Prince of Peace 20
Loxley, December, 1219
Robin Fitz Odo [59] stared at the most beautiful sight in all creation.
It was Marion, daughter of one of the more prosperous burghers of
Birmingham. He thought to himself of what he could say to her, that would
impress her. Something along the lines of "Now I know when Emperor Henry
prayed in Jerusalem to God, celebrating the wonders of creation."
What came out was the, essentially, "Goo-ood afternoon." Marion laughed, but
failed to come up with a better response. It was, truly, love at first
sight.
Robert's family was amongst the more prosperous in England at the time.
Descendents of the Norman conquerors, the family had prospered, and had made
a prosperous living selling sheep. Robert's parents had passed away before
then, but he knew what to do. His family's estate had managed to come out
well during the Emperor's war in 1214, and now Robert was old enough to
marry.
It was one of those rare instances when the family's interests meshed with
the relationship between the two to be wed. For Robert and Marion, it was
true love, something more often spoke of than truly seen.
They would be wed near Easter of 1220, and she would be carrying Robert's
child when the unthinkable happened.
Loxley, August, 1220
Ludwig of Mainz coughed and cursed the fates. By God, what he done to be
sent to such a place as this? Why was he the sheriff here and not in a
decent town?
Oh, sure, Eberhard of Waldburg, Frederick's Imperial viceroy, was angry at
him for his attitude towards the people of Plymouth in his brief reign
there. But wasn't he entitled to make a little money? He was only trying to
benefit a little from service to the Emperor, and it was hardly his fault
that the merchants had refused to pay him to defend their property. But no,
Eberhard hadn't seen it that way; he'd almost imprisoned Ludwig, for doing
nothing but doing a little bit of business.
Ludwig took another sip of the beer. God, even the beer was like horsepiss
compared to the stuff back home. He took another swig.
About a dozen swigs later, he saw a fine girl walking down the street. The
English women, say what you would about them, were better than nothing. "How
about a try with a real man?"
The woman raised her head and walked on. That, thought Ludwig, was no way to
behave to the King and Emperor's sheriff. "Oh, come on, if you'll go for any
one of the men here for a pence you shouldn't mind going with me!" He
gestured to his guards, who followed behind him.
Marion started picking up her pace. She shouldn't have left home without the
servants, but she had merely gone to the church. She walked faster, and
felt a hand press down on her shoulder.
"Oh, come here now," said the German, who smacked her onto the ground. She
kicked him, hard.
Wheezing, he ordered a command to one of the Emperor's men in German. The
blade cut through her belly, slicing her in two.
When Robin heard of the news, he galloped towards the town. He passed
through the gates, and looked upon his wife. Her stomach was cut open, and
she was barely breathing. Robin got off his horse, and cradled her in his
harms. Marion, with her last breath, whispered something to Robin.
What it was no one would ever know, and the only other person who may have
known, the town's priest, took that secret with him to his grave.
Robin, infuriated, rode out of the town. Men were sent by his lands the next
day, but not even the serfs had known what had happened to him.
A week later, the sheriff also disappeared. A bandit rode up to the walls of
the town with his head the day after that. He tossed up to the men on the
wall.
"This," he cried, "is but the beginning. When I am done, the heads of the
Emperor's servants will litter England from Northumberland to Plymouth."
One of the men on the wall called out to the brigand. "Who are you to dare
insult the King and Emperor in such a manner? We wish to know who we will
slay."
The bandit called out from behind the hood he wore. "I am Robin of Loxley,
and for slaying my maid Marion, you will all die."
Stratford Forest, July, 1222
Northumberland was one of the few places in England to not welcome the new
king; its barons were too restless, it's people, trained to defend the
marches against the Welsh and Scots, were too independent. But now a convoy
had been sighted moving between Birmingham and Stratford. To that end, the
heaviest deployment of German troops were in those areas, and movements of
weapons and supplies were always guarded.
Robin had been hiding in the forest for two years now, stealing from the tax
collectors and using the money to fund his rebels and the villagers who
supported him. Robin had fifty men with him now [60], against the one
hundred and eighty that escorted the convoy.
To block them, Robin had constructed a wall of timber constructed across the
track, as if the trees had fallen in a storm, leaving just enough room for
one rider at a time. As the Germans tried to pass through, Robin's men leapt
from cover and attacked in close order.
Robin had realized that in the forests of the north, knights were not the
effective weapon. Spears, knives, swords and bows could prove devastating to
trapped men on horseback; and they were again here.
Robin, as always, wore the hood that he wore when he first tossed up the
Sheriff's head upon the walls of Loxley. It had, he was told, earned him the
name Robin of the Hood. Robin didn't care. He would wear it until the
Emperor's troops were gone from England, or until he was dead. He raised
his hand, and gave the signal.
