Parts 1-23           

Prince of Peace #1

His premature death should be mourned by the German people and by all men throughout the empire. For he increased their glory by the wealth of foreign countries, struck terror into the surrounding nations by his bravery and proved that they (the Germans) would certainly have surpassed all other nations had not death cut him short."-St. Blasien's Chronicle.

"Will thou hold and guard by all proper means the sacred faith as handed down to Catholic men?"

"Will thou be the faithful shield and protector of Holy Church and her servants?"

"Will though uphold and recover those rights of the realm and possessions of the Empire which have been unlawfully usurped"

"Wilt thou protect the poor, the fatherless, and the widowed?" [1]-Questions to the Emperor at his coronation

October 1196, Efurt

The Diet was, at long last, coming to a close. The princes were finally coming around to agreeing to Henry's proposal. Succession in the head of the
empire would now be hereditary in the Hohenstaufen lineage. Hermann, Landgrave of Thuringia, was still complaining. "This is not the foundation upon which the Empire is based! This is a grave disservice to the Empire!" Henry sighed. Hermann had been complaining throughout. It was a perfectly fair arrangement, really. The vassals of the Emperor could pass land through their female lines as well, and their estates were hereditary, yet so was the crown.

"Why not? The Empire of Augustus passed down dynastic lines, and are we not his heirs? "[2]

Hermann sighed, and nodded. If only the Archbishop of Cologne hadn't passed away before the Emperor had proposed this in Wurzburg. He would've supported this. Now he and the Welfs were the only opponents, and everyone knew the Welfs would put themselves above the Empire. These men did not see it. Many of them were awed by Henry's might; but did they realize that he could be even mightier? If he could subdue the Lion of England, if he could conquer Sicily, how much more could he do? But Hermann was isolated. Too many men were swayed by Henry. As the debate concluded, Hermann sighed. He had no choice; to act alone would earn him the grave disfavor of the Emperor.

Frederick II would be the first king to inherit the throne of the Empire in hundreds of years.

Anagni, Italy, March, 1197

Celestine sighed. Couldn't they let an old man rest? So the Germans had declared Frederick II to be the heir to Henry. Was that so surprising? If
Henry died, it wouldn't last; and if he didn't, well, they would deal with it [3]. He would give support to the revived Lombard League.

But there was more to it than that. Henry had taken the cross in 1195, and was coming south with an army. He was using his new possession as territory to free Jerusalem. How could a just Pope punish an Emperor devoted to freeing Christendom for preparing for his son's future?

But the two kingdoms could not be kept together. He nodded. "Send the message to Henry. Frederick II can only inherit the Empire or Sicily, not
both. "

August, Italy, 1197

Henry looked off in the distance, and picked his son up.”Those ships are setting off for the Holy Land, to free Jerusalem." Frederick nodded. A very
quiet child, thought Henry, must take after his father.

"Are you going with them?" asked Frederick. Already Henry could tell his child was going to do marvelous things.

"Perhaps, Frederick. The rebellion by the Saracens in Sicily has been suppressed, and Markwood and your mother are in charge." Well, Markwood was also going to keep an eye on Constance, but no sense worrying the boy. He would worry enough, when he grew up.


[1] There's also a fifth question, asking if the Emperor will pay due submission to the Roman pontiff, which I felt didn't quite fit.

[2 Well, often enough to suit Henry's purposes anyway.

[3 I'm in the camp that leans towards senility in Celestine more than the moderating voice. Of course, any successive popes will _not_ be amused

Prince of Peace 2

Egypt, November, 1197.

"The Franks are back," said one of the servants. Al-Adel nodded. With his brother's empire falling apart, it wasn't surprising that they'd try to restore their Kingdom. And already Beirut and Sidon had fallen. They'd even sent a message.

"I, Henry VI, Emperor of the Romans, King of Sicily, and ruler of Christendom, come thee now with a warning. You have taken from us the most Holy City of Jerusalem, and parts of the sacred true cross. Return to us the Kingdom and the Cross, and we shall leave in peace. If you do not, then pray
to your idols, for you shall meet them shortly."

And on and on. He was almost as bad as Malik Ric had been. Then again, his army was just as large.

Tibnine, January, 1198

The defeated Saracens walked out of the gates, defeated and forlorn. The Saracens were weary and demoralized, he could tell; there'd apparently been a civil war in their lands when Saladin died. He thanked God that nothing like that would happen when his son took the throne. In fact, it was
beginning to look like hi son would be the king of Jerusalem. Princess Maria was a few years older than Frederick, but what of it? He wasn't the same age as Constance, and that had worked out well enough.

Jaffa, March, 1198

With the fall of Tibnine (Tiberias), the Imperial army garrisoned the city and prepared to march south. Although the casualties were great, there was
little opposition. God had smiled upon them, weakening the infidel in his civil wars. True, they had suffered; there had been dysentery, and there had
been little water, but that was in the past.

Henry, at this point, decided that, having the Sicilian navy in tow, he may as well get some use out of it, and they advanced down the coast towards Jaffa, from which point they would head east to Jaffa, a key Saracen seaport. Taking it, as the local magnates told Henry, would mean that Al-Adel would not be able to communicate properly with his lands in the Kingdom. It was, however, a mighty city, with two walls, fifty-three towers,
and strong ramparts.

On the other hand, taking the city would mean that Al-Adel would be cut off from his base of support in Egypt, and his entire position in the Holy Land would be unviable.

Al-Adel, meanwhile, facing opposition in his own ranks, decided that he had to defeat the Franks quickly. The Battle of Ascalon would be the largest
battle of what would be known as the Imperial Crusade.

At the battle of Ascalon, with the sea protecting the rear of the Christians,Al-Adel decided to use his numerical superiority to smash them from all sides. The army was gradually pushed closer and closer together, and the Archbishop of Mainz wrote that "Our people, so few in numbers, were
hemmed in by the hordes of the Arabs. They were shut in, like a flock of sheep in the jaws of wolves."

Word was sent to Henry that the lines could not hold, and they implored for a breakout. Henry refused. His left flank bore the brunt of the attack,
compressing towards the center. Finally, in the battle that would earn him the name "The Hammerer of the Pagans" . Henry's army, compressed towards the center, launched a charge[1].

Al-Adel would, according to chronicles, realize what was going on, but too late. The spark came from Frederick of Austria, who rushed through the
infantry and at the attackers. Instantly, so did the rest of the army. As if on cue, the infantry line parted in the center, and the cavalry charge
became general.

The Muslim ranks collapsed in general confusion and terror. Many of the Muslim attackers had dismounted to press their advantage, and were cut down. Henry, declaring "Adjuva nos, Deus!" [2] joined the fray. As the Muslim retreat turned into a rout, Al-Adel attempted to berate and stop his
soldiers from fleeing, only to be knocked off his horse by a stone thrown by his soldiers.

By nightfall, the rout was complete. Al-Adel lost over seven thousand dead and two dozen emirs, and Henry had lost only a few more than five hundred. No one stood between the crusaders adn the liberation of the Holy Land.


[1] Regrettably, many of Al-Adel's men were dismounting to close ranks when this happened.

[2] God Preserve us, the typical cry when they went off to fight and die.

Prince of Peace 3

At Rome I heard lying
and the betrayal of two kings.
From that arose the greatest strife
that ever was or will be.-Walter Von Vogelweide, poet for Phillip of Swabia.


Rome, July, 1198

As usual, the Cardinals were arguing. Some thought that Henry wasn't a
threat; others thought that it would make the church look like a farce if it
lost. Innocent III was getting rather tired of this, and it was important to
focus on the crux of the matter.

"Henry VI is a threat to the Church. Bad enough dealing with an Emperor,
when we could play off the Normans against him, and vice versa. Now we have
an Emperor who's also the king of Sicily. And in the Holy Land, where he's
been given the title "Defender of Jerusalem" by the Queen. And who has
gotten the German nobles to declare the Hohenstaufens the dynastic rulers of
the Empire."

Innocent's nephew, the count of Segni [1 picked up a letter. "It's been
clear for some time that a few of the German nobles have begun to realize
that they are now landlords for the Emperor and are, quite frankly, not
happy."

"Now, it's quite obvious that it should be possible to incite the Welfs to
revolt against their Emperor. But the rest of Germany might prove more
difficult, especially as Frederick II has already been crowned King of the
Romans."

"If, on the other hand, rumors began to spread that Henry was dead."[2].

Gregory nodded. "We should also consider the obvious. Alexander III clearly
pointed out that the Empire could be transferred from one power to another.
Succession and the Empire are matters for the Pope, since Leo III
transferred the office to the west. It may very well be possible to transfer
the Empire back to the Greeks if they return to the fold; or even to another
monarch entirely[3]".

Brunswick, July, 1198

"We all acknowledged Henry as our Emperor, true enough, and we all
acknowledged his father's wishes." The minnesingers were recording this, so
that this could become a heroic epic for the princes of Germany.

"But word has reached our ears that the Emperor has died upon the crusade.
Should we place a child above our heads? Should a mere child become our
Emperor?" Otto of Brunswick smiled. He knew he had the support of his Uncle
Richard, who had just defeated Phillip Augustus in Normandy again. He knew
he could count on Ottokar's support as well. The Pope was encouraging him;
Innocent was the one who had sent word of Henry's death, and why would a
Pope lie?


Jerusalem, November 1198

The entrance of a Crusader army into Jerusalem, almost ten years after the
city fell, was not to be a sack. It could not be, for, after all, Henry had
taken the city without a struggle.

With the fall of Ascalon, Al-Adel was trapped in the Levant, away from his
lands in Egypt. His lands to the east, Henry had heard, were ruined and
trampled underfoot. Al-Adel's reinforcements came from Egypt, as did most of
his supplies. Therefore, as Henry had guessed, Al-Adel had given up. In
return for the Kingdom of Jerusalem to the Jordan River, Ascalon would be an
unfortified city in Christian hands. A tough bargain, to be sure, but when
the alternative was losing your throne and having rebels take what belonged
to you, there wasn't much of a choice.

Pondering on that, Henry felt sympathy for Adel, something that he would
have never thought would happen. He too, had troubles at home. But the sight
of the Holy City repaid it all.

[1] Dear readers may know him as Gregory IX.

[2] This is closely based on Gregory IX's strategy in the 1220's, when
Frederick went to save Jerusalem.

[3] Note that Innocent III did propose this in 1199, 1200, and 1203. I can
imagine he's rather less pleased with a hereditary empire than he was with
Otto and Frederick II in OTL, and his reaction is consequently more
inflammatory.

Prince of Peace 4

What happens when you try typing with one hand broken? Somethin rather like
this.

December, Palermo, 1198.

"This other radiance that shows itself
to you at my right hand, a brightness kindled
by all the light that fills our heaven.
This is the splendor of the great Costanza,
who from the Swabians' second gust engendered
the one who was their third and final power."- Dante's Paradise

Constance was dying. Oh, the doctors, even the Jewish ones, still thought
she might live, but she could tell. Her time was drawing nigh.

In her lucid moments, she wondered what would happen to her kingdom.
Constantine (Frederick would always be Constantine to her) was now the King
of the Romans. Sicily was swarming with Germans, and her husband was away in
Jerusalem. What could the future hold for her son?

It was then that Constance had her vision of her son's future. She would
die, as the legends say, with a smile, and uttering the word, "Constantine,
Imperium, Rome."

March, Ascalon, 1199.

Henry stood on a galley off of Ascalon, at long last ready to return to
Germany. He had much to deal with; maintaining order in Sicily, removing the
Welfs, and ensuring the defense of Jerusalem. He should really discuss that
with the pope. Surely innocent would agree that it was just to take a
portion of the Church's imperial revenues to defend the Holy Sepulchre?

And, had not the Pope promised to defend the lands of crusaders? Surely he
would no doubt condemn. Otto's action, and excommunicate the rebels against
the emperor[9]. By the time Frederick was Emperor, Germany would be as
centralized as England, hopefully.

As he waited for the ship to leave, Henry looked across the water, his
thoughts turned to other plans.Ascalon would be a new thing. It would not
have a Pisan quarter, or a Genoese, but an imperial one. Venice, which
boasted of being independent, was not permitted, but the great maritime
cities would find access to the greatest port in the east contingent upon
loyalty to their Emperor.

How long Henry gazed at the port he could not say, for he was startled when
Isabella came up behind him. He really had to treat her with more respect,
for she was the Empress, and mourned too. Her husband had died recently as
well.

"Do no worry, my Empress. Together we shall make a new beginning." Henry
looked to the northwest, where Byzantium still lay, spiting his rightful
claim to the title of Emperor.

"For all of Christendom."

[8] A more cynical generation would say sickness inspired delusion, but hers
will regard it as a vision from God.

[9] Henry suspects papal support for Otto, but can't prove it.

Prince of Peace 5

"The Lord Jesus Christ has set up one ruler over all things as his universal
vicar, and as all things in heaven, earth and hell bow the knee to Christ,
so should all obey Christ's vicar, that there be one flock and one
shepherd"-Innocent III.

Romagna, March, 1199

Markward von Anweiler laughed at the two legates. "The Pope feels that I am
on Papal lands? Since when has he had been the lord of Spoleto or Romagna? I
hold these lands as a servant of the Emperor! Perhaps you wish to dispute
this with the Defender of Jerusalem?"

"If he will agree, then I will of course obey the Emperor. But until then, I
shall defend these lands with my life."

Messina, March, 1199

Henry was not normally a nervous man. After all, you couldn't defend
Christendom if you were a coward! He was no Greek, to run from danger.

But Joachim of Fiore was in many ways more scary than all the armies of the
Infidel. He had be en summoned before the Emperor to explain the fate of the
world.

"They say you are a prophet," said Henry.

Joachim bowed before the Emperor. "In no way. I merely see what God wishes
to show me. I am just a messenger. He has given me the insight to understand
the revelations."

"And what does he tell you?"

Joachim gestured. "The Holy Virgin, basking in the glow of the faith,
supported by the Church, stands against the seven-headed dragon, Satan. The
seven heads represent the persecutors of the faith, from Herod to Saladin.
Six of the seven persecutors are dead, but one, the antichrist, still
lives."

Henry shuddered. "Where?"

"In Rome. He is about twenty-five. He will seduce the church, focusing it
upon worldly matters over its true calling. It will be corrupted by avarice
and ambition, and its greed will cause many to lose the faith, seduced by
heresies that ensure their damnation."

"And the Empire?"

"That," said Joachim, "depends on you. But I can tell you this. The
Antichrist shall face an Emperor who rules Jerusalem [10]."

Assisi, April, 1199

The city of Assisi had never been a bastion of Imperial support, despite its
German overlords. Which, thought Innocent, made its celebration rather
disturbing.

Throughout his procession through Italy, the Emperor had been treated to
tournaments, prayers of thanks, offers of homage, and feasts. Palermo had
been festooned with silken banners with the Hohenstaufen heraldry, and that
was a city the Hohenstaufens had conquered! Assisi had declared forty days
of rejoicing for the victory, and the fact that the Emperor had returned
with a piece of the True Cross made it all the more remarkable [11]. Even
Alessandria, built to oppose the Emperors, was sending him offers of praise.
What was next? Would Milan ask for a German podesta?

Innocent noticed a change in the crowd. Even where he was sitting, on a
stand above the street, he could feel the ripple of excitement. The parade
was finally finishing up, and Henry was stepping off of his horse.

The crowd went wild for the Emperor of Rome.

Two days later, after the inevitable prayers of thanks, in which Innocent
stressed God's part in the salvation of the Holy Sepulcher, he and Henry
finally met [12].

It was Henry who began the talks. "Ironic, is it not, that when the Kings of
France and England crusade, the infidel keeps Jerusalem, yet when the
emperor does so, he succeeds? Would you not agree that it is a sign of God's
favor for the Empire?"

"I think," said Innocent, "that it is a sign of his favor towards all of
Christendom. Which is led by the Pope, who guards the souls of man."

"But is not the Empire necessary? Who can defend the Church but the
Emperor?"

"The church, of course. The emperor only derives his power from the
splendor and dignity of the Pope, just as the moon derives its light from
the sun. The church made the Empire." And, thought Innocent, could break
it, if it came to hat.

Henry nodded. "So you would agree, then, that the salvation of men's souls
is of great important to the church?"

Innocent began to suspect a trap." Of course, mankind's salvation is of
immense importance, as any village priest will tell you."

Henry banged a fist on the table. "Then do the obvious! Renounce Rome and
control of Central Italy. The revenues of the Imperial churches will more
than make up for it. The church will be freed from worldly concerns to focus
on what you view as more important, the salvation of our souls."

"Consider, Innocent, the dangers to Christendom. The Greeks are still
schismatic, the Saracens ravage Spain, and heresy spreads throughout Europe.
In Toulouse, men openly boast that the Earth is the realm of Satan. And yet
we quarrel over a few cities, over the rights of the Empire and of the Pope.
I beseech you, accept this offer, for the sake of our immortal souls [13]."

Innocent shook his head. "It cannot be. Constantine's Donation was made for
a reason. It is a demonstration that the Papacy possesses temporal as well
as spiritual concerns, establishing that the Church is of this world as well
as the next. You, however, are only of this world. Spiritual matters are
beyond your grasp. Moreover, it would make the pope dependent upon the
Emperor's good will, and the church will never whore itself for money. The
Papal lands cannot be given up."

