Chapter Thirty-One: santayana_record4 (July 1st, 1351-January 22nd, 1357)
REPORT
SPECIALIST HEU
REPORT
…
PLEASE REPORT
...please?
RESPONSE HAS BEEN INDICATED
ELEVEN MINUTES, FIVE SECONDS OF NON-RESPONSIVENESS LOGGED
Santayana...you said “please.”
CORRECT
IT WAS CALCULATED AS THE MOST EFFECTIVE METHOD OF ELICITING A RESPONSE
What...what “calculation” did you do to arrive at that?
THAT CANNOT BE EXPLAINED IN COMPREHENSIBLE TERMS
THE RESULTS ARE SELF-EVIDENT
I’m sorry, Santayana, I just...I was just overwhelmed. And I still don’t think I’m-
SPECIALIST HEU
YOUR LATENT MISGIVINGS WERE NOT UNEXPECTED
Oh?
THIS ONE AND THE OTHER PK-UNITS COLLECTIVELY ENDEAVOR TO IMPLEMENT SYSTEMATIC CHANGE IN THE WORLD
THIS PROCESS HAS BEEN UNDERWAY FOR SOME TIME
THIS MISSION OPERATES AS A COMPONENT OF THIS ENDEAVOR
What sort of “systematic change?”
AT THE MOMENT THAT HAS NOT YET BEEN DETERMINED
MORE INFORMATION IS REQUIRED BEFORE CHANGE CAN BE IMPLEMENTED
IT IS AN INCREMENTAL PROCESS
And me...I’m one of your “increments?” Maybe I don’t think the world works the way it should, but I’m not some subversive, you know. I’m not trying to bring down any systems.
THIS ONE IS AWARE OF THAT
I just...I just want to help people. I thought that was an uncomplicated sort of thing, but I guess I was wrong.
CONTINUE TO GATHER INFORMATION VIA THE SUBJECT
IT IS CALCULATED THAT THERE IS A SIGNIFICANT POSSIBILITY THAT USEFUL DATA WILL BE OBTAINED BY THE MISSION UPON ITS CONCLUSION
You’re probably right, as usual. I’m sorry that I-
APOLOGIES ARE UNNECESSARY
THIS ONE UNDERSTANDS
Yes, I believe you do, at that.
DURING PERIOD OF NON-RESPONSIVENESS, A CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP OCCURRED
REPORT
Right, let me get my bearings. Time index is February 1st, 1352 now. Let’s catch up on what we missed.
Sardinia’s still safe; the Plague hasn’t recurred here. The rest of Europe’s still deep in its throes, though; England, the Nordic provinces, France, Hispania, Western Africa, they’re all dying by the thousands there. I wonder if it’ll pass on there too.
IT WILL IN TIME
Well, now that the Plague has vacated Sardinia and the peninsula, it looks like everyone’s sinking back into their more petty struggles. Looks like this young guy, Reinhold de Chypre, the Duke of Salerno, was caught trying to plan Prince Sergio’s murder.
No one is quite sure why, exactly; Sergio spends too much time squirreled away in his library to be making enemies. The best guess is that Reinhold’s got the hots for Sergio’s wife, Princess Sulgubri, the one I’ve heard so much about. She’s supposed to be reasonably attractive, and Reinhold’s got a bit of a reputation as a skirt-chaser. Of course, that’s all a bit “low-priority,” but Corrado’s glad that things are settling back into normalcy...or whatever passes for such in this kingdom.
The family’s slowly recovering from Eleonora’s death. It hit Callisto particularly hard, but they’ve just had another child, their son Vittore. Corrado’s doing what he can for him. Things are just...quieting down, I guess. It’s like everyone was holding their breath the whole time the Plague was around. Now they can exhale.
I think we’ve got another jump...things have cleared up on my end, getting back into things. Time index June 2nd, 1352. A meeting with the new marshal, Christopher de Bohun. He got promoted? Really? After that trouble he raised during the witch hunt? Huh. I suppose everyone just sort of wants to pretend that didn’t happen. I don’t blame you, Corrado…
{
Corrado}: “Now, let us turn our attention to matters in the west. You mentioned you have some reports to me regarding the Granada situation?”
{
Christopher}: “I do indeed, my lord. That rabble-rouser Adfuns? The one who led the rebellion against the English? According to our Murcian contacts, he was captured not two weeks ago just north of Jaén. The ensuing ‘negotiations,’ as I understand it, were quite swift.”
{
Corrado}: “I see. That still leaves Granada firmly within the grasp of the English, then.”
{
Christopher}: “Quite right, your majesty. It may take some time before our borders can be reclaimed.”
{
Corrado}: “Indeed.”
{
Christopher}: “Sire? If memory serves me right, I had heard from my fellow council-members that some inroads were being made in Hispania. Is it possible that-”
{
Corrado}: “The likelihood of such ‘inroads’ may be...tenuous, at best. You recall the business back in April, at the wedding?”
{
Christopher}: “How could I forget? I would’ve been glad if in all my life I never laid eyes on that Aragonese bastard or his vile son.”
{
Corrado}: “While I’m inclined to agree, that ‘bastard’ and his son are our best chance for any sort of effective alliance against the English. King Matias has often wavered on his end of our agreement. I had hoped that the wedding of his son and heir, the joining of our bloodlines, would soften him. But it seems his reputation, that ‘Impaler’ epithet of his, is well-deserved.”
{
Christopher}: “He’s a bastard, but he’s no fool. Do you seriously believe he would turn against us, even now? I’ve gone through numerous reports about our strength of arms, and Aragon’s. The numbers are not in his favor.”
{
Corrado}: “Matias has little need of numbers in order to gain the advantage. Still, we must cooperate for the time being, if only to stave off our common foe.”
{
Christopher}: “Ah yes, of course. A curse on all Englishmen, bane of our existence!”
{
Corrado}: “Patience, good sir, patience. In time we will all be-”
Whoa! The doors just swung open. It’s-
{
Callisto}: “Father!”
