing their horses into a gallop the knights came towards the city at a ferocious speed. From the walls it was a truly awesome sight. Riding across the bridge, the hooves of the horses clattered on the stone and all through the streets of Bern they could be heard as they approached. Stopping before the house of Parliament they dismounted, and the Chairman came out to greet them.
“Noble Grandmaster, knights. You must be weary after your ride. Come inside and let me show you the best hospitality Switzerland can offer. Rest now, these grooms will take your horses. Tonight we will feast!”
And so the Grandmaster and his knights entered behind the Chairman, their stay in Helvetica was sure to be entertaining.

 

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The Civil War has ended... or hasn't it?

It was a sunny and bright day in spring when Count Willem of Egmont would be crowned Duke of Gelre by the Archbishop of Utrecht in the new capital Utrecht. The city was guarded by soldiers to keep order and peace amongst the thousands of travellers from abroad who wanted to see the coronation ceremony. There were visitors from all over the world, from all over the Netherlands, from Flanders, from England, from France, Germany, Italy and Spain. Even Scandinavians, Poles, Russians and Arabs were there. It would be a great ceremony, all were happy that it had ended this way, all things seemed perfect, even the news that some Blues escaped couldn't spoil the festivity mood. Justice had won, and that was the most important. The English, Burgundian and Teutonic allies stayed during the coronation. Then the Coronation started, the church was so silent that all could hear a mouse walk. Then the Archbishop said the Holy Words: "In the name of the Lord, His Son and the Holy Spirit; will you, Wilhelmus of Egmont, etcetera ,etcetera, accept the title of Duke of Gelre, and will you defend your servants in the way the Holy Book describes this? Will you swear this on the Bible?" Yes I will, Willem answered, without even blinking an eye. "Then you, Wilhelmus of Egmont are from now on..." BANG!!! The door flew open, about thirty men stormed inside the church, Willem's friends tried to take thir swords and fight the intruders, but they kept coming and overmastered all and captured Willem. Then a dark man walked in and asked with a heavy voice: "Is all prepared?" Yes, Master, one of the vilains responded. "Who are you, you filthy rat, how dare you intrude this most Holy Place?" the Archbishop asked. His Guard slapped him in the face, shut up you fatso and be a little polite to my Master. Let him go, Rufus, the mysterious man said, he is of no use to us. I need Willem, that's all! Willem tried to fight his guards but was captured again, let me go you Child of Satan! You Beëzelbub! You'll pay for this, I swear you! Who are you, you coward! Then the man walked towards Willem and threw of his cape. Was it...? Coould it be? But he was dead! Didn't expect to see old Waldemar here, did you? You tought I was dead didn't you? But I'm back! This Duchy belongs to me! Freddy, he said to the Archbishop, crown, me, now! Or you'll be sorry! But.. but that's blasphemy the poor man said. So? he responded. I won't do it, he said again. Then your precious Willem will die, and I'll find another nutcase like you to crown me! "Stop it right now,"Willem yelled",you know you can't escape this church alive Waldemar, my army will vanish you in a blink of an eye!" Think so? Those non-suspecting nitwits are drunk or asleep, and my army will take care of them! I've got thousands of men, mercenaries coming from Friesland, not only Frisians, but also recently arrived Frenchies! They'll take over all of Gelre in no-time! Hahahahaahaaah! This is your last day Willem, as a matter of fact I'll kill you right now! He put his sword and the air, ready to chop Willem's head of. "Swoosh" a blade thrusted. Had Willem been killed? Luckily not, it was the sword of one of the Teutonic Knights, then Waldemar was laying on the ground, unarmed. Men, get him! he shouted, but from behind the altar many more of them appeared, they were outnumbered with 1 to 5 but they fought like lions, they were almost totally defeaten when English longbowmen appeared above them. Now they hhad the advantage! Waldemar tried to run away and escaped out of the church. Willem and his friends were freed. Willem was looking quite surprised when he saw the longbowmen and Teutonic Knights just stand there. After them! Don't let them get away he shouted. The leader of the Knights said that they allready took care of that problem. How then, he asked. You'll see, he said. Then they heard horses outside ,was this Waldemar's army? Willem went to see and saw the Burgundian horsemen, with Waldemar and his henchmen between them, captured. How did you know? Willem questioned. We knew it all along, he said. We directly saw that Waldemar had managed to escape, we didn't want to see everybody panicking so we decided to warn the English and Burgundians too. The only thing we didn't know was were Waldemar's army would come from, so we waited until he'd reveal that, and he just did. We'll send messengers to those merchants that their leader was captured and they can return home now. Thanks alot for your help, oh valiant foreigners, I all invite you to come to Gelre whenever you want to. You saved my life and my duchy. I hope you'll attend the end of the coronation. Take the prisoners away, I'll see what to do with them soon! So, where were we, dear Archbishop? Hmmm..., Oh yeah, I hereby declare you Wilhelmus of Egmont, with the power God granted to me, I declare you as Duke Wilhelmus II of Gelre and all that is connected to that title. Amen! For the next days all of Gelre was partying, but soon, more grave matters would be dealt with. What to do with the prisoners for example? And what to do with the allies of Waldemar?

