Prince of Peace 37: The Offspring of His Father
Assisi, March 1221
Peter Von Anweiler rode through the fields outside the city in a pleasant
mood. A fine day's hunting, although not of animals, and he had made
himself, and the Emperor, known to the Italian peasants.
As Peter rode back towards the city, he saw a man and a woman walking out of
the woods. He laughed, and then took another look at the woman. A comely
lass, indeed, with light blonde hair and green eyes. Probably the daughter
of an Imperial soldier who had come through here, years ago. He tossed aside
his first bag of wine, dismounted, and walked over, his sword clanging at
his side.
"Greetings!" cried Peter. The man and the woman both knelt before him. "It
is a beautiful day, is it not?" said Peter. "Almost as beautiful as you,
fair."
"Bianca," the girl answered kneeling before him. "I am known as Bianca."
The man interjected. "I, my Lord, am known as Lucentio, and a citizen of
Pisa. I hope to marry her soon, and we are to be wed shortly."
Peter laughed, and opened up his second bag of wine. "Oh, surely a woman
such as you, fair lady, can do much better than one such as he."
Lucentio raised his fist and tried to punch Peter in the face, but even
drunk, Peter was more than a match for him, and had a sword. With poor
Lucentio dying on the ground, he advanced on Bianca.
"Come no, do not be a wasp," said Peter as he advanced on her.
Bianca tried to walk backwards, away from Peter, but tripped and fell. "If I
be waspish, beware my sting," she said, trying to get away.
"Oh now," said Peter, "my remedy then, is to pluck it out. "
Bianca swore, and reached for something that Peter could not see. "Aye, if
you, fool, could find where it lies."
Peter laughed, as much from the wine as from anything else. ": Who knows not
where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail." He pressed himself on top of
her.
Bianca leaned close to him, and whispered in his ear. "No," she said, "in
her hand, actually," and plunged a knife into Peter's eye.
Getting up, soaked in blood, Bianca ran to Assisi to tell them of the death
of Peter, and what he had tried to do.
Milan, July 1222
Ezzelino looked over the vast tents of the imperial army and snorted
contemptuously. This is what the people of Assisi had brought to Italy by
revolting, he thought. Another army of conquest. The Emperor's Sicilians
were involved as well, besieging Spoleto, which had also risen up. Before
marching south, the Emperor had decided to address the delegates from the
cities of Italy, who each year sent delegates to Milan, garrisoned by the
Emperor and ruled by an Imperial podesta, to listen to the Emperor's viceroy
's demands.
Frederick looked over the army and nodded grimly. "Fear will keep the
Lombard cities in line. Fear of my armies."
Ezzelino coughed. "My Emperor, perhaps you are overreacting slightly? I
will grant you that rebellion against the Empire is a horrible act," he said
quickly, as Frederick turned his gaze on Ezzelino, "but perhaps they do have
just cause? Peter was a tyrant, who oppressed the cities you let him rule."
Ezzelino stared defiantly back at the Emperor. "And to be frank, if I saw
you raping a woman, I would cut you down myself [130]."
"You go too far, Duke of Padania," said Frederick. "This is not just a mere
revolt. They have attacked a servant of the Emperor, who is God's regent
upon this Earth. This is an attack upon God and the Christian faith, and it
is my duty to see that both are defended." He slammed his fist on the table.
"If we are merciful," said the Emperor, "then we will be so because it suits
our interests, not because the people of Assisi deserve it."
Ezzelino stormed off.
Assisi, November 1222
The people of Assisi had surrendered, at long last. The sight of the
Imperial army, and the Emperor's personal banner, had convinced them that
resistance was futile. The city's leading citizens had come before him,
begging for mercy.
Ezzelino looked on as they knelt before Frederick, who had been lecturing
them for hours while they listened in terror, as he talked of St. Augustine'
s view of heretics. He had ordered that that woman, Bianca, be brought as
well, and she was there.
"We have let you into the city," she said, speaking up when no one else
would. "We have accepted your surrendered. Is that not enough?"
Frederick nodded. "And now," he said, "I will show you what the fate of
those who resist is." He nodded to a servant, who blew a horn.
"What is going on?" said Ezzelino. "I do not understand." It was then he saw
the smoke rising from the city. "Jericho," he said, whispering.