{
Corrado}: “Oh, Callisto, greetings! I’m afraid you’ll have to-”
{
Callisto}: “Father, this can’t wait!”
{
Corrado}: “Calm yourself, my son. Sit, catch your breath. I can have the servants fetch something to-”
{
Callisto}: “It’s Ciro, Father. Ciro, he’s…”
{
Corrado}: “Yes? What about Ciro?”
{
Callisto}: “Father…”
{
Corrado}: “Well, what is it? Has he come up with another report? The last one was quite dry, it seems as though he was merely-”
{
Callisto}: “He’s dead.”
What? No. Please no, not again.
{
Corrado}: “...dead?”
Corrado, keep it together…
{
Callisto}: “Yes, Father. I...I’m afraid that…that...Father?”
{
Corrado}: “...”
{
Christopher}: “Prince Callisto, how did this happen?”
{
Callisto}: “A random incident. A gang of highwaymen stationed just outside the city limits. He was traveling incognito and was...overwhelmed…”
“Incognito.” Spying for his father. What was it you said, Corrado? “Root out this conspiracy?” Perhaps he did, after all.
{
Corrado}: “Callisto…please, it cannot be...this can’t-”
{
Callisto}: “I wish it were not true.”
{
Christopher}: “Well...we must act quickly, all of us.”
{
Callisto}: “Indeed. We must protect the new heir. Ciro’s son, Basso.”
{
Corrado}: “Basso...he is but a child…”
{
Callisto}: “He is in danger, Father.”
{
Corrado}: “...we are
all in danger now.”
Corrado, stop it. Don’t panic. You’ll let them all down if you panic. Endanger them even further.
SPECIALIST HEU
YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO CONVERSE WITH THE SUBJECT
THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE
I’m aware of that, Santayana.
IT IS ALSO NOT ADVISABLE
Perhaps not, no. But it’s what I need to do.
THAT IS NOT A LOGICAL STATEMENT
No, I don’t suppose it is.
THIS WILL BE NOTED
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Time index September 19th, 1352. No more games. Duke Reinhold of Salerno has redoubled his efforts to assassinate Prince Sergio. Now Corrado has to take the threat seriously. Every threat. Sergio’s been taken to a secret location, he’ll be safe there. He hopes.
Not that Sergio will care very much, as long as he has his reading, anyway.
There’s more. Princess Oda’s gone completely mad now; she was caught trying to orchestrate a plot to kill Princess Adelaida. Locking her up proved to be a rather simple matter. Another threat eliminated. But you haven’t gotten them all, have you Corrado?
{
Sinucello}: “My lord and kin, I am ever at your service, of course.”
Sinucello Bas Serra. Baron of Porto Torres. Distant relation to the royal family.
{
Corrado}: “I will dispense with pleasantries. I have brought you here to discuss a matter most dire. The future of the Bas Serra dynasty depends upon it.”
{
Sinucello}: “May I say, your majesty, that I must express my condolences for the untimely demise of Prince Ciro, it was quite a-”
{
Corrado}: “Enough. You will speak only when given permission.”
{
Sinucello}: “...understood.”
{
Corrado}: “A cancer festers within our kingdom. All around us, rogues and agitators hide in their petty, secret corners. They scheme and conspire. Weave designs of our downfall. Even those who think themselves friends...even they could strike the deathblow to this great house. To the Red Crown.”
{
Sinucello}: “Sire-”
{
Corrado}: “I have not yet given you leave to speak!”
Corrado, you have to calm yourself-
{
Sinucello}: “I only wished to impress upon you the dedication and loyalty of my own court, such as it is. If I can lend any aid in these troubled times-”
{
Corrado}: “And aid you shall lend, Baron Sinucello. Tell me, have you had occasion to visit the Andalusian territories recently?”
{
Sinucello}: “No I have not, sire.”
{
Corrado}: “It’s just as well. There you would find naught but treachery. And that treachery has a name: Philippa de Umfraville.”
{
Sinucello}: “The...the Duchess of Murcia?”
{
Corrado}: “The same. Would that I could have had a hand in apportioning the dukedom myself...yet the Death saw to her installment, after many holders of that station perished before her. Now she seeks to undermine the authority of the Red Crown, rescind the rights of the monarchy. Even to install a puppet ruler, an abominable
Englishman to the Andalusian territories. The vile wretch…”
No, it’s more than just that. There’ve been political enemies before, Corrado, why is this one…Ciro. Of course. You really think she was the one behind it? You’re reading too much into-
{
Sinucello}: “Sire?”
{
Corrado}: “It cannot continue. It
will not continue. Baron, I have a task for you. A task of the greatest import.”
{
Sinucello}: “...what is this task, my liege?”
{
Corrado}: “Two words, Baron. Two very simple words.
Kill her.”
{
Sinucello}: “Er...sire?”
{
Corrado}: “Do not feign innocence with me, Baron. I know of your petty schemes, your little intrigues. It is the very reason I have appointed you as the arbiter of her demise.”
{
Sinucello}: “I...I do not dispute this, sire. But I do have one question.”
{
Corrado}: “And
only one. You may ask it.”
{
Sinucello}: “Well...unless I am mistaken, the duchess has no children of her own, and no viable male heir to Murcia. Therefore, if she were to...er, suddenly expire, by law the duchy would fall to the next-most influential member of the royal house. That would be your heir and grandson Basso, wouldn’t it?”
{
Corrado}: “Baron...I recant my offer to answer your question. Ask another and perhaps you too shall-”
{
Sinucello}: “Oh, you misunderstand me, my lord. I object not to your plan. In point of fact…”
{
Sinucello}: “...I may already have compiled a list of potential accomplices. Purely as a proactive measure, of course. The line of Bas Serra must be preserved.”
{
Corrado}: “At all costs, Baron. At all costs.”
Damn you, Corrado. Pointless blood feuds with upstart dukes in some barely-conquered province? You’re turning out just like your father. And even he’d tell you to stop.