 

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False King of France,

It is apparent that you still doubt my legitamacy as King of France. Therefore, I offer you a copy of the original document, as sent by Edward III, King of England and France which clearly discredits your false claim.

Milords:


We here set forth the genealogy of the Kings of France and why we, Edward III claim justly, and why Philippe VI claim unjustly the Throne of France.


The Valois Family Tree


Good Philippe III, of the House of Capet, King of France, had three sons. And on his death the throne passed to his eldest son, Philippe IV.


Philippe IV having issue, at his death the throne passed not to his younger brothers but to this issue, and the branch of the Capetian tree from which springs our current Philippe was then passed over.


This issue of Philippe IV included three sons, and each ruled in turn (as well, briefly, as the son of the eldest, who though crowned as Infant King died before the end of his first year of life). These brothers were Louis X, Philip V and Charles IV. And now, all Philippe IV's sons have died, and none of these sons have left him a living grandson.


But Philippe IV had also a daughter, and this daughter, Isabella , has issue via Charles of Valois. And this son of hers is the only living grandson of Philippe IV, and the sister of France's last previous Capetian king and this son is the only living nephew of his three sons, three Kings of France. And this daughter of Philippe IV Capet is our own mother and this son of hers, grandson of Philippe and Capetian heir is OURSELF, EDWARD III PLANTAGENET.


But why should Philippe VI claim that now this vital trunk of the Capetian Tree, which produced in our grandfather, our uncles, and our cousin the last five kings of France be now disregarded? And why should he claim that the throne should pass not directly to us through our mother, but back through several generations and younger sons to that long bypassed twig of which he is the meager fruit?


He calls upon the ancient "Salic Law" of King Pharamond.


Salic Law


"In terram Salicam muliers ne succedant"

(In Salic lands no woman shall inherit)


This "law Salique" to which Philippe appeals has no bearing on our claim of France for five reasons:


1)This law is not written for France, but for lands outside France's borders. The Land Salique lies not in France, but between the rivers Sala and Elbe, in the German Province of Meisen. Our claim is for the throne of France. If Philippe's claim be based upon this law he be at most, the baron of a small forested waste along the Elbe, to which he is welcome.


2) This law was written not for France, but for the Barbarous Frankish Kingdom which preceeded France. Pharamond, author of the law, died in the year of our Saviour 426 (342 Years before the reign of Charlemagne). This law is irrelevant to the Kingdom of France, being written by another government, before the Monarchy of France which we claim was ever founded. Consider Philippe's reasoning: He tries to bar us by a law written before France existed for a land outside France's borders. If a man steals a cow this day in Kent, Our English courts would not let him justify theft by appeal to a tribal law of fifth century Norway.


