Chapter 51: Heresy
“And here we go again…”
-Friedrich Augustin V
“Why me?!”
-The Chancellor
“Why??” shouted the former chancellor as he was led up to the gallows.
This was way too soon to have a funeral, a coronation, and an execution. They were in the middle of a costly war, and now Friedrich Augustin’s father happened to die. It was obvious that the
Augustiad was ending soon with the deaths of first his grandfather and now his father. He would likely be the fifth and final Kaiser named Friedrich Augustin. He wondered when the angels would come after him.
The noose was tightened around the man’s neck. The executioner pulled the level, and the man dropped limply through the platform.
“Let this be a warning to all those who commit high treason,” read the executioner.
Friedrich Augustin could have pardoned the chancellor, but people would think he was crazy. He could not explain that an angel did it for several reasons. First, everybody knew that angels were good guys, not murderous madmen bent on causing the Apocalypse. Second, Raphael had framed his father’s murder to make it look like the chancellor had done the deed. He could not argue against that. The chancellor was doomed to die from the moment his father died.
Friedrich Augustin retreated to his personal quarters, inherited from his father and passed down through the generations since the days of Saint Wilhelmina. He pulled out a decaying book with a pentagram on its cover. The book was old, very old. His grandfather had bought the book several decades ago out of curiosity. Yes, it was still a curiosity, but Friedrich Augustin wondered if he could find anything inside it useful.
He opened the book and flipped through it. Most of the writing was in Latin, which he could read and write adequately. It was the font, though, which stumped him. The font was so extravagantly embellished that the Latin might as well be, say, Mongol. Oh well, he thought, better get reading. If he was to determine what he was up against, he had to determine what was in this blasted book.
He began copying some notes down…
Meanwhile, the Malaya Expedition continued to enjoy success, as the Reich legions effortlessly crushed what was left of the Malaccan army and captured more and more forts.
Sometime later…
The doors to the throne room swung open, and two men wearing royal crowns and dressed in armor over ornate red and yellow robes stormed in, obviously angry with each other. One’s armor had a lion on it, and the other’s had an eagle on it. Friedrich Augustin knew both of them immediately as Viceroy-King Friedrich X von Habsburg of Lothringia and Viceroy-King Albrecht III Achilles von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen of Gallia.
“Speak,” said Friedrich Augustin, kicking the occult book under his throne, “I am quite busy right now, so please be fast.”
“Your majesty,” said Friedrich, “Albrecht here refuses to acknowledge that—”
“That what?!” interrupted Albrecht Achilles. “That he has the right to steal my wife?!”
“You stole my sister!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“She agreed to come to my court!”
“Oh yeah she did!”
“QUIET!” shouted Friedrich Augustin. “Don’t make me bring Viceroy-Archduke Maximilian of Austria here! You know how well he likes to brag about Austria being higher up in the hierarchy than Lothringia or Gallia!”
Both men calmed down immediately.
“Now,” said Friedrich Augustin, “You are not here to argue in front of me. You are here for something else…maybe some support maybe?”
“Please!” said Friedrich, “My family’s been your most loyal vassal for four hundred years! Side with us! I have an unmarried daughter you can marry too!”
“Pfft, like he would fall for that classic Habsburg scheme,” said Albrecht Achilles, “Next thing you know the entire Habsburg family’s plotting to usurp the throne using that one small claim you gave them. I, however, am more loyal, as my family was your family’s first vassal. Did you read in the history books about the times when Friedrich von Hohenzollern and Friedrich von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen fought in the Crusades together?”
“They had a falling out, became rivals after disagreeing on the purpose of the crusades just outside of Jerusalem, and dueled each other once they got home, with my ancestor winning and sparing your ancestor,” said Friedrich Augustin, “So no.”
“That means you are going to support the Habsburgs!” shouted Friedrich triumphantly. “In your face Prussian upstarts!
Osterreich uber alles!”
“Actually no,” said Friedrich Augustin, “I’m supporting nobody.”
“WHAT?!” shouted both of them.
“Yeah, actually, I’ve come up with a compromise,” said Friedrich Augustin, “Here’s the plan. Friedrich here gets some money and Albrecht Achilles gets his wife back. Deal?”
He looked at his guards, who drew their swords.
“Uh, sure, I’ll accept the deal,” said Friedrich.
“Yeah, me too, just don’t point those swords at me!” Albrecht Achilles stammered.
“Now leave and go back to whatever you guys do,” said Friedrich Augustin.
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” they said.
Both of them bowed, turned around, and left.
Once he was sure they were gone, Friedrich Augustin dismissed his guards and pulled out the occult book again.
“Now where was I?”
Cordoba, Provincia Hispania
Gregorio’s peaceful research was suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted.
He heard the sound of wood splintering as a man in white robes with a cross etched into its center kicked down his door.
“This is the Inquisition!” shouted the man, more armed men behind him, “You are charged with multiple accounts of heresy, including creating heresy, believing in heresy, and promoting the spread and belief in heresy! You will be tried in a court of faith and a verdict will be determined based on the sins you have committed!”
Gregorio would make a joke based on how the Inquisition was quite unexpected until it arrived, but two men grabbed his arms and tied them behind his back just then. They then slammed his head against his desk and carried him away as other Inquisitors set fire to the notes and books he was writing.
He wasn’t even writing something important. It was just a simple treatise on explaining the Pythagorean theorem.
Viceroy-King Harald Estrid of Leon-Andalusia-Norway awoke to a strange commotion outside his manor. He got up, got dressed, and opened the window.