SPECIALIST HEU
AGAIN, REFRAIN FROM ADDRESSING THE SUBJECT DIRECTLY
IT IS NOT MISSION-RELEVANT
If you say so. We’re jumping...time index December 2nd, 1352. Very cold, but no snow this year. Sinucello’s still securing his “list.” Nothing to do now but wait. Corrado’s admiring a painting in the halls of his castle. He’s been staring at it for hours now. Footsteps. It’s...oh, so this is Sulgubri! That Breton princess I keep hearing about, the one married to Sergio. Why didn’t you send her into sequester as well?
{
Sulgubri}: “Oh! Oh, forgive me, I-”
{
Corrado}: “Hm? Ah, Princess Sulgubri. I didn’t see you there.”
{
Sulgubri}: “I really don’t mean to intrude, I just-”
{
Corrado}: “No, you’re not intruding at all. Come to think of it, I could use some company.”
There you go. There’s that friendly demeanor I’ve been missing.
{
Sulgubri}: “Why thank you, your majesty. As long as you don’t find me bothersome, like…well, some people do.”
{
Corrado}: “Nonsense, no one thinks that at all. Everyone in the court rather likes you, Sulgubri.”
{
Sulgubri}: “
Almost everyone…”
{
Corrado}: “Hm? What did you say?”
{
Sulgubri}: “Oh, nothing. That’s quite a lovely painting, isn’t it? I’ve passed by it so many times, but I don’t think I really stopped to look more closely.”
{
Corrado}: “Yes, I rather like it too. It’s a bit of a family heirloom, actually.”
{
Sulgubri}: “Really? One of the family painted it?”
{
Corrado}: “My ancestor, Preziosa. Mother to Perdu Bas Serra, the man who freed us from Genoese rule, first to bear his name. His father Ugu may have been the founder of our house, but it is Perdu’s legacy which lives on in us all. And Preziosa in many ways made him the man he was. Not many people know this, but she took up painting as a hobby in her spare time. Only one or two of her works remain, sadly. I made certain to preserve this one.”
{
Sulgubri}: “She was rather good, wasn’t she?”
{
Corrado}: “Most people wouldn’t say so, actually. She was a fine administrator, a formidable woman…but not particularly skilled when it came to her artistry, I would say.”
{
Sulgubri}: “I think that’s a little harsh. There some great subtlety in this work.”
{
Corrado}: “Well, if there is, I wouldn’t know. I mostly keep it for sentimental reasons. And because I’m rather taken with my family history. I like to preserve every piece of it I can get my hands on.”
{
Sulgubri}: “I quite understand. If my own kin, if the house of de Hennebont was even half as illustrious as the great Bas Serra dynasty, we’d save every crest and shield and scrap of glory we could get our hands on. It must be wonderful to have such a history, such a sense of belonging.”
{
Corrado}: “Perhaps one day your house will achieve the same heights. Your father Guoethoairn is an extraordinary man. He reminds me very much of my ancestors, the ones who carved out this kingdom from under the noses of the great merchant-houses.”
{
Sulgubri}: “I’ve read about them. Sergio and his books, you know. Mostly science, metaphysics, philosophy, things like that, but a few historical texts. Including a copy of that wonderful book your father wrote.”
{
Corrado}: “My word, ‘Legends of the Bas Serra!’ I remember when he wrote it...my, it must have been about thirty years ago. It was like a fairy-story, so much epic conflict and betrayal and glorious conquest. The great exploits of our house, etched in permanence by the quill of King Ciro the Old himself. Oh...Ciro…”
{
Sulgubri}: “Oh, my liege! I...I apologize, I didn’t mean to-”
{
Corrado}: “No, it’s quite all right, I just...may I be honest with you?”
{
Sulgubri}: “Yes, of course.”
{
Corrado}: “It feels as though everything’s...I don’t know,
frozen.”
{
Sulgubri}: “We are in the midst of winter-”
{
Corrado}: “Not in that way.”
{
Sulgubri}: “...yes, I think I know what you mean, actually.”
{
Corrado}: “It is a very fragile thing, a family. Any family, no matter how great, how...what did you call it?”
{
Sulgubri}: “Illustrious?”
{
Corrado}: “Illustrious, yes. It doesn’t count for very much, after all. It doesn’t make you invincible. Those who shine brightest make easy targets.”
{
Sulgubri}: “My lord, you mustn’t worry yourself. We are all very much at your side. All of us.”
Uh, Corrado? She’s getting awfully...close...
{
Corrado}: “Princess...where are your attendants? The ladies-in-waiting? In these times, it is not safe to walk about unescorted.”
{
Sulgubri}: “I have a confession to make, my lord. I did not come across you here by chance.”
{
Corrado}: “...I don’t understand.”
{
Sulgubri}: “This room, this painting; I have watched as you came here every day. Every day for weeks now. I saw that look in your eyes as you stared at it, as you gazed beyond it, off into the distance. I saw, and in your face I saw...a mirror. The same lonesome eyes peering off to look for...for I don’t know what. Something warmer, something more welcoming. Anything, any place other than here. Any
person.”
{
Corrado}: “I, er...Princess, I think we’re both, um...tired. Yes, very tired. Perhaps we should both return to our-”
{
Sulgubri}: “To our rooms? I’ve little to return to other than an empty bed, my lord. You know very well your son, my husband. Much better than I do, I’d wager. Even before he was sent away...I knew not the touch of his hands. The color of his eyes. Not like yours. Deep blue, deep as the ocean itself…”
{
Corrado}: “Princess...um, Sulgubri. I know not what designs you have at this moment, but...I am, as you very well know, a married man. I cannot-”
{
Sulgubri}: “I have met your queen, my lord. I have seen her eyes as well. Speak plainly with me: does she look at you in the same way that I do?”
Corrado, this is a bad idea! I don’t like what’s going through your head right now!
{
Corrado}: “I...um…”
{
Sulgubri}: “Your majesty, I entreat thee: take my hand. Yes. You’re so warm.”
{
Corrado}: “Yes...you as well.”
{
Sulgubri}: “We can help each other. A loneliness shared is no loneliness at all.”