3) This law was written for pagan lands. Salic law was written by King Pharamond when this part of Germany was only partially Christianized, to protect Christian colonists who married local woman with pagan leanings. We hold that in Christian lands such law, based upon pagan lands and considerations, holds not. We, as a Christian King, hold rather that our Law should be based on God's Will as he revealed it to us in the Book of Numbers of His Holy Scripture: "When the man dies, let the inheritance descend unto the daughter."


4) This law, were it to apply to the Throne of France (which it does not), would disbar not only ourself, but Philippe equally as well, and all Kings of France for the last 600 years! Many times previously the throne of France has passed through the female line. Hugh Capet and Pepin III (the Short) did so inherit, as just two examples. Recall that Pepin's rule in these circumstances was confirmed by the Pope, Zacharias, and that Pepin's son who succeeded him, Charlemagne, is considered at least by most (though apparently not Philippe) to be a true French Monarch, and not a usurper. Does Philippe want to tell us that Pope Zacharias erred and that he, Philippe is of greater authority in such matters than the Pope? Does Philippe really mean to tell us Charlemagne was never in truth a French King? We differ from him in this and we do claim Charlemagne as our ancestor. Further, this line of reasoning would lead to the discreditation of every succeeding monarch since Charlemagne's father, and the crowning of some unknown Chur who squats in his hovel, distantly but unknowingly related through some preposterous chain of distant male cousins and uncles! Louis IX, that holy King of France, was canonized by Holy Mother the Church as one of her revered Saints. This means the Church (which we, Edward, hold to be guided constantly by the Holy Spirit and thus incapable of Error in the instruction of the Faithful) did duly and formally investigate every aspect of his life, and by canonization did declare his life to be a model on which the faithful should pattern their own lives to insure the salvation of their souls. Yet the Sainted Louis, like all of us, was concerned about the justice of his claim to the throne. He did investigate the Justice of his claim, since certain of his ancestors had inherited through the woman, and since he, a Holy man, wished at all cost to avoid any sin including that of usurpation. And Louis did satisfy himself that his claim and his Rule were Just. If Philippe VI wishes us to believe it usurpation to claim the throne of France through the Female Line, then he not only calls Saint Louis a usurper, but must also claim the Church has erred in holding Louis up as a Sainted Example of a Christian Monarch.


5) The French themselves do not believe this law. In land disputes within France, nobles renowned for their knowledge of heraldry and geneanlogy, do proudly point to their female lineage as proof of their right to title in these very lands.


In Summary:


One must either hold that Our claim of France is Just, or hold with Philippe's reasoning. But to hold with Philippe one must also:


a) Feel that the Kingship of France is not a Mighty Honor and Responsibility which like a flooding river should come straight to us through our mother, but rather a tiny meandering brook which wanders back through generations and bypasses second sons to "trickle down" to Philippe.


b) Appeal to the Laws of a time and place which are not France.


c) Favor Laws of Pagan Lands over Laws based upon God's Word Revealed to Us.


d) Discredit not only our claim but also that of Philippe, Charlemagne and his father Pepin, and many other Kings of France as well, not the least of which is the Sainted King Louis.


e) Deny the authority of noted French nobles in matters of genealogy when they have testified in formal court proceedings denying the existence of any such bar.


Thus we, Edward III Plantagenet, having diligently and thoughtfully put forth our claim, do rightfully claim that Throne of France which is ours from our Valois mother, her father, her brothers and her nephew, the last Five Kings of France.


By my Hand at Westminster-

|, EDWARD III PLANTAGENET,
BY THE GRACE OF GOD,
KING OF ENGLAND,FRANCE,IRELAND AND WALES

As stated above, your denial to my rightful crown is unjust and false. I demand that you cease your rebellion against your rightful King.

By his own hand at Rouen,

 

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Henry returns to his Royal Pavillion. The Invasion Army's ranks had swelled since the original raid on the Port of Harfleur. He had just received word of the so called Prince's response from his brother John at Westminster. "Thomas[Henry's younger brother], read this. Do you see any refute to any of the five points made of our Claim? What tripe! Since Charles cannot refute my claims, as stated by Edward III, line by line, then let it be known that the French who follow this pretender to the throne will be treated as mere rebels. If I am not King of France because of lineage through a female, then none of the French Kings have been legitimate for 600 years!"

