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While tempted myself to make a spear-jape, others have already made the point (
). Sancho’s mind is boiling with plans - and some neighbour is probably going to fall under his power sooner rather than later.
). Sancho’s mind is boiling with plans - and some neighbour is probably going to fall under his power sooner rather than later.
I see he is keeping his spears well ... exercised
No one's spear reaches as far as Sancho's!
Yeah... spears... I've actually given up the seducer focus by now, but his lovers remain and the master seducer trait means every woman loves me.
While tempted myself to make a spear-jape, others have already made the point (
He'll have to wait. Civil wars are messy and take time more often than not.
Lisbon, July 1185
A whole month.
That was what it took to suppress a peasant revolt in Caceres. Part of the crown lands of Portugal, it had been ruled locally by Muslim collaborators and a number of new men assigned to administrative posts. It was one of the latter that had failed in his duties. He'd taken a Jewish mistress who just so happened to be the daughter of one of the main Jewish moneylenders in the town. When the man had been unable to pay his debts, he accused the Jews of a round of blood libels, then had a number of scapegoats hung, including the mistress.
A few Muslims who were deemed to be troublemakers were hung as well for good measure, but one of those was a shopkeeper beloved by all. His death sparked a riot, that turned into a full blown peasant revolt. The new man was stabbed to death and the town burned all over. Of course, news of this reached Lisbon quite quickly, around May.
Sancho knew his man had screwed up, but he could not let an open riot go unheard. He took three thousand of his personal levees and marched on Caceres, offering the mob a chance to disperse peacefully. When they refused, he gave the order to attack.
Thus the first open revolt of the newly conquered lands was put down.
Sancho had brought Ezzelino with him to the battle. The Italian mercenary seemed to have little skill other than betraying duped allies to save his skin and killing opponents cruelly and without mercy. Sancho's hope was that enough of his savagery would be sufficient to scare the people of Caceres into submission. Sancho wasn't in the mood for reprisal killings. A stern warning not to revolt again would do.
And it did. The Muslim townsfolk, as well as the surviving Jews, went about their lives again after taking new oaths of loyalty. Sancho reminded himself to settle the surrounding countryside with loyal Portuguese farmers and knights.
Now, he and Ezzelino were returning home, taking the levees back with them. Most were lesser knights and peasants raised up for the occasion, and would go back to their old lives working the land and running shops and taverns in the cities.
As Sancho returned to Sao Jorge Castle, a courtier approached him on his horse and handed him a parchment. "For your eyes only, my liege. I was told to tell you to read it in the privacy of your study."
Sancho was somewhat confused, but decided to just nod his head and said, "Very well then." He got off his horse, clutching the rolled parchment, and walked up the steps to the main entrance. A pair of statues from Imperial Rome guarded the gateway, one of Marcus Aurelius and one of his son Commodus. They served as a reminder of what a rule should be, and what he should not be. Sancho stared at Aurelius for a moment before entering further.
Ignoring various petitioners and courtiers, he headed for his study and locked the door for good measure. The seal of Martim of Badajoz was on it, and once it was unopened the letter inside revealed something as serious as expected:
To my uncle, the King of Portugal,
I apologize for sending this message in a roundabout way, for managing my new lands and raising a daughter are not easy tasks for a newly landed lord. But I must insist you continue you on nevertheless.
The matter I wish to convey to you involves your mistress Elvira. Your wife Matilda wrote my physican while you were gone in Caceres - by the time you receive this letter you should be back in Lisbon - asking for the antidote to various poisons. She mentioned about Elvira coming down with food poisoning, but it seemed to me that Matilda may have made a failed attempt on Elvira's life.
I know it is not my place to intervene in your personal matters, but I hope you will be able to settle this suspicion of mine soon.
Regards, your nephew Martim
Attached was Matilda's letter, confirming what Martim had guessed. Judging from the way she wrote, she was looking to reversed a botched attempt to poison Elvira.
This would not stand, Sancho thought.
A couple of hours later, after a light snack, Sancho summoned Tilda to his room. After a quick questioning, Tilda broke down. He'd been married long enough to know how to push her the right way.
"Alright," she exclaimed, huffing. "I did it. I tried to make Elvira... unwell."
"Why?" That was Sancho's first question after the confession. He could've just imprisoned her for attempted murder, but it was more useful to pick her brain and try to reach a more agreeable conclusion to the whole damn matter.