Bianca dared to raise her head and look. "Why?" she demanded. "This was not
part of the deal!"
Frederick was unimpressed by her hysterics. "I am altering the deal," he
said. "Pray that I do not alter it any farther."
Bianca rushed at the Emperor, who laughed. "No, there's no knife this time,"
he said, and knocked her down. He smiled, and left the tent. He did,
however, say one last thing before leaving. "I have decided that your
prayers were in vain."
Ezzelino, however, remained, and watched as the Emperor's guards cut the
heads off of each and every citizen of Assisi in that room.
When the butchery was done, he walked out of the tent, his boots covered
with the blood of Assisi. He ran up to the Emperor, in shock. "Why?" he
asked.
Frederick was unconcerned. "They were rebels. Why is what I did any worse
than what any number of rulers in Italy have done? You of all people should
know that it is an Italian custom to tear down the towers and walls of your
enemy." Frederick looked at Ezzelino oddly. "I was merciful, I think. I let
the vast majority of citizens live, and it was not necessary for me to do
so. I could have turned my soldiers loose, to take and steal what they
wished. I could have had the citizens declared heretics, and as such fair
game for anything. "
Ezzelino switched from speaking German to Italian, so that the Italians who
were nearby could hear him as well. "But you are the Emperor!" Ezzelino
fought to keep his hand off of his sword hilt. "You are supposed to be
better than that. You are a Christian ruler, not one of the pagans who sat
in Rome and killed thousands for pleasure."
He did not kneel before Frederick as he continued to address him. "There are
two things in this life for which men are bound to labor, and that is to
keep faith with friends and to live with honor. Today, Frederick of the
Staufen, you have done neither."
"You forget yourself," said Frederick. In a rage he walked away. "See that
it does not happen again."
Ezzelino walked away, towards his tent. "No, my Emperor," whisphered
Ezzelino. "I remember well who I am. It is you who forget."
Verona, January 1223
Ezzelino lifted his glass of wine. "I did not think I would ever be
welcoming a Capuleti into Verona," he said.
Juliet laughed. "That was a long time ago," she said, taking a sip of the
wine. "My father bore you ill will for it, and, to be frank, so do I," she
said, "but the condotta [131] comes first."
Ezzelino took another sip. He was not quite accustomed to women who wore men
's clothing and served in armies. Oh, sure, it was done, but it did not make
it any less disturbing. Of course, it was her father who had started the
company, and she had merely become the captain when he had died. "So you
will do it?"
"Oh, of course," said Juliet. "I have men who can get things into cities
without anyone being the wiser. We'll get these weapons into Milan for you."
Verona, May 1225
"No," said Ezzelino.
The Emperor's herald seemed unused to hearing that word. "You are telling
the Emperor you will not join him in the Crusade against the Lombards?"
Ezzelino rubbed his temples. "No, actually. I am telling the Emperor that I
will not let his men pass through St. Brenner's. He will not march through
my Duchy to invade Italy."
The herald looked at Ezzelino as if he had grown horns. "This is treason!"
he said. "You are going to disobey the Emperor? Do you want to die?"
"Treason, is it?" said Ezzelino. "The Emperor, this tyrant, whole sole name
blisters my tongue, was once thought honest; I loved him well. But he claims
to be the Prince of Peace. He argues for the right ordering of the world,
and for prosperity and order. I see only the ruins of Assisi. Peace is not
made in deserts, despite what the Emperor believes. "
Nuremberg, October 1225
The herald cried out in the Court of Emperors. " A messenger from Ezzelino
of Verona!" There was murmuring, of course, as the courtiers realized that
his title was not mentioned. Nor did he prostrate himself before the
Emperor, merely bowing.
"How dare you come to me from that and of traitors?" demanded Frederick from
his throne.
"I am not a traitor," replied the messenger in flawless German, "nor do I
come from a land of traitors. I come urged on by conscience to warn these
nobles not to accompany your unjust arms. You have abandoned the people
committed by God to your charge. You have hardened your heart against
complaints and supplications. The people have avenged their wrongs. They
will fight, and they will die, for their holiest rights. The Duke of Padania
would hate to see you suffer the fate of the pharaoh."
Frederick grunted. "So that is how it is to be, is it?" he said. He thought
for a moment. "I have a gift for Ezzelino, that he might remember his proper
place in the world."