"Indeed brother," Thomas casually removes his scabbard as he and Henry sit. The young page sets roasted foul and drink before both before bowing and standing to the side ready to refill glasses. "The men look well, as the lastest of the Yeomen have arrived from Lancaster yesterday morn. All should be well for the upcoming battle. A little different than the Welsh rebellion, eh?"

"Ha, indeed! The Welsh had more stomach for battle! What was I, sixteen years of age then? O ho, those Gaelic bastards could fight! I recall several times our heavy infantry would be nearly destroyed by those axe wielding demons! Ah, the new strongholds will keep them from a repeat of those days again. Now where were we, oh yes, the preparations. You, boy! Pour us more wine, then tell Sir Thomas Erpyngham to assemble my generals in one hour. We have some last minute changes to our plans."

 

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Greek envoys arrive in Rome...

A troupe of Greek emissaries arrives in the Eternal City with a gifts for the Bishop of Rome from His All Holiness, the Patriarch of Constantinople, as well as a very important sealed letter. As they attempt to cross the threshold into the gates of the Vatican, the Swiss Guards raise their halberds to block further entry. The leader, a older native from Mistra, steps forward to request entry. In flawless Latin, he says, "Excuse us good sirs, but we have gifts and a sealed letter from Joseph, Patriarch of Constantinople to the next sucessor of St. Peter, may God shine upon him and make long his Pontificate. We require an audience with the Bishop of Rome, so that we may make His All Holiness's case."

The vigilant defenders of the Pope say not a word.

The Greek is not to be dissuaded from his appointed mission. "My freinds, we must have entry to the Vatican. His All Holiness will consider it a grave insult should my brothers and I return to Constantinople without even being allowed to see the new Bishop of Rome!"

At that moment a Dominican friar happened to be passing by. He looked at the argument the schismatic Greek was having with the bodyguards of His Holiness and decided to try to be of some use.

With his Latin accented with his native Italian, the Dominican greeted the envoy, "What troubles you, good Greek?"

The swarthy Greek turned away from the Swiss Guards and looked over the Dominican. "These gentlemen here refuse me entry, kind friar."

The Dominican smiled a bit. "Of course. The elections for His Holiness are still in dispute." The friar leaned closer to the envoy, "And besides, I doubt these gentlemen here would allow a schismatic to enter the residence of His Holiness, no matter how well intentioned."

The Greek chukled a bit. "Good sir, that is part of the reason why I am here. Now, since the elections are still proceeding, could you kindly direct me to some fine apartments? I intend to relay the election results to His All Holiness with all possible speed, as the Patriarch is most interested in who will become the next Bishop of Rome. His All Holiness has noted that with the return of the legal powers of St. Peter to Rome from Pisa and Avignon, he has sent my brothers to help heal the schism between the two halves of Christendom." He says a short prayer and glances at the Swiss Guards.

"Although it shall be difficult with these gentle brutes in our way, good friar," the Greek added.

"Fear not," the Dominican said. "There are some fine residences here in Rome which may satisfy you safety and comfort while you wait for the new crowning of His Holiness. You may then, with His blessing, make your case. God with God, my freinds."

 

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Doge John I Grimaldi had barely returned home to Genova when he ordered the construction of new galleys to supplement his already massive navy. More infantry and cavalry drills were implemented on his expert army. He would give the Mamelukes one month to respond to his demands before warring with them. John I now walked along the largest of the docks in Genova. Chancellor Valentino Pagliuca walks beside him to inform him of the recent developments.

Valentino rubs his bald head and stretches his heavily muscled arms. He stands nearly a foot taller than John I, who is tall himself.

"Well, John, the fools north of us continue to blunder. The Burgundians kill a swiss messenger and both nations continue to hurl insults at each other. The Emperor, of course, seems to side with the Burgundians and another war is a brewing. Savoy has joined the great war between France and England, the fools. Savoy may also feel the cold steel Burgundy has to offer. Not much else in the north.