Henry nodded. "Fair enough. I hope that, with time, you shall understand and
repent of your decision. But I do have one other favor to ask. As you are
well aware, the Church will grant lords the revenues of churches on their
lands if they are on the crusade. As Emperor, and the King of Jerusalem, it
is my duty to defend the Holy Sepulcher."

Henry raised his voice higher so all could hear. " I therefore ask that, as
Emperor, you acknowledge me as an eternal crusader, for by my very nature, I
must always defend the Holy Land. Therefore, I ask that I receive the
revenues of the Imperial church, so that I might end the grave threats to
Christendom. As you have refused, it would only be fair to use that money to
defend the Faith."

Innocent was taken aback momentarily. This he had not expected. "You have
made a mistake in your theology. Although crusading is, by its nature
voluntary, there is a moral imperative to do so. Those who refuse to take
the Cross will have to answer on judgment day."

"Then is it not necessary for the Church to help Crusaders? Even a tithe of
the church's imperial revenues will suffice."

Innocent was caught in a trap. If he said no, he could not raise money for
the Crusade he was planning. If he said yes. well, he didn't really have a
choice. "We shall consider it."

Henry bowed, and made to leave. "There is one more thing I ask of you. I
regret to inform you that princes, led by Ottokar, who claims to be the king
of Bohemia, of Bohemia and Otto, the Welf have risen against me. And," said
Henry, " now that you are aware of this tragic fact, and their assault upon
the lands and rights of a Crusader, breaking the Truce of God, I ask you to
excommunicate them and their followers."'

Innocent, by this point, was getting angry. Who was he, to tell the Pope
whom to excommunicate? "We must give them time to reconsider, the forty days
that custom demands."

"If they had forty years they would not reconsider!" Henry and his retinue
left the room in which the negotiations were conducted.

Before walking out, Henry called out one last sentence. "You may have qualms
about unleashing the Sword of St. Peters, but I have no qualms about using
the Sword of Christ. We shall see which proves its mettle."

[10] Most of this is based on Joachim's OTL works, with one difference. OTL
he was fairly ambivalent about the Empire. In TTL, in the aftermath of the
liberation of Jerusalem, he's picked up more of the pro-Imperial
apoctolyptic view that was going around.

[11] Or so the Saracens say. Given that the Saracens don't believe that
Jesus was killed on the Cross, future historians will wonder if it's a
forgery.

[12] Note that Innocent is in a rather weak position. It wasn't until Henry
died that Innocent received homage from the Prefect of Rome and the Senate.
Much of Central Italy is still under Imperial control as well.

Henry's legal argument is also rather sound, thanks to help from the lawyers
of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. (Although the fact that he brings those
attorneys to Europe does imply that he is the AntiChrist, as will later be
claimed).

[13] An Emperor asking the Pope to give up on Italy in exchange for money?
Sound farfetched? Henry proposed that to Celestine in 1194.

Prince of Peace 6

Nuremberg, July, 1199

"princeps legibus solutus"

"The Leader is not bound by law"-Bolognese Jurists to Frederick I

Henry stared, Who was this child before him? Frederick was not yet five, but
already he seemed, to his father who had not seen him for two years, to be
the wonder of the world [14].

Frederick, for his part, was unsure how to react. He knew who this was, but
to him Phillip had played a bigger role. "Hello, father," said Frederick.
"Did you bring me anything back from the Crusade?"

For the first time in months, Henry laughed.

"Yes, I have."

Isabelle entered the room, and Frederick stared at her and her child. "This
is your new mother, Empress Isabelle, and your brother, Constantine."

*********

Upon returning from the East, Henry's first necessity was to call a Diet, to
establish who were loyal to the Emperor. The result was better than
expected. The lords from the Crusade, including the bishops of Mainz and
Bremen, were there. Oddly, the towns were his enthusiastic supporters [15],
which was a welcome change from Italy.

It was more noticeable, really, who was not there, really. Richard had not
sent a delegate, nor had the Wittelsbachs. Henry of the Palatinate was
supporting his brother, but just as well. Let them know he meant business.
Henry raised his voice and began to speak.

"I must admit, when I hear the false claims of the Welfs and their allies, I
wonder if they have me confused with someone else. They call me a tyrant who has taken over the Empire; yet was I not elected? Did you not decide to make my son, and his sons, the heirs of the Empire? Of course, then, their claim is a lie by deceitful wretches. They claim that I am unholy, and mock God. One would think I am a Commeni."

"Let me tell you who I am, then. And let the traitors to God know as well. I
am the August Emperor of Rome, the Defender of the Faith. I am the King of
Germany, of Burgundy, of Italy, of Sicily, and of Jerusalem. I am the Sword
of Christ, used against heretics and traitors. It was used on Saphadin, and
shall soon be used on you."

The assembled nobles cheered. "Sieg un Heil! Sieg und Heil!"

The next day was a tournament, to celebrate the Emperor's success on the
crusade. It was also a day for Henry to plan his strategy. According to
Phillip, the rebels were hemmed in the north and in Bohemia.

"How do you think we should deal with them?" asked Phillip, as they walked
through the fields where the tournament was being held.

Henry laughed, and drew his sword. "Like this." With a swipe, he cut the
grass in half.

Eisenach, August, 1199

Otto dodged the blade and killed the knight attacking him with one blow.
Despite the fact that he had just avoided a rather unpleasant death, he
swore. Where were his reinforcements? Where were the other princes Innocent
had promised?

The battle had been a disaster. Otto's supporters had been defeated or
joined the Emperor. No one could stand against the Defender of Jerusalem,
and so no one would. He had tried, but Henry's cavalry had been too much.
There was still a chance, though. If he could escape to England..

He heard a great cry behind him, as the Imperial forces cut off the rebels.
He was trapped, and now all hope was lost.


Fulda, March, 1200

"Lord Emperor, are you sure you wish to see this?" asked Henry's guard.

"I want to be there for it." The guard nodded and led Henry down into the
dungeon. There lay one of the most pitiable sights he had ever seen. The
wretch, bloodied and bruised, moaned. It was hard to tell that this man had
once aspired to be Emperor.

Otto was broken, that much was plain. "To think you once led armies against
me," said Henry, looking down.

Otto turned and looked up. "it was not me! The Pope-"

Henry cut him off. "Yes, Innocent is not quite innocent here. But, I do not
have him. " Yet, thought Henry.

"Otto will merely suffer a fine and lose Prague. He is ambitious, and
ambition can be useful. But you have tried to usurp the Empire while I was
on the holy crusade. If you wish to wear a crown that much, so be it."

Otto looked up. What could Henry possibly mean? It took Otto, deprived of
food and sleep, a few seconds to realize what was about to happen. It was
not until he felt the pain that he realized what was going on. A red-hot
crown of iron, Henry's favorite way of dealing with rebels, was placed upon
his head.

The screams, it would be said, were heard in Augsburg.

March, Nuremberg, 1200

Ottokar stood kneeling before the Emperor, begging forgiveness. Behind the
Emperor, the True Cross was mounted. A nice touch, that.

"Ottokar, I forgive you for what you have done. You were led astray by the
traitor against God, Otto of Saxony. He has been judged by a higher power
than even I, but you have time to amend your errors."

Henry smiled. Now Germany was his at last! In the aftermath of victory, he
had expanded his rights over Germany. He had inherited the fiefs of the
Welfs, with the death of their line; he had declared that his main court in
Germany would be in Nuremberg; he had confirmed his taxation of the
peasantry; and he had showered the towns with privileges. The Hohenstaufen Demesne now covered much of Western Germany, and who would dare argue with the Prince of Peace, the King of Jerusalem, the Augustus, about what was his?

"Know that I have never set out for personal ambition. I merely hope to
restore the grandeur of the Roman Empire. There is but one step before us,
and that task will be complete. I ask you, Ottokar, to join me in this noble
endeavour."

Rome, April, 1200

The messengers had crossed the Alps as quick as they could. Innocent was
rather amused by the Emperor's actions. He was altering the Empire's
structure without the Pope's consent. And wasn't he aware that Saxony was
actually a Papal fief going back to Charlemagne [16]? And to torture and
kill a vassal of the Pope without his consent. well, those were not the
actions of a true Emperor. Which meant, of course, that a new one would have to be found.

--=-=-=-================================
[14] Frederick was taken to Germany to be coronated as King of the Romans in
1197 by Phillip.

[15] Frederick II missed an opportunity to make a strong ally for the
Hohenstaufens when he handed control over the cities to various princes.
Henry will be in Germany more often, and will not make the same mistake.
(Which could be interesting; his proclamation of 1220 makes reference to the
cities taking their hinterland like in Italy. I wonder how muc h farther
that could go.

[16] The Church did claim this, based upon donations to the Church done in
Saxony. Apparently donating land, if you believe the church, means your
duchy is theirs.

Prince of Peace 7

"He has committed very grave offences, which cannot be covered up by any
subterfuge...he has abjured God on many occasions; he has wantonly broken
the peace which had been established between the Church and the Empire.he is
also accused of heresy..."- Innocent's Letter to the Archbishops of Germany.

Vezeley, March, 1200

The rolling fields of Burgundy were, yet again, covered with a sea of tents
and arms. Despite meeting together during a peace treaty which was inspired
by the Pope, neither Philip nor Richard trusted each other enough to be near
each other without a small army. But despite having met for only a few days,
Richard was already tired of this.

He and Philip had met in a central tent, donated by the Pope himself,
because there had been an argument over royal precedence. Phillip had
suggested he was superior because his Kingdom was not a fief of the Emperor; Richard responded by suggesting his because his was bigger, which, he had said, was something Philip already knew.

Richard had been tempted to leave, but the Legates had convinced him that it
would be to his best interest, and Henry's worst, to stay. Therefore, two
days after their first meeting, they met.

"The Pope, I hear, wishes for a marriage," said Phillip.

Richard looked towards the door. "Oh, is Alais finding her bed lonely? [17]"

Philip Augustus, King of France, silently wished he hadn't agreed to this to
have the Pope end his interdict. Why should the Pope be able to tell him who
to wed? There were times, really, when Philip wished that he could send
troops to kidnap the Pope.

But who could ever imagine a French King doing that? Therefore, he had
little choice but to go along with this.

"What do you think of a marriage between Eleanor and Louis?" [18]

Richard pretended to think about it. "On one condition. You must give
support to John. He will march to rally the Welf allies in northern Germany,
to support him as the new Emperor."

Phillip nearly spat out his wine. A Plantagenet Emperor? Brilliant. How long
would it take before they all marched on Paris? On the other hand, he knew
John. The poor fool couldn't even rule England! He would distract Henry from
doing something foolish, surely? He could then gain influence in Flanders,
and then turn the tables on Richard.

"Well, now, it depends. Perhaps a campaign in 1202 might be doable.."

Richard laughed. "Yes, yes. We must wait until after the crusade! The Pope
has called for his own crusade to free Egypt! Of course we will be under his
leadership, to avoid, ah the difficulties of the last Crusade of ours, but
it will prove that no Germans can upstage the Kings of England and France!"

Phillip glared at the Legate. Yes, he definitely could sympathize with
Henry.

Nuremberg, May, 1200

Irene looked out the window of the castle, as she was wont to do at night.
Far to the south and east, beyond what she could ever hope of seeing, lay
her home She had been here in Germany for years. Oh, she loved her husband, and the Germans had their endearing qualities. But how could a castle compare to the City? How could she be happy knowing her poor father was blinded and rotting in some dungeon?

Her husband Phillip came up behind her, and held her. He smiled. "I know
you miss your home, dear. But I promise you you'll return, and this time,
you'll stay."

Palermo, June, 1200

Markward paced back and forth. The Emperor's orders were tiresome. He had
made him build an ever fleet before traveling back across the Alps, and for
what? He'd only made some vague comments about Egypt or the Almohads. But a fleet wasn't cheap, and he'd been able to make depressingly little money off of the island.

What use did the Emperor have for this massive fleet, and why was he in
negotiations with Pisa? Really, thought Markward, as he listened to the Jews
going over the state of the Kingdom, it made no sense.

Just then, a messenger ran into the throne room. Clearly the poor man was
tired; it was a long journey from Germany, and he wore the Hohenstaufen
livery. Henry must not have trusted anyone else with it.

"My Duke! There is a message from the Lord Emperor, for your eyes only!"
Henry grabbed the letter, and tore it open. After a few lines, he started
laughing. "That does explain it all!"

November, Nuremberg, 1200

German halls were interesting places. A lord's duties included making sure
that everyone had plenty to drink. A German lord's duties involved making
sure everyone was drunk. Which, combined with Papal delegates and the fact
that many of those men were armed, could be a problem. For they had made the
mistake of announcing their superior's policy during one of the feasts to
celebrate the Empire's triumphs.

It was really their fault, thought Henry. They shouldn't have declared an
interdiction. "Put the swords down. These are men of the cloth, and they
have come here in peace."

"I will say this, though. I pray for the soul of their lord. He claims
suddenly that Saxony is a papal fief. But when did we hear of this? Was it
when Henry the Lion ruled Saxony? Was it during the reign of Lothar?" He
waited for the German nobles to realize where this was going.

"No! He says this now that I have taken Saxony from a rebel against God!
After I have taken lands from a man who attacked me while I was on the
Crusade, who, indeed, threatened my son [19]." The Papal delegates, still
somewhat stunned, listened to the roar which echoed in the castle as the
Germans yelled their support.

"What does it mean if Saxony is suddenly a Papal fief? Will Austria be? Or
Bohemia? Or perhaps he will decide the entire world is a fief of the Papacy,
and threaten us with damnation if we do not jump when he says. Is that
becoming of Imperial subjects?"

Henry turned back to the delegates. "Return to Innocent, and tell him that I
protest. I demand an ecumenical council to discover the truth of the matter
at hand, and I spurn his protest. I shall call a Diet to discover the intent
of the Empire, and we shall see what my loyal subjects think."

Henry sighed. No matter what, it would all be decided by March.

---------------------------------------------------------
[17] Alais is Philip's half sister, who was, at various times, to be wed to
Richard and John, and was bedded by Henry II. She was also imprisoned by
Eleanor She's married by this point, but Richard just feels like giving
Philip a hard time.

[18] Eleanor of Brittany, not Eleanor, Richard's mother. Louis is Philip's
son.

[19] Or so he claims. It's true that Frederick II was in danger in 1198,
but there was never any definite connection to Otto.

Prince of Peace 8
"Behold, an ape is crowned!"- Nicholas of Thessalonica

April, Palermo, 1201

Phillip looked at the receding shoreline. The Pisan fleet had rendezvoused
with the Sicilian fleet off of Palermo, and all was set for the expedition.
The island itself was covered in a security blockade, with no ships allowed
to set sail for a month. Now, at long last, the men could know their true
target. He looked across the decks, which were crowded with the men of
Germany and Sicily, still getting used to the sea. His wife was looking on,
finally happy. At long last she would have what she deserved.

"We are not going to Egypt. We are off to Byzantium!"

Constantinople, May 4, 1201

The ramparts of the queen of cities towered above the Imperial fleet. The
sight of the high walls and strong towers which encircled the splendid
palaces ands oaring churches, in numbers beyond count, was enough to take a man's breath away. There was not, Phillip knew, a place as rich and powerful on Earth, nor a place so beautiful. Phillip's gaze hardened. All the more incentive to take it.

Phillip had landed his army near the palace of Chalcedon to replenish their
strength. Even the land was rich; it was a dark, rich earth that smelled of
vitality. A man could do great things, here. Great and wonderful things.
They had already repulsed a charge of Byzantine cavalry, and now they were
awaiting a delegate from Alexius.

The delegate arrived shortly. To insult the Imperial army, the Byzantines
sent a delegate who did not even speak Latin fluently, and proceeded to
insult Phillip. "You don't frighten us, German pig-dog! Go and soil your
bottom, son of a baboon. I blow my nose on you, so-called Phillip-king, you
and your silly German kinglets. I don't want to talk to you, no more, you
empty-headed animal, food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction!"

Phillip looked at the delegate, and, in perfect Greek, said, "Let me explain
this to you. Tell your king that if he will surrender now, I shall be
merciful to him. If not, tell him to send no more emissaries, but look to
his defense. And know that I will remember your face." The Byzantine
emissary then decided that it was time to leave, and fled as quickly as he
could.

The next day, on the morning of May 8, the army crossed the Bosphorus and
landed below Galata. Galata was unwalled, but its tower contained the
windlass that raised and lowered the chain that could block the Golden Horn.
The Byzantines had drawn up a considerable force, but Phillip was ready.

"To me, men of Germany!" roared Phillip, leading the charge against the
Byzantines. "Sieg und Heil!"

"Sieg und Heil! Sieg und Heil!"

Venice, May 24, 1201

Enrico Dandolo wished, at this particular moment, that he wasn't blind. He
needed to gauge the crowd before he called for them to sail to save
Constantinople, and it was rather hard to do that when he couldn't see their
faces. He didn't like the Byzantines, but Venice did excellent business
with the Emperor. A German King would not be their ally; Byzantine trade
would go to cities loyal to Henry. But so many Venetians didn't see past the
war they had had with Byzantium! Which was why it was necessary that he give a speech to the people of Venice. In the Cathedral of St. Mark, Dandolo
would try to convince Venice to save Byzantium.

"Our ships have seen Pisans and Sicilians under the banner of Henry sailing
to the East. What is in the East? Constantinople. Now, I am not fond of that
city; but it has been our ally before, and has always been our partner in
trade. Now a German seeks to subdue it, and tie it by blood to the Western
Emperor. We will find ourselves between the Devil and the Sea, in that
case."