Robin Fitz Odo's men fell upon the Germans on horse, slaying over a hundred
of them. The remainder fled back to Birmingham, riding so fast that in local
legend it is said that the men's horses did not stop running until they hit
the Irish sea.
Robin's men cheered as the knights rode away. The men began rummaging
through the wagons, finding wine, arrows, armor, and swords. A good haul,
thought Robin, as he opened a cask of wine for the men.
"Let's hear it for Robin of the Hood!" cried out John of Warwick, another
man disaffected with Eberhard's and the Emperor's hold on England.
"Robin Hood! Robin Hood!"
Stratford Forest, October, 1223
Joseph of Southampton looked at the stream and yet again wondered why no one
had bothered to repair the bridge. It had evidently decayed some time ago.
He shrugged and started walking along the river. If God had wanted him to
cross there, he would have.
As he trudged along, he heard a sound in the bushes. Joseph called out, "Oh,
don't worry. I'm merely a monk spreading the word of our Father in heaven,
and have little worth stealing."
Out of the woods stepped a man in a cloak, armor, and with a rather large
bow with an arrow notched.
"Ah," said the figure," that's not quite what I need. I'm trying to get
across the river in a hurry, and have no desire to get my armor soaking wet.
So," he said, drawing the bow, if you don't mind taking me across."
Joseph sighed. "Oh, very well. Get on my shoulders." The bandit did, and
Joseph carried him across the river.
When they reached the other side, the bandit put his equipment down, and
bowed. "I thank you for your help." He turned to walk off.
Joseph drew his sword. "Alright," he said, "Now you will carry me back
across." The smug look on the bandit's face quickly disappeared.
"But I am in a hurry. The Sheriff's men are on the other side, and they are
hunting for me," said the man, who took off his hood.
"I do not care," said John. "You probably deserve it for your thefts from
the people of this land. Shame on you for stealing like this, when Robin of
the Hood is fighting against the Emperor's lackeys." He took another look at
the man in the hood, and prostrated himself before him.
"My lord! It is you! You are Robin Hood! It is a miracle!"
Robin Hood looked at Joseph again, perplexed. "I think you had best come
with me." Robin led Joseph back to his camp.
While they walked, Robin apologized to Joseph. "Forgive me, I thought you
were one of the clergy from the Empire, brought over to suck the wealth out
of England's churches." He stared in awe at Joseph. "You are truly the
Joseph? The one who proved that England is superior to the Empire, and that
the Emperorb has no right to be here?"
Joseph bowed his head. "Well, yes. But it is men such as you who will make
that happen."
It was, frankly, a rather large camp; there were almost fifty men there, and
Robin told Joseph that there were another hundred men scattered across the
north of England, fighting the Emperor's men.
Joseph stared. "My Lord, is it as I hoped. You are our Aeneas, to help us
restore the glories of Troy and Britannia."
Robin stared at Joseph. "I am just a knight. Why would the barons follow
me?"
Joseph looked around. "They will not. Oh, aye, maybe some of them will; the
northern ones, perhaps. But you do not need them." Joseph pointed about the
camp. "The men do not care that you are a knight. They follow you because
you are one of the few who will not do homage to Frederick."
"But who will I fight for?" Robin asked asked. "The King's heir is in
Nuremberg, being encouraged by Frederick to live a reckless life of drinking
and hunting. Eleanor is but a child. Who can we fight for?"
"Fight," said Joseph, "for Arthur, and for England."
By end of 1223, the banner of the red dragon of Arthur (the true Arthur, not
Arthur Plantagenet) would once again be seen in England, ready to do battle
with the Imperial Eagle.
Birmingham, October, 1223
When Frederick had invaded England, he had set up a series of fortifications
and towers, so that he could control the roads of the country. Frederick's
men used their towers to enforce the king's peace, keep a watch on the
nobles, and ensure that the tribute continued to flow.
One such tower had been built a ere five miles east of Birmingham. Robin's
decision to attack it was a bold one, for Birmingham was heavily garrisoned,
and the moment news of the attack reached the city, a chase was inevitable.
Robin had therefore sent men to scout out the land. His men returned to
report that the gates were open, and that a number of laborers were freely
passing in and out [61]. So secure did Frederick's men feel that the guard
was asleep at his post.
Robin Hood advanced at once with sixty men. The commander of the garrison
stumbled out with his men, and the thirty of them were killed in the ensuing
fight. Their wives and children were allowed to leave unharmed, but plunder,
including the taxes on merchants, were carried off.
Word of the attack spread across the countryside. A young knight who had
sworn revenge against the Emperor for an attack on his loved one had taken
one of the king's fortifications! How could word not spread?
Meanwhile, Robin continued his progress, crossing northern England and
killing the King's troops without mercy, as well as some of the soldiers of
the king's collaborators.