The messenger returned to Verona carrying a piece of Stonehenge.
Florence, December 1226
Ezzelino looked down at the theater. "A play?' he asked. "We are in a war
for the defense of the Church against the Antichrist, and you would have us
watch some Tuscan's play?"
Francis smiled. "I think you will enjoy this play, Duke of Padania. It is
about our esteemed Emperor."
Ezzelino nodded. Since the destruction of Assisi, Francis had become even
more Anti-Imperial, something that those who had heard him speak before
would not have thought possible. His thoughts were interrupted by the
beginning of the play.
Frederick appeared to be asleep in a bed when he suddenly sat up. "Who is
there?" he demanded.
Suddenly the ghost of his mother Constance arose on the stage. "Beware, my
child!" it said. "Your father seeks to ensnare you."
"What do you mean?" said Frederick. "Why are you here?"
Constance ignored the second question and answered the first.
"Oh shame!" cried the ghost of Constance. "I suffer an unknown adulterer."
"What sort of adulterer, Mother?"
"No less than a bull.
Curved horns arise from the shaggy neck,
And a mane of thick bristles crown him.
A bloody liquid streams from both eyes,
His nostrils vomit flame with frequent snorts,
Ashes rise from his spreading ears and spew forth from his mouth.
His mouth also belches a thin flame
And a constant fire licks his beard.
As this sort of adulterer gained his desires,
He filled my womb with the deadly seed of Venus. "
"My womb felt the terrible burden of you, Frederick.
You are the true offspring of your father." [132]
Frederick was unperturbed.
"What more do you wish, my mother? Should I be ashamed?
Madam, of so great a father? Should I deny my divine origin?
I am born of the gods. Romulus and Remus,
Whose father was Mars did not enjoy so exalted a lineage."
Ezzelino sighed as he watched the play. If only things were so simple. But
however much some might wish it, the Emperor was no more the antichrist than
Francis was a heretic.
[130] As he said to Frederick OTL in 1237
[131] Contract. And while medieval mercenarywomen in leadership positions is
rather rare, Petrarch knew of at least one, so I don't feel any qualms about
making a child of a Capuleti
[132] Credit for this goes to Albertino Mussato, a 14th century poet of
Padua.
Assisi, March 1221
Peter Von Anweiler rode through the fields outside the city in a pleasant
mood. A fine day's hunting, although not of animals, and he had made
himself, and the Emperor, known to the Italian peasants.
As Peter rode back towards the city, he saw a man and a woman walking out of
the woods. He laughed, and then took another look at the woman. A comely
lass, indeed, with light blonde hair and green eyes. Probably the daughter
of an Imperial soldier who had come through here, years ago. He tossed aside
his first bag of wine, dismounted, and walked over, his sword clanging at
his side.
"Greetings!" cried Peter. The man and the woman both knelt before him. "It
is a beautiful day, is it not?" said Peter. "Almost as beautiful as you,
fair."
"Bianca," the girl answered kneeling before him. "I am known as Bianca."
The man interjected. "I, my Lord, am known as Lucentio, and a citizen of
Pisa. I hope to marry her soon, and we are to be wed shortly."
Peter laughed, and opened up his second bag of wine. "Oh, surely a woman
such as you, fair lady, can do much better than one such as he."
Lucentio raised his fist and tried to punch Peter in the face, but even
drunk, Peter was more than a match for him, and had a sword. With poor
Lucentio dying on the ground, he advanced on Bianca.
"Come no, do not be a wasp," said Peter as he advanced on her.
Bianca tried to walk backwards, away from Peter, but tripped and fell. "If I
be waspish, beware my sting," she said, trying to get away.
"Oh now," said Peter, "my remedy then, is to pluck it out. "
Bianca swore, and reached for something that Peter could not see. "Aye, if
you, fool, could find where it lies."
Peter laughed, as much from the wine as from anything else. ": Who knows not
where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail." He pressed himself on top of
her.
Bianca leaned close to him, and whispered in his ear. "No," she said, "in
her hand, actually," and plunged a knife into Peter's eye.
Getting up, soaked in blood, Bianca ran to Assisi to tell them of the death
of Peter, and what he had tried to do.