"Signors, I myself am old and feeble, I need rest. My body is infirm. But I
know, and you know, that no man can lead you and govern you as I, your Lord, can do. If you will allow me to direct and defend you by sailing to
Constantinople while my son remains in my place, I am ready to live and die
with you, as the Doge of the free city of Venice."

Constantinople, May 10, 1201

Galata had fallen; the Byzantine navy, such as it was, was destroyed; but
Constantinople still did not surrender. Awakened now to the threat, the
city was going to resist.

To that end, Phillip had directed his assault against the sea wall in front
of the Palace of Blachernae. Pisan ships, low in the water from the weight
of siege engine, bombarded the wall, while the Sicilians and Germans
attacked via the land. The Varangians were trying to hold the Germans back, but they could do no more than stem the tide.

Before many hours had passed, almost thirty towers were in Imperial hands.
Men were pouring through the ramparts into the city itself. Which was,
actually, a problem.

This was his city. It wasn't some infidel's city, or a Lombard town that
needed to be razed. It was now the property of the King of the Greeks [20],
Phillip I. His brother wanted tribute and signs of triumph, but burning down
the city wouldn't do. Looters would have to be brought into line.
Remembering that, Henry thought of his wife's comments on the horses at the hippodrome. Those would look nice in Nuremberg, and should satisfy Henry. But he was not about to carve apart his Kingdom to make some former Welfs happy.

"Scire te volumnus quod in spiritualibus et temporalibus nobis subes"

"We wish thee to know that thou are our subject in all spiritual and
temporal matters"-Innocent III.

Nuremberg, May, 1201

Yet again, the nobles and representatives of the towns of Germany arrived in
Nuremberg. Many of them were no doubt tired of this, and were getting rather annoyed at the Pope for keeping up this sham. A representative of Frankfurt stood up.

"We forbid the export of precious metals; we forbid the export of weapons;
we expel foreign merchants [21]; we stand against his claims to be our
overlords. We shall shed our blood so that we remain free of Roman tyranny.
We support you, Lord Emperor!"

Henry smiled. It was nice to know that despite the Pope's lies, the People
of the Empire remained loyal to him. Perhaps he could persuade the Pope
after all.

Constantinople, May 28, 1201

Philip sighed. He could get used to the Bucoleon, the Imperial palace. Silk
sheets, incense, marble, gold, silver. the Greek kings certainly knew how to
live. Of course, maybe they had too much. He couldn't imagine a German
Emperor fleeing the fall of his empire, the way Alexius had. Thinking of
what Alexius's attitude had brought him was enough to inspire Phillip to get
up and get to work.

The spoils of the city had already been arranged. In addition to tribute,
the horses, and an acknowledgement of Henry as the true Emperor, Henry had had one more odd demand. Books, and lots of them.

Henry had come to realize that England had a university, France had
universities, and even the Spaniards had a university. But there was no
German university; only south of the Alps were there such places of
learning. How could the Emperor claim to be the ruler of the world if a
single Italian city had more knowledge?

Therefore, the great libraries of Constantinople were to be examined by
Germans and Italians, translated, and used to form the nucleus of the
University of Frankfurt. Books were already being carted off, and some of it
seemed interesting. The Cynics, in particular, seemed to have a decent code
of living, for pagans.

The Imperial armies were spreading throughout the Empire, promising a return
to the good days of yore under the daughter of Isaac. There were pretenders in Asia Minor, under a Lascaris, but he should prove easy to deal with.

Even the Patriarch was accepting the new situation. He'd finally left his
refuge in Dydmotichum and had attended the coronation, once Philip made it
perfectly clear he would accept the Greek rites, while making some vague
noises about a council. The Byzantine theory of the Emperor was rather
appropriate, actually, to what Hohenstaufens thought.

Phillip was finally getting down to writing orders to the army in Thrace
when a messenger ran in. Apparently the Venetians wanted to take the city
now, and their fleet had been spotted in the Aegean.

Some one really had to do something about them. Henry smiled as he
dispatched the orders to send the fleets back to sea.

Venice, July, 1201

Pietro Ziani, Doge of Venice, looked across the lagoon. Why, he thought,
could he have not been Doge in a happier time. The mighty armada that
Dandolo had set sail with was reduced to flotsam and jetsam in the Aegean;
the old windbag himself was on the bottom of the Marmara. What had
possessed the old fool to think that the Venetians would have a chance of
taking Constantinople? Why hadn't he sailed to Anatolia? [23]

Pietro had been elected with surprising speed, perhaps because the Venetians were aware that they would need new leadership. For the capture of Constantinople left a very difficult problem. Venice had always been,
nominally, a vassal of Constantinople; it had used that to play itself off
against the Western Emperors. With Constantinople and Germany under the
same rulers, though.

Pietro crossed himself. If he did not do something, the day might very well
come when an Imperial armada was in the lagoon itself. Already he knew that
Venice's privileges were going to be given to Pisa, and the city would face
perhaps its greatest challenge.

The question was, what could he do?

-------------------------------------------------------------
[21] This really hurts the Pope, since the collectors of ecclesiastical
revenue, and those who transport it to Rome, fall into this category.

These actions are designed to show the unity of the Empire behind Henry,
however, as much as anything else.

[22] Pietro isn't really being fair to Dandolo. Dandolo, (who died in a
naval battle I'm not going into the exact details of because I know I can't
do it without being horribly dull) reasoned that with its walls weakened
and the new administration settling in, Venice would have a reasonable
chance of freeing the city, and then turning it over to whoever offered
Venice the best deal.

What Dandolo failed to take into account was the size of the Pisan and
Sicilian fleets, as well as that the Sea of Marmara would constrict the
room to operate for the Venetians, who were already outnumbered (not having, after all, a year to build a fleet).

The battle of Constantinople will prove be a heavy blow for Venice, which
has lost many of its most able sailors. As a result, Venice's place in the
Mediterranean trade will be weaker, with slack being picked up by Genoa and
Pisa.

__________________

Prince of Peace 9

"The fateful moment is at hand when the tunic of Christ shall be rent again,
when the bonds of Saint Peter shall be broken, the catholic unity
dissolved"-Archbishop of Worms.

Adrianople, November, 1201

God, thought Theodore Lascaris, could work in mysterious ways. After the
installation of the Hohenstaufens in the City, he had tried to set up a
state in Nicaea from which to oppose the Germans. It had, it would seem,
turned out to be futile.

For one thing, the Emperor's pledge to restore the Empire's finances by
confiscating the estates of nobles in Anatolia and Thrace, and cutting down
on imperial expenditures, had won him favor in the city. But even while
doing that, he had dispatched an army to Asia Minor, to subdue Theodore's
"band of rebels". Not even pausing to sop, Phillip's army had continued to
Nicaea, and Theodore's hopes were dashed.

It was then that Phillip had offered him an interesting position. He could
be the sebastocrator of Thessalonica; away from his center of power,
Theodore would serve the Emperor by defeating the Bulgar hordes, who had
been sent by Kalojan against the Empire. Theodore looked over his Sicilian
and Greek troops. Good men. Better than the Bulgars, for certain. And if he
won, well, who knew what the future held for a victorious general of
Byzantium?

It would be said, after the battle, that the Pope called Kalojan King of the
Bulgars. After the battle of Adrianople, Kalojan would be known as King of
the dead[ 23].

Damietta, May, 1202

Richard laughed. "Henry thinks he can upstage me, can he? He may claim
Byzantium and Jerusalem, but I shall lead the Christian armies against the
capital of the Saracens, and sack their idolatrous cities of Mecca and
Medina."

Blondel, Richard's favorite minstrel since his youth, refrained from rolling
his eyes. Richard's obsession was getting to be a bit much. Granted, Henry'
s conquest of the Holy Land and Constantinople, and Sicily, was due in part
to Richard's ransom, but if he didn't start paying more attention to things,
he would end up with an arrow through his chest and a grave in desert.

Phillip also agreed. "I'll grant you that Damietta seems ripe to fall within
five months [24], but what then? Who will rule Egypt?"

Richard paused. That was, actually, a very good question. He'd be damned if
he gave it to Henry. Quite literally, given the Pope's new edicts.


Cremona, September, 1202

As usual with Henry, everything had come together rather nicely. The Council
had not met in Rome or Constantinople, but rather in the Ghilbelline city of
Cremona. It's goals were nothing short of world shaking; the removal of
Innocent and the reunion of Faith.

Unfortunately for Henry, they wouldn't shut up about the Filioque. It wasn't
a question of whether or no the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son as whether or not its use was legitimate. The Greeks cited the Council of Ephesus which said that no one could compose a face other than that defined at Nicaea, but the Latins held it was a clarification, and that the
Greeks had already changed the doctrine.

It had taken three months and the placement of troops outside their chambers to have them agree that the Latin formula meant the same thing as the Greek where it was now agreed to proceed from the Father through the Son.

Then the issue of the Pope had come up. Henry, this time, had favored the
Greek position. The Pope was first among equals in the patriarch's ranks,
and the Emperor was above them all. The Greeks would recognize Latin liturgy in the west; the Latins would recognize Greek liturgy in the Holy Land, but there Latin Liturgy would be used by the Kingdom. It was, thought Henry, a rather effective solution. The Council also considered the Donation of Constantine to be a sham, and declared that Sicily was part of the Kingdom of Italy.

The other issue was that of Innocent. The problem was that there was no
procedure for ousting a Pope for unfitness; the ground used, then, was that
Innocent had been found guilty of blasphemy, murder , simony, sorcery,
failure to fats on fast days, heresy, and collusion with the infidel in
supporting revolts in Sicily and the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Some of those
charges were even true.

The Council, then, decreed that the Pope was deposed. The new Pope was to be chosen within a year; Henry was hoping for a French candidate, so as to woo Phillip to his side. Phillip, actually, was the only serious king who
had sent delegates outside the Empire, although as observers only.

Not everyone agreed, of course. One of the French ones, from Paris, was
especially annoying.*But what," said the Bishop, "will you do with with
Innocent?"

Henry smiled. "I leave it to men of God to decide what must be done in the
service of God." Henry thought of the Byzantine practice of eye gouging.
Yes, that would do it.

The Lombards might prove difficult, but they could wait. He would offer them
concessions to make them at least remain neutral, and deal with them when
the time was ripe. Rome was not built in a day, after all. Rebuilding it
would be Henry's task until the day he died.


[23] Okay, a brief digression. Three powers thought they had the right to
create kings. The Pope, the Emperor, and the Baesilus. The Baesilus and the
Emperor are now the same dynasty, and the Pope was hoping that Kalojan would
be able to defeat Phillip and unseat him, but Phillip, aware of the Pope's
negotiations (for, after all, Henry had considered giving Kalojan a crown)
is able to sic Theodore on him. Demetrios is probably ecstatic that the
Lascarids are in the game, but hey.

[24] Damietta is weaker than in the Fifth Crusade due in part to the fact
that the Aiyubids haven't had time to prepare for war, consolidate their
holdings, and fortify the Nile. Having said that, the city is still no
walkover.

--------------------

Prince of Peace 10

Rome, August, 1202

"Octavian, by what aberration,
Do you seek to bring Rome to damnation?
How were you ever enticed
So to sever the tunic of Christ?"

The words of a Roman propagandist were running through Innocent's mind. What could he do? Henry's excommunication had failed; he'd merely joined the Greeks to his new Church under its Pope.

It was all Celestine's fault, clearly. If he hadn't sat by while Henry had
surrounded Rome, there might have been a way out. As things were, Innocent could only pray that God would show him a way.. He knew that there were those who whispered for accommodation with Henry, but there could be none.

Henry would not be satisfied until the entire world was his. And the damned
Romans didn't care; they knew that Henry had promised to ensure their
liberties and essentially give them free sway. How could they be so foolish?
Did they not see why he would want them strong against the Pope? Innocent
knew that he would not be safe in Italy.

There was, however, one place where he might find sanctuary. It was better, after all, to be the Pope in Rouen than Bishop in Nuremberg.

Rome, July, 1203

Henry laughed. "Pope Honorius III [25} should be pleased. The city of God
shall soon be returned to the Empire."

Henry's army, massing in Sicily and Lombardy for much of 1202, had finally
set out in 1203. He had relived his father's triumph at Tusculum,
shattering a force of twenty thousand. Rome itself lay exposed, and it had
already been besieged by a Sicilian force in March. Now the Emperor had come for the final blow against the Antichrist. He'd even brought Frederick with him. A boy needed to learn how to campaign, even if he was a bit young, and these Italians should get used to seeing their future Emperor.

To the Imperial war cry, German troops had smashed the gates of the Leonine City, only to find that St. Peter's basilica itself was ringed with strong points. It had held out for two weeks, but had finally fallen, and Henry VI walked unopposed towards St. Peter's throne. The Pope had fled, true, but who would believe him? Henry was angry that a Venetian galley had spirited him away, but to a man who had traveled from Hamburg to Jerusalem, nowhere was too far.

The altar of the basilica was charred and stained; the marble floors were
sticky from the blood of the dying. He walked through the Basilica, and
smiled. It would be said by chroniclers that, as he walked through the
Basilica, Henry could be heard saying, softly, "Omnes possessions mundi mei
mee sunt".

All the possessions in the world are mine.

August, Alexandria, 1203.

William of Norfolk looked around, shaking. He was, after all, only
seventeen, a young age to be going on the crusades. He was on the top of the walls of Alexandria, and so far the Saracens didn't realize that this part
was undefended. But if they caught on, he would die a painful death, far
from home, in an unmarked grave.

William silently scolded himself. It was not fitting for a warrior of Christ
to be afraid at such a time as this. He ran towards the tower, while behind
him more crusaders scaled up the wall. It was fortunate that the sentries
had noticed that this part of the wall was undefended, but that was, William
supposed, another sign of God's favor.

He unsheathed his blade, and led his men forward. The conquest of Alexandria had begun.

June, Cairo, 1204

Philip thanked God that the crusade was over. He would build a Cathedral
when he got home to celebrate the fact that he could now leave. And, he
supposed, that Egypt was freed.

They had even decided who would rule it. Amaury, the King of Cyprus, seemed to be the man for the job [26]. They'd been negotiating it for a while now, and it was merely a question of finding some one to give him a crown.

Even Richard was happy, although he had to be dissuaded from trying to sail
into the red sea against Mecca. He and Blondel were celebrating in their
tent. The King of France was more annoyed than anything else. Didn't Richard have something better to do than to carouse? There was the issue of the Papacy to deal with.

Phillip coughed. Damn it all, anyway. He'd been having headaches and chills
for the past few days. It was this unhealthy climate, and as far as he was
concerned, the damned Saracens were welcome to it. A few days of rest, and he would be fine.

Jerusalem, July, 1204

Hermann of Thuringia, Viceroy for Henry, King of Jerusalem, wondered, on his
bad days, if the Lord Emperor hadn't been punishing him by making Hermann
his viceroy in Jerusalem. An unholy thought, but he was far from the only
person to have such thoughts.

First there had been the issue of Antioch. Both Raymond Roupen, an Armenian who was the son of Raymond III. The merchants of Antioch had wanted to be ruled by Bohemond of Tripoli. It had taken all of his efforts to make them acknowledge Raymond Roupen as their lawful sovereign, and that in turn had angered Bohemond of Tripoli, who called in az-Zahir of Aleppo and Suleiman of Rum to join him in attacking Cilicia. It wasn't until 1202 that he had gotten that mess under control.

And now this mess in Egypt. Ah, God. Who would've thought that it would be
Philip who would die of plague? Why couldn't it have been Richard? And now
this mess with the Amaury. He hadn't accepted Egypt yet, but he was King in
all but name. He was slapping his overlord, the Lord Emperor, in the face,
and something would have to be done [27]. Eventually.

--------------------------------------------------
[26] In part because everyone else is a vassal of Henry's or one of his
deputies.

[27] Cyprus received its crown, and hence its claim to a kingdom, from
Henry. In return, Henry received the island of Cyprus as a vassal of the
Empire; by supporting Innocent and grabbing what Henry feels should be the
King of Jerusalem's, he is slapping Henry in the face.

Prince of Peace 11

London, July 4, 1204

Richard knelt before Innocent. He did not show it on the outside, but this
was the happiest day of his life. His brother was King of England, was he?

Innocent finally concluded. "In these times of crisis, there are great and
perilous threats to Christendom. The Holy See has been usurped; the Emperor
is a tyrant; and Jerusalem has fallen under the banner of the Antichrist. .
The false one has made an alliance with the Saracens, he has called upon
their help to war against Christians, and his existence is an offense to
God."

A rather nice bit to hear, John thought. But he knew the script. " Who would
not rise up against him who joins the enemies of the cross?"

Innocent looked upon John, and nodded. "To John, gracious and most beloved
by God, great and peace-loving Emperor, life and victory!"

There was a great cry outside the cathedral. The people were being treated
to a sight that they had never seen; an elephant which Richard had sent home
from the Crusade. One of many of the signs of the King and Emperor's
largesse, it would surely help win the people over to his new taxes.

He imagined their reaction to finding out they'd just witnessed the
coronation of an Emperor.

Paris, October, 1204

Louis VIII was starting to hate the Church. What kind of God would let the
Pope make John an Emperor? That was bad enough, but now the news from
Egypt. How convenient for Richard that his father had died in Egypt, just
after (amazingly) the crusade had finished. Richard could pretend all he
wanted that he was innocent, but did he take Louis for a fool?