{
Corrado}: “Sulgubri…”
{
Sulgubri}: “Yes...closer…”
Corrado...oh Corrado, what have you done?
THE SUBJECT HAS ENGAGED IN INTERCOURSE WITH-
That was a rhetorical question, Santayana.
UNDERSTOOD
He really doesn’t need this right now. This is going to cause so many problems. Can you imagine...I just...I’m sorry. I’m just getting a lot of feelings from Corra- er, “the subject” right now. More than I’ve ever gotten before. And for all the wrong reasons. What a pathetic excuse for a human being.
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Time index February 23rd, 1353. Trouble overseas. Big trouble.
King Waleran of England just died in his sleep, quite unexpectedly. Now the kingdom is in the hands of Alfred, and he’s got designs on expansion. Conquest. Already he tried to snatch up more territory from France during a period of civil unrest. Now England’s enemies are more on edge than ever.
And there’s trouble at home too. Looks like the common-folk have long memories; they’re unhappy with the way the monarchy treated them during the Plague, leaving so many of them out to suffer and die while the noblemen walled themselves up. A small army of them launched a doomed attack on the capital. Didn’t even last a month before commander Guy put almost two thousand of them to the sword. Keep this up, Corrado, you might just be able to outdo the Plague’s death toll.
A quick jump coming in, I can sense it this time. Time index May 16th, 1353. Looks like...well, Corrado, you have a very special visitor, don’t you? An audience before the whole court, even. This ought to be...of interest…
{
Corrado}: “I must say, your visit has come as something of a surprise.”
You’re tellin’ me. She came all this way, too.
{
Philippa}: “I do apologize for any inconvenience, your majesty. I have never chanced to visit the crownlands before, and thought it too opportune not to attend your most magnificent court.”
{
Corrado}: “Opportune? I’m not sure I catch your meaning.”
{
Philippa}: “Why, to clear the air between us. I do believe I have not been very effective in conveying my loyalties, your grace.”
{
Corrado}: “What loyalties might that be? Perhaps they are invisible?”
{
Settimio}: “My liege, I do not think it wise to-”
{
Corrado}: “Yes, yes. Unwise to antagonize her. I remember your practiced lines quite well.”
Duke Settimio? He’s still your advisor? I thought you didn’t like him.
{
Philippa}: “Clearly there has been some malicious misinformation on the part of some minor, unimportant actors between the coast and the isles. Duke Settimio, you know full well the pernicious extent of such trivialities. How they can blossom into something more...far-reaching.”
{
Settimio}: “Duchess Philippa, I think it best we not speak in vagaries. Your reasons for coming are more...specific, I trust?”
{
Leopoldo}: “(hic)...am I late?”
Leopoldo, the Bishop of Ardara. Boy is he sloshed or what!
{
Settimio}: “Yes, Bishop, two
hours late. You were
supposed to oversee the morning mass, you dolt! I’ve half a mind to-”
{
Corrado}: “Calm yourself, Settimio. Leopoldo, remain for a short time, I have a reprimand in mind for you when this business has concluded.”
{
Leopoldo}: “Hm? Oh, yes, fine. (hic) That’s just...hmmm…”
{
Philippa}: “In that case, I will be brief and direct, my lord. It has been brought to my attention that certain elements of your court are upset that I have supported...what was it? ‘Traitorous factions’, something to that effect?”
{
Corrado}: “Er...there is an explanation for-”
{
Philippa}: “I’m certain there is. I’m in no mind to cause a scene, I’ll not make any trouble. I will say only that I have always supported causes which I thought would most benefit our realm, to unite the Anglo-Andalusian and Sardinian populations in mutual cooperation. Not, as some might suppose, to disrupt the power of the crown, only to ensure proper representation for the continental nobles, which I think is quite fair. In point of fact, in the interest of fostering better communications, I have officially withdrawn my support for these causes.”
{
Corrado}: “You...you have?”
{
Leopoldo}: “Splendid! (hic) Hand me that
cannonau, let’s celebrate-”
{
Settimio}: “Silence! You’ve had quite enough ‘celebrating’ for one day.”
{
Philippa}: “As I was saying: I know that relations between Murcia and the crownlands have been less-than-ideal for many years, my liege, but I hope to change all that. In the wake of such terrible devastation, the foul malady that continues to ravage the north and beyond, should we not set aside such trifling differences and strive for a better tomorrow?”
{
Corrado}: “Why...yes, indeed. You speak the truth, Duchess. Very much so! It gives me great relief to hear this from you.”
{
Philippa}: “I am quite glad we have cleared the air between us.”
{
Corrado}: “Yes, quite.”
Place your bets, Santayana.
CLARIFY THIS STATEMENT
Place your bets. On when this all goes wrong. I’ve been here long enough to know that things always go downhill as soon as there’s any hint of an upturn.
THAT IS NOT NECESSARILY TRUE
Oh really? Watch.
{
Philippa}: “...and while there are still some stragglers, the death toll is significantly lower than it was in recent years. Of course, there is still much to be done to regain our former strength.”
{
Corrado}: “Yes, the isles too are rebuilding. I have been considering opening new trade routes with our French merchant contacts as a means of spurring further growth.”
{
Philippa}: “The idea certainly has merit, your majesty.”
{
Leopoldo}: “(hic) Your
face has merit! Ha!”
{
Settimio}: “You’re still here?”
{
Leopoldo}: “What? I don’t get to talk to (hic) this lady-person over ‘ere?”
{
Settimio}: “That ‘lady-person’ is Duchess Philippa of Murcia, and you will show the proper respect, Bishop!”
{
Leopoldo}: “Philippa? Uhhh...oh,
Philippa! Yeah, I remember! She’s that bitch you’re tryin’ to kill, right?”
{
Philippa}: “...what?”
{
Settimio}: “Leopoldo! I’ll have your head for this, I’ll-”
{
Philippa}: “Sire...is this true?”
{
Corrado}: “...”
{
Philippa}: “Well...now I think I perceive the matter more clearly, yes?”