Near Nottingham, he came upon the train of the Earl of Hungtingdon, who was
returning home with gifts he had received from the Emperor when he had
visited Nuremberg. Robin's men concealed themselves in the woods and waited
for the Earl to pass by. They dispatched the guards on the train, and the
Earl's men fled to his castle. But so close behind were Robin's men that
they entered the earl's castle, and killed the defenders. The Earl of
Huntingdon galloped away for reinforcements while his castle burned.
By this point the news of the attack had reached the other garrisons nearby,
and the Earl was confident that he would overtake them. Dividing his
soldiers into six companies, he ordered five of them to surround the woods
where Robin had fled with his men. The sixth company advanced with the Earl
into the woods.
Robin meanwhile had set up a strong position, with three walls consisting of
trees laid crosswise, with one side open to escape. It was during the battle
with the Earl that Robin was shot in leg by an English arrow. Robin's men
beat the Earl's men back, but they were forced to scatter. By evening, Robin
had escaped, but he was in great pain and suffering from loss of blood.
Yet again fate intervened. Wallace knocked on the door of a cottage for
help, and was greeted by a widow. The widow stared at the man at her door.
He was clearly an outlaw who had fought the Emperor's men. Had she turned
him in, she would have ended her days in comfort and wealth.
Instead she tended his wounds, fed him, and helped him hide. History does
not record her name, but had this woman acted differently, England may have
never rebelled against the Emperor.
Meanwhile, Robin and two of his men, John of Warwick and William of Beford,
fled towards Birmingham, where they wee hidden by Robin's relatives. There
he hid, and gathered enough supporters to raise more than a band. He began
to raise an army. By May he had a thousand men under his banner.
May, Nottingham, 1224
It was Robin's intention to attack the castle of Nottingham. Nottingham was
a strategically important site; it was part of Frederick's demesne in
England, and was a regional arsenal and treasury. Lacking siege equipment,
Robin needed a plan. He decided to go to mass near the castle to receive
inspiration from God.
While Robin was praying, some of the Emperor's troops arrived at the church,
and decided to play a joke. They cut the tails off of the horses of Robin,
John, and William. Robin heard the noise and he and his friends rushed out
and put the Emperor's troops to the sword.
The Imperial troops chased after them, but Robin led them to the encampment
of his army, where they were all killed. He then ran back and boasted,
before the walls of the castle, that a mere ten Englishmen had killed thirty
Germans.
The castle's commander was infuriated. He sent his entire garrison out after
Robin and his men, and yet again Robin was chased. Yet again Robin's men
slew the entire garrison, including its commander.
Robin then took some of the Imperial heraldry, and he and several other men
wore it, and raced to the castle. Calling for the castle to open the gates,
they rushed in, and then slew the few men who had not gone out to chase him
down, who realized, too late, that they were not dealing with their comrades
in arms. By the end of the day, the pennants of Arthur Pendragon flew from
the walls of the castle.
The revolt of Robin of Loxley began.
London, June, 1224
"I have had enough!" cried Eberhard, the Imperial viceroy in England. "This
has gone beyond outlaws ravaging the countryside. An assault on the Emperor'
s castle is an assault on the Emperor, and an assault on the Emperor is an
assault against God."
"But, my Lord," said one of the English servants, "surely you are
overreacting? He is only one man."
"He must have the support of the barons of the north and the people of the
north if he can take Nottingham. They will be fined for this, and heavily."
Eberhard got up from the table. "Assemble the troops, and call out the
levies. We march on Nottingham."
Nottingham, July, 1224
Hubert de Brugh had seen much. He had fought beside Richard the Great
(Despite what the Emperor said) in Egypt, where he had seen the majesty of
the pyramids. He had desperately tried to save England and France from
Arthur and Frederick, and had seen how the king had failed them all. He had
done homage to Frederick, but wondered how he could. The man had conquered
England, and too many barons had gone along with it.
Now he rode to meet Robin of Loxley. He was but a knight, but he fought the
Germans. Hubert would rather not have gone to war with a lowly knight, but
over the years he had done many things he would rather not have done.
If it would let him defeat the Germans, Hubert would invite the Saracens
into England.
Nottingham had surprised him. He had expected a mere bandit, but Robin was
wielding a force together. They were training with bows, and the use of long
spears. They probably wouldn't be able to defeat heavy cavalry dead on, but
Robin's men could certainly cause a good deal of trouble.
"I must know," said Robin, "why you are joining us."
Hubert's eyes looked off into the distance. He thought of young Henry, a
prisoner in Nuremberg. Of John, who had been kicked into the ground by
Frederick. He thought of all that had happened over the past few years.
"Let's just say that you're not the only one in England who owes Frederick a
thing or two."
Robin looked about. "But who else will join us?"
Robert thought about it. "The Earl of Albemarle is tied to me by blood, and
he's angry at the viceroy's attitude as well. So are many of the northern
city's, who are supposed to be fined for supporting outlaws and traitors."