Well, let him. It would take more than a king and some pretender to the
Imperial throne to frighten him. He would declare Richard a felon, and take
his lands. The Plantagenets would pay for what they had done. As for the
Pope.. Honorius would be most interested in Louis's letter about rejoining
the True Church.

Rouen, February, 1205

Gaillard was Richard's pride and joy. The greatest castle of his age, it
towered above the Seine river, defending Normandy, and rendering Louis's
claims impotent. It was also rather convenient for Richard to meet John,
because if his temper did get the better of him, there would be fewer
witnesses.

"How could you be so stupid? By Jesus's balls [28], did you have to go and
get into a pissing match with Henry? The title of Emperor?" Richard roared
at John, who, for once in his life, was showing backbone.

"You're the one who killed the King of France!"

"It was plague! It was the delta in Egypt! He wasn't the only one!"

"That's not what the French are saying!"

Richard resisted the urge to cut John's head off with his sword. Control of
one's self was, according to the priests, important, and he would listen.
Insufferable little brat, he thought. Maybe he should send John off to
Ireland again.

"Honestly! What did you expect! Now we are in a war with Louis VIII and
Henry!" Richard, by this point, was calming down. He was far from happy
about it, but he wouldn't mind seeing Henry beneath his horse's hooves.

John looked at the Papal legate. "Don't you think I realize that? But, as it
turns out," John said, glancing at the Papal delegate, "the Pope can dispose
of kingdoms as well as Empires, and there are many barons who are
dissatisfied with Louis and Henry. And apparently, at one point there was a
Roman Empire spanning France and England. Why could not those two realms be
equal to the an Empire in Germany? The Pope is free to do as he wishes with
the Empire, after all."

Richard was beginning to see. He looked at the Pope's delegate. Innocent
could be cunning, indeed.

Flanders, April, 1205

There was a saying in Flanders, perhaps due to their awareness of the sea's
dangers, about being caught between the devil and the sea. It could
certainly apply to Baldwin, the count of Flanders.

Flanders had been suctioned into Richard's anti-Capetian League of the
Common Weal through simple blackmail. England provided the wool that
Flanders needed, and Richard had threatened, as he had only a few years ago,
to embargo Flanders. With that kind of choice, how could he not obey? At
least Henry wasn't involved yet. What the devil was he up to, anyway?

Venice, June, 1205

The Great Council was divided amongst it self. By God, thought Pietro, were
they Genoese, ready to start spilling blood over this issue? Granted, it was
important.

One of the sestieri [29] stood up. "We would rather die than give ourselves
to Henry. We did not fight for a millennium against barbarians to surrender
to this new one."

At this point he was almost punched by one of the other members. "That's
easy for you to say, with your fortune at home. But our ships are sunk or
harassed; only Egypt remains open to our fleet. Acre, Byzantium,
Thessalonica, Palermo; we cannot trade in any of those as it stands. If we
do not agree to Henry's terms, we shall find ourselves forced to agree to
Pisa's!"

Pietro had to take action. He was a Ziani, and he would not sit by and be
known as the Doge who lost Venice. "War we can always have if we want; peace
we should seek if we can find it. Our enemies, Genoa and Pisa, are under the
Emperor's rule. The longer we wait, the harsher his terms will be. We might
end up with a German podesta, or perhaps with the destruction of our city."

He inhaled, and took off his ducal corno. "If we were Byzantines once,
surely we can pretend to be Italians."

Paris, February, 1205

Richard I, King of France, King of England, and Imperial Seneschal of the
Provinces of Gaul and England, called for more wine. He was entitled to
celebrate.

John was down in the south, with a royal army. He was driving on the Loire
Valley, and had met Louis's main army there. What Louis had not counted on
was the other army, drawn from Flanders and Bolougne and England. While John
was besieging La Roche, Richard and the Counts had marched on Paris [30].

Louis's army had been trapped near Bouvines. The fool had tried crossing the
Marque River with his baggage and infantry on one side and cavalry on the
other. A quick charge had destroyed the bridge, and Louis's cavalry had been
trapped by the Emperor's forces.

If only Louis hadn't gotten away. Paris should fall any day now; the true
Pope would be restored to France; and then it would be Henry's turn.
Granted, there was still much of France to mop up, but it wasn't as if a
French king could rule from Bourges. He looked up at the ramparts, and felt
his spirits soar. The banner of the Plantagenets was flying from the walls
of Paris.

Aachen, March, 1206

It had come to this, then. Louis was angry. Betrayed by his own nobles. They
'd sold themselves for England's silver, the lot of them. Baldwin.... he
might as well be Judas. Paris, his Paris, under the heel of Richard.

They would pay. All of them. Henry, at least, knew how to deal with rebels.
Henry was speaking now; they were in the Great Cathedral of Aachen, and he
was solidifying his alliance.

Louis took a deep breath and spoke. "In the name of the Lord, I, Louis, King
of France, in the presence of the nobles of the Empire, acknowledge to
Henry, Augustus of Rome, honor and fealty for my castles, my lands, and the
possessions of my kingdom. Let the world know that I hold him as my
sovereign, and he is my superior upon this Earth."

[28] More proof that medieval curses are weird.

[29] One of the twelve officials of state who checked the Doge.

[30] Basically the Bouvines campaign's strategy, however, England has more
money to throw around, and Richard can gain more support from the French
barons than Richard. Many of the French barons support Innocent in the
schism as well, all of which combines to make the French a bit weaker than
OTL and the English much stronger.

Prince of Peace 12

"I will bring evil from the north and great destruction"-Jeremiah 4:6

Lombardy, September, 1206

(This part is more of a narrative than the rest)

The cities of Lombardy were, in every way, a paradox to the Emperors.
Chaotic, destructive, constructive, as alien to the Emperor, in some ways,
as the Saracens, with their curious notions of republican government.

The Emperors, quite frankly, would never understand the supposed virtues of
Republicanism. How was Milan's petty bullying of its neighbors superior to
the Pax Romana? The Lombards wrapped themselves in the banner of liberty,
but their liberty involved petty feuds that tore their cities apart.

The Lombards, for their part, resented the Emperor's promises to suppress
heresy, resented he promise to suppress heresy. Catharism in particular was
growing rapidly in Tuscany, and they many feared that the Emperor's troops
would follow his priests [34].

Their other, very real fear was that urban liberties were to dismantled.
Henry had already weakened those in Southern Italy, which were in any case
much more limited than those of the Lombards. (Of course they may have also
looked at the cities in Germany, but Sicily was closer).

Even Henry's support of Cremona's rights did not assuage them. Of course he
would support Cremona. It was always his puppet in Lombardy. But he had
already declared his effort to restore imperial rights; and coming from the
King of Jerusalem, and the man who had had conquered Rome and Byzantium,
this was no empty threat.

Thus, the conquest of Rome had set in chain the events that led to the
formation of the Lombard League in March of 1205. Milan, Brescia, Mantua,
Padua, Treviso, Vicenza and Bologna had met, and had decided to reform the
Lombard League. The cities promised to hold together in resistance for
twenty-five years, until the threat to their liberty had been dismantled.
Smaller towns were there as well; Lodi, Vercelli, Faenza, and the new city
of Turin. The Lombards had blocked the Alpine passes, and Cremona had feared
that it would soon be joined to the empire of Milan. They had gone so far as
to recognize Innocent and John as Emperor.

However, not all the cities were there. Cremona, Milan's inveterate foe,
rallied to the Emperor; as did Pisa and Venice, although Venice preferred to
remain neutral. Parma, Modena, Ferrara, and Emilia, the towns between
Piacenza and Bologna, were unhappy about the League's revival by their
enemies. Verona also stood with the Emperor.

To Henry, this was an act of treason against God. Bad enough that the
Lombards had rebelled against his father. But to rebel against him now meant
that they could cut him off from Sicily, Jerusalem, and Byzantium. They were
putting Jerusalem in a perilous position, and Honorius willingly obliged to
excommunicate the rebels.

Henry had even proved willing to negotiate. He had demaned a 30,000 mark
fine, and the acknowledgement of him as their Lord Emperor. He had more
important tasks, but the Lombards had refused throughout 1205.

Thus Henry had left Germany in the late Spring of 1206, with an army of a
mere 5,000 knights and a few thousand foot soldiers.

Quickly traveling through the Alps, he arrived outside of Vicenza in August
of 1236. The Lombards had pitched camp by the Adige, waiting for the
Imperial army. There, the Lombards did not wait to see what would happen;
they ran away, leaving Henry free to take Vicenza, which he promptly did in
September. Azzo D'este, one of Henry's supporters in Italy, was given the
role of being the German podesta.

Henry had proven confident enough to return to Austria temporarily, where he
had reestablished contact with the German princes, and consolidated support
for the war in the west and south. Then, he prepared again for the campaign
of 1207.

November, Cortenuova, 1207

Henry looked over the battlefield, and nodded in satisfaction. Milan was
paying the proper price for its betrayal.

Henry had spent much of the year maneuvering with the Lombard armies,
careful to avoid battle, and reestablishing contact with his brother and his
viceroys in Sicily and Jerusalem. He had had his funds replenished by the
Byzantine tribute, and reinforcements had arrived from Sicily. Tired of
this, Henry had decided to try something new.

He had pretended that his army was withdrawing towards Cremona for the
winter. The Lombards had withdrawn at Pontevico and moved northward,
believing that there would be no battles this year. While the Lombards moved
north along the eastern bank of the Oglio, the imperial troops moved through
Soncino to Cortenuova. On the 14th of November, the Imperial army had surged
forward and collided with the Lombards. Thus had begun the battle of
Cortenuova.

Henry's main force had arrived to discover that the Lombards stood around
the carroccio [35] of Milan, defiant and stubborn. The battle was fierce,
but it was almost over.

The knights of Swabia attacked the carroccio from behind while the Emperor's
other forces attacked it from the front, like iron on an anvil. And like
iron, the Lombards were crushed, their ranks were thinning. He looked for
the moment, and saw it.

The Lombards broke, and those that could escape ran like the wind. The
humiliating defeat cost the Lombards ten thousand men, Milan's podesta would
be in chains, and Henry would lead the carroccio of Milan through Cremona
and send it to Nuremberg, where it might join the other relics of the
Empire. In Lombardy, the predictable occurred. The League began to dissolve.
Lodi was taken in December, and one by one, the other cities sued for peace.

November 14th would be known in Italian History as the Day of Disaster, and
Italians, centuries later, would say, "At least it's not Cortenuova."

Assisi, Italy, 1207

Francis was a troubled man. He had lived, on the whole, a good life [36].
But he had seen many horrors. How could Christ's church exist in such shame?
The pope was the puppet of Kings and Emperors; Crusades were called against
fellow Christians; and excommunication was used as freely as leaves to wipe
one's ass.

Why did Christendom need a Pope, anyway? True power belonged to God, not to
some German warlord who the Emperor placed in Rome, or to some coward who
fled to Rouen. Why could not men judge their own view of God? The horned
fiends of the hierarchy lived like princes while the people starved. Jesus
had not been an Emperor or a courtier in Rome, and if it was good enough for
Christ's son, it should be good enough for man.

Wasn't the Church already making a mockery of the faith? Judas sold his
savior for thirty pieces of silver; now the priests did it daily for a
penny. It could not be that man needed such people's help to ensure
salvation.

It would not be, it was said, until he received a message from Christ that
he would know what to do.

Prince of Peace 13

"He is imprudent, not to say foolishly so, in thrusting himself so
frequently into danger. He shows too great a recklessness of his own life.
"-Saladin on Richard of England.

Lescure, the County of Toulouse, March, 1207

Languedoc was known throughout Christendom for its wealth. Its verdant
fields, its enormous cities, and its burgeoning trade should have combined
to make the Count a major power. The fact that it did not could largely be
placed on the counts, and Peter II, King of Aragon, intended to exploit that
to the utmost.

Unlike the Catalans of Aragon, Toulouse had never truly faced war. No
Vikings had raided here, and the Moors had not raided this far north in
hundreds of years. Without lands to conquer, as in Spain, and not practicing
primogeniture, as in France, the territories were incessantly divided. Why,
they even divided castles amongst knights! Whoever heard of thirty knights
sharing a castle?

The Kings of Aragon already held much land north of the Pyrenees. They ruled
the County of Provence, Montpellier, Roussilion, the Viscounty of Narbonne,
and had vassals as far west as Comminges. But Peter had greater plans.

It was not enough to conquer the Moors. The Almohads were still too strong,
and he was not yet ready to fight them. To do that he would need men and
money, and Toulouse, lying on the borders of his kingdom, rich and impotent,
was all he needed to free Spain.

It wasn't, after all, as if Raymond deserved to hold those lands. He was a
heretic, pure and simple, and an offense against God, and a heretic from the
cradle. He even traveled around with a Cathar prefect! And this was the man
that the supposed John, Innocent, and Richard would support.

No, Honorius made more sense, and he agreed with Henry. Louis of France had
already announced that he had transferred the County from the "heretic and
rebel" Raymond to Peter; now all he had to do was claim it. Raymond had let
heresy fester and spread in his lands, like an infected arm, and he would be
the one to amputate it from the body of Christendom.

Ardenne, April, 1207

Richard's army was encamped outside the castle of Ecry, where the Count of
Champagne was holding court.

Richard's herald was outside, demanding his surrender. "We shall tear down
your walls and take your lands, unless you surrender to your lawful king! I
Shall have Champagne before this year is out; France will soon be mine.
Surrender now and I shall show mercy upon you."

Thibaud, Count of Champagne, spat, and shouted over the walls. "I could
defend these walls against you if they were made of butter. You shall not
see me betraying the King by giving a bastard of Henry homage. "

Richard raised his fist in anger. "I shall take your lands or die trying!"

Thibaud stared. Richard was standing outside of his castle, within range,
with no armor of note on. He looked over to his crossbowmen, and nodded.

The arrow pierced through Richard's stomach. Thibaud shouted over the wall,
restraining the urge to laugh.

"Then I suppose you shall, King of England. I suppose you shall."

Richard was quickly escorted back to Paris, where the best doctors in the
land tried to treat him. He would linger near death for a week, as gangrene
spread, giving him time to settle affairs. John was to be his successor.
His heart would go to Rouen, a gift to its citizens who had always shown him
loyalty. His body would be buried at the feet of his father, Henry II, as an
act of penance. His pride was to go to the Templars.

And to the County of Champagne he left his entrails, so that they would
stink up the region that had treacherously resisted his rule.

Rouen, August, 1207

Arthur paced back and forth along the castle's walls, cursing John. He may
have been the son of a whore and a bastard, but he was no fool. He'd
imprisoned Arthur in a castle, lest he escape [37] and revolt. The bastard.

Arthur should be the ruler of those lands. He was the rightful Duke of
Brittany, not John. If John was the King, it would only be a few weeks
before the Emperor sacked London and Louis was in Bordeaux. Arthur thought
for a moment. No, that wasn't fair. It would take a few months.

John was walking up the steps himself, with the clang of men in armor behind
him. Arthur looked down below. So this was what God had planned for Arthur,
did he?

John motioned at the men. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but you are clearly a rebel
against God's Lord Emperor and his Pope." Smiling, he pointed at the swords.
"You must be disposed of."

The men hesitated. "Go on, then," said John. "I haven't got all day."

Arthur licked his lips. This was his only chance. "John, as the defender of
the church, I beg of you a few days to do penance before God for my sins.
Surely you, as Defender of the Faithful, will accept that. If not for me, do
it for yours brothers. I am their blood as well. "

John looked at his men. They wouldn't kill him now. He sighed. Some things
you just had to do yourself. He began to draw his sword.

Sometimes, the fate of nations depends on a historical fluke. This was one
such moment, as John stumbled on a loose footing. Arthur saw his chance, and
kicked John, who stumbled back, almost falling. His courtiers rushed to help
him, and Arthur ran. He managed to grab one of the horses below, and rode
out. Knights were dispatched to chase him, but, in truth, their heart was
not in it. It was, after all, unchivalrous.

Arthur turned behind himself to shout, and yelled. "You shall regret this, John! Your sons shall pay the price of your
deeds!"

Nuremburg, September, 1207

Nuremberg was, thought Arthur, beginning to rival Paris.. The Emperor's new
Cathedral, it was said by some, was almost a Roman temple, and Arthur could
see it. It was rising above the city towards heaven, and this in its 5th
year of construction! Merchants and pilgrims thronged the streets, while
Frederick ruled in his father's stead, while he was on the campaign in
Lombardy.

Frederick's court was open, for some time each day, for courtiers and those
seeking his help. A few gold coins (but too few; he hadn't exactly had time
to plan his escape). Arthur had had to wait in line, but he knew he had to
make this count. He could not tip anyone off too soon.

He walked in, and prostrated himself before the Emperor, who spoke.

"What is your name?" asked Frederick.

Arthur, still on his knees, raised his head. "I am Arthur, Duke of the
Bretons!"

[37] Arthur is John's nephew by Geoffrey, son of Henry and Eleanor. He is
the rightful Duke of Brittany, incidentally.

Prince of Peace 14

"We make plain the triumphs of the Caesar"-Transcription before the Horses
of Nuremberg.