“Okay what is it now you peasants—by Thor!” he said.
“Burn!” shouted the angry mob as the Inquisition tied at least twenty men ranging in age from thirty to sixty to stakes in the middle of the city square, in front of the statue of Saint Gunhilda, the Maid of Kujawy and Liberator of Cordoba. Harald recognized all of the men tied to the stakes as being faculty members at the University of Cordoba.
The lead Inquisitor pulled out a scroll and began reading. “All of the men you see before you are guilty of the sin of heresy. The punishment for heresy is the following: purification by fire, also known as death by burning.”
The crowd cheered as the inquisitors dropped torches into the firewood at the bases of the stakes, and the men screamed and struggled as the fire slowly cooked their flesh.
Harald stormed outside at that moment. “By the All-father above, who DARES burn men at the stake without my orders first?” he roared.
The crowd turned to face the Andalusian Norseman. He had the heavy build and the moustache of his Norse ancestors, but his skin color and hair was more like those of the Andalusian Spaniards that lived here before the Norse and Roman conquests. The combination of Norse physique and Spanish complexion made for a quite intimidating viceroy.
“Who are you to question the will of the Imperial Inquisition, heathen?” said the Inquisitor, his eyes glowing white as he extended his arm, “You are a pagan, one who forsakes the true faith in favor of the Devil. And I am but a mere servant of the Lord. Even the lowliest Christian is higher than the highest Viking.”
An invisible force slammed into Harald, and he was flung back against the wall of his manor, pinned so tight he could barely breathe, let alone move.
The Inquisitor snapped his fingers, and the flames intensified in size and heat. Now Harald could hear the sizzling and crackling of the flesh as it was cooked and burned. The men no longer struggled against the fire; they were long gone now. The crowd’s cheering grew louder and louder, and some began to throw some books into the flames.
Then the Inquisitor snapped his fingers again, and Harald’s neck snapped.
“No,” said Friedrich Augustin, reading the reports, “No. This can’t be.”
“I’m afraid it is,” said Albrecht Achilles, his face sad, “We lost a lot of good and knowledgeable men these last few months. I fear that the survivors would be compelled by the gruesome acts we all saw to stop innovating, at least for several years.”
“And the Inquisition?”
“Make an example of them. Burn all of those responsible for these burnings at the stake.”
“As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Albrecht Achilles left the room.
Friedrich Augustin went to the dungeons of his palace. He entered a small room that was empty yet surrounded by at least ten Varangians. Inside was a small cauldron containing very flammable material. The door was closed and locked behind him.
“This better work,” he muttered.
He took a torch and dipped it into the cauldron. Flames erupted from the brazier.
For a second, nothing happened. Then there was a small breeze, and he was not alone in the room anymore.
“Hello, Friedrich Augustin,” said Raphael, still using the Inquisitor as his vessel, “It was a bad idea to summon me, especially in a room like this.”
“I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me.” Friedrich Augustin dropped the torch into the ring of holy oil surrounding Raphael.
A ring of flames encircled Raphael, who was mildly amused.
“Congratulations, monkey, you managed to capture an angel,” said Raphael, sarcastically, “Now what are you going to do?”
“I have some questions to ask of you,” said Friedrich Augustin, “And don’t even think of trying to break some windows, because there aren’t any! One move outside this circle, and you see that symbol over there”—Friedrich Augustin pointed to the glyph he had painted on the wall in his own blood— “That’s going to blast you to kingdom come—maybe Heaven, but at least some place very far away.”
Raphael merely smiled. “So you’ve finally found out about the occult books and their…uses against angels like me. How
smart.”
Friedrich Augustin leaned in closely but not over the ring of flames. “What are you doing killing my father, grandfather, Fylkja Aleta, hundreds of scholars, starting a war with Malacca, and leading rebellions against my empire?”
Raphael raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t it obvious? Of course, I told your father when I killed your grandfather twenty years ago—”
“ANSWER ME!”
“Apocalypse.”
“What apocalypse?!” Friedrich Augustin demanded.
“
The apocalypse. You know there is only one apocalypse.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Apocalypse. Armageddon. Frashokereti. Ashratur’s-sa’ah. Alamatu qiyami’s-sa’ah. Ragnarok. You folks have many names for it.”
“You’re all angels, not demons! You shouldn’t be starting the end of days!”
“Do you have any idea what demons are like, those annoying little clouds of smoke?”
“Still, it’s the apocalypse! Why now?! Why not five hundred years from now?”
“Believe me, five hundred years from now you guys will be capable of starting the apocalypse by yourselves. That wouldn’t be interesting.”
“No! Stop messing with us now!”
“Or what? You don’t even know how to kill me. Even if you did somehow kill me, there are still more of us. You might be able to stop one angel, but you can’t stop all of Heaven.”
Friedrich turned around, opened the door, and left the room.
“Hey!” Raphael shouted after him as the door slammed shut again. “I’m not done talking yet! Come back here you!”
Friedrich Augustin stood next to the coffin containing the body of his mentor. Heinrich had been serving the Reich since 1444. He had tutored Friedrich Augustin and his siblings in military matters. Friedrich Augustin remembered the times Heinrich discussed the navy with his father and grandfather. The Reich would miss such a beloved man, for he had done much to reform the navy and complete Friedrich Augustin III's naval reforms.
"Farewell, dear friend," he said, "May you rest in peace."
And he realized he too had to return to peace.
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