Robin was rather taken aback. "If so many are angry at the Emperor, why did
none act before now?"
Robert shook his head. "Oh, lad, you're still too young to understand. Men
only fight when they think they can win, or they think it's fight or die.
How could they hope to oppose the Lord Emperor, ruler from Jerusalem to
Ireland? Don't forget too that he can give them lands in Aquitane in
exchange for being loyal; his stepdaughter is the official ruler there, and
he is her regent."
"And who will rule England when we are done? You can wave the flag of Arthur
all you like, but you have to admit you don't know how to rule a country,
and you can't set yourself up as king. I'm afraid we'll have to figure that
out, as well."
Robin took the words in, and thought about it Could they have a kingdom
without a king?
"You know," said Robin, "Eberhard will march north this year. He's probably
playing this down to Frederick, just treating it as another revolt in the
north. That means if we move quickly, we can defeat him and rally the rest
of the country. Frederick will be faced with invading England again. "
"Ah, now", said Robert. "First you have to figure out how to defeat
Eberhard."
Statford, October, 1224
The army of Eberhard was stupendous. The Imperial knights' armor glittered
in the sun, and their banners were like a forest. Against that Robin had a
much smaller force of horse, some archers [63], and his men armed with the
pikes they had used. In according with custom, Eberhard had sent priests to
induce Robin and Burgh to yield.
The men were rattling off offers of land and remission for past offenses.
Robin interrupted them. "Take this back for your answer. We are not here to
sue for peace, but are ready to fight for the freedom of our country. Let
your men come on when they please."
Eberhard, for his part, wanted to be home. He was fed up with England. You
give them a bit of leeway and they rise up in revolt against you. Sometimes
he thought the Emperor shouldn't just settle good German families here. He
looked at the bridge, and nodded. Once they crossed that, they could defeat
this Robin's rabble.
Robin's men waited for the German to begin crossing the bridge, and, when
enough of the Germans and their allies in England had crossed, a horn was
heard.
"On them! On them!" cried Robin, who led a force towards the bridge. His
force managed to seize the bridge, cutting off Eberhard and the advance
forces.
"Do not do this! You will merely cause the Emperor to subdue you again"
cried Eberhard, as he swung his blade. "We know you must be aware of what
this will lead to. We have trust in your wisdom."
Robin looked at him, burning with hatred. It was a man like this who had
killed Marion. He swung his sword and cut off Eberhard's head.
"So do I."
At this point, the English barons who were with the Emperor's troops on the
other side of the river began to attack them. The Imperial forces broke, and
fled. They were chased so far that the entire garrison in Northampton fled,
and by the end of the year, all of the north was in the hands of Robin and
the "English" barons.
Coventry, November, 1224
Robin sighed as he read the reports. The nobles were restless, and were
beginning to act as if their only king was chaos. Something had to be done.
He heard a knock at the door, and a man stepped in. "My name," he said, "is
Hoff. Douglas of Hoff. I have come with a weapon to help you defeat the
Emperor."
[59] Robin Fitz Odo is based on a rather questionable character in English
history, Robert Fitz Odo, a knight from Loxley. He may have died in 1196,
but shows up gain in 1203 in documents, so consider this his son.
[60] These fifty men would be remembered in the chronicles of Joseph of
Southampton, whose biography of Robin of Fitz Odo would give future
historians a look at the growth of the rebellion.
[61] A tower at this point is not the same thing as a tower of our time; it'
s more like the tower of London, a poor man's fort.
[63] Not longbowmen, unfortunately. Those will not be in England until after
the Welsh wars.
Prince of Peace 21
"It is more honorable to be raised to a throne than to be born to one.
Fortune bestows the one, merit obtains the other."- Francesco Petrarca
Jerusalem, May, 1224
Constantine sighed as he walked through his palace in Jerusalem. For the
Kingdom of God, Jerusalem was certainly a decadent place. They lived in the
land which Jesus had walked, and yet they would gladly sell their wives for
a few ducats. It was as if they were Greek!
And Egypt. by God, it was a vassal of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but it was
like, like, "the tail wagging the dog."
"What, my lord?" said John, his royal chamberlain.
Constantine grunted. "Egypt. Their damn canal of theirs is completed, isn't
it?"
John nodded. "Aye. The Pisans have sent out a squadron to the East." He
spoke with awe in his voice. "Perhaps they will find Prester John's
Kingdom."
Constantine shook his head. Didn't anyone else realize that the kingdom kept
on shifting east? God, there was no way there could be a Christian ruler
beyond the Muslims.
" I believe it was God's will that we should come back, so that men might
know the things that are in the world, since, as we have said in the first
chapter of this book, no other man, Christian or Saracen, Mongol or pagan,
has explored so much of the world as Ludovico Terelli, son of Messer Marco
Terelli, great and noble citizen of the city of Pisa ."