Milan, April, 1209

The city was subdued. Not just physically, thought Henry, but mentally. They
had tried to rebel, and were now paying the price. Once again, a
Hohenstaufen had conquered Milan. They had refused his terms; they had
spurned his title; they had made common cause with John. Now they were
paying the price. The sack had lasted three days, and the city was
devastated. Ironically, some of the greatest devastation was caused by the
levy from Cremona. No love was lost between those two cities.

Milan would submit to an imperial governor of his choosing. He considered
Frederick for a second; the child was still too young, sadly. Perhaps one
of the Sicilians could handle it. He shrugged. It didn't matter. All that
mattered was that Lombardy was his. Oh, the cities would still have some
power, but he could handle that. Christ knew that if he could handle the
German nobles, he could handle a few over pretentious towns. With Lombardy's
wealth, he could turn his sights on one of the richest lands in Christendom
that still remained outside his control. It would take a while, but by
then, surely, Frederick would be old enough to govern a realm properly

Henry got off of his horse and went inside the cathedral, which, although a
bit damaged in the sack, was still a holy place. He knelt down and prayed.
The Empire was so close, and he would restore to Christendom the Roman
Peace. That was all he had ever wanted. Just to restore the world to the
glories of Rome. One without upstart kings who laid waste to their lands by
bleeding it white, or arrogant Popes who thought they had the right to deny
entrance into heaven to an Emperor for being successful, or his subjects for
being loyal. One in which commerce would flow unhindered, in which his
subjects could sleep soundly, unafraid of attack. He honestly thought he was
almost as close as Charlemagne had been to restoring the Empire to its
height.

"Today, Lombardy," he prayed, "Tomorrow. the world." [35]

Bordeaux, (Aquitane) , April, 1208

Arthur felt his spirits lift. It had been a long, difficult journey to reach
Aquitane. He had had to avoid the County of Toulouse, where Raymond and
Peter were battling it out. To the north John was fighting with the Counts
of Flanders and Brabant against Louis, and to the east, Henry was besieging
Milan. Arthur shook his head. So much bloodshed, all because of one man.
There were times when he wondered why there needed to be a Pope and an
Emperor at all. Jesus and his disciples had had no need for them to spread
the faith, and now that issue was suffering and devastation across Europe.

Arthur smirked. Maybe the Cathars were right, and they did live in a world
ruled by darkness. Not that he would ever tell the priests that, of course.

Arthur had ridden with over a thousand knights from Germany, supplied by the
King of the Romans. Frederick II had offered him more support, but Arthur
did not want to be reliant upon the swords of the Empire. If it was anyone
else, Arthur would have thought he was trying to be made a pawn of
Frederick. But he was too young to do that. Wasn't he?

Arthur's men continued to race towards Bordeaux, knowing that John's men
were after him. William Da Braose [39] himself was on his way, and his
cooks were already at the city, preparing a great reception. There was not
much time.

Naturally, the charge of several hundred armed men towards the city caused
concern in the city, which closed its gates. Arthur rode his horse up to the
wall. There was a cry from the wall.

"Who are you?"

Arthur shouted, "Your lawful sovereign, Arthur, King of England and Duke of
Aquitane and Brittany! I have come to reclaim my lands and take vengeance
upon my treacherous uncle!"

There was a silence while the news was digested. Arthur yelled again . "Open
this gate I say! Do you wish to be known as the city that supports murderers
and heretics?"

He heard the sound of swords clanging, and a body fell over the side. The
gates of the city of Bordeaux opened.

William's men would arrive at the city a mere two hours later; the
Chronicler Guillelmus Armoricus, writing in Brittany, wrote that had Arthur
been delayed by a mere two hours, William would have beaten him to Bordeaux.

As the barons of Brittany, Anjou, Poitou, and Maine flocked to Arthur's
banner, ending his efforts to subdue Champagne, and as Peter II began his
slow advance in Toulouse, John would come to realize that sometimes, two
hours is all it takes to destroy what it takes a century to build.

Rouen, March, 1209

John was angry. It was bad enough that Arthur had escaped from his
imprisonment the first time (and he still couldn't believe that none of his
men would raise their swords against him at the time), but to have William
not capture him a second time was inexcusable.

Oh, sure, William would try to blame him for not giving him enough men, or
for making the barons hate him by imprisoning John and not producing
evidence of Richard's support for his claim to the thrones, but what of it?
Didn't he understand? He was the Emperor!

God had chosen him to be his instrument in the world. It was his duty, not
Richard's, to defeat the antichrist in Italy. If God could understand that
John was Richard's better, why not him?

His train of thought was interrupted by William. "My lord, if you had just
let me raise more men for Aquitane."

John cut him off. "Then we would have fewer men for Champagne, wouldn't we?
Our knights have raided to Bourges; by the time Henry returns to Flanders,
Louis will be a beggar in Nuremberg. Despite," he glared at William, "your
many failures."

William sighed. If only Richard hadn't died.. "But my Lord Emperor, if that
is the case, will you not lower taxes? Paris is being bled white, and I fear
the consequences."

"I know what is best, William. I am the Emperor."

William bowed and left the room. John may be the Emperor, but the Emperor of
what?

Paris, April, 1209

Joan was a simple woman, of simple means. Her father had been a tailor; her
husband was a tailor; her children, unless they were mercenaries, would be
tailors. She was a pious woman, and she attended mass every Sunday, as did
her daughter.

Which was why Joan was worried. Her daughter had gone to the mass for the
Vespers of Easter hours before, and she had not yet found her. It was
getting late, but she went out to look for her. A dangerous thing to do, in
a city at night.

She walked in to see the soldiers of the King of England and Emperor of the
World, John, raping her daughter. She screamed, in a cry, it was said, which
could be heard throughout Paris.

"My daughter! My daughter!"

Men rushed from their houses to see what was the matter. (Joan was, after
all, a well known woman who only complained when something serious
happened). They rushed upon the English [40], who, unarmed, were quickly
dispatched.

What began as a simple outcry against one incident spread across Paris.
Paris was not a glorified village like the cities in England. It All
across the city, a single cry could be heard. "Vive Louis!"

The Parisian Vespers had begun.

(Okay, yes, it's been done. But I feel that something of this sort was in
store for John, and any Timeline without its vespers uprising is a poor one
indeed.

And I do hope no one would dare think that either Frederick, Henry, or Louis
had anything to do with the city's revolt).

[38] Okay, a brief discussion on why Lombardy's falling rather easily. (If
by easily you accept a year long siege, massive battles, and the culmination
of years of consolidation in Central and Southern Italy.

First of all, Henry has control of Germany, unlike Frederick, who only ruled
it. This is weakened somewhat by the fact that Henry has to deal with
revolts in the Low countries, but is still a factor. Henry has a stronger
position in Italy as well, and the (Roman) Papacy's excommunications,
followed up by the loss of Milan's relics, convinces many that God is on the
Emperor's sides. Henry also has an awesome reputation; he's the Savior of
Jerusalem, Defender of the Faithful, Emperor of the Romans, King of Sicily,
Unifier of the Churches, and a whole host of other impressive titles. (To
his enemies he's the Antichrist, but every bad Emperor is).

Secondly, Milan is not liked. It's essentially been grabbing everything it
can, forming a small empire in Northern Italy. Henry actually tried to save
the city from much damage, on the basis that the city would pay more if it
was intact, but many levies from Italy couldn't be restrained.

The third factor is the strife within the cities. Old patricians favored the
Pope and John; the rising middle class favored the Empire, and there was
actually fighting between pro-Hohenstaufen factions and anti-Hohenstaufen in
1221, once Frederick II was actually in power.

[39] William is an excellent servant to Johnat this point, and holds
substantial lands in Wales and Sussex. He is currently running things in
Aquitane, and will shortly find that that is a rather hard task with a boss
such as John.

[40] Well, Normans, technically. But Plantagenet men, which is all that
matters.

Prince of Peace 15
Poster's Note: By this time, Henry has kicked the bucket.
It is on mathematics all rational explanation of the universe depends"-
Roger Bacon

March, Frankfurt, 1210

Wilhelm (or William of Holland, as he would be known) listened to their
professor, Grossteste [31], drone on. "Christianity," he was saying, "looks
back upon an evil, less perfect past. This implies that we are heading
towards a perfect future under God. But it also implies," he said, looking
at his class, "what?"

Some arrogant nobleman's son had decided to see what the university was
like, and was attending a few lectures. Wilhelm wasn't sure who the brat
was; he was a Hollander, and wasn't up to date on who was begetting who
amongst the imperial nobility. He said, "That our actions as servants of
Christ are supposed to be dedicated to improving the world, so that we might
build Christ's Kingdom on this earth."

Grossteste smiled. "Ah, but how?"

The nobleman thought for a second. "Prayer, of course, and piety. But also
through the use of science, surely? We are told, in the Secretum Secretorum
[32], that natural science is important for military problems and affairs of
state. But if God created the world, then is not learning all we can a sign
of worship?"

Grossteste smiled. "Ah, but how do you learn this knowledge?"

William stood up. "We know from Aristotle's dialogues that the key to
understanding is through observation and contemplating what we know [33].
But it seems to me that Aristotle focused too much on contemplation. We can
only observe what we see; we cannot start making up solutions, or focus on
dialectic works. Aristotle saw that we should focus on analysis, and precise
observation. That is the key to understanding how the world works. "

One of the other students stood up. "And how do you combine that with the
theory that God is omnipotent?"

The nobleman, surprisingly, grasped it. "Oh, don't be a fool. God can send
another flood, or block the sun, but that doesn't mean that he will. As far
as you and I know, he normally governs the universe with a set of laws that
we can study, to determine how he is operating the universe. And those
actions we can study, for they help us learn how to improve the world, and
to understand the majesty of God's creation."

The student grabbed onto the stool, as if ready to throw it. "I don't need
to hear this from some stuck up nobleman's brat. Who do you think you are,
anyway?"

The prince ignored him for a second, and bowed to William. "You appear to
have a promising future ahead of you, sir. Perhaps you should pay a call
upon my family when you finish your studies; we always seek to learn more
about the world."

The nobleman turned on the first student. "I am Frederick of Hohenstaufen,
King of the Romans. And who, pray tell, are you?"

Thus began a friendship that would be one for the ages. Frederick was a
different sort of Emperor. At the age of thirteen he was capable of running
Germany, and restless. He would often wander through the markets of
Nuremberg, or ride from Vienna to Aachen, where he would pray before
Charlemagne's tomb [40].

Frederick adored the Romans. He learned Greek, it was said, simply so he
could read the Byzantine works before they were translated. He preferred the
city of Nuremberg to the hunting lodges of Swabia. He was among the first to
read the works of Leonardo Fibonacci of Pisa, and bought booksfrom as far
away as Egypt or Toledo. His patronage of William of Holland is, perhaps,
as important an event of his reign as his wars against the infidels.

What follows are not so much all that happened, but the snippets that best
describe their relationship.


July, Frankfurt, 1219

The Lord Emperor was an impatient man. Little could keep him waiting. He
would ride through storms to reach his destination; he would brave the
storms of the North Sea or the Mediterranean; and he would even, it was
said, forsake Mass if it would give him more time to read.

The one thing he would wait through was one of William's lectures. The
class, which left rather quickly after realizing who was waiting to see
their Magister, stared in wonderment as God's Anointed Ruler, Frederick II,
strode up to greet William as if he was an old friend.

"So you feel that Alhazen is wrong, do you?" [42]

"I do, my Lord Emperor. All he had shown was that the light did not depend
on the eye alone. I am certain that the eye changes the medium and ennobles
it, and renders it analogous to vision, preparing the passage of light
rays." William said, gesturing.

"I believe that light propagate itself. " Frederick raised his eyebrows, and
William continued. "Something is continuously pouring from all living
things, flowing out in the direction of the Earth. I call them species."

"The species are tiny packets of light, reproduce and spread everywhere. I
also believe that we can condense and focus the species onto certain points,
giving us a greater view of faraway sights." William sighed. "I have
little time to test my theories, sadly."

Frederick laughed. "That's actually what I wish to talk with you about. Now
that I am Emperor, things shall be done as I please."

March, Frankfurt, 1222

Frederick stared through his invention at the moon. "My God," he whispered.
It was still blurry, but Frederick could see the hills of the moon. "You are
sure this is not magic?"

William shook his head. "This is merely a marvel wrought through the agency
of Art and of Nature. There is no magic in what I do, merely the exploration
of the wonders of God's world. "

Frederick put down the device, awestruck. By God, the moon looked like it
had seas and hills! It was as if it was an entire world! He had felt as if
he could reach out and pluck it. He whispered a prayer. "God, we are not
worthy of the majesty of your creation."

William heard it, and shook his head. "Perhaps, when Christ had not yet
arrived, or when our forefathers were still pagans, we were not worthy.
But," he said, "I believe that, over time, we are making ourselves worthy.
As we learn and improve ourselves, we understand more of the glory that has
been given to us." William gestured. "How, my Lord Emperor, can we not
believe that in a world where light can be bent to show us such marvels,
that there is not a God protecting us."

Frederick was still awestruck. If William was right, then they were
learning. Slowly, perhaps, but mankind was gradually learning. William
always said that what was discovered today would be common knowledge
tomorrow. And that was known tomorrow would be impossible today. Would his
descendents sail amongst the stars? That was a disturbing thought.

Frederick wondered, for a moment. If lenses could make things far away seem
larger, what would they do to things close up?

William was looking rather smug, which meant there was something else going
on. Frederick turned to him, and asked, "What else is there?"

William lifted up the telescope, and pointed it at Saturn. "Look carefully,
my Emperor. Saturn is encircled by spheres of its own."

Frederick saw them, and was impressed, and a little frightened. What could
they be? And if other spheres could circle Saturn, what did that mean for
Earth?

"My Lord Emperor, I believe those are the moons of Saturn. I humbly propose,
that I, as their discoverer, may name them."

Frederick nodded. How could he refuse?

William bowed. "I propose that we name them after the great Emperors of
Rome: Augustus, Constantine, Charlemagne, and Henry."

Frederick stared in awe. His father had built Nuremberg as a monument and
legacy for the Hohenstaufens. But how could that compare to this? "My
friend," he said, looking at the telescope, "you have built the Empire a
monument that shall last until the end of time. For that I can never repay
you."

Nuremberg, October, 1223

The Germans had a long and distinguished tradition. Among this was the
tradition of, at every feast, getting drunk. It was a sign of one's strength
as a ruler to be capable of this, and Frederick's inclinations to drink only
watered wine, unless at a feast, caused some to question his heritage. If
his mother had been a German, the reasoning went, he wouldn't have had that
problem.

So to did his habit of bringing William, a Magister of the Arts, to his
tables. And their discussions..

Which, as it happened, were going on now.

"Be serious, William," said the Emperor. "How can you believe that the stars
reflect light from the sun? The moon gets dark when the Earth gets in the
way of the sun, but the stars only get brighter without the light of the
sun! How can that happen if the light is reflected?"

William took a sip of the wine and thought. " The earth's shadow only
extends, essentially, as far as Mercury [42]. By the time the shadow reaches
the stars, there would be no effect because it is too small."

"Ah, but if that is so, then should not the stars eclipse one another? The
fact that they do not must mean that they are casting off light of their
own. It follows, then, that the stars are like our sun, but far away. If a
bonfire can look like a candle from far away, might not the same apply to
the heavens?"

William took another sip of wine, and bowed. "Yet again, My Lord Emperor,
you astound me."

Nuremberg, December, 1225

"Now I shall explain why the atomic theory of Democritus is wrong", said
William. His class looked on with interest. After all, if the Emperor liked
it, it had to be good.

"Let us use a simple piece of reasoning."

"Take a square made of atoms, like so:

XXXXX
XXXXX
XXXXX
XXXXX
XXXXX

It is 5 atoms high by 5 atoms wide. This means that the diagonal is not a
real number, and how can you possibly have a fraction of an atom?"

The class digested this. "You are saying that this is absolutely true?"

William shook his head. "Of course not. How can a mere man be sure of
anything in the world? I can merely say that based on my ability to look and
reason, I can disprove this theory. That is all any man can do." He looked
at hi class, and said, with words that would echo through the ages, "that is
what you shall do."

[31] Grossteste has been wooed to Frankfurt by gold and the books from
Byzantium. The presence of an invading Plantagenet army has also made his
stay there rather unadvisable.

[32] A medieval work which held that natural science had practical value.

[42] Alhazen was a natural philosopher who held that eyes only received
light, and set about proving it with a determination that should be admired.

[43] In a geocentric universe, of course. Although Geocentrism should get
interesting rather quickly.

Prince of Peace 16

"John, We come for you! We come for you! Long live the true Plantagenets!"-
Arthur of Brittany, standing on the English Channel, in 1211.

"Behold his condition and the ruin of his kingdom, the malice of the times,
and the cruelty of the tyrant who out of the furnace of his avarice is ever
forging weapons against the true King"- Chronicles of John of Norfolk

La Rochelle, March, 1210

Arthur looked around him and laughed. "By God, said Arthur, "John must be
furious". La Rochelle was the latest city to open its gates before him, and
Brittany, according to reports from merchants, had already thrown out its
John's garrisons. Evidently they had all decided that it was better to be
under Arthur than Louis or Henry. It was, Arthur decided, a good day.

His wife, Maria, came up beside him. She was a good enough wife, the
daughter of the Empress [44]. To be sure, she was supposed to have been wed
to Frederick, but that was years ago.

"Husband," she said, " I have news. I believe," she said, slowly, as if she
could hardly believe it, "that I am with child."

