There's nothing more relaxing than fitting an arrow to a bow, taking aim, and shooting at a target some yards away. The red recurve I spend all afternoon shooting with is one I got for a high school graduation present and it's among my most cherished possessions.
I love to fish and I love to shoot target archery, but hunting's never appealed to me, either bow or gun. There's just something about seeing a dead deer, pheasant, bear, moose, whatever that's sad in a way that a dead fish isn't.
I'm once again calm and my anxieties over Melody diminish by four, after taking a break at noon for lunch at this terrific hamburger joint not far from the sports club where I shoot.
By Wednesday, I smile faintly and give Melody an upnod as I walk into class three minutes before Morengay starts his lecture. She cooly nods back, which is more recognition than she gives anyone else but Morengay. I've heard some of the other students make snide remarks about her being a suckup, but it just goes to show ignorant they are.
Which only makes sense. I mean hell, half of them are freshmen and the rest of them are still in that stage where they're figuring out life and themselves. It's not like high school, where your world, even if it sucks, is neatly defined, with expectations and boundaries that you recognize and oddly enjoy, even as you protest them.
College, and life's unlimited freedoms and accompanying responsibilities upend everything, especially if you've been given everything and had everything done for you. I'm not putting Melody in that category, by the way. She strikes me as pretty damn independent. It's the dependent ones that really have the bottom drop out on them.
Morengay clears his throat and I drift out of my quiet, curious philosophical thinking to listen.
"Wholesale revolts, a really bad campaign, and a King who thought himself the next Jesus is where we left off of last time.
In spite of the revolts and the rebellion in Palermo, the Kingdom of Italy-Croatia was not the only one suffering from realm-wide war weariness. Apuila, too, tired of fighting to the point that in mid-September, Duke Henry de Hauteville offered to give up his claim on Messina and pay King Yves I 2,845 florins in order to end the war.
The Bolognan court, recovering from the end of the city revolt a week before, strongly urged Yves to accept the deal, which was not only extraordinarily fair, but would've allowed the mad monarch to save face before Europe.
But Yves refused, countering with a demand for the ducal title of Apuila.
And so the war continued.
In November, Boruhav Premyslid, the Steward, who had taken command of the main Italian-Croatian army, won a resounding victory over a massed Apuilian army that gave hope for the war's eventual end on Yves's terms, for the king had repeatedly refused that earlier peace offer which the Duke of Apuila made again and again, hoping to make the de Semur lord see reason.
Countering this good news was an army of 900 peasants who rose up under the banner of a country priest to storm Louis Castle, which really was its rightful name, and begin open and armed rebellion. With the royal regiment in the field and the vassal armies of Firenze and the Duke of Calabria already abroad as well, Yves could not risk angering his vassals any more than they already were by ordering a regiment to Bologna.
November 19th, two weeks after the Premyslid-led victory, the main armies were crushed by Duke Henry, but on the bright side, the Apuilian forces were greatly fatigued, their morale hit hard by this seeming never-ending war that prolonged itself only because of Yves's fanaticism.
As if this wasn't bad enough, a little over a month later, the Duke of Karten, enraged at his liege's bullheadedness in the Apuila campaign, declared indepedence against King Yves I and went to arms to both defend his right to the Duchy and to win some territory that he had legal claim to."
Morengay paused to put a picture up on his overhead.
"Duke Almerich von Zahringen intended on annexing Messina, Palermo, Modena and Chalons. If he succeeded in his aims, he would own not only all the de Semur royal possessions on Sicily, the rest in Italy-Croatia vassal hands, but he would have both the ancestral de Semur home and one of the de Semur Four.
Messina would not have been too terrible a loss, but Palermo was the capital of the dual kingdom's south region, Chalons, though poor, was of symbolic importance, and I don't need to tell you how bad it'd be to have an enemy right next to your rebelling capital.
Despite these calamities, the tide was turning by March 1127. Another important victory by the Premyslid steward that imperiled Apuila's chances of ever raising enough troops to win the war, combined with Yves I's most loyal vassal, the Governor of Genoa, pledging 3,300 republican troops to fight the Duke of Karten in the northern theatre, meant that total victory looked within reach after all.
At the happy Genoan intelligence, not even the most anti-Yves citizen could be too discouraged with news of rebellion in Messina, especially not since the Bolognan insurrection was put down by an elite squad of just 180 soldiers from Lombardia.
And indeed, the war did turn in Yves's favor, so much so that by August of 1127, Duke Henry de Hauteville's territory was entirely under Italian-Croatian hands and with many a tears, the Norman who loved south Italy more than anything in the world, surrendered his title of Duke of Apuila to a triumphant King Yves I. Henry then with heavy heart moved his capital from Apuila to Salerno, which according to feudal law at the time was where he had to live as he was still Duke of Salerno, even though he still owned his beloved Apuila county.
This victory not only signified a remarkable turnaround for the embattled king, but it raised the stature of both the Jimenez and Premyslid houses, thus ensuring that neither faction would be yet the winner in their feud, even though as I said, they were beginning to unite on the idea of Yves's ouster.
After this stunning military success, Yves returned to Bologna to celebrate and proclaim his victories to the masses from the parapets of Louis Castle, for by this time, the clergy was so active against him, he dared not set foot in a church.
The remaining regiments were given no rest, bur ordered north to deal with the rebellious Duke of Karten.
Tragically, just two days after the peace treaty with Apuila, Diocese Bishop Pedro Jimenez, who saw the de Semurs take part of the Middle East and who witnessed the near unification of Italy, died without ever having returned to his beloved Iberia, which was now overrun by the Emirate of Sevilla.
His last words were, "Though I never saw again my beautiful Navarra, I die knowing I go to God and that while I was in this world, I helped direct the minds of kings to fighting for Christian freedom in the holy land."
The greatly beloved bishop was replaced by Yves I's nephew, 23 year old Fadrique de Semur, a young and impassioned cleric who revered his old mentor and counted himself among the Jimenez faction in terms of the main court intrigues.
To balance the anger from the Premyslid faction, Yves married Elionare de Semur, who had just turned 16, to an extremely talented young Premyslid who had also just reached the age of majority. Even though he was insane and a terribly inept military commander and administrator, King Yves I knew how to keep the factionalism in his court from overwhelming his rule.
The Karten problem was not the only war that Yves was dealing with towards the end of 1127. Messina again rebelled and the Duke of Jaffa-Ascalon in the Middle East was attacked by the Kingdom of Egypt, leading Yves to declare war once more on that diminished, but still dangerous foe.
The dual kingdoms, having gotten through one crisis, were now in the throes of another, for Egypt was strong enough to give Italy-Croatia difficulty, to the degree that the de Semur presence in the region was threatened.
This would've made Pedro Jimenez roll in his grave.
We'll stop there and pick up next time with these two set of wars."
I can't help but admire Yves. Everybody hates him and he's a lunatic, but he's evidently fox-crazy because he keeps right on winning and right on beating out everyone who wants to get rid of him.
But how long can his luck hold up? Oh, sure I know it's history and everything, but to me it's like a story I'm hearing a chapter at a time.
Melody walks over to me on her way out and slips a note in my hand, saying, "I've an appointment to keep, so I can't talk. Read this when you get a chance."
Before I can answer, she's briskly turned around and swiftly heading off the other way.
I won't open it just yet. I skipped breakfast this morning because I slept a little late.
I'll read it on a full stomach.