Ethiopia, October, 1224
Ludovico inhaled the air. To think that he was the first Pisan to ever
travel to this distant land!
He was the commander of the Pisan fleet, which had been sent out from the
city in 1224. He had sailed through the red sea, which was slow going, but
could be rowed, and the currents could favor one.
They were sailing to Ethiopia, with which the Kingdom of Egypt had had
contacts, to open up trade. Who knew what this distant land held?
They approached the shore slowly, and cautiously. It was unfortunate that
they had not brought some one who knew the language of the Ethiopes, but it
could not be helped. He could only assume that they knew Arabic.
He began speaking in Arabic. "Greetings, friends. We, citizens of the
Chrisitan city of Pisa, come to you from north of Egypt! The mighty King and
our city have joined together to build a canal, and we come to trade and
offer gifts to your king, who is?"
There was a bit of commotion on the part of the Ethiopians, who were a bit
perplexed. Slowly, one of them spoke. "Greetings. Our king is called Yodit,
and he will rejoice to hear of Christian traders in our lands." Ludovico,
however, heard the king's name as Yoda, and it was as Yoda that the King
would be known to the west.
"Excellent," said Ludovico. "Let us go to meet Yoda." The Pisans set off
through the land of Ethiopia, under the Zagwe dynasty, to the capital at
Adafa (Lalibela). [72]
Adafa was a city of marvels. So mighty were the kings of Ethiopia that the
churches themselves were carved of stone. They were testaments to the glory
of God, and would, thought Ludovico, be there until judgment.
Finally they were taken to see Yoda himself. They prostrated themselves
before him as they would before the Emperor or the king of the Greeks. Yoda
gestured to them to sit before him.
"Greetings to you. Traders from the north you are?" he said, smiling. "Latin
I learned from traders. Speak it well I do?" Ludovico was a bit unsure of
how to act. For a mighty king, Yoda was. well, short.
"Yes, your majesty. I am from the city of Pisa, and we hope to trade with
you and with others to the east. We seek a port, as well."
Yoda smiled at them. "Talk of commerce later. Gifts from myself you must
have!" Yoda clapped, and out came gifts of stunning majesty. Ivory from the
south; gold from the kingdom; horns from an animal that was like an
elephant, but different, with a long horn.
And two crops, both of which would become fairly popular in Europe. The
first was qat.
"Try it you must," said Yoda, as he ate some. "Let it flow through you."
Ludovico bit a piece, and chewed. A bit unpleasant, he thought. After a few
minutes, he felt oddly. at piece.
"You know," said Ludovico, "I could see people buying this."
Yoda grinned. "Ah, enjoy it you do. Happy that makes me." Yoda clapped, and
servants brought in cups containing a strange, dark fluid.
"Drink! Drink!" said Yoda, smiling. "We make it from berries which grow high
in the mountains. Dangerous to reach they are." Yoda took another sip.
"Enjoy this also?"
Ludovico sipped it. It was very. stimulating, which caused an odd effect
with qat. He thought. It would be useful to people who sought to be kept
awake, and they could always say it had medicinal properties.
"Your excellency," said Ludovico, "I believe we will have a great deal of
business to do." [73]
Ludovico's men eventually set up a trading station which they christen
Ranieri [74], and he sets forth to the east.
Ceylon, July, 1225
Kalinga Magga was a rather nervous man. Ceylon was not an easy island to
rule, after all. It was under threat from the Tamils to the north, and his
people were in trouble. The Pandyans of southern India were always licking
their lips, thinking about invading. As a Buddhist, he was considered
something of an outsider by the rulers of southern India, and by the Tamils.
Now these foreigners had come to his kingdom, saying they were from a realm
almost larger than Ceylon itself. To trade, they said. Their weapons were
very fine, although their clothes were not that impressive, and they seemed
to suffer in the heat. But what of it? They brought gold, and they sought
cinnamon, as if it was the rarest thing on Earth.
Kalinga wondered, for a second, just what the traders told people to the
west. No matter. He shrugged. First he would impress the foreigners, and
then he would get down to business.
Ludovico was waiting in the courtyard, with some of his men. They were
conversing in Arabic, which, given the fact that the hoped to break the Arab
monopoly, was an irony. He heard a sound like a horn, and looked up to see a
white elephant, studded with rubies, tramp in, bearing the king of Taprobane
on top of it.
Ludovico stared in awe. Taprobane was a place of majesty and marvels. The
men and women wore only clothes to cover themselves, due to the heat. The
people here fished for pearls, diving deep into the sea to take them. The
king of Taprobane [75] was stupendously wealthy, obviously. Even a common
peasant wore rubies!
Ludovico bowed before the king. "My heart rejoices that we have met a people
whose king is as wise and farsighted as you. Your kingdom is truly a
marvel."