"Why do you think?" Her voice had some venom in it. "She thinks too much of herself because she shares your bed. She thinks herself the true queen."
Sancho didn't know about whether Elvira was flaunting her position or not. "Really? You care so much for a mistress that can be sent home any time I want? Really, Tilda, I thought you more mature than this."
"You'll never understand. You don't know what it's like for a wife to be humiliated over and over by an unfaithful husband. The trysts and bastards my father sired... it nearly destroyed my mother. Sometimes I think that's why she went to personally lead troops on Crusade: to get away from my father. I thought you might be different..."
She plopped herself on the bed, face down. Presumably to hide tears and frustration. Sancho let her be for a few minutes, knowing it was best to let her clear her head however she could. Even if it mean making a big deal over what was probably nothing.
"Tilda," he said in a more gentle voice. "You know I care about you and the children. You think I'm humiliating you because I take a mistress, like virtually every man in my position? Of course not! You remain the most important woman at court and in my life, and if you want proof I'll give it to you."
She got up, her tears dried up. But still, a face of disappointment. "I suppose this is the fate of all wives of my rank. To be subject to infidelity over and over again... I don't know how much more I can take of it."
Sancho sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. I simply follow the customs of my father and his father before him. What could I do to make you happy?"
"You could start by giving your neglected wife some attention."
"Here, or..."
"Just get in the bed."
---
Sancho wouldn't say no to that. Half an hour later, he reckoned he'd done well enough to make everything forgiven, at least for the short term. He decided to switch the subject and said, "Henrique is twelve now. Don't you think we should have him properly introduced at court?"
"He's our son. He will command flatterers seeking attention no matter where he goes."
"And he will need to get acquainted with those flatterers and know which ones truly want to help him and which ones are looking to advance their own interests. Besides, a formal introduction will relieve boredom at court. It beats dealing with peasants day in and day out."
"You realize this doesn't make up for Elvira, you know that?"
"I never said that. It just so happens that helping out our child is beneficial to us both, you know."
Matilda sighed, then got off the bed. "Well, maybe you can teach him not to chase the skirts of his vassals' daughters and wives. My brothers do that and they end up with half the realm trying to get back at them."
"That's why I go after unmarried girls and widows. No jealous husbands to be afraid of."
Matilda sighed and left the room, leaving Sancho to chuckle at his joke.
A whole month.
That was what it took to suppress a peasant revolt in Caceres. Part of the crown lands of Portugal, it had been ruled locally by Muslim collaborators and a number of new men assigned to administrative posts. It was one of the latter that had failed in his duties. He'd taken a Jewish mistress who just so happened to be the daughter of one of the main Jewish moneylenders in the town. When the man had been unable to pay his debts, he accused the Jews of a round of blood libels, then had a number of scapegoats hung, including the mistress.
A few Muslims who were deemed to be troublemakers were hung as well for good measure, but one of those was a shopkeeper beloved by all. His death sparked a riot, that turned into a full blown peasant revolt. The new man was stabbed to death and the town burned all over. Of course, news of this reached Lisbon quite quickly, around May.
Sancho knew his man had screwed up, but he could not let an open riot go unheard. He took three thousand of his personal levees and marched on Caceres, offering the mob a chance to disperse peacefully. When they refused, he gave the order to attack.
Thus the first open revolt of the newly conquered lands was put down.
Sancho had brought Ezzelino with him to the battle. The Italian mercenary seemed to have little skill other than betraying duped allies to save his skin and killing opponents cruelly and without mercy. Sancho's hope was that enough of his savagery would be sufficient to scare the people of Caceres into submission. Sancho wasn't in the mood for reprisal killings. A stern warning not to revolt again would do.
And it did. The Muslim townsfolk, as well as the surviving Jews, went about their lives again after taking new oaths of loyalty. Sancho reminded himself to settle the surrounding countryside with loyal Portuguese farmers and knights.
Now, he and Ezzelino were returning home, taking the levees back with them. Most were lesser knights and peasants raised up for the occasion, and would go back to their old lives working the land and running shops and taverns in the cities.
As Sancho returned to Sao Jorge Castle, a courtier approached him on his horse and handed him a parchment. "For your eyes only, my liege. I was told to tell you to read it in the privacy of your study."