In the south, the Mamelukes still have not responded, but only a couple weeks have passed since the message arrived in their court, for all we know, their answer could be on its way, though I doubt it could get to Genoa without our merchants spotting the vessel. I have a feeling war will ensue between us and the Mamelukes, and of course, everyone wants gold to fuel their own wars with the heathens.

In the east, it appears that some form of peace has come between the Venetians and the Ottomans. The details are sketchy and it could be weeks before we find out what happened, as the Venetians have not done any combat with the Turks yet.

In the west, the Portugese and the Castillians have signed a 5-year non-aggression pact, just to stall the imminent war there. I fear our ally Aragon may be involved in that war and we may be drawn in.

That is all of the news, except for our military news, which you already know about." Valentino takes a deep breath and awaits his Doge's response.

John I waits for an awkward amount of time before speaking.

"The Burgundians, the Swiss, and the Savoians are all foolish. Savoy sends their soldiers to fight in a war where to many christians have died at other christian blades. That war is an unholy war that will be punished by God, with more deaths of their children. Savoy will probably be swallowed up by Burgundy and Burgundy will leave this war a weak and tattered duchy. As for the Swiss and Burgundian conflict, I pray that the Emperor will be wise and not let his lust for the swiss lands to have him support either side. They are both wrong, but neither will accept it and war will surely break out there.

The Mamelukes will surely not cede Egypt to us and they will not convert, so we will have war. I don't know why I wait for them, probably to give my troop training and shipbuilding some time, so that I will send veterans to battle and not raw recruits. The Mameluke sabers are no match for Italian pikes and swords. Nonetheless, many good Genovese will fall in their deserts as the Mamelukes are many and their lands are treacherous.

This peace between Venice and the Ottomans can only be a good thing, if it even exists. For all we know, the Venetian armies may be battling the Ottoman janissaries and the whole treaty rumor may be just that, a rumor.

As for the Iberian conflict, that will be at least five years away, and that will most likely be my son's conflict. I doubt Aragon would join the war, and our alliance does not call for war with Christians. That I will not worry about now, for there is too much to worry about this year alone.

If that is all of the news, then I will go to the main barracks and try to raise my army's morale. Maybe a drink or two with the boys. Those were the good 'ole days, Valentino. I remember the two of us, leaders of the Genovese Corsican Garrison..."

The two walked off towards the barracks, reminiscing their war experiences, while the sun begins to set in the horizon. The galleys in the port now moving back to the dock, to fill up for the imminent war.

 

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Marriages in Naples

That beautiful day on March 6th, year of our Lord 1419. Two priests said those familiar words in Naples. One in Napoli, one in Taranto.

In Napoli,Princess Etna Laar of Serbia was joined in holy matramony with Erik of Naples, Count of Pristna and High commander of the Neapolitan naval forces.

In Taranto, Princess Raska Laar of Serbia, having just, converted to Roman Catholic faith was joined in Holy Matramony with Charles of Naples, High Commander of the army of Naples, High commander of Neapolitan land defense, and a Duke of Serbia.

 

[Martinus]

Seigneur Nicolas Rollin, Chancellier de Bourgogne and administrator of the Dijon Chateau during the Duke's absence, paced nervously through his spartan cabinet in the western wing of ducal donjon. It have been already several weeks with barely any news and rumours coming up from the battlefield. It was not the fate of his liege that worried him most, though. While the war counted among the most bloody and savage in the history of France, the young Duke was no weakling, and furthermore he had the Lion of Albion, probably the greatest military leader of his time, as his companion. Rather it was the situation of the Dijon court, ducal family and household that troubled him greatly.

He looked at a brief missive lying on the top of his desk. The uneven letters lining the parchment suggested that the epistle was penned in haste, perhaps even on a battlefield. It ended with a single letter, serving as a signature. The Chancellor's informant reported that the Dauphin, apparently weary of hiding in castles and fortresses, decided to move his army upon Dijon, thus hoping to force the Duke to withdraw from war.