Milan, July 1222
Ezzelino looked over the vast tents of the imperial army and snorted
contemptuously. This is what the people of Assisi had brought to Italy by
revolting, he thought. Another army of conquest. The Emperor's Sicilians
were involved as well, besieging Spoleto, which had also risen up. Before
marching south, the Emperor had decided to address the delegates from the
cities of Italy, who each year sent delegates to Milan, garrisoned by the
Emperor and ruled by an Imperial podesta, to listen to the Emperor's viceroy
's demands.
Frederick looked over the army and nodded grimly. "Fear will keep the
Lombard cities in line. Fear of my armies."
Ezzelino coughed. "My Emperor, perhaps you are overreacting slightly? I
will grant you that rebellion against the Empire is a horrible act," he said
quickly, as Frederick turned his gaze on Ezzelino, "but perhaps they do have
just cause? Peter was a tyrant, who oppressed the cities you let him rule."
Ezzelino stared defiantly back at the Emperor. "And to be frank, if I saw
you raping a woman, I would cut you down myself [130]."
"You go too far, Duke of Padania," said Frederick. "This is not just a mere
revolt. They have attacked a servant of the Emperor, who is God's regent
upon this Earth. This is an attack upon God and the Christian faith, and it
is my duty to see that both are defended." He slammed his fist on the table.
"If we are merciful," said the Emperor, "then we will be so because it suits
our interests, not because the people of Assisi deserve it."
Ezzelino stormed off.
Assisi, November 1222
The people of Assisi had surrendered, at long last. The sight of the
Imperial army, and the Emperor's personal banner, had convinced them that
resistance was futile. The city's leading citizens had come before him,
begging for mercy.
Ezzelino looked on as they knelt before Frederick, who had been lecturing
them for hours while they listened in terror, as he talked of St. Augustine'
s view of heretics. He had ordered that that woman, Bianca, be brought as
well, and she was there.
"We have let you into the city," she said, speaking up when no one else
would. "We have accepted your surrendered. Is that not enough?"
Frederick nodded. "And now," he said, "I will show you what the fate of
those who resist is." He nodded to a servant, who blew a horn.
"What is going on?" said Ezzelino. "I do not understand." It was then he saw
the smoke rising from the city. "Jericho," he said, whispering.
Bianca dared to raise her head and look. "Why?" she demanded. "This was not
part of the deal!"
Frederick was unimpressed by her hysterics. "I am altering the deal," he
said. "Pray that I do not alter it any farther."
Bianca rushed at the Emperor, who laughed. "No, there's no knife this time,"
he said, and knocked her down. He smiled, and left the tent. He did,
however, say one last thing before leaving. "I have decided that your
prayers were in vain."
Ezzelino, however, remained, and watched as the Emperor's guards cut the
heads off of each and every citizen of Assisi in that room.
When the butchery was done, he walked out of the tent, his boots covered
with the blood of Assisi. He ran up to the Emperor, in shock. "Why?" he
asked.
Frederick was unconcerned. "They were rebels. Why is what I did any worse
than what any number of rulers in Italy have done? You of all people should
know that it is an Italian custom to tear down the towers and walls of your
enemy." Frederick looked at Ezzelino oddly. "I was merciful, I think. I let
the vast majority of citizens live, and it was not necessary for me to do
so. I could have turned my soldiers loose, to take and steal what they
wished. I could have had the citizens declared heretics, and as such fair
game for anything. "
Ezzelino switched from speaking German to Italian, so that the Italians who
were nearby could hear him as well. "But you are the Emperor!" Ezzelino
fought to keep his hand off of his sword hilt. "You are supposed to be
better than that. You are a Christian ruler, not one of the pagans who sat
in Rome and killed thousands for pleasure."
He did not kneel before Frederick as he continued to address him. "There are
two things in this life for which men are bound to labor, and that is to
keep faith with friends and to live with honor. Today, Frederick of the
Staufen, you have done neither."
"You forget yourself," said Frederick. In a rage he walked away. "See that
it does not happen again."
Ezzelino walked away, towards his tent. "No, my Emperor," whisphered
Ezzelino. "I remember well who I am. It is you who forget."
Verona, January 1223
Ezzelino lifted his glass of wine. "I did not think I would ever be
welcoming a Capuleti into Verona," he said.
Juliet laughed. "That was a long time ago," she said, taking a sip of the
wine. "My father bore you ill will for it, and, to be frank, so do I," she
said, "but the condotta [131] comes first."