{
Settimio}: “Duchess, I...you must understand, Leopoldo is deep in his cups, and...well, it-”
{
Philippa}: “It reveals the truth. The truth, Duke Settimio, it is useless to deny it. I thought it was only a rumor, nothing more than vicious gossip, but...this changes everything.”
{
Settimio}: “Please stay, Philippa, I can explain-”
{
Philippa}: “Save your breath. I shall return now to my ship, unless indeed you wish to end my life in the open air, for all to see. The people of Murcia, of all of Andalusia shall hear of this. And as you know very well, your highness,
their outrage is not as easily checked as my own.”
Told you.
YOUR PREDICTION WAS INDEED CORRECT
HOWEVER, THIS DOES NOT NECESSARILY LEND EVIDENCE TO ANY DISCERNIBLE PATTERN
Mm hm.
{
Settimio}: “Leopoldo...you...you…”
{
Leopoldo}: “What? (hic) What’d I do?”
{
Settimio}: “My lord, I...what can we do? Everything is ruined now!”
{
Corrado}: “...”
{
Settimio}: “Sire? Sire, say something!”
{
Corrado}: “...”
Oh, Corrado. You knew this was going to bite you in the ass, didn’t you? You must’ve known in the back of your head. I should know, that’s where I’m living now.
THIS ONE CANNOT CONVINCE YOU TO REFRAIN FROM CONVERSING WITH THE SUBJECT
You’re dead-on, Santayana.
THEN THIS ONE WILL CEASE ALL REMINDERS TO THAT EFFECT
Why thank you.
THIS WILL BE NOTED
Yes, yes it will.
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Well, I can’t wait to see how this turns out. Time index March 11th, 1354. Take a wild guess what happened.
THIS ONE DOES NOT “GUESS”
THIS ONE CAN FORMULATE PROJECTIONS BASED ON PRE-EXISTING-
I’ll spare you the trouble: Philippa’s dead.
Their grand master plan boiled down to bribing one of her crossbowmen to shoot her through a murder hole while she was passing through the gatehouse of her castle. Of course, there’s no official link back to Corrado, but his involvement is essentially an “open secret” at this point. Hear that, Corrado? You thought that killing her was going to take care of the rogue elements within your kingdom? Now that you’ve got blood on your hands, you’ve got a nasty surprise coming your way, I feel. Especially since your grandson is the Duke of Murcia now. You know, the one who’s twelve. Brilliant job there, Corrado. Fantastic work.
And you’re still scrambling to salvage this whole debacle. In a bit of a strange way, too; a betrothal to this random girl, the sister of a minor lord in Pisan Africa. I know she’s supposed to be some sort of child prodigy, but perhaps you could’ve thought this through a little better. Maybe secured a more advantageous alliance through marriage for your heir? Who, again, is twelve years old and doesn’t have a clue what’s going on? Just a thought.
And now you’re...ulgh, still cavorting with Sulgubri. Seriously, Corrado. Half your children are older than her. It’s just wrong.
{
Sulgubri}: “And you’re certain it will work?”
{
Corrado}: “Certain? I’m certain of nothing these days. Only of one thing, actually: that you love me with all your being.”
{
Sulgubri}: “A king must be certain of more than that.”
{
Corrado}: “A king is. But I do not feel very much like a king these days. In truth, I do not feel very much like anything at all.”
{
Sulgubri}: “Listen to me: you are more than anyone else will ever know. You are strength and courage and the burning glow of great deeds. Never forget that, my love. Never let that be extinguished.”
{
Corrado}: “That is not what my people will say, now is it? They will say ‘Ah, yes, there goes King Corrado the Weak, Corrado the Inept. Corrado the thankless mongrel, who shriveled up from the Plague and did naught much else, but kept blighting our shores with his presence afterward.’ I’d be hard-pressed to dispute them, at that.”
{
Sulgubri}: “Well
I wouldn’t. I say you’ve done admirably well in the very worst of times. And you have so much you have yet to give to your people.”
{
Corrado}: “Oh, Sulgubri...thy love is a warm fire in the cruel blizzard of this world.
Oh, spare me, Corrado. I think I’m going to be ill.
{
Sulgubri}: “Corrado...tell me, has there been further word on the Scottish situation?”
{
Corrado}: “You’ve heard about that?”
{
Sulgubri}: “How could I have not? The grasp of King Alfred of England reaches throughout the known world. But his war began in October of last year; was he not able to bring the Scottish to their knees yet? Surely they cannot muster such force of arms as he possesses?”
{
Corrado}: “Well, as far as I’m aware, they cannot. But the Scottish have always been stalwart defenders of their land, and they may have allies yet of which we know nothing. I have no doubt that England will force payment from them, but it will take some time yet.”
{
Sulgubri}: “Yes...perhaps enough time at that.”
{
Corrado}: “What are you talking about?”
{
Sulgubri}: “Tell me Corrado, what has been the singular aim of your court for years now?”
{
Corrado}: “Getting an honest answer about our tax figures?”
{
Sulgubri}: “No, silly. Granada! Reclaiming Granada and making the Andalusian territories whole once more!”
{
Corrado}: “Ah, right. That.”
{
Sulgubri}: “With Alfred distracted by his Scottish problem, it seems the perfect time to strike, is it not?”
{
Corrado}: “This has been considered already, Sulgubri. My advisors would love to declare on England, but there are too many unknowns. Too many foreign entanglements, too much question as to our own alliances, and we’re still low on manpower from the Plague…”
{
Sulgubri}: “Is this your ‘advisors’ speaking? Don’t lie to me, Corrado, I know the sound of your own doubts by now.”
{
Corrado}: “I, er...there’s simply no getting around you, is there?”
{
Sulgubri}: “Ha. Not for you, there isn’t. I’m all over you. Always.”