The time was still young and he could order evacuation any minute. On the other hand, it was too early to verify the information. While he trusted his spy quite well, he knew also that the Dauphin was a cunning man, who could disperse false information to keep his opponents unaware of his real plans.

He came to the window and looked upon rolling hills of Burgundy, the vineyards spreading in every direction, young spring leaves already emerging on winter-torn bushes. He loved this land and hated to leave it behind. Yet the risk was too great.

When he turned from the window, the decision was already made.
The Chancellor called in his secretary and ordered him to inform the Duchess-Dowager and the whole court.

***

The Chancellor looked back at the Chateau Dijon, a place where he has spent larger part of his life. Unbeknownst to others, a small tear appeared briefly in his eye. He sighed heavily and turned towards their common destination, the estate of Archbishop of Besancon in Franche-Comte.

 

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The King is dead, long live the King!

Thomas, the second son of Henry IV, quickly returned to England with the body of his elder brother King Henry V, who was slain during the conquest of Paris. Thomas was overwhelm with contradicting emotions as he thought to himself:

On one hand it was the greatest day in English history, with an epic victory over the combined forces of French, Savoyards, and Danish mercenaries...and now he would be King; but at what price? His older brother, whom Thomas had always admired, no, idolized as a rolemodel lay dead, leading his forces in battle. A true warriors death! One that would live in writings for ages to come. This is the way Henry would have wished to die, but this was too soon! No son of Henry to take the Crown, so now it falls to me? I never wished to be King, but now I shall be! Yes, the new line of Lancaster shall become a legacy for the future of England, which shall improve France. Oh, dear brother, your dream shall become reality, but I shall put my stamp on it too.

The ship rocked slightly as it sailed quietly passed the famous white cliffs and slowly crept towards London. The funeral procession was somber as it moved toward the burial site at Westminster. The following day, Thomas was crowned by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Richard Bourchier at Westminster, which had the previous day seen such a black event, now the scene was different. The Coronation ceremony was as brilliant as ever, and the merry faces at Court astounded Thomas. My the difference one day makes. Last week, I was the Duke of Clarence, and today...today I am the future of England!

King Thomas of House Lancaster

 

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“So tell me,” Grandmaster Michael Von Sternburg asked as he walked with the Chairman through the streets of Bern, “How do you keep the bears so tame?”
Michael and a few of his fellow knights had been shown around Bern and the surrounding countryside for the past few days and his latest question was directed towards the Beren-Graben, a giant pit at the entrance to Bern in which many Bears, which were the symbol of Bern, were housed and fed.
“It’s quite simple really. We’ve had them here since they were born, and their parents before them, and their parents before them. The first bears were brought here a long time ago, to long ago for anyone to remember anyway.”
“But is it not cruel to keep them like that?” The Grandmaster asked.
“No, actually they’re probably better housed and fed than some of those that live in this city!” Michael and Rolph exchanged a private chuckle at this latest remark.
Over the past few days, Michael had seen a lot. From the giant Western City Gate to the Meunster, something which was at the moment mere foundations but which had plans to be one of the grandest cathedrals in all of Europe. The whole city had turned out a show for him. He learnt of Duke Berchtold V von Zähringen, the man who had founded the city and William Tell the national legend and hero of the Swiss. All was told to him and he took it in gladly.
Unfortunately the time came to leave and the Grandmaster lined up with his knights at the edge of the city where they were bid farewell by the Chairman and his personal entourage.
“Thankyou, Chairman Sigenstraussen. For showing me your city, I thoroughly enjoyed it.” The Grandmaster said as he was preparing to leave.
“There is no need to thank me. Your company was thanks enough and the tales you tell of the Baltic Sea make it sound as though it is a place I must visit sometime. But here is something to remember us by.” At this the Chairman motioned for two men to come forward bearing a chest. Opening the chest it revealed a handsome breastplate that sparkled as it hit the morning light. Underneath it lay the rest of a set of armour.
“We would be greatly honoured,” The Chairman asked, “If you would wear this armour when next you ride to battle against the infidel. It is made of the finest steel and it will protect you no matter what weapon of evil they may use.”
“I…I am very grateful to you, Sir Sigenstraussen. You have shown me the hospitality of your house and then you give me a gift like this. I will gratefully accept it and I promise to wear it always in battle. May the friendship between Switzerland and the Teutonic Order last forever.”
“Amen to that my friend, Amen to that.”
And so the Grandmaster turned and led his men North from the city. The people looked out from the walls and cheered and the Chairman smiled but was sad that this noble man already had to leave.