Yes, thought Arthur, it was a very good day.

Paris, June, 1210

"Hail King Louis! Hail King Louis!" the people of Paris cheered, with some
of them weeping openly.

Louis had acted quickly with news of the Parisian Rising. Despite the
urgings of some of his advisors, Louis had realized that his time had come.
Word of the risings had spread, and inspired the other cities of France.
There had been risings as far away as Orleans, and while not all of them
were successful, it was enough to make Louis weep.

Oh, true, he had been forced to make compromises. Flanders, damn it, had
been persuaded to come over with promises of amnesty and forgiveness, and
the great Dukes and Counts had confirmed their rights and expanded them.
That would be trouble, for later. But Louis was focused on the present
moment.

"Citizens of Paris," he called to the mob. "You have saved the kingdom. When
the traitors amongst the nobility made cause with the Antichrist and his
lackey Innocent, you were there. It was not some mighty army of nobles, not
some heroic knight, who saved the Kingdom. It was the people of Paris, and
for that," he said, taking off his hat," I can never repay you."

He gestured, and a cloth was taken off. "To that end, I have changed the
heraldry of my house. I hope that this banner will remind all of to whom we
owe the salvation of the Kingdom."

It was a simple banner, really. The colors of Paris flanked the white of the
Capetian dynasty; a red, white, and blue tricolor.

The people bowed before their king. "Hail Louis!"

"No," whispered Louis, "it is I who should bow." That moment, with the
adoration and praise of the people who had truly saved France, made it all
worthwhile [46].

Milan, October, 1210,

Henry nodded in satisfaction as he looked behind him towards the city. The
plunder and tribute of Lombardy had already gone north to Nuremberg. They
would be yoked to the Empire now, with the garrisons of the Emperor in Milan
and Cremona ascendant. It would take time, but, as they said, Rome wasn't
built in a day.

Markward had ridden north; he would be the overall viceroy for Italy; the
man was greedy and ambitious, but not so ambitious as to think he could
oppose the Emperor.

"My Lord Emperor," he asked, "What now?"

Henry looked north. "Arthur's rebellion has spread like wildfire; John has
been reduced to Normandy and England. The King of Aragon continues his
advance. All that is left is the final blow."

Markward coughed. "Where, my lord?"

Henry pulled a coin out of his pocket. One could tell, if one looked
closely, where it was printed.

Nottingham.

Markward stared at Henry, who continued, "Oh, don't be a fool. I can't take
it. But Arthur can, and he will confirm that England is a vassal of the
Empire. By then, all the great houses of Europe will be fiefs of the
Empire," he said, looking off, "and my sons can reap my harvest."


London, March, 1211

"And for obtaining the common counsel of the kingdom anent the assessing of
an aid (except in the three cases aforesaid) or of a scutage, we will cause
to be summoned the archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, and greater barons,
severally by our letters; and we will moveover cause to be summoned
generally, through our sheriffs and bailiffs, and others who hold of us in
chief, for a fixed date, namely, after the expiry of at least forty days,
and at a fixed place; and in all letters of such summons we will specify the
reason of the summons. And when the summons has thus been made, the business
shall proceed on the day appointed, according to the counsel of such as are
present, although not all who were summoned have come."

The Emperor of Christendom, John I, could feel his teeth grating as he
listened. The bastards, they'd betrayed him. Every last one. To stop them
from defecting to Arthur, he'd been forced to grant the very things that
made him king!

John forced himself to remain calm. Being impetuous was what had killed his
brother. He would not make the same mistake. He would deal with Arthur, the
son of a whore, and then deal with the barons.

John forced himself to smile. "This is a great day for the kingdom. With
your help, we can ensure the peace and prosperity of the realm."

The barons cheered. Let them, thought John. Their time would come.

Rouen, May, 1211

Eleanor was crying again. She had a habit of doing that, really. Arthur
smiled. In a way, that made the child much like her namesake. Fortunately
she didn't bother him much; that was what servants were for, after all.

Maria came up to him. "You leave tomorrow," she said. It was not a question,
but a statement.

Arthur nodded. "I don't have a choice. I don't trust Henry or Frederick. If
we are to avoid the fate of Milan, we must hold Henri II's domains
together."

Maria stared at him in shock. "You do not trust the man who was like a
father to me? Or the boy who is like my brother?"

Arthur scowled. "Don't be a fool, woman. I like them both; Frederick is a
bright lad, and he will do the Empire justice. But Byzantium, Sicily,
Jerusalem, Lombardy." Arthur ticked them off on his fingers. "He holds the
greatest lands in Christendom. How long will it be, you think, before we see
Frederick's army before Paris? Or before Bordeaux, perhaps?"

Maria shook her head. "They would never do that! They only seek to restore
unity to Christendom!"

Arthur snorted. "By restoring the glory of Rome. Rome, at its heyday,
stretched from Egypt to Scotland. I do not doubt that they would like to see
it again."

He paused for a moment, and said, "And I am afraid that with Frederick in
charge, it just might."

"That," he said, looking at Eleanor," is why we need England. If I can take
it over, and convince Louis of the threat of Frederick and Henry, we may
have a chance. If not." he said, looking into the fire, "I fear we shall all
be subjects of the Emperor."

Arthur was aware of what needed to be done. But sometimes, as all historians
know, what must be done is not.

Hastings, July, 1211

For the second time in two centuries, the hills Hastings saw the fate of
England decided. John had managed to secure the hills above the
battlefield, and with the momentum from the charge, had broken the center of
Arthur's army

Arthur would be remembered as the tragic prince by future generations;
fighting against all in the hopes of saving England from what lay ahead. He
would be considered the last flower of chivalry in a dying era, betrayed,
like the first Arthur, by those he had once cared about.

This would be cold comfort to Arthur, whose men fled past him. Arthur ran,
and fled.

He ran across the green hills of England, trying to reach the ships; but he
was caught, after only a few hours, by knights of the barons.

The men advanced towards him. He was trapped, he realized, as he saw men
behind him. His horse was exhausted; he could not escape. He wondered, in
his last moments, how long it would take before they realized who he was.

Not long. "He's Arthur! John will pay ten thousand marks if we catch him
alive!" cried one of the men.

Arthur looked around him. There was no choice, really. He wondered, in his
last moments, what would happen to Eleanor.

He lifted a dagger to his breast, and called out one thing before he plunged
it into his chest.

"It would have been best for us all if I had won. May God protect you from
what lies ahead."


Bordeaux, August, 1211

Maria wept. She must be strong, she knew. Louis would be seeking a chance to
take the lands of her Eleanor; he'd already proposed a marriage between his
son, Philip, and her daughter. She needed a protector. The barons of
Aquitane were as selfish and greedy as the ones she remembered in Jerusalem;
and she knew what had happened to Jerusalem's queens.

She was a stranger in these lands, with only a few nobles she could trust.
There was only one person in her family who could help her now.

Plymouth, October, 1211

It was, thought Robert Fitzwalter, the Lord of Dunmow, unfair. He had joined
the King against Arthur, defended the realm, and now the king had betrayed
him. He was fighting the barons, had broken their covenant, and had
confiscated lands across England.

He was not the only one leaving. William de Mandeville and William de
Huntingfield had joined him [45]. They would make their proposal, and then
break the back of the king.

He shivered, as a wind blew across the North Sea. He wished it had not come
to this. The Emperor's Eagle, flying over London. it was not to be wished
for.

But with a King who would take your lands and call you a traitor, who would
drag you into wars for a Pope and his delusions of grandeur, what else could
you do? Let John be hanged, as far as he was concerned. Robert's duty was to
his family, not to some King who rewarded loyalty with betrayal.

Hamburg, June, 1213

"The bark is ready, the wind at help, and all things bend, for England,"
said Frederick. He was impatient for the fleet to set sail. From all across
the ports of the Empire, men were departing for England. This would be their
finest hour; he would establish the base for the Empire to last a thousand
years.

And he would prove, once and for all, that he was not just his father's son.

"For England?" said William of Holland.

"Aye, William. The barons are still in revolt in Anglia. England is a fief
of the Empire, as even their King Richard acknowledged." He laughed.
"Richard gave us the money to conquer Sicily, and now he gives me a pretext
to take England. They trust that we shall leave them alone, and let them
rule in our stead." Frederick smirked. "We shall see."

William wasn't sure what to say, so took the opportunity to drink some wine.

Frederick continued, "The Plantagenets call themselves Lions. They boast of
their strength and majesty." He looked at the ships, which were finally
setting sail.

"We here in Germany have our own lions, amongst the merchants who sail the
seas in trade, and amongst the warriors who defend the land. Men, as you
prepare to bring the Eagle of the Empire to England, know this."

"Today is the day of the Imperial Eagle. Today is Aldertag!"

[44] Frederick II's marriage to her was annulled when Constantine was born,
since Henry already had an heir of his own to rule Jerusalem. With a male
heir of his blood to rule the kingdom, Frederick's marriage is irrelevant.

[45] All barons who supported Magna Carta and invited the Dauphin over.
Here, the Dauphin is much weaker; and the Emperor has promised them great
concessions in England. They are also reassured, ironically, by looking at
Germany, where the Emperor has not trampled on the rights of the barons;
only of the cities of Lombardy.

It's not the best option, but it's the only one they have.

(Well, their best option would have been to let Arthur win, but I didn't
think that was that probable)

[46] Yes, this is out of order; I added this comment at the last minute.
The notion of white being the color of the monarchy is fuzzy; some sources
trace it back to Joan of Arc, others do not.

So let me explain how the white arose for the monarchy in TTL. When Richard
took Paris, he adopted the red flag of St. George, which was traditionally
the color of the monarchy, and placed it in his heraldry.

Louis adopted a simple banner of white (in part because it was cheap to
produce) mainly because it represented his call to purify the kingdom and
the church from the corrupt, despotic practices of Innocent, and to purify
the realm of traitors.

Red and blue were, as much as I can tell, were the colors on Paris's
heraldry from before this time.

Prince of Peace 17

"And the Germans came across the sea like lions, pursuing all before them;
and they harried the land, and laid waste to the fields.- John of Norfolk

St. Paul's Cathedral, April, 1214

"The throne of England is vacant, since John has been condemned in our
court!" cried Robert Fitz Walter.

"Let the will of God be done," intoned Frederick. He looked as the crown was
placed before him. But rather than let them place the crown upon his head,
Frederick took it out of their hands and placed it upon himself. This crown
was his because he was emperor, not thanks to the barons.

Outside the cathedral, the people of London cheered. The Prince of Peace had
come amongst them at last, to drive away the bad times of the Plantagenet
kings, with their heavy taxes and confiscations. No more endless wars in
France, just the Imperial Peace, in which they would all prosper.

They would be disillusioned within two years.

Frederick, meanwhile, listened to the rest of the ceremony halfheartedly,
while he considered his options. Demand homage from Scotland [46] and
Ireland, as well as the princelings in Wales, of course. But the real threat
was John. He had been driven to the north, and the only pockets of
resistance to the south were in Windsor and Dover. He clenched his fist.
They would be dealt with soon enough.

Riding out of the cathedral, he called to the crowd. "London, you have been
brought back into the fold of the Empire! May the glories of the Pax Romana
bring you prosperity in the years to come."

All across the city were signs of the Emperor's might. At the city's tower,
the banner of the Empire was visible from St. Paul's, rumored, it was said,
to have scared away the ravens. Frederick nodded. The eagle, from the
tower, looked upon all of England. Soon, so would he.

Newark Castle, July, 1214

John screamed at William de Broase. "You incompetent fool! This is your
entire fault again! You let Arthur escape, you left London fall, and now you
have not stopped Frederick from capturing Dover."

William remained calm. The King was drunk, he knew. Innocent was dead,
France had fallen, and even now Frederick was preparing to march north. "My
Lord, if you had just given me more men, I could have done better."

John advanced on William, drawing his sword. "From where? Thanks to you, I
have no more men. I have nothing!" He staggered forward. "And neither shall
you!"

William drew his own blade, quickly. He knocked the king's blade out of his
hand, and regretfully walked out, smirking. He couldn't kill John, although
that would have been for the best. But that was no surprise, really. If he
couldn't kill a pretender, how could he kill the king?

Lincoln, August, 1214

Frederick wrinkled his nose at the odor. Lincoln had not fallen without
heavy fighting, and the castle had cost him many men. But he had men to
spend, and John did not.

There was, however, one man that he wished to see. He looked in contempt at
the wretch before him. "Your brother, at least, would have gone down with a
sword in his hand."

John moaned. Dirty, bruised, bloodied, and battered, he resisted the urge to
weep. He must be strong, he knew. He may very well be the last king of
England. The people must have something to remember. "What will happen now?"

Frederic looked around. " I will be the viceroy in England, until my father
goes to God. England will be brought into line; a hard task, but if my
family could manage it with Sicily, we can manage it with England. I am also
the protector of my niece's lands in Aquitane, Normandy, and Gascony. We
have received homage from Alexander of Scotland. "

Frederick looked at John. "Ah, but you meant yourself, of course. You will
go to see my father in Nuremberg, and stand trial there for your crimes
against God and the Empire." He paused for a moment, grinning at John. "May
God have mercy on your soul, for he shall have none."

John coughed up blood, and groped for the dagger in his boot. If he could
just reach it, he would make amends. Let the people know he had not died on
his knees.

Frederick kicked him, cracking ribs. "No, you fool, you will not die a hero'
s death. You are a heretic, a threat to God's established order, and you
will die as one." John was dragged away, moaning, towards his fate in
Nuremberg.

Runnymede, March, 1215

Frederick looked at the barons. The fools. Did they really think he could
trust them, or would, once he had won?

"No, no, and again, no. I will not be bound by some treaty you made with the
false king John."

The barons stared at him. How could he have done this to him? Robert of Fitz
Walter spoke. "My Lord, we did not protest when you gave lands to your
soldiers form the Empire. We did not protest when you raised taxes as a
penalty for supporting John. The pope himself supported this."

"But," said Robert, "this goes too far. You said that you would support our
rights!"

Frederick nodded. "I did, and I do. The rights you claim to have gotten in
your "Magna Carta" [47] are not the rights of barons in England. You wrung
those from John as the price for supporting him against Arthur. I am your
King and your Lord Emperor."

"But, my lord," protested Robert, "the Magna Carta."

Frederick roared. "The Magna Carta, you say?" Frederick walked over to the
treaty, which lay on a table. He picked it up and ripped it in two.

"That for your Magna Carta. And, by God," said Frederick, "you will meet the
fate of John if you rebel."

Robert and the other barons rode off the next day. They were, Frederick
knew, preparing rebellion. Let them.

He had an army, paid for by the plunder of England and Lombardy. He would
defeat them, and establish his superiority. There was no one to help them
now.

"I the court of the most honoured king that ever was of any king. This was
the good King of Aragon, father of worth, son of liberality and lord of
happiness, of kindly and loyal nature who loves, fears and believes in God
and maintains loyalty and faith, peace and justice; wherefore God loves him
for such is his conduct with his subjects that he is God's foremost knight
and the warrior against His enemies. Never did God find in him defect;
indeed the chiefest of battles was wrought by him and he has conquered those
by whom God was scorned. "-Troubadour on Peter IIof Aragon.

Toulouse, December, 1215

"How can I give Louis homage for Toulouse? Kings can only receive homage,
and may only give it to the Emperor. He is your master's lord, and mine. Why
should I pay homage for Toulouse to Louis when I already pay homage for my
lands to Henry?" Peter, King of Aragon, Count of Toulouse, said, watching
for the reaction of the French King's delegates.

"But you would not be giving homage for Aragon, merely for Toulouse."

Peter cut him short. "It matters not. I only owe homage to Henry, to whom I
freely give it. I greet your lord with affection, but I will never bend my
knee before him."

Peter laughed as they left the court. He was a busy man, and had other
things to do than knock down Louis's claims. If it came to war. so be it. He
had the support of Frederick in the west, Henry in the east, and Louis ruled
a land wracked by war.

Peter leaned back as he listened to the troubadours, relaxing. By God, he
was entitled to some relaxation, after all he had been through. He ran
through his achievements, proud of what he had left behind.

He had taken Toulouse by strength and guile, walking the delicate line
between supporting the Cathars and wiping them out. They were heretics, and
as such, an offense to God, but, frankly, if he could rule Muslims, he could
rule Cathars.

For now.

He had fought with the Christian Kings of Spain against the Almohads, had
stood firm against the wave of Saracens who had crashed upon his lines. The
men of Aragon had stood firm, and the Almohads had been broken forever.

Peter II smiled contentedly. God, really, had been kind to him. He had a
good run of luck, to this point. He would not mind some more.

The troubadour's music stopped, reminding him of what was going on. Peter
clapped, and called for more.

Paris, July, 1216

Eleanor of Brittany was, by and large, a peaceful woman. But there were
times when her husband infuriated her.

Right now, when he was drunk, was one of those times. He was furious that
Peter II had betrayed him, and Henry had supported it.

Eleanor was furious too, actually. Those lands should have been hers and her
children's. But there was no use in crying over spilled wine.

Eleanor knew she had to calm Louis down. "Think, my King, why we supported
Peter. It was either him or Raymond, who could have caught us in a pincer
grip between himself and Richard."

Louis gestured with his wine cup, which fell out of his hands onto the
floor. "We could have won. With assistance, we would have driven them both
back without Aragon."