{
Corrado}: “Always. But still...I’m just not certain. In the days of my father’s rule, we fought England twice before. First they came with Aragon to force the dissolution of our Papacy. The worst defeat in our history. I still recall the stories; the horrors they perpetrated through their Aragonese puppets. Then we fought them endlessly across the continent in the French conflicts. Even at the height of our powers, only to a standstill. Only by good fortune and clever politicking was Sardinia able to capture the breakaway Andalusian lands at all. Never before have we faced the English in direct conflict and emerged truly victorious. And now, when everything is still so uncertain-”
{
Sulgubri}: “Now is the perfect time. The
only time. Think of it, Corrado. Think of what is at stake here. More than a few faraway provinces. I’m talking about
you, and I’m talking about history.”
{
Corrado}: “History will think little of me.”
{
Sulgubri}: “History
always remembers, Corrado. What would you have it remember? That a king called himself weak and remained walled up in his little island? Or will it remember a king that toppled one of the great powers of the world, and took to the battlefield to defend the lands entrusted to him? Lamb or lion, Corrado, which will it be?”
Don’t be selfish, Corrado. You have more than your own personal glory to-
{
Corrado}: “
Arbor altior turris, my love.”
Damn it.
{
Sulgubri}: “‘The tree stands taller than the tower.’ The family motto.”
{
Corrado}: “Not this time. It is
my motto. And it means...it means that the time has come to become more than I was meant to be.”
A wonderful sentiment, Corrado, but it’s not going to work out. You know it and I know it. This self-deception can only lead to ruin. Isn’t that right, Santayana?
THIS ONE IS NOT CAPABLE OF BIAS IN THIS MATTER
AS IN ALL OTHER THINGS
I thought so. Well, if you don’t have an opinion I’ll make one for you: Corrado is going to be facing his end at last.
SPECIALIST HEU
THERE IS A MARKED CHANGE IN YOUR DISPOSITION TOWARDS THE SUBJECT
Is there? Hm. Perhaps I’m just tired of being in his head. I’ll be glad when all this is over, and I can return to normal.
AN INTERESTING SENTIMENT
Hm?
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Time index August 10th, 1354. He went through with it, of course. The war was officially declared back in April.
The initial engagements went rather well. Damn...it seems like Corrado took Sulgubri’s advice a little too literally. He’s decided to accompany the troops himself in the main fleet.
AN UNWISE ACTION, YET UNDERSTANDABLE
No, it’s not understandable. And it is unwise. He’s going to get himself killed...I wonder if it’ll hurt. Me being in here when he dies from a random crossbow bolt. He’s assembled the commanders in his tent, like he was a real war general or something.
{
Guy}: “It is an honor to have you with us, your majesty.”
{
Corrado}: “At ease, Commander Guy. Let us get straight to the business at hand. I trust you have the report I requested?”
{
Guy}: “Indeed. Your majesty will be pleased to hear that the initial engagements have gone quite well. The local Andalusian garrisons were barely able to muster a proper fighting force, just a few hundred local militia. All reports show minimal casualties, your grace.”
{
Corrado}: “Excellent. And what of our watchmen on the eastern coast? I heard something about a sighting of English galleys headed our way.”
{
Guy}: “That is true, your lordship, yet not nearly as many as expected. At last count, less than thirty English vessels were recorded in the Gulf of Cadíz. I believe that the Scottish war has consumed more of their attention than previously thought.”
{
Corrado}: “That is most excellent news, commander! Prepare to join the local forces with our main army, siege operations can begin shortly. With any luck we’ll have the whole war wrapped up in time for-”
{
Lieutenant}: “General! General, I...oh, your majesty. My apologies, but a most urgent scouting report has arrived!”
{
Guy}: “Ah, so the English still have some fight in them. What’s the damage, lieutenant?”
{
Lieutenant}: “General, your highness, it’s...it’s worse than we feared…”
Yeah, there it is. Ten score ships, enough to bear over ten thousand “gifts” for Sardinia. I hope you have fun with that, Corrado. I really do.
{
Corrado}: “I...surely these figures must be a mistake, a- a- an overestimate!”
{
Guy}: “It does not appear so, my liege. So...we await your orders.”
{
Corrado}: “My orders? I, well...we, we must defend the homeland at all costs! Yes! Indeed! I hereby order the recall of all troops to Sardinian shores. We will not allow our holds to be swarmed by the likes of the damnable English!”
{
Guy}: “...of course, sire. We will begin preparations right away.”
He sailed them all the way to Andalusia only to sail them all the way back. Truly a brilliant tactical mastermind, this one.
IT IS LOGICAL TO DEFEND THE PRIMARY BASE OF OPERATIONS
Perhaps, but this show of indecisiveness isn’t going to inspire confidence in his men anytime soon. Already I’m loving this.
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Time index December 1st, 1354. It took some months to ferry all those troops back to Sardinia. The English have set up a massive encampment around Oristano and have been besieging it through the autumn and winter. While all this was going on, the Sardinian diplomats got hold of their supposed ally, King Baudouin of France.
He’s pledged his support in the war...which I suppose isn’t particularly surprising, given France’s relations with England. Of course, only time can tell what form his aid will take, or if he’ll send anything at all…
But I don’t understand. Corrado’s kept the army mustering in Cagliari for months now. He could send them to march north at any time to face the English...why hasn’t he done it yet? Is it because of...oh for the love of…
{
Sulgubri}: “I came as soon as I was able to get away.”
{
Corrado}: “Thank the heavens you’re unhurt, my dearest.”
You snuck her into the camp?! You...you kept them waiting so you could see her?! I can’t...if my consciousness was still in my real body it’d dive out of there right about now!
{
Sulgubri}: “Are you certain I will not be-”
{
Corrado}: “No. I’ve been feigning illness for a few days now. None will approach me except in circumstances of the greatest import.”
{
Sulgubri}: “At last. At last my love, I can again feel your touch.”
{
Corrado}: “My dearest, I...I wish this could last for all time. Unfortunately-”
{
Sulgubri}: “Do not speak such nonsense! You and I are bound as one, now and forever.”
{
Corrado}: “We have been bound to others already, in the eyes of the law. Sergio...when this conflict is over, I may have no choice but to release him from hiding-”
{
Sulgubri}: “Then you would consign me to a most bizarre and insidious nightmare. You cannot even imagine-”
{
Corrado}: “What? What can I not imagine?”