Ezzelino took another sip. He was not quite accustomed to women who wore men
's clothing and served in armies. Oh, sure, it was done, but it did not make
it any less disturbing. Of course, it was her father who had started the
company, and she had merely become the captain when he had died. "So you
will do it?"
"Oh, of course," said Juliet. "I have men who can get things into cities
without anyone being the wiser. We'll get these weapons into Milan for you."
Verona, May 1225
"No," said Ezzelino.
The Emperor's herald seemed unused to hearing that word. "You are telling
the Emperor you will not join him in the Crusade against the Lombards?"
Ezzelino rubbed his temples. "No, actually. I am telling the Emperor that I
will not let his men pass through St. Brenner's. He will not march through
my Duchy to invade Italy."
The herald looked at Ezzelino as if he had grown horns. "This is treason!"
he said. "You are going to disobey the Emperor? Do you want to die?"
"Treason, is it?" said Ezzelino. "The Emperor, this tyrant, whole sole name
blisters my tongue, was once thought honest; I loved him well. But he claims
to be the Prince of Peace. He argues for the right ordering of the world,
and for prosperity and order. I see only the ruins of Assisi. Peace is not
made in deserts, despite what the Emperor believes. "
Nuremberg, October 1225
The herald cried out in the Court of Emperors. " A messenger from Ezzelino
of Verona!" There was murmuring, of course, as the courtiers realized that
his title was not mentioned. Nor did he prostrate himself before the
Emperor, merely bowing.
"How dare you come to me from that and of traitors?" demanded Frederick from
his throne.
"I am not a traitor," replied the messenger in flawless German, "nor do I
come from a land of traitors. I come urged on by conscience to warn these
nobles not to accompany your unjust arms. You have abandoned the people
committed by God to your charge. You have hardened your heart against
complaints and supplications. The people have avenged their wrongs. They
will fight, and they will die, for their holiest rights. The Duke of Padania
would hate to see you suffer the fate of the pharaoh."
Frederick grunted. "So that is how it is to be, is it?" he said. He thought
for a moment. "I have a gift for Ezzelino, that he might remember his proper
place in the world."
The messenger returned to Verona carrying a piece of Stonehenge.
Florence, December 1226
Ezzelino looked down at the theater. "A play?' he asked. "We are in a war
for the defense of the Church against the Antichrist, and you would have us
watch some Tuscan's play?"
Francis smiled. "I think you will enjoy this play, Duke of Padania. It is
about our esteemed Emperor."
Ezzelino nodded. Since the destruction of Assisi, Francis had become even
more Anti-Imperial, something that those who had heard him speak before
would not have thought possible. His thoughts were interrupted by the
beginning of the play.
Frederick appeared to be asleep in a bed when he suddenly sat up. "Who is
there?" he demanded.
Suddenly the ghost of his mother Constance arose on the stage. "Beware, my
child!" it said. "Your father seeks to ensnare you."
"What do you mean?" said Frederick. "Why are you here?"
Constance ignored the second question and answered the first.
"Oh shame!" cried the ghost of Constance. "I suffer an unknown adulterer."
"What sort of adulterer, Mother?"
"No less than a bull.
Curved horns arise from the shaggy neck,
And a mane of thick bristles crown him.
A bloody liquid streams from both eyes,
His nostrils vomit flame with frequent snorts,
Ashes rise from his spreading ears and spew forth from his mouth.
His mouth also belches a thin flame
And a constant fire licks his beard.
As this sort of adulterer gained his desires,
He filled my womb with the deadly seed of Venus. "
"My womb felt the terrible burden of you, Frederick.
You are the true offspring of your father." [132]
Frederick was unperturbed.
"What more do you wish, my mother? Should I be ashamed?
Madam, of so great a father? Should I deny my divine origin?
I am born of the gods. Romulus and Remus,
Whose father was Mars did not enjoy so exalted a lineage."
Ezzelino sighed as he watched the play. If only things were so simple. But
however much some might wish it, the Emperor was no more the antichrist than
Francis was a heretic.
[130] As he said to Frederick OTL in 1237
[131] Contract. And while medieval mercenarywomen in leadership positions is
rather rare, Petrarch knew of at least one, so I don't feel any qualms about
making a child of a Capuleti
[132] Credit for this goes to Albertino Mussato, a 14th century poet of
Padua.