Sancho was somewhat confused, but decided to just nod his head and said, "Very well then." He got off his horse, clutching the rolled parchment, and walked up the steps to the main entrance. A pair of statues from Imperial Rome guarded the gateway, one of Marcus Aurelius and one of his son Commodus. They served as a reminder of what a rule should be, and what he should not be. Sancho stared at Aurelius for a moment before entering further.
Ignoring various petitioners and courtiers, he headed for his study and locked the door for good measure. The seal of Martim of Badajoz was on it, and once it was unopened the letter inside revealed something as serious as expected:
To my uncle, the King of Portugal,
I apologize for sending this message in a roundabout way, for managing my new lands and raising a daughter are not easy tasks for a newly landed lord. But I must insist you continue you on nevertheless.
The matter I wish to convey to you involves your mistress Elvira. Your wife Matilda wrote my physican while you were gone in Caceres - by the time you receive this letter you should be back in Lisbon - asking for the antidote to various poisons. She mentioned about Elvira coming down with food poisoning, but it seemed to me that Matilda may have made a failed attempt on Elvira's life.
I know it is not my place to intervene in your personal matters, but I hope you will be able to settle this suspicion of mine soon.
Regards, your nephew Martim
Attached was Matilda's letter, confirming what Martim had guessed. Judging from the way she wrote, she was looking to reversed a botched attempt to poison Elvira.
This would not stand, Sancho thought.
A couple of hours later, after a light snack, Sancho summoned Tilda to his room. After a quick questioning, Tilda broke down. He'd been married long enough to know how to push her the right way.
"Alright," she exclaimed, huffing. "I did it. I tried to make Elvira... unwell."
"Why?" That was Sancho's first question after the confession. He could've just imprisoned her for attempted murder, but it was more useful to pick her brain and try to reach a more agreeable conclusion to the whole damn matter.
"Why do you think?" Her voice had some venom in it. "She thinks too much of herself because she shares your bed. She thinks herself the true queen."
Sancho didn't know about whether Elvira was flaunting her position or not. "Really? You care so much for a mistress that can be sent home any time I want? Really, Tilda, I thought you more mature than this."
"You'll never understand. You don't know what it's like for a wife to be humiliated over and over by an unfaithful husband. The trysts and bastards my father sired... it nearly destroyed my mother. Sometimes I think that's why she went to personally lead troops on Crusade: to get away from my father. I thought you might be different..."
She plopped herself on the bed, face down. Presumably to hide tears and frustration. Sancho let her be for a few minutes, knowing it was best to let her clear her head however she could. Even if it mean making a big deal over what was probably nothing.
"Tilda," he said in a more gentle voice. "You know I care about you and the children. You think I'm humiliating you because I take a mistress, like virtually every man in my position? Of course not! You remain the most important woman at court and in my life, and if you want proof I'll give it to you."
She got up, her tears dried up. But still, a face of disappointment. "I suppose this is the fate of all wives of my rank. To be subject to infidelity over and over again... I don't know how much more I can take of it."
Sancho sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. I simply follow the customs of my father and his father before him. What could I do to make you happy?"
"You could start by giving your neglected wife some attention."
"Here, or..."
"Just get in the bed."
---
Sancho wouldn't say no to that. Half an hour later, he reckoned he'd done well enough to make everything forgiven, at least for the short term. He decided to switch the subject and said, "Henrique is twelve now. Don't you think we should have him properly introduced at court?"
"He's our son. He will command flatterers seeking attention no matter where he goes."
"And he will need to get acquainted with those flatterers and know which ones truly want to help him and which ones are looking to advance their own interests. Besides, a formal introduction will relieve boredom at court. It beats dealing with peasants day in and day out."
"You realize this doesn't make up for Elvira, you know that?"
"I never said that. It just so happens that helping out our child is beneficial to us both, you know."
Matilda sighed, then got off the bed. "Well, maybe you can teach him not to chase the skirts of his vassals' daughters and wives. My brothers do that and they end up with half the realm trying to get back at them."
"That's why I go after unmarried girls and widows. No jealous husbands to be afraid of."
Matilda sighed and left the room, leaving Sancho to chuckle at his joke.
As we have seen, Sancho certainly does have a way with women, even those who know they shouldn't trust him like they do. A natural Casanova.
The revolt in Caceres certainly sounds like a nasty situation all around. It must be hard having to stand by and clean