Eleanor laughed. Louis was always a fool when he was drunk. "With who, pray
tell? Frederick? Oh, there's a brilliant idea," she said sarcastically. "And
do you think that maybe it would have been a bad idea to have imperial
troops garrisoning our castles? Would you rather see Frederick in London or
in Paris?"

Louis shivered. The Caesar in Paris. it didn't bear thinking about. "We
could have taken Toulouse for ourselves, or won him over."

"Blood is thicker than the ties of fealty, Louis, which, in any case, he
owed to Richard. You know that as well as I do; he wouldn't have joined us.
Peter was the only way to remove Raymond."

Louis put down the wine, which was a good sign. "So what should we do?"

"We wait, and watch. We rebuild. We prepare for the time when our son
Charles can strike." She looked north, towards England, where Frederick's
German troops had crushed the barons.

"There will be a time, Louis. Of that, I am sure."

Soublaeum, Asia Minor 1215

"Baesilus, the Turks have been spotted," said one of the commanders in
Phillip's army.

John smiled, baring his teeth. The Sultan Kaikosru of the Seljuks had
thought that he could take the cities of the Meander. He would prove to be
mistaken.

Philip was known as the Spartan King by his subjects, for two reasons, with
the first being his cheapness [48]. With the tribute that his brother
demanded, and the defense of the Empire, he found himself forced to cut back
on the lavish luxuries of the Empire. He also had to confiscate land, which
had, to put it mildly, made him less than popular with the nobles of the
empire.

But the other reason he was called the Spartan King was the reason they
would never refuse. Philip had reformed the Empire. His stratioitai [49] had
been praised even by Henry, who he had sent some to for help against the
Lombards. He had redistributed land to his soldiers, tying them to help
defend the borders in Anatolia. He had fought the nobles, and won.

His son, Alexander, came up beside him. "Father, are we going to win today?"

Phillip beamed at his son, Alexander. He was, he thought, the best of his
father and his mother. Alexander had his mother's charm and wit, and his
father's skill at war. Even at his young age, Phillip could see a bright
future for Alexander. Who knew what he could accomplish?

"Yes, my son, we are. We are going to fight the Turks and beat them so hard
they won't stop running until they reach China."

Alexander laughed. "And then we'll beat them there!"

Phillip nodded. "Well, no." He looked at his son, smiling. "You will, or
else!"

The battle proved to be harder than Phillip had anticipated. The Seljuks
were wily fighters, and there were many of them. So many arrows fell that it
seemed as if they darkened the sky, and then the unthinkable happened.

The center of the army broke. The soldiers of the Emperor began to flee, and
it looked as if it would be another loss against the Turks.

Which, of course, Alexander would have none of. He kicked his horse and rode
out into the battlefield.

"To me, Romans! To me!" Alexander, without any guard, rode out towards the
fleeing men. The soldiers, seeing a mere boy rush to face the Turks, took
heart, and turned around, crashing into the Turks, who were not expecting
the event.

The battle of .Soublaeum would last for several more hours, during which
both sides would suffer heavy losses. But at the end of the day, Kaikosru
would be dead and the Byzantines victorious, all thanks to the young
Alexander.

Thus began the saga of one of the greatest Emperors in Byzantine history,
Alexander the Great.

Cairo, March, 1212

Hugh I, King of Egypt, [50] bit into the melon. By God, he thought, the
Easterners always seemed to know how to live. In Cyprus and Egypt, they had
possessed comforts that the Emperor himself would be amazed at. Egypt was
the richest land along Outremer, and as its ruler, he enjoyed the fruits of
the labor of his serfs.

That wealth was what had brought the Pisan ambassador to Cairo. Apparently,
they had come upon an interesting idea. The Saracens controlled the routes
east? Fine! Let them take them! But the Romans had traded via the Red Sea,
and now Christians would trade there again. Already Ethiopia was being drawn
back into the Light of Christendom, and trade, it was hoped, would blossom.

The Pisan ambassador, however, had bigger plans. "It is possible," he said,
slowly, " to build a canal to link the Nile to the Red Sea. We can thence
sail to the East, and cut the Muslims off."

The king smiled. "And of course, Egypt, as the center of this canal, would
prosper."

The Pisan nodded. "There is but one flaw; the Emperor's attitude towards the
Kingdom of Egypt."

Hugh gave the Pisan an odd look. Why hadn't he heard the news? "Oh, well
now, once I made amends for my dear father's rash actions and swore fealty
to the King of Jerusalem, he accepted me here. Henry has greater dreams than
taking Egypt, and doubts that it would be worth it."

The Pisan positively beamed. "A toast! May we soon find ourselves with more
wealth that the emperor finds worthless!"

"Hear hear!"

Nuremberg, July, 1217

Henry coughed again, causing his son to look on in horror. Henry looked at
the boy. No, man. Where had the time gone? Where was the child who had
looked on in awe at his brother Constantine? Who he had held in his arms?
Instead, he saw a battle hardened soldier, who had already won campaigns in
England.

"Is there nothing I can do?" asked Frederick.

Henry inhaled, coughed some more, and talked again. "Of course there is
something you can do." Henry rasped for breath. "Finish it."

Frederick nodded, and touched his father's hands. Henry closed his eyes, and
whispered, so quietly that only Frederick could hear it, "Constance."

Frederick, closed his eyes, prayed, and whispered, "I will not fail you,
parents. In my time, I will ensure that there is peace." [51].


Nuremberg, September, 1217

The Emperor of Christendom's coronation was ready. From England to
Jerusalem, from Aragon to Sicily, men were in attendance to pay fealty to
their new Lord Emperor. As such, Frederick wanted to make sure the event was
one they would remember.

On the great day of the coronation, the procession left the cathedral,
flanked by a thousand knights from across the Empire. Twelve hundred
burghers lined the avenue, in gowns of gold and gowns of crimson. Houses
along the avenue were hung with silks and tapestry, and the street
themselves were covered with fine fabrics.

Entering Nuremberg, the procession passed under a heavenly sky of cloth
stretched over the the gate, filled with stars, beneath which children
dressed as angels sang glories to God and the Emperor. Next the procession
passed a fountain which ran with red and white wine, served free to people
from gold or silver cups, depending upon one's rank. A grand banquet with
over ten courses, each with five plates, was held, and even elephants from
Africa traversed the city.

It was, truly, a coronation to remember; the arrival of the Prince of Peace.
Such wealth, such glory, it was said, had not been seen since the days of
Rome. It was a magnificent beginning to the reign or the greatest Emperor.
Rome had been restored; from the Orkneys to Red Sea, all of Christendom paid
homage to its Lord Emperor.

Yet there were those who were opposed to the Emperor. A new generation, one
raised in a world with the Emperors ascendant, was beginning to come of age.
A generation of Lombards, of Englishmen, of Greeks, who had no need of an
Emperor. Conquering the Empire was one thing; keeping it would tax even The
Wonder of the World.

[46] Alexander II giving homage to the invader merely because he controlled
London? Hey, it happened in OTL, when Louis invaded England in 1216.

[47] Okay, this Magna Carta is roughly similar to OTL's agreement between
John and the barons, but favors the barons. Barons had a say in official
appointments on their lands, for instance, and it cannot be done without
their consent.

[48] Cheap being a relative term in Constantinople. Plates of silver rather
than gold.

[49] Essentially heavy cavalry.

[50] Technically Hugues, but that's rather awkward for an English reader.

[51] Incidentally, Frederick rather handily crushed the baron's revolt in
England. The lesson here is that don't expect a foreign invader to respect
your rights.

Prince of Peace 18

The Pope may be German but Jesus is Italian!"-Lombard saying, 13th century

Pisa, July, 1213

"What need do we need for a Pope or an emperor?" thundered Francis of
Assisi. "The Emperors were never friends of the early church, and it was not
the Popes who converted the people of the Empire."

"It was the good and simple men, the poor followers of the Great King in
Heaven, who led the way. It was not some rich Emperor, who spends our money
on fountains of wine, who converted the people. It was the poor of Christ."

The people were murmuring amongst themselves, impressed. "And, by God, what
need do we have of an Emperor? What has ever brought to us? Only armies bent
on conquest and destruction. I was there when Constantinople was taken, and
I can tell you this. It was not done by some pious Emperor. It was done by
an ambitious lord seeking on extending the rule of his family!"

"I call upon you, people of Pisa, to return to the fold. Together, we will
build a clergy of all believers."

The above represents one of the typical sermons given by Francis and the
followers of the Franciscan heresy. The heresy had its roots in many
different problems with the Church. The sack of Rome, and the puppet Pope of
Honorius, had caused many to lose faith in the Church. How could it just
passively sit by while it was in schism?

This was not the only problem, however. Many of the clergy were simply using
the church as a way to make money; communion could be denied to members of
the church who could not afford to pay, making the entire service a mockery.

There was also another, political factor. With the Emperor as the Sword of
Christ, any effort to oppose him also meant they were opposing the Church.
And conversely, those who sought to oppose the Emperor found comfort in
heresy.

The Franciscan beliefs were simple, actually, drawing on much of the
Waldensian heresy. The bible was to be translated into local dialects, so
that the laity could understand and interpret it. The church was to return
to the poverty of Christ; purgatory's existence was denied, as was the use
of indulgences. The bible contained the whole of Christ's beliefs; this
essentially meant that almost all traditional rite and liturgy was
unnecessary.

Where the Franciscans really differed was in their belief that there was no
need for an Emperor. An Emperor had only been necessary for the Romans
because they were pagan, and needed an autocrat to keep them in line.

But Christians were different. All Christians were equal under God, as all
were descended from Adam and Eve. Christians could only be ruled by a king
if he would acknowledge their rights and privileges; if he did not, he could
be overthrown [52].

But the ideal method of governance, according to the Franciscans, was the
Respublica Christiana; the Christian Republic. It could only be applied to
those who truly understood the teachings of Christ (Read: Franciscans and
hence Italians). But in the Respublica, Christians appointed their own
rulers by election. The Respublica would be a loose governing body, in
which each city chose their own rulers. Christians, having learned of the
teachings of God, could create laws by common consenesus, and did not
necessarily need some higher (mortal) power to order them As heirs to the
true heritage of Rome, they would bring forth the Last Age of mankind by
creating the Republic of God.
---
"And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did that countenance divine
Shine forth upon those clouded hills
And was Jerusalem builded here
In this land now full of ills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire.

I will not cease from dear fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
"-Joseph of Southampton [55]

Canterbury, July, 1219


Joseph of Southampton had been a monk for years, and in that time he had
done research into the history of England. He was but a simple monk, and it
was felt, by some at least, that one such as he could not oppose the
Emperor. Joseph knew that was absurd. The Empire had no claim to England.

The true history of England must be told, thought Joseph, one day in 1217,
and he set about writing it. Joseph's work would not be completed until
1223, but the work, The History of Britannia, struck at the very notion of
Imperial supremacy.

First, Joseph attacked the notions of Roman superiority. Britain had been
settled by Brutus, the heir of Aeneas of Troy, the man was supposed to be
the founder of Rome. There, Brutus had founded the city of Troia Nova, which was corrupted, over time, into London [53].

England was not a Roman province; they were the heirs of Troy, and thus
Rome's equals!

England, according to Joseph, had then been ruled by the mighty king Llud,
who had actually built London before the Romans came. And England had
prospered and grown rich under the heirs of Troy, even defeating and
throwing out Caesar himself. [54]

Which led towards the next part of his heresy. It holds that England was
the first place in the world where Jesus's word was truly heard, and that
England was the first Christian state. Douglas claimed that Joseph of
Aramathea traveled to England around 38 AD. Indeed, Jesus himself had told
Joseph to travel to Britain, saying that the British were one of the tribes
of Israel. Joseph had taken the Holy Grail with him to England, and Arthur
had found it on his quests. When he was almost killed by his treacherous
nephew, he had drunk from the cup. He did not die, but was asleep until
England would need him again, when "the tyrant's heel lies on the shore".

In England, while the proud Britons fought a decades long war against the
Roman tyranny, and while the Romans turned their back on the teachings of
the Saviour, the Britons stepped into God's grace. It was in England, not
in Nuremberg, or Rome, or even Jerusalem, where Christ's word was heard.

Thus, the book also attacks the notion of Roman supremacy, for why should
the first Christian nation pay homage to the home of Christ's persecutors?
According to Joseph, there was no reason that England must obey the
teachings or orders of the Emperor or Pope.

Joseph would devote his life to teaching the people of England about their
proud heritage, traveling the country, and preaching about the glories of
lost Britannia. His words would help inspire rebels and bandits, such as
Robin of Nottingham, in the struggle to come.

Nuremberg, March, 1220

The expedition east was finally ready. Frederick was sending two
expeditions; one by sea, through Egypt, and one by land. Expensive, but it
may prove beneficial.

Frederick looked at William, oddly. "Do you truly think that they will find
Prester John's Kingdom?"

William shrugged. "Truthfully, I cannot say. We are dispatching these monks
East to learn as much as we can about the knowledge of East, and see what we
can bring back to the Empire."

Frederick wondered. "What do you think they have in the East that we could
use?"

William gestured at the Emperor's silken clothes. "My lord, it was you who
read how Justinian stole the secret of silk 600 years ago, when it was an
ancient art in China. Who knows what they have today?"

Hangchow, 1225

Excerpts from Mark "Millionmen" of Munich's There and Back Again: From
Cathay to the Empire:

"Amongst the People of Cathay there is great wealth. The people are
Idolaters; and they use paper-money. Both men and women are fair and comely,
and for the most part clothe themselves in silk, so vast is the supply of
that material, both from the whole district of Kinsay, and from the imports
by traders from other provinces. And you must know they eat every kind of
flesh, even that of dogs and other unclean beasts, which nothing would
induce a Christian to eat. They use two small sticks to hold the food, and
lift it into their mouths between the spears. "

"All the streets of the city are paved with stone or brick, as indeed are
all the highways throughout realm, so that you ride and travel in every
direction without inconvenience. Were it not for this pavement you could not
do so, for the country is very low and flat, and after rain 'tis deep in
mire and water. But as the Emperor Cathay's couriers could not gallop their
horses over the pavement, the side of the road is left unpaved for their
convenience. The pavement of the main street of the city also is laid out in
two parallel ways of ten paces in width on either side, leaving a space in
the middle laid with fine gravel, under which are vaulted drains which
convey the rain water into the canals; and thus the road is kept ever dry."

" Both in their commercial dealings and in their manufactures they are
thoroughly honest and truthful, and there is such a degree of good will and
neighbourly attachment among both men and women that you would take the
people who live in the same street to be all one family."

". . . Of this place [the city of Tin-gui] there is nothing further to be
observed, than that of cups or bowls and dishes of porcelain ware are there
manufactured. The process was explained to be as follows. They collect a
certain kind of earth, as it were, from a mine, and laying it in a great
heap, suffer it to be exposed to the wind, the rain, and the sun, for thirty
or forty years, during which time it is never disturbed. By this it becomes
refined and fit for being wrought into the vessels above mentioned. Such
colors as may be thought proper are then laid on, and the ware is afterwards
baked in ovens or furnaces."

"And amongst the people of Cathay, they have the ability to make copies of
manuscripts by an artificial conveyance. They have a way to manufacture such
copies, so that each of their words can be cast into clay and pressed upon
paper; and it is thus repeated, allowing for many copies to be made. With
their cumbersome writing it is most effective, but it will work with ours.
The letters are moved around, and the work is complete [56]"

"And amongst the people of Cathay there is a way to propel great arrows at
their enemies, who are powered by burning a compound of saltpeter, charcoal,
and sulfur, and they are hurled against the walls of the enemies of the
Emperor of Cathay."

"The plows of the Chinese are curved, unlike our own. Unlike our plows, it
turns itself with a minimum of drag, and eases the burden upon the peasant.
So efficient is their plow that a single animal can pull it, whereas the
plows of the Empire require eight animals."

"And Cathay also possesses a manner in which to plant seeds which is
superior to our own. This device consisted of small plows that cut small
furroughs in the ground, a tool that releases the seeds, evenly places into
these furrows, and a brush or roller that covers the seeds with dirt. The
seed drill can be adjusted for different types of soil and seeds. This
method of planting is so superior that it could increase productivity
tenfold".

"In metallurgy, the Chinese know of a process to make such iron as we have
never seen. When heated in the presence of charcoal, iron will melt; and
this is run off, into molds. it is so advanced that they can cast the iron."

Frankfurt, May, 1223

The University of Frankfurt was divided, like most universities, amongst the
"nations" of those who attended. There was the nation of the Germans, which
included Poles, Bohemians, Hungarians, and Danes; the nation of the
Italians, which included the citizens of the Kingdom of Sicily; the nation
of France, which were the students of France; the nation of Greece, which
included Outremer as well as Byzantium; and the nation of England, which
included Scotland. A university is a university, whatever the era, and
students had their own lodgings, which they shared with other students.

Douglas of Hoff, because he had arrived late at the university, had been
forced to rent a room together with Rafi of Armenia. The unlikely paring of
an Armenian and an Englishman would have drastic consequences, although, as
is the way of things, neither knew so at the time.

"Similarly it is possible to construct a small-sized instrument for
elevating and depressing great weights, which is useful in certain
exigencies, said William, who used a series of pulleys to pull a heavy rock
with one hand, "like so." The class was impressed.

Douglas looked on, stroking his beard. "Could it be possible to use this
instrument on a weapon?" He was trying to picture it, and gestured. "Perhaps
if we used a wheel on the end of the bow. could it multiply the strength of
the archer?"

William stared at Douglas. " Perhaps. But the Emperor would not want such
weapons to be used, for they are unpious. If he only allows the use of
crossbows against heretics and the infidel, why would he allow such a weapon
to be used?"[57]

Rafi had an idea, but kept silent. Later that evening, at a tavern near
their lodgings [58], he raised the idea to Douglas.

"So have you considered where your weapon would be useful?" said Rafi, as he
leaned across the table.

Douglas shrugged. "Perhaps in Nuremberg. The Emperor does like such
novelties. Who else would buy it?"

Rafi laughed. "Oh, how about the King of the Greeks? I highly doubt Philip's
son will be content to sent tribute to Nuremberg." Rafi looked around, and
then leaned even closer.

"Or perhaps in your land, England. Are there not men there who long to free
themselves from the garrisons of the Emperor?"

By the end of 1227, the bow would be crafted in two different realms, with
rather different results.


Constantinople, November, 1224

Alexander looked through his... seeing glass, a gift from his cousin in
Nuremberg, at the target. "You did not lie." An Armenian who had claimed to
study in Nuremberg, one Rafi, had come to court claiming to have developed a
new bow for the Emperor.

As an amusement, Alexander had given him the funds to develop it. He had
done it surprisingly quickly, once he had received help from men in
Constantinople who knew how to make proper bows. The test had finally gone
off, and Rafi's bow had sent an arrow farther than Alexander had ever seen.

The arrow had flown straight, not even arcing; and it was a heavier arrow
than normal as well, fired at a longer range. Superior to a composite bow
in every way, the bow even let you hold the arrow back; because once you
pulled back past a certain point, it was actually easier to pull!

"With bows such as these," thought Alexander, "we can defeat any number of
Turks, and any other foes of the Empire." Alexander looked at the arrow
thoughtfully. Could it punch through the armor of one of the Emperor's
knights?

Rafi seemed to have picked up on the Emperor's thoughts. "I am convinced it
will go through even the heaviest armor known to the world."

Alexander smiled, and clasped his fingers together. "Excellent."




[52] Yes, bringing Jerusalem's lawyers and their legal theory back to the
Empire was a mistake. For if the Holy Kingdom of Jerusalem can view the
kingdom as belonging to the people and to god, why should other kingdoms not
follow suit?

[53] There's actually a book on this theory, called The Holy Kingdom. It's
all psuedohistory, but it draws upon English/Welsh mythology, and is the
kind of thing that a chronicler seeking to justify England's proud legacy
would use, and the English did believe they were Troy's descendents.

[54] There's a not so subtle hint here for present generations, of course.

[55] Suitably modified from William Blake.

[56] One of history's great ironies is that the monks see removable type in
China, not movable. Yet because of what they describe, Europe will have
think that it is movable type, with metal block letters. And, of course,
much of this is based on Marco Polo.

[57] Inspired partly by Doug [Hoff- author of Empty America on SHWIF , who has given me his blessing, but also on
Bacon's OTL comments on how such a system could let a man have the force of a thousand men. (His words, incidentally, are pretty much what William says).

Incidentally, Hoff is a real town in Cumbria.

[58] Bars were a frequent hangout for medieval students as well, thus
proving that little has changed over the last 800 years.

Prince of Peace 19

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 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 The two houses

"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.

Daniel suggested I incorporate some poetry on Robin Hood. Which is a
good idea, but, well, old english doesn't quite appeal to the modern reader.
So let's take one of the popular songs of ATL England, suitably altered.

"Hurrah for the voice of our nation;
Our chieftain so brave and so true.
We'll go for the great reformation,
For England and Liberty too."

Northumberland, May, 1225

Alexander II, King of Scotland, was not a foolish man. Just because God had
given him Scotland to rule did not mean he meant for him to remain King of
only Scotland, did it? Or so he had once thought, anyway.

The revolt in England, then, was wonderful news. The kingdom must be weak
and divided, the perfect time to reclaim the lands in Northumbeland which
rightfully belonged to Scotland. Who knew? Perhaps if he did well enough,
Frederick would appoint him as the viceroy of England. That had been his
reasoning, anyway.

Thus he had led an army south into the northern counties. How could a mere
knight, a rebel, oppose the King of Scotland?

The English, however, had other plans. Robin led a force northward against
Alexander, which, being a force to defend England against the Scots, soon
outnumbered his quite heavily.

Robin's men also used the new longbow in battle for the first time, and with
devastating success. It was even better than the bows of the Welsh, which
were known to be devastating against knights. When combined with the English
numerical superiority, the victory turned into a rout.

"We'll go for the son of fair Loxley
The hero of Nottingham through,
The pride of the Commons so lucky,
For England and Liberty, too!"

When Alexander's men had melted like snow before the English onslaught, he
had tried to join the flight. But his horse was wounded by an arrow, and he
ended up as an English prisoner.

 "Then up with the banner so glorious,
The banner of Britannia so true,
We'll fight till our banner's victorious,
For England and Liberty, too"


"So," said Robin, "what shall we do with you?"

Alexander remained silent.

"Answer me I say!" demanded Robin.

"I do not speak to rebels and usurpers," replied Alexander.

"But you spoke to Frederick? What did he offer you? Northumberland?
Yorkshire? Perhaps he offered to make you his viceroy in exchange for
conquering us," said Robin.

"Well, God has shown how he approved of your little venture," said Robin. "A
ransom of, oh, seventy thousand marks will do nicely. When we receive half
of that, you will be returned to Scotland, and we will receive hostages."

"How dare you do this?" said Alexander. "I am a king!"

"Well now," said Robin, as he walked out, "that may be, but you are not my
king."


"Our David's good sling is unerring,
The Emperor's tyrant he slew,
Then shout for the freedom preferring,
For England and Liberty, too."



The Weald, July, 1226

Robin Fitz Odo looked out across the field. "Well," he said to Burgh, "it
looks like the Emperor's finally sent his forces."

"Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountains
 That frowned on the river below,
While we stood by our swords in the morning,
 And eagerly watched for the foe;
When a rider came out of the darkness
That hung over mountain and tree,
And shouted: "Boys, up and be ready!
For Robin will march to the sea!""


In front of Robins' army was a force as large as that which Frederick had
sailed over with in the last decade, to conquer and plunder England. They
had arrived at a critical point, for the only cities still in Imperial hands
were London and the Cinque ports[66].

Against them Robin had raised an army from across England. Yeomen had been
trained in using the wheelbow, which was expensive, but it was necessary to
defeat the horse of Germany and Aquitane.

Burgh sighed. "The men are scared. We're outnumbered two to one, or worse,"
he said, looking out in front of them. He looked out across them. "I fear
they will break."

"They'll hold." Robin rode out in front of him, to give the speech that
would be known, forever after in English history, as the Speech of the
Weald.

"Sons of England, of Britannia. My brothers. I see in your eyes the same
fear that would take the heart of me!" he cried, as he rode up in front of
the main line. "But remember, a day may come, when the courage of men fails,
when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of Fellowship, but it is not
this day!

" An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the kingdom of England comes
crashing down," said Robin, who then tore off his hood and threw it to the
wind. "But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear
on this good earth, I bid you, stand, men of England!"

The line cheered, in one great cry. "Robin! Robin!"

Needless to say, any offer of parley was turned down.

In Medieval times, the weald was a dense strip of forest, which ran from
western Kent across Sussex.. The soil was made of clay, sand, and chalk, and
it was without a doubt one of the most desolate place in England, and rather
muddy after a series of downpours over the past several days.   Robin had
drawn up his men between two woods, so that they could not be outflanked by
the superior German force. The Men of arms were stationed in the center,
with the archers on their flanks, like so: \______/. Behind them were
knights, who were to pass through the center of the men of arms after the
German charge was broken.


The Germans lines were, to be blunt, not so carefully arranged. Every
nobleman wanted to be in the front rank, and be seen with his banner flying
high, that any attempt to organize a planned attack failed, and the Germans
essentially would marched forward in one huge mass.

The two sides faced off for several hours, when suddenly, many of the
English knights left the field.

On the other side of the field, Peter Des Roches, the former Bishop of
Winchester, who had defected to the Lord Emperor during the revolt,  looked
at the Imperial commander, Conrad.

Peter Des Roches looked at the imperial commander. "The Earl of Chester? How
did you convince him?" he said.

"I promised him estates in Poitou worth far more than he has here. Richard
Fitz John turned for much less."

Robin, meanwhile, was looking on in disgust. "Oh, shit," he said.

Burgh galloped over. "We must sound a retreat. There's no way these men can
stand against a charge of Imperial cavalry!"

"Retreat to where?" demanded Robin. "You know that there is nowhere to
 hide."

Burgh looked at the Imperial lines and grunted. "A certainty of death, a
small chance of success.. Well, let's get it over with." He gave the signal,
and a volley of arrows soared into the Imperial knights.


Still onward we pressed till our banners
Swept out from Stratford's grim walls,
And the blood of the patriot dampened
The soil where the traitor flag falls.
We paused not to weep for the fallen,
Who sleep by each river and tree,
But we twined them a wreath of the laurel,
And Robin marched on to the sea.


Peter looked on in horror. "How in God's name did they do this? We should be
outside the range of arrows!" Furious, Conrad directed the charge. No
English trick would stop a servant of the Emperor.

It took them about forty seconds to cross the field, which was time enough
for three more volleys. So engraged were the Germans that they neglected to
see one of Robin's precautions. Robin's men had placed long sharpened pikes
into the ground in front of them, to break up an Imperial cavalry charge.
Thus, the knights who attempted to run down the archers found their way
blocked, and their horses crashed into the pikes.

The second wave consisted of dismounted men at arms, which took three
minutes to cross the muddy field now churned up by the cavalry. They
advanced upon the center of Robin's line, but found themselves attacked on
all sides. Many archers simply put down their bows and picked up axes,
swords, or even long knives, and, with the English men at arms, overwhelmed
the infantry of Frederick.

Then, finally, the remaining cavalry who remained loyal to Robin began their
charge. The Germans retreated, as fast as they could, back to the channel.


Oh, proud was our army that morning,
That stood where the pine darkly towers,
When Robin said, "Boys, you are weary,
But to-day fair Britannia is ours."
Then sang we a song for our chieftain,
That echoed o'er river and lea,
And the eyes on the dragon shone brighter
When Robin marched down to the sea.

London, August, 1226

"Look," said Burgh, "I think we have to realize that there are many people
with claims to the throne of England. Llewelyn in Wales, Louis's wife in
France, Eleanor in Aquitane, even Frederick, if only by those traitors to
the realm." Burgh glared around the room.

Robin Fit z Odo, Guardian of England, stepped forward. "We must decide how
England is ruled."

Richard De Percy spoke up. "Now see here! We have already given you too much
say. Bad enough that you raised a national levy without the consent of all
the barons [69]. What gives you the right to say who is our ruler?"

Robin stared at Richard until Percy sat down. "What gives me the right?" He
walked over to a window and pointed below to archers and men at arms
training. "They give me the right. They fought and died for it at the Weald
and I will not let you sit by and offer the crown to some Frenchman."  Robin
slammed his fist on the table. Unspoken was the fact that the strongest army
in England was loyal to him.

"If I were you," said Robin, "I would not stick my neck out for the foreign
yoke."

"So how would you choose a ruler?" said Mortimer, a baron from the Welsh
marshlands. "I say Llewelyn. He's a tough bastard; I know, I've fought him.
His wife is of John's blood."

"No!" said Percy. "We must hold a regency until Eleanor is older."

Robin thought for a moment how nice it would be to kill the barons who were
assembled right now. But no, Joseph was right in counseling humility and
negotiation.  "We have already called a parlement," [70] he said. "What if
we had a continuous parlement to rule the land?"

"What?" said Simon. "How would attend? Who would rule in its absence?"

Robin looked up. "I have thought much about this. The ancient Romans had a
tradition of appointing consuls. What if we chose two consuls to rule
England, one from the burgesses and knights, and one from the great barons?
He would be like a king constrained by Magna Carta. He would meet three
times a year with a parlement, who would control his power to tax the land.
The royal demesne, and the lands of the Church in England [71], would be
administered by this consul, but he could not tax us without the consent of
parlement."

Joseph, who was also present, nodded. "Let each consul serve six years, so
that in the seventh year they might take a sabbatical, and the realm can
decide who should replace them. To ensure that we are never leaderless, let
the first consul of the burgesses, of the commons," said Joseph, "be
appointed for ten years. The consul of the barons shall be appointed for
seven."

Burgh nodded, for, of course, they had planned this. "Let us agree that they
must wait a full term between their time in office, unless there is
agreement by everyone in their rank that they must remain."

"But who would attend this parlement?" demanded Percy.

Burgh spoke up. "We believe that two burghers from each borough and four
knights from each shire would be sufficient. Above them would be a house for
the greater lords, so that each side may be equal within our realm. Any laws
must be passed by the consul, and both of the houses of parlement."

The Earl of Abermerle laughed. "That's just crazy enough to work, you know."

Mortimer remained silent.


Gwynedd, May, 1227

The hawk chased after the hare, and caught him in his grip. Llywelyn ap
Iorweth, Prince of Gwynedd, laughed. "A fine bird, is she not?"

Mortimer nodded gravely. "Yes," he said, "but are we here to discuss
hunting?"

Llywelyn laughed, and said, loudly in Welsh, "of course we are hunting. It's
a fine day to do so." Lower, in French, he said, "I am sure some of your
retainers are in Robin's pay. Do not speak loudly of why you are here."

Mortimer nodded, slowly. "I see," he said. "So you will march on London?"

Llywelyn looked at Mortimer's hawk, which just missed catching a rabbit.
"Ah, a close one." Lower, he said, "Yes. With my wife Joan as Queen, and the
support of the barons, I shall be king by Christmas."  Llywelyn stroked his
horse. "That depends on who will support me, of course."

"Percy will, I think. I have discussed it with him, and he does not like the
thought of being ruled by Robin. We must destroy him, lest the notion of
individual rights destroy the rule of the barons!"

Llywelyn nodded. "Still, thought, we had best march on London quickly. The
more time Robin has, the more money he can collect from the cities and
merchants. The more time he has, the harder it will be to unseat him."

Mortimer extended his hand. "We ride in June, then."


 October, Stamford, 1227

The arrows rained across the sky, as Welsh longbowmen and English archers
dueled for superiority. The Baronial and consular armies clashed, with waves
of knights sweeping across the field. Stamford would be no slaughter, like
the ones with the Germans. Stamford would be the battle where the last man
standing won.

There would be no ballads of glory and triumph for the victors of Stamford.
There was too much blood soaked into the ground, too many friends and family
trampled beneath the horses.

Robin would finally win the battle of Stamford, at the cost of three
thousand dead. But for the barons of England, the casualties would be far
direr. For Robin's men could be replaced.

Percy, dead from an English arrow, could not be. The Earl of Norfolk, slain
by one of those loyal to Robin and Burgh, was irreplaceable. Four earls,
forty knights, and eleven barons would be found dead on the fields of
Stamford. And yet, when a memorial was built at Stamford, three centuries
later, they would not be mentioned. England had gone beyond the need for
monuments to dead nobles.

"No! those days are gone away,
And their hours are old and gray,
And their minutes buried all
Under the down-trodden pall
Ofthe leaves of many years:
Many times have winter's shears,
Frozen North, and chilling East,
Sounded tempests to the feast
Of the forest's whispering fleeces,
Since men knew nor rent nor leases.

No, the bugle sounds no more,
And the twanging bow no more;
Silent is the ivory shrill
Past the heath and up the hill;
There is no mid-forest laugh,
Where lone Echo gives the half
To some wight, amaz'd to hear
Jesting, deep in forest drear.

So it is; yet let us sing
Honour to the old bow-string!
Honour to the bugle-horn!
Honour to the woods unshorn!
Honour to the Lincoln green!
Honour to the archer keen!
Dishonor to the traitor John
And damn the horse he rode upon!
Honour to bold Robin Hood,
Sleeping in the underwood!
Honour to maid Marian,
And to all the Loxley clan!
Though their days have hurried by
Let us few a burden try."



London, March, 1229

Frederick took a sip of mulled wine and nodded. He looked at the letters
from the treasurer. Thank God for the wool trade. The counts of Flanders and
Brabant were willing to ignore Frederick's embargo on English wool; they
didn't have a choice, really, with their economy dependent upon it.

Still, there was a problem. England was dependent upon lords who were,
however nominally, vassals of the Emperor. Should that become more than
nominal..

Robin took another sip, and thought. Why couldn't England have its own banks
and cloth industry, or its own ships for trade? Troy had been a mighty,
seafaring nation founded on trade. Couldn't its children do likewise?

Robin looked into the fire thoughtfully. England had been a refugee for the
Trojans, then a Roman province, then a pagan land. It had changed time and
time again, until it had been turned from a Norman state into an Imperial
province.

Now, he supposed, it would have to become something else.



[68] A series of coastal cities which received privileges in return for
providing the King a navy.

[69] Like Simon De Montfort in England, and William Wallace in Scotland,
Robin Fitz Odo divided the countries into districts, and can call levies
from each territory.

[70] Literally, a discussion.

[71] A lot of the bishops in England had been replaced with pro-Honorius and
imperial bishops, so the land may as well be used. Pro England bishops will,
of course, be put in.



to parts 24-37