Approved by Mikael XII

 

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Counter Inflationary Measures

The Emperor of the Romans, Manuel II Paleologus, has made an economic decree across the Empire.

"All prices in the Roman Empire are frozen. They cannot be changed without the express permission of Roman authorities. The punishment for breaking this decree is that the offender will have molten lead poured down his throat. This decree applies to all merchants within the Empire, Greek, Italian, Jewish, Arabic, Armenian, Turkish or otherwise.

Furthermore, the Roman Bezant will no longer be used in circulation as it is impure. A new pure Nomisma will be issued. The Nomisma shall be of the same size and weight as the Bezant, but there it shall be 100% pure gold. Once again shall Roman coinage be respected throughout the land. The exchange rate shall be 5 Bezants to the Nomisma. There shall be 3 Romanian, Serbian, or Pontian coins to the Nomisma. There shall be 2 Venetian Ducats to the Nomisma. Any man caught within the boundries of the Empire using another rate shall have his his tongue cut out.

Finally, any foreign troops serving under the Roman banner may not spend money within the borders of the Empire without the express permission of their commander. The punishment for breaking this commandment shall be 10 lashes.

So has decreed the Emperor of the Romans, and so shall it be."

 

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The Long journey to Denmark
And so the long journey to Denmark begun.
Through the Duchy of Burgundy,Through Pfalz, the travellers would see Münster, Hannover, Bremen and Holstein.
It is indeed a long journey.
The First day the rode to the City of Freiburg, in Burgundian Province of Alsace where they rested.
At Freiburg, Michael von Sternburg saw Burgundian troops marching towards the front it seemed.
Michael von Sternburg enjoyed the well spokened Burgundian Hospitality, and perhaps he would meet the great duke of Burgundy...

 

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The Long journey to Denmark
And so the long journey to Denmark begun.
Through the Duchy of Burgundy,Through Pfalz, the travellers would see Münster, Hannover, Bremen and Holstein. And a small detour to Baden.
It is indeed a long journey.
The First day the rode to the City of Freiburg, in Burgundian Province of Alsace where they rested.
At Freiburg, Michael von Sternburg saw Burgundian troops marching towards the front it seemed.
Michael von Sternburg enjoyed the well spokened Burgundian Hospitality, and perhaps he would meet the great duke of Burgundy...

 

[Martinus]

Elegy for the Death of Henry

Prologue

Thee I am invoking, oh great Muse of Fire,
Not her who ruleth the Parnassus tranquil,
And guideth gleeful poets with Apollo's lyre,
But Thee who flyeth before Martial chariot,
And bringeth death to victors and shame to defeated.

Chanson I - The Review

In the foreground of Paris mighty armies converg'd,
Twelve times ten scores of English, sons of proud isle of Albion,
Four tens thousands Burgundians, clad in steel finest truly,
Hundred times hundr'd knights valiant, sent by Brabant, brave vassal.

We have seen gates of Paris, city finest and vilest,
Defiled by the foul Dragon, three-headed hydra the sinful,
who have lair found in city, with its breath truly poisonous,
spewing lies, threats and curses, as brave England approached.

Mighty legions the Devil called with his forked tongue most treach'rous,
One thousand hundred French barons, all of them brave and valiant,
Ten thousand of Danish henchmen, tempted with gold of fools lowest,
Three score this of Savoyards answering lure of the Beast vile.

In their safety apparent their mocked and taunted ou'r forces,
Unknowing that in Book of Heavens fate of their souls sealed already,
For by supporting usurper and traitor to his own kin,
They have accepted the deadly mark of Caine on their foreheads.