The king made a great ceremony of getting off of the elephant, and sat down
before Ludovico. He called for his servants, and a saucer made of ruby, as
large as the king's palm, was brought in. He then daubed himself in aloe,
and when he saw Ludovico's stare, he smiled and said, "Is something the
matter?"
Now, Ludovico was a merchant. He knew not to be impressed by any parlor
trick of some pagan, so he merely said, calmly, "that is a rather large
ruby."
"Oh," said Kalinga. "We have rubies larger than this." The king clapped, and
a large ruby was brought in. "Take this as a gift for yourself."
Ludovico knew how the game was played. "Oh, my king," he said, "let me
present you with gifts from my land. Fine weapons," he said, displaying
blades from Damascus and Milan. "Gold from the mines of my country," he
said, giving him crosses made of gold. "And finally," he said, "robes of
purple silk from Constantinople, a city whose majesty is heard of even in
this land."
Kalinga was suitably impressed. "I do believe you will enjoy our fair land,"
he said.
Months later, Ludovico had finished establishing a factory for Pisa in
Colombo. His ships, burdened with pearls, cinnamon, ivory, and coffee beans,
set off towards home.
He had roasted some of the beans from Ethiopia to preserve them, and took a
sip of a drink containing the fluid from them, ice, and cinnamon. Not bad,
he thought. Looking East, towards lands of which he could only dream beyond
Taprobane, he smiled.
Not bad at all.
Egypt, July, 1225
Hugh sighed as his female servants bathed him in hot water. This was, he
thought, the life. Gold, comforts, and more gold. It was good to be the
king.
He only had a few problems. First of all, men. Oh, he could run Egypt well
enough, but soldiers were a problem. If only he could find some way to get
more men.
As one of the girls rubbed his back, Hugh had a thought. Like all of his
staff, she spoke French, so he knew she understood her. "You were bought by
my household, were you not?"
The girl nodded. "Yes, my king." She looked away as she continued to rub the
king's back.
He wondered. Could he buy slaves and turn them into soldiers? Something to
look into, tomorrow, he decided, as he focused on matters at hand.
The next day, he checked with the head of his household, a Copt named Aziz.
"Of course we could buy children who were slaves," said Aziz. "But my king,
you cannot enslave Christians!"
Hugh shrugged. "So buy pagans or Mohammedans. Or maybe some Ethiopes. Plenty
of them, eh?"
Aziz bowed. "Let it be as you say." The first slave warriors of the Kingdom
of Egypt would fight in 1230.
[72] Thanks to the weakening of the Muslims by the Crusade to take Egypt,
Ethiopians have been able to gain control of some stretches of the coast
again.
[73] Unfortunately, in Europe, the drink will be named after the city which
discovered it. Pisa will gradually be corrupted to the point that in London,
the drink will be known as Pizza.
[74] Located near OTL's Djibouti, actually.
[75] Roughly, it's a corruption of Sanskrit for "copper leaves", or
cinnamon.
Prince of Peace 22
"Two houses, both alike in dignity..."-Romeo and Juliet
Nuremberg, July, 1225
Charles was only sixteen years old, and the prince of a considerably reduced
France. He had been told since he could crawl that he was the new
Charlemagne, the heir to the glory of France, who would bring the Capetian
realm back into the center of Christendom, and end its vassalage to the
King of Germany [76].
To do that, he was told, he would destroy the Duchy of Aquitaine, and break
the Duchess Eleanor. He had been raised in the belief that she was a witch,
who, if she did not drink the blood of her peasants, came close enough.
Which is why, as Charles sat down next to her at a feast held in honor of
the Emperor's receipt of homage from the king of Hungary, it was so striking
to Charles that Eleanor was, without a doubt, stunning. She sat clad in a
rode of Lucca silk, with a mantle of Indian silk lined with ermine,
radiating beauty.
Charles had come to Nuremberg on behalf of his father, to apologize for the
fact that the tribute was late. He had hoped to see the marvels of the city
as well, glories that even Paris had nothing to compare with it.
Looking at Eleanor, he could see that Paris did indeed have nothing to
compare with Nuremberg. He leaned over to her, and said, "If God creates a
set of rules to order the universe by, can he create a set of rules that he
cannot break?"[77]
Eleanor looked up from her part of the suckling pig and stared at him. "That
depends on if he wants to break them, doesn't it? So the question is, does
God wish to create a set of rules that he cannot break, bearing in mind that
if he wished to, he could break them at any time? God is truth, so it
follows that he cannot contradict himself, but does this not set restraints
upon him?"
Eleanor sipped from some more wine. "Not at all, we know from our studies
that as God is perfect he cannot change, he will not change, and this is
part of His Divine Nature, and so since God is truth it follows that he has
sworn to abide by the laws of logic, since logic is truth. So yes, if God
has created a set of rules, and because he is the one that made the rules he
cannot, will not, break them or violate them."