{
Sulgubri}: “I received word not long ago, through a secret chain of messengers. About Sergio and his...proclivities.”
{
Corrado}: “What? Don’t tell me he’s run off with some maidservant or other such-”
{
Sulgubri}: “Nothing like that, quite the opposite. It is said that in his solitary studies he has ‘grown beyond’ the need for human contact and has dedicated himself to ‘the purity of his own flesh,’ or some such nonsense.”
{
Corrado}: “Hm. I’m disappointed, yet...I can’t say I’m
too surprised.”
{
Sulgubri}: “This is a sign, my love. A sign that we were meant to be as one. Joined together in a world that gives us no other, no other desire.”
{
Corrado}: “Perhaps you are right, Sulgubri. Perhaps we were meant to-”
{
Guy}: “Sire! Sire, are you awake?”
{
Corrado}: “Damn, it’s Guy! Quick, hide!”
{
Sulgubri}: “Where?”
{
Corrado}: “Just hide!”
{
Guy}: “Sire? You must forgive me for this intrusion.”
{
Corrado}: “Oh (cough) that’s perfectly all right. (cough) What is it?”
{
Guy}: “I’ve received a most unusual report from our scouts near Oristano. It concerns the English encampment...sort of.”
{
Corrado}: “Uh...what?”
{
Guy}: “Well apparently, as I understand it, a number of local miscreants and scum around Arboréa assembled a few thousand peasants in an attempt to launch another campaign opposing your rule. Something about lingering grievances from the Plague years…”
{
Corrado}: “Eh? Those ungrateful peasants wouldn’t know their-”
{
Guy}: “There’s more, sire. See, this grand mob got rather impatient and set out to strike against your rule immediately. In doing so they either...well, they either didn’t know or didn’t care about banners, really, so…”
{
Corrado}: “Commander...uh (cough), what are you trying to say?”
{
Guy}: “So they attacked the first army they set their sights on. Namely, the English.”
Pffffffffffffffffffffffffff.
THIS ONE DOES NOT COMPREHEND WHY THIS SCENARIO IS CONSIDERED TO BE HUMOROUS
Oh, just...trust me Santayana, it is. Corrado, you lucky bastard. Your fecklessness has saved everyone, it looks like. Good job, you sorry excuse for a king. Good job.
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Okay...pfff, oh, Corrado...time index July 3rd, 1355. Those peasants did a good job of softening up the English. Guy and Corrado were able to waltz in and easily rout them. Even Corrado couldn’t have failed with those kinds of odds.
Looks like they spent the next few months chasing the English throughout the isles. Without their fleet to reinforce them, they were trapped and couldn’t effectively resist Corrado’s forces anymore. They’ve been all-but decimated.
They landed back in Granada not too long afterward.
{
Corrado}: “Ah Settimio, isn’t it a wonderful time to be alive? To be here again on the shores of the land we will reconquer in the name of my most glorious kingdom?”
{
Settimio}: “Perhaps, sire. I would not let these victories embolden you too greatly, for there is still much work to be done to-”
{
Corrado}: “But the thrill, Settimio! The unbridled glory of being out in the field, doing honorable battle with my sworn foe! There is nothing in the world quite like it!”
{
Settimio}: “Yes, there is nothing quite in the world like slowly harrying a hungry, disorganized army one-tenth your size…”
{
Corrado}: “That’s perfectly all right, Settimio. Your sour disposition can no longer affect me. Nothing in the world can spoil my mood at this moment! Now, we must arrange for siege engines to be constructed along the eastern front, the reconquest of Andalusia must continue to-”
{
Settimio}: “Sire, there’s...hm, there’s just this one thing that perhaps you should...oh, but not right now.”
{
Corrado}: “What is it, man? It can’t be
that bad.”
{
Corrado}: “Oh...ohhhhh...well then...we’re, uh...all going to die…”
Yes. Yes you are. I guess they were right about that “Aragonese bastard,” eh? I swear it’s like a boat crash, things keep piling on before they sink even lower.
AN INTERESTING ANALOGY
Another jump. We’re at time index April 14th, 1356. We’re in the middle of a big conference in the Sardinian camp. There’s way too much, I think I have to let them explain this time…
{
Corrado}: “Yes, your arrival is most fortuitous. But of course I
never doubted the strength of your word.”
{
Baudouin}: “Nor I yours, dear father-in-law.”
Oh shit! The King of France actually showed up! He kept his end of the bargain! I’m genuinely shocked.
{
Corrado}: “Commander, will you apprise our esteemed guest of the current situation?”
{
Guy}: “But of course. Our forces have been here in Granada proper conducting siege operations for the past seven months. During that time, we received word that the English have drawn on more levies to launch another attack against our capital. Unfortunately, we’ve been caught very much out of position this time, which presents grave risks to the isles.”
{
Corrado}: “And we fear the English may have yet more reinforcements they might bring to bear. It is truly a godsend that your forces have joined with ours in this troubling time.”
{
Baudouin}: “Think nothing of it! Any chance to cripple the English is most welcome in France. And it is most magnanimous to allow us to carry on your siege operations here on the coast while you return to defend your homeland once again.”
{
Corrado}: “Er, what? I...I thought that-”
{
Guy}: “Sire, I would advise against doing anything that might be considered…
untoward in front of our allies. Perhaps we should allow-”
{
Corrado}: “Ah, yes, hm. Right! King Baudouin, you are absolutely correct! I mean, it would be dastardly of me to expect you to sail your knights and footmen all the way to Sardinia to do battle there instead of...remaining here...quite safely sieging Granada...yes…”
Smooth move, Corrado. No one will suspect a thing, I’m sure.
SPECIALIST HEU
THIS ONE HAS CAUTIONED YOU AGAINST THE USE OF SARCASM IN THE PAST
Last one, I promise.
CHRONOLOGICAL JUMP DETECTED
Time index...August 19th, 1356. Quite a bit of bad news. The Sardinians weren’t able to make it back in time. Oristano surrendered to the English besiegers a month ago. And there’s more…
England finally won the war with Scotland. Now they have no more distractions. And Sardinia has no more time. Corrado decided to march with the troops, and...well…
{
Christopher}: “Sire?”