Chanson II - The Battle

Henry lead our forces, paragon of virtue truest,
Son of Saint George the Warrior, Lion of Albion mighty,
Heir to Richard L'nhearted, William Duke of Normandy,
Edward, Victor of Crecy - their blood sang in his veins.

He ascended a rostrum and spoke valour and virtues,
Moving our hearts deeply, be it yeoman's or Baron's,
And from lungs of all present a great cry raised to heavens,
Invoking God Almighty and Saint George the knight bloody.

Then we went into battle. Behold our great valour.
Mighty lion of Albion and proud lion, Burgundy.
Carried on wings of vengeance and the righteous wrath truly,
None could stand Saint George's valour 'th Andrew's power united.

Suddenly Henry staggered, his arm falling torpidly,
As I saw trech'rous arrow from his brave heart protruding,
Sent by hand of a demon; cried with grief have I truly,
As he falleth, like Roland, into slumber eternal.

Chanson III - The Aftermath

Wrath and just retribution entered the hearts of brave English,
Slaughtering hated 'nemy, mercy nor quarter's been given,
And soon dark angels of vengeance heralded fate of Parisiens,
Whose sons could've indeed envied ancient defenders of Troy.

The vilest wretch, Henry's slayer, worse even fate has been given,
His body foul's been dismembered and hanged on gallows disgraceful,
His soul committed to lowest echelons of Hell Eternal,
With Judas, Ganelon and Mordred as his only company.

Dauphin, the bastard most heinous, fled the city cowardly,
Hiding under guise shameful of wench lewd and licentious,
Thus he forfeited heritage of all worldly dignities,
But shame, disgrace and ashes, trust of spite and dishonour

Henry's body courageous laid on bed of French standards,
When a beam of sun brightest through clouds thickest protruded,
Surrounding his head valiant with a halo 'f saints worthy,
Thus has his soul truly entered Roland's and Arthur's company.

Epilogue

Thee I summon, Nemesis, the dark angel of vengeance,
Who filleth hearts of mortals with passions terrible,
That I shan't let my arm rest or my heart rest complacent,
Until for every and each tear that's shed for Henry,
A pint of blood's not drawn from the traitors' foul bodies.

Penned at Paris by Philippe, Duc de Bourgogne.

 

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Thomas sat in the throne as the reading of L'Elégie pour La Morte d'Henri rang throughout the Court. All the courtiers were astonishgly silent. An eery silence remained after the last line was read, an awkward silence hung in the air. The poor poet, arms still outstretched from his final delivered line began to perspire on his forehead. Thomas' expression did not change as he rose from his throne and walked briskly toward the poet whose stance was still frozen. Thomas suddenly stopped in front of the poet and stared for perhaps one or two minutes. The Courtiers still holding their breath had not budged a bit. Suddenly Thomas grabbed the Burgundian poet on both shoulders and quickly kissed each cheek. The courtiers exhaled a sigh of relief as Thomas kept one arm around his shoulders and led him back to the throne.

"Come good sir, pray read me the tale written by your master, the good Duke Philippe again..."

 

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A proclamation is sent to all cities and villages on the mediterranean, posted by the merchants of Genoa.

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

Embargo of the
Eastern Roman Empire

Doge John I Grimaldi of Genoa doth declare a formal economic and diplomatic ban upon the Empire of the Romans in the East.

The cause for this embargo are the following,

The Romans continue to sympathize with the heathen Mamelukes and have even sent military advisors to Egypt. They have yet to provide a believable reason.

The Romans have placed economic restrictions on the prices of goods throughout the Roman Empire, without consulting nations within the old borders of the Empire.

Therefore, Genoa dost close all ports and harbours to the Romans and will no longer trade with them. We shall see how long they last without spice, silk and commodoties of the Mediterranean.

Should the Romans continue their folly, Genoa will place more disciplinary measures upon them, up to a request of war from the Holy Roman Empire or war from Genoa itself.

So has decreed Doge John I, so shall it be.