"What?" said Charles.
Eleanor took a sip of her wine. "Exactly." She paused for a moment, and
stared. "you're Charles, the prince of France, aren't you?"
He nodded. "I would say something to praise your beauty, but the sight of
you has made me forget what I was going to say."
Eleanor smirked. "It may work on your wenches, but that won't work on me."
Charles blinked. "I can assure you, I have no such interest!"
Eleanor smiled. "Pity. I was hoping that you weren't like one of the Greek
princes, in that respect." Eleanor thought that perhaps she had gone a bit
too far, which had always been her problem. She just could not stand the
idea that she was supposed to marry whoever the Emperor told her. Just
because she was a woman, and he was her stepfather, was no reason that she
should listen to him.
Frederick wanted Eleanor to marry some local lord in Aquitaine, or one of
the German lords, to cement his rule there. Eleanor, however, had no
intention of listening to him unless she agreed. She was furious at
Frederick for parceling out her inheritance to loyalists in England or to
vassals in the Empire, like it was his. Of course, she acknowledged, she may
have been biased. She could never stand men telling her what to do.
Much like her namesake, in that respect.
There was a bit of a silence, and then Charles laughed. "My lady, I would
gladly take Jerusalem for you, or recover the True Cross, but since both
have been accomplished, know that you have only to ask, and I will do as you
command."
Bolougne, May, 1226
Louis cheered. "By God!" he cried. "At last, our time has come! England lies
in chaos, awaiting a king. " He inhaled deeply, smelling the sea air.
Across this lay England, his land. It had cost him much, but he had finally
built ships to cross. He had supporters across the channel, he knew. If he
could just cross, he would have England. Frederick could not be expecting
this.
Just then, he heard a messenger galloping towards him. As he was about to
find out, Frederick had been expecting it. Indeed, some would wonder if this
had been his plan all along.
Frederick had an army (conveniently, according to him) preparing to invade
England deployed in Hainault. Declaring Louis to be a traitor to the Empire
and to God, his army had marched through the county of Champagne, gaining
support from the Count, who transferred his allegiance directly to the
Empire. The Count, Thibaud, who had been hiring large numbers of mercenaries
before Frederick invaded, joined Frederick in a march on Paris.
Thibaud, promised in return for his support a land connection between Blois
and Champagne and to be the Imperial viceroy in France, joined the army of
Frederick, which swept towards Paris. Frederick easily defeated the army of
Louis, killing the king, in Ile de France in November, and settled down for
a winter siege of Paris.
Charles, son of Louis, King of France, excommunicated by the Pope, a rebel
against the Emperor, fled west, where a different person, with her own
reasons, also defied the Emperor.
Bordeaux, March, 1226
"No," said Eleanor.
"What was that?" replied the Emperor's delegate. Eleanor wondered if he was
going deaf or simply could not believe some one would say no.
"No. I will not marry Thibaud. He is old enough to marry my mother, and he
would only seek to use me for my lands. I will not bind myself to my Lord
Emperor's latest puppet."
"You risk the wrath of the Emperor. He will be gravely displeased with you,"
the emissary said.
"Good," replied Eleanor, as she folded her arms. "I am rather displeased
with him right now."
"We could tangle spiders in the webs he weaves."-Eleanor of Aquitaine on
Frederick II
Paris, June, 1226
"People of Paris!" cried a herald. "Behold, your Lord Emperor has come!"
Frederick inhaled. He knew that he had to make a good first impression. "Peo
ple of Paris! Your former King Louis had led you astray from the path of
God. I, your Lord Emperor, shall take you under my wing." There was a
muttering in the crowd. "Fear not. I will respect the rights of your city
and people. I will even give Paris a charter that grants it the rights it
has long sought."
There was more muttering in the crowd. "What of our King Charles?" cried a
voice.
Frederick shrugged. "Although of course he can not be king of France after
his treacherous act, I will show mercy on him. I seek only peace for
Christendom."
"What of the king?" the woman cried again. "What of the king?" Soon the mob
took it up as a chant, and then took up a better cry.
"We want the King! We want the King!" One of the members of the mob pelted
the Emperor with something that looked like mud but wasn't.
"I order you to disperse!" he demanded. The mob then threw a stone, which
almost hit the Emperor's head. He dropped his hand, and the Imperial and
French knights loyal to the Emperor ran through the crowd. Armored, on
horseback, they cut through the crowd, trampling them, crushing skulls, and
forcing the rest away. The knights did not end until they were exhausted
from the slaughter.
Several days later, a woman was brought before Frederick, the one who had
supposedly started the riot. She was an old woman, from a family of tailors.
Frederick stared at her in a mix of disgust and surprise. "What made you
attack your Emperor?" he demanded.