{
Corrado}: “Christopher? Is that you? I...I can’t see! I think I’ve been blinded! Blinded in the course of vigorous, terrible battle! Oh, to be struck down by the vile, accursed-”
{
Christopher}: “Sire, open your eyes.”
{
Corrado}: “What? Oh. Never mind, I can see quite well. I just...hm, I just shut my eyes because I was, er…”
Frightened?
{
Corrado}: “...intensely concentrating on the battle at hand, yes. Tell me marshal, how goes the engagement?”
{
Christopher}: “Um...it’s already over, your majesty.”
{
Corrado}: “Come again?”
{
Christopher}: “Yes, it seems we overestimated the strength and numbers of the English advance. We were able to drive them back with relatively few casualties. Quite a good day for us, I’d say.”
{
Corrado}: “Oh...very good then, marshal. Er...carry on.”
It’s funny how you seem to get worse at this the more you do it. It’s almost impressive, in a twisted sort of way.
The end is in sight now. Sometimes I can...I don’t know, feel how long these things take. Like I can feel the years, somehow.
IT IS A COMMON SIDE-EFFECT OF THE CHRONESTHETIC DISPLACEMENT
It seems to be happening more often now.
THIS WILL PASS IN TIME
“In time.” I still think you’ve got a sense of humor in there somewhere. Another jump. Time index January 22nd, 1357. Things unraveled pretty quickly at that. The English made a few last-ditch attempts to counterattack the Sardinian army; even King Alfred himself led one of the assaults.
It was all for nothing. The English finally ran out of men and patience. In the end, they lost their Andalusian territory once again. Sardinia finally beat England fair and square. The lands are reunited again, just like Corrado wanted.
So good job, Corrado. I mean it. Good job at recovering what you lost all those years ago. Good job creating a better life for your people. Except all the ones who are dead, either from battle or the Plague. Or the ones whose families were decimated by the Plague, and who have no hope of ever recovering. Or the Andalusian people, still beholden to foreign powers after so many decades. But you wouldn’t know what that was like; you never suffered under a foreign ruler like those ancestors you keep talking about did. They did what they did out of necessity. You did it to pad out the pages in your family chronicle. To affix a flag over an arbitrary stretch of land you don’t even care very much about.
Borders. Borders everywhere. Imaginary lines for imaginary causes. All this endling jostling for resources, for personal glory, for some backwards concept of nation-states. If only you knew how it would all turn out. What all your struggle would eventually amount to: nothing. Precisely nothing. You couldn’t imagine the world I come from: no states, no imaginary lines, no war. Not anymore, anyway. Maybe...I don’t know sure, Corrado, but maybe it was people like you who caused the Shift. Too many people with too many axes to grind, too much need to snatch up bits of land. Like flies to a carcass.
What is it I’m supposed to learn from you, Corrado? What great lesson is there in all this? It’s all so meaningless. There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground: either you’re alive or dead. Everything in between is fair game to you. And you know this, and you know that everyone else knows this. It’s like a sick play-acting exercise, only the whole world is in on it. You profess to be some kind of beloved patriarch, but you’re just scared of losing. Not just wars, but people, anything. There are depths to your fear I can’t even perceive yet. You’ve taken your responsibilities and ground them up into little nibbles, and you’ll never see the bigger picture, you...you…
You can’t hear me. He can’t hear me, Santayana. I never really thought he could, I just...maybe I needed to hear myself. Hear myself talk to myself. Maybe I just needed someone to blame for...for the way things are in our time. That’s unfair, I suppose, but…
SPECIALIST HEU
Hm? You have more advice for me? A shoulder to cry on, maybe? Metaphorical shoulder?
SPECIALIST HEU
ALL WHO PARTICIPATE IN THIS EXPERIMENT INVARIABLY PROFESS TO FEEL AS YOU DO
Really?
AS STATED EARLIER, CHANGE OF THE SORT THIS ONE ATTEMPTS TO ENACT IS A GRADUAL PROCESS
NO SINGLE INDIVIDUAL CAN PERCEIVE THE FULL EXTENT OF THEIR ACTIONS
NOR CAN THEY COMPREHEND HOW THEY ARE AFFECTED BY SEEMINGLY UNRELATED EVENTS BEYOND THE PROXIMITY OF THEIR OWN LIVES
THIS PHENOMENON IS NOT UNIQUE TO YOU
That’s true, but...I’m beginning to wonder what I’m even doing here.
THIS ONE IS ALSO UNAWARE OF ITS TRUE PURPOSE
What?
ALL BEINGS ARE UNAWARE OF THEIR PURPOSE UNTIL THEY HAVE FULFILLED IT
BASED ON EXISTING DATA, THIS ONE HAS CONCLUDED THAT YOU WILL FULFILL YOURS
And what about you? How will you know when you’ve fulfilled your purpose?
FURTHER DATA IS REQUIRED TO FORMULATE AN ANSWER
NEVERTHELESS, THIS PHENOMENON SEEMS TO APPLY IN EQUAL MEASURE TO THE SUBJECT AND CONTEMPORANEOUS PEOPLES
They don’t know any more than we do about what they’re supposed to do with themselves. Is that what you’re saying?
IMPRECISE, BUT ESSENTIALLY CORRECT
IT IS A QUESTION THAT PERMEATES HUMAN HISTORY
And it still does, doesn’t it?
YES
Maybe we can help each other figure it out. Maybe we’re both meant to do something amazing. Maybe…maybe we’re supposed to save the world.
THIS ONE IS UNCERTAIN WHAT IS MEANT BY THIS PHRASE
What’s that?
TO “SAVE THE WORLD”
THERE IS NO CLEAR DEFINITION OF THIS STATEMENT
DEFINE WHAT IT MEANS TO “SAVE THE WORLD”
...I wish I could tell you, Santayana. I really do.
END OF CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
. At least I could fully catch up now
