JohnSmith: The long reigns were an accident on my part from not paying attention but it does explain Wittelsbach success. At least my subconscious knows what it's doing...
Arrix85: You're right; I got the Egyptian and Sicilian lists mixed up. As for Georgia, there are no Georgian monarchs mentioned between Alexei II and Stefanoz which is why I listed them consecutively but there's enough room for some more to fit it. I hereby declare that Alexei II was succeeded by his son Giorgi VI who reigned briefly and did nothing of importance and was succeeded by his grandson Stefanoz.
1615: Historians are unsure of how thoroughly Iskandar is aware of the Roman situation vis-à-vis Hungary and the Holy Roman Empire in the spring of 1615. His victories in northern India have been extremely impressive and his lieutenants have secured further triumphs over other smaller forces. However no one paying attention, including the Katepano of Taprobane and the Kephale of Surat, can fail to notice the growl of annoyance emanating from seven-walled Vijayanagara, currently the greatest city in the world.
More than a growl comes from the lord of all India south of the Narmada in the spring when some vassals in the Deccan attempt to throw off their servitude with some Persian support. In one battle the vassals are crushed absolutely despite the twenty five hundred Khorasani gunners and six hundred Turkish cavalry in their ranks. Whilst no attempt is made by the Vijayanagari to pursue the few fugitives who make it across the frontier, the ability of the Defender of Cows and Brahmins to send great hosts to the doorsteps of northern India is one noted by all parties.
Northern India too isn’t being entirely cooperative either. The Indus valley is the region easiest to control from Persia but is also the site of Sukkur in the south and Kashmir in the north, the largest states in northern India before Iskandar’s arrival. Although compliant for now, Sukkuri and Kashmiri nobles have made their way to foreign ports with dreams of one day returning. As a further annoyance, raiding the Indus delta seems to have become the new favorite pastime for Ethiopian pirates. They are quite good and have a suspicious number of newly forged Roman guns in their arsenals.
Further east, despite a progress of Iskandar made as far as Oudh, Persian control is effectively nonexistent east of Delhi save for a few isolated garrisons who can only maintain contact when patrols are out in force. Meetings between the Portuguese Viceroy of Sutanuti, the Prince of Jharkhand, the King of Bihar (a rump compared to its former glory but still a respectable regional power), and emissaries from the King of Tibet and his Gurkha vassals do nothing to sooth Iskandar’s concerns.
What it comes down to is that Shah Iskandar does not want to leave India at this juncture and spend more blood and gold on the war with the Romans. The truce is renewed for another six years with a Roman payment of 2.5 million hyperpyra plus a quarter-million for every year afterward. Meanwhile the low-intensity battling continues without a beat although the Shah does dispatch three thousand more light cavalry to western Mesopotamia to combat Anizzah raiders.
Much to Janos’ fury, German troops are marching west not southeast. Triune forces are on the doorstep of Antwerp (direct intervention during the Brothers’ War itself had been blocked by a serious of miserable harvests across northern France plus some serious peasant uprisings in Brittany and Normandy) and Emperor Friedrich places his priorities there. The Triunes have already violated the territories of the Holy Roman Empire; the Romans are merely threatening to do so.
The Voivode though is unwilling to give up, especially concerning the harsh Roman demands. A late and soggy spring delays Roman preparations for a new offensive, who advance secure in the knowledge that German intervention is not happening. It is thus a considerable surprise when the Akoimetoi roll up to the gates of Vienna and see Bavarian banners flying from the ramparts. Just three days earlier six thousand Bavarian infantry, veterans all, had marched into the city.
The Triune army at Antwerp was completely shattered, even more than the Hungarians at Mohacs, by a joint attack by Bishop ‘Bone-Breaker’ and General Blucher. With that great success Friedrich rapidly transferred forces east just in time to check Roman encroachments in Austria, which despite its long control by Hungary still ranks as one of the principalities of the Empire.
Finally the possibility of the two empires colliding head-on has arrived. Roman foragers skirmish with Bavarian scouts; lives are lost on both sides. With reinforcements that arrive shortly afterwards, Leo has more than enough man and firepower to take Vienna despite the Bavarian garrison. Such a victory would provide the Romans with a powerful base from which to operate in future campaigns and do much to cripple what strength remains to the Hungarian monarchy. But while Friedrich can brush off the skirmishes an assault on Vienna is too much to suffer without reprisal. Leo withdraws.
The Roman retreat from Austria is a victory of sorts for the Hungarians but it is due solely to the Germans, who also take the initiative in terms of peace negotiations. On both sides the effort is largely spearheaded by royal women. On the Roman side Empress Helena the Elder, displaying energy which she has not shown in several years, takes the lead. Roman bloodlust has been somewhat sated by Mohacs and Buda and thus peace is more welcomingly viewed both by Demetrios and the Roman public.
On the German side a major figure is Empress Kristina, eldest daughter and child of Helena the Elder. Unlike her hapless little sister Theodora, Dowager Queen of Hungary, she has a more forceful personality and the general respect of the Bavarian nobility. She also has a much closer relationship with her little brother Demetrios, another important asset.
Mother and daughter get a chance to meet, for the first time in nineteen years, in Venetia where peace talks are held. Significantly the talks are between the Romans and Germans; Janos Zapolya is left stewing out in the hall even when King Theodoros Doukas of Lombardy arrives for his share of the pie.
The treaty hammered out is effectively a total Hungarian capitulation. The Kingdom of Serbia is recognized as an independent state and also to be granted control of the Kingdom of Bosnia as well. Transylvania and the Banat are to go to the Vlachs. Per the arrangement with the Lombards, Verona and Padua are annexed to the Lombard Kingdom. The Veneto, Friuli, and Gorizia present more complications. Per said agreement they are to be constituted as a new duchy under Anna Drakina-Sidera (elder sister of Demetrios Sideros), former Duchess of Verona and Padua, as a vassal of Rhomania. The region in question though is crawling with Lombard troops and tax collectors and Theodoros is not inclined to withdraw.
In exchange for five hundred thousand ducats, another million to be paid over the next six years, and the promise of preferential grain purchases to feed Venetia, Helena recognizes the Lombard conquest. Emperor Friedrich does the same when Theodoros promises another equal payment on the same schedule, plus a pledge to abide by any feudal ties between the territories and the Holy Roman Emperor.
To compensate Anna, Hungarian Dalmatia and Istria are ceded to the Empire. They are amalgamated with the Roman vassals of Ragusa and Split, both governed by communes. The result is the new Duchy of Dalmatia and Istria, in which the two communes still enjoy significant autonomy. Anna is installed as the Duchess of the new vassal state (Helena pointedly ignores the existence of her still-living husband who ends up back in Buda and successfully filing for divorce).
The question of Croatia is a sorer spot. Croat forces, operating practically entirely on their own, had beaten off the Lombard and Roman attacks on the core of Croatia save for a few raids. Empress Helena is interested in the possibility of a Despotate of Croatia which intrigue some Croats as a means of exchanging a nearby master for a far-off one. Friedrich though has no desire to see a Roman Despotate so close to Imperial frontiers. The possibility of an independent Croatia (aired by Friedrich as a compromise!) is scotched by the unenthusiastic response of Krsto Frankopan, Ban of Croatia. The Ban, eyeing Janos’ teetering position, has ideas regarding his own future status in the Hungarian state. Thus Croatia is left in union with Hungary.
To cement the accord, a dynastic marriage is arranged. Friedrich had been quite disappointed by the birth of Andreas III, who blocks a Wittelsbach claim on the Roman Imperial line. Here is an opportunity to ‘address’ that. Friedrich and Kristina’s eldest son Manfred has two children of his own, a boy Theodor born in 1604 and a girl, Elisabeth, born in 1605, just two weeks before Andreas himself. Andreas and Elisabeth are to be married.
There is concern in many Roman circles over this; the Wittelsbach desire to have blood sitting enthroned in the White Palace is well known. But Friedrich is insistent and for all Kristina’s desire to secure peace between her brother’s and her husband’s realms, her ambition to see a granddaughter as Roman Empress also cannot be denied.
Hungary is left holding the bag. Janos still has to ratify the agreement, something he is naturally quite reluctant to do. The treaty is especially painful as the loss of Transylvania wipes out most of his family’s holding. But one condition of the Andreas-Elisabeth marriage is that Friedrich convinces the Hungarians to sign. Pressed from all sides, Janos has no choice.
It is a disaster. The only difference, save the retention of Croatia which is due mostly to Krsto’s intrigues, between the treaty of Venice and the Roman terms issued before the campaigning of 1615 is that Hungary is not obliged to pay a monetary tribute. But that saving is counterbalanced by the Bavarian garrisons in Austria. The Roman bear may be satisfied but there is no strength left in Hungary to expel the German bear sprawled comfortably in the foyer. What if he too decides he wants a meal?
* * *
Constantinople, November 12, 1615:
Andreas looked around the interior. The mausoleum had not changed since he’d been here last week, not that he expected it to have. The interior walls were a dull white, marble carved from Hymettos, the sunlight coming through a series of pointed-arch windows. The room was circular, only about eight meters in diameter, with one entrance behind him. He knew the dome on the outside was sheathed in hammered bronze. Every week, members of the city’s guilds in rotation polished that bronze so that it gleamed almost blindingly in the noontime sun.
The tomb itself was granite from Skammandros, a dull gray-white mixture somber in appearance, the lid topped by an effigy of a man lying on his back as if asleep. The man was of a medium height with a round face, although one without much trace of fat. Andreas rubbed his short nose. I like to think that I have his nose. He certainly had the same narrow unibrow.
Next to the man’s right shoulder was a small stand with a platter of fresh pastries, covered in chocolate and sprinkled sugar, not exactly the cheapest fare in town. All around the tomb were strewn fresh flowers. A hundred years after his death, the Good Emperor was still honored with such devotion and respect by the common people. I want to be remembered like that. He closed his eyes and started to pray.
He hadn’t gotten very far when he heard someone very ostentatiously munching on something and smacking their lips. He turned around to see an old man. He was of medium height with a round face, but with what looked to be a toned frame with little fat. Hazel eyes looked out at him underneath a thin white unibrow. He had short white hair covering his head and a full cropped beard. He was wearing a black shirt with silver thread on the cuffs and neck, plus a small silver chain around his neck, from which hung a small green jewel. He wore riding pants of the same color. His hands weren’t gloved so Andreas could tell that they were very rough, even aside from the many wrinkles, hands that looked like they’d grasped a sword often.
He popped the last bit of one of the chocolate pastries in his mouth, sighing in contentment. He looked at Andreas and smiled. “It’s a good thing that these weren’t around when I was your age; I’d be as fat as a Frenchman if I were.”
“Those are for him!” Andreas blurted, somewhat surprised that was the first thing that came out of his mouth. How do you get here? His guards were outside the only door to the mausoleum and they wouldn’t have let the man in alone and not followed. He looked at the man’s waist; there was a worn sword-belt there and off his right hip a dull silver scabbard. The hilt of the blade in there looked like standard-issue Thrakesian tagma. But they’re in Hungary and he has no insignia?
He looked back at the man’s eyes. He had a slight smile. “I’m not going to hurt you, Prince Andreas.” He looked at the chocolate pastries. “These on the other hand…” He grabbed another and started chowing down.
“Those are for the Emperor!”
The man looked at him, swallowed the bit in his mouth, and held the half-eaten remainder between the right thumb and forefinger. “He doesn’t mind.” He looked at the tomb. “Do you?” Silence. “See.”
“I guess that’s alright then.”
“Good.” The man stuffed the rest in his mouth.
“Why are you here?” Andreas asked.
“Why are you here?” the man answered. “You come here every week; are you expecting the décor to change?”
“No, I come here to pray.”
“This isn’t a church.”
“I know but…this seems like the right place to pray, for my prayer.”
“And what are you praying for that here seems to be the best place? If it’s this chocolate you’re praying for I would think the White Palace kitchens would be a better spot.”
Andreas couldn’t help but smile as the man started eating another one. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen an old man this happy. Then he stopped grinning; the man looked at him. Andreas hesitated. “I’m praying that I’ll be like him.” He pointed at the tomb.
“Why? You want to be a great war leader, to conquer distant lands?”
“No, I want this.” He gestured at the flowers and the chocolate. “A hundred years after his death. No one alive can remember him. Yet the people still do this, in honor of his memory. I want to be like that; I want to be an Emperor that is still loved a hundred years after I’m gone.”
“Being loved after you’re dead is actually easier than when you’re alive.”
“Well then I want that too.”
“You just want everything, don’t you?”
Andreas shrugged. “Yeah.”
The man chuckled. “Well, you’re off to a good start.”
“How?”
“You’re letting me eat this chocolate.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The baker who put this here didn’t put it here for me. She put it here for him.” He pointed at the tomb. “But he can’t use it, so you let me have it. A good Emperor cares about his people and is willing to sacrifice for them. In this case it isn’t really a sacrifice, but you’re starting on that principle.”
“That’s it?”
“No, not even close. Andreas was loved because he cared about the people, and the people knew it. He was willing to give his life to protect them. Came close a few times. Why did he do that? He’s a sovereign, a ruler of millions, why would he put his life on the line for some herdsmen?”
“Because are we not all children of God?”
The man smiled. “Precisely. Regardless of your station, your soul is no more or less valuable in the eyes of God than any other. But because much is given to you, much is expected. Remember that, and act on it in all you do.”
“That doesn’t sound easy.”
The man smiled again but this time sadly. “No, it isn’t. It’s possibly the hardest thing in the world.”
“I don’t know if I have the strength.”
“I think you do.”
Andreas nodded, warmed by that comment. “I have to go now. I have sword practice.” The man nodded and Andreas started walking out the door. In the entryway he turned back and gestured at the platter; the man had gone through half of them. “Try to leave some for the Emperor.”
The man laughed. “No promises. These things are quite addictive.” Andreas smiled and headed out.
He reached his horse and started to mount her. “You were in there quite a while,” Ioannes commented.
Andreas looked over at the pug-nosed Epirote, the commander of his bodyguard. “I was talking with an old man. Do you know who he is?” I forgot to ask.
“There was no one else in there. We didn’t let anyone past.” Andreas stared at him in shock. He looked back at the mausoleum, his hanging mouth clicking shut. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”
Andreas smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