The woman spat. "What made me attack you? Better, what made you attack us?
My daughter was raped by English soldiers in a church when they took the
city. My husband was killed in the Vesper rising. I may be a simple woman
from Burgundy, but I know what is right. I knew what was right when my
daughter was raped, and I know what is right now."
Frederick walked out. "Put her back on the streets," he told the guards.
"She's just an old, beaten woman."
Orleans, July, 1226
Charles looked at the reports. Frederick had transferred the County of
Toulouse to the Kingdom of Aragon, not just to the king; now it was,
according to him, part of Aragon. The Emperor had left Thibaud in charge as
his regent, to digest the conquests.
The one odd thing, really, was that there were no forces from Aquitaine,
Brittany, or even Normandy attacking his realm. He wondered why.
Bordeaux, September, 1226
"No, mother," said Eleanor. "I will not send my armies against Charles."
Maria stared at her, almost imploring. "But my dear," she said. "Think of
what that means. You would be in rebellion against the Emperor. Already many
think you are a traitor because of your unwillingness to marry the man that
the Emperor has ordered you to."
Eleanor tossed her hair back. "Why should I? What harm has Charles, or even
Louis, done to me? They new that they could not make me submit to them, and
I never hoped to rule Paris. This is merely Frederick's hope to reunite the
realms of Charlemagne. I say no."
Maria looked as if she was about to weep. "My child, please. Do you wish for
Frederick to send the Inquisition after you? No one escapes the Holy
Inquisition! They will claim you are a heretic, and find some one who says
you are, and your rebellion against Frederick confirms it. Your lands will
be forfeit."
Eleanor laughed. "The Italians escaped. If I have to resort to the same
means that they did, I will."
Maria looked at her one last time, and left. She would never see her
daughter again.
Bordeaux, December, 1226
Eleanor was still lying in bed when she heard the commotion below her
castle. One of her handmaidens came running in.
"My lady," she said. "The Inquisition has arrived, on behalf of the Pope.
They wish to deport you to Nuremberg."
Eleanor shot up. "WHAT?" she roared. "How dare they?"
The handmaiden blinked. "Yes, well, umm, they dare. The Emperor has
supported it as well, and apparently they seek to get you to a nunnery."
"Fornicate the Emperor, and the Pope." Eleanor grimaced. "On second thought,
I'd rather not. I suspect Peter de Rivaux is with them?" [78] The handmaiden
shrugged as Eleanor changed into proper riding clothes.
"No matter, then." The inquisition had doubtless brought soldiers; she would
only have one chance, but she had been preparing for such an eventuality.
She tossed a rope over the side, out the window of her room in the castle,
and climbed down.
While her guards stalled the inquisition, warning them that Eleanor was
still indecent, she rode off. If Frederick wanted to play games, she could
play too. She said something out loud.
"Kings, queens, knights, and bishops everywhere you look, and I'm the only
pawn." Eleanor smiled. "That's what makes me dangerous.
Auvergne, March, 1227
Charles felt the blade cut through the flesh of the dismounted knight he
fought, then turned to face another. He had managed to find followers, yes,
but there were so many men willing to work with the Emperor.
He heard a trumpet behind him, and swore. If Frederick's men had gotten
behind him, he was going to die on this field.
He wheeled about, looked, and laughed. "Oh, you sons of whores are doomed!"
he cried. "Doomed!"
The knights who were charging towards him rode past, and crashed into the
Imperial lines. And an unusually small knight carried the banner of the
Queen of the Amazons, Eleanor of Aquitaine, rebel, heretic, and the woman
who saved Charles's life. Charles wheeled about and rejoined the fray.
After the battle, he rode up to the knight carrying. "you couldn't stay off
the field, could you, my lady?"
Eleanor lifted up her helmet. "And leave the fighting to you?" she said,
grinning. "You aren't the only one who has a quarrel with Frederick."
Charles stepped off of his horse, and in the muddy, bloodstained field,
knelt before Eleanor. "There is," he said slowly, "something I have wanted
to ask you for so long." Eleanor gave him an odd look, and he continued, "I
know that I would not be happier with anyone else in the world beside me.
Will you be my queen?"
Eleanor took his hand in hers, and looked over the battlefield, littered
with corpses from both sides. They had a long and difficult road ahead of
them; Frederick would probably try to incite revolts in her lands, and
Thibaud was still in Paris. The Emperor was fighting across Europe, aye, but
he could very well win.
Right now, none of that mattered to her. "Only," she said, "if you will be
my king."
[76] It's rather striking that no French king would ever refer to the Holy
Roman Emperor as such; he was King of Germany, or of Italy, etc.
[77] Theological debate based on logic. I am sorry to say this is replacing
discussions on chivalry at medieval tables.
[78] Peter Des Roches son. Peter himself is in England, and will feature in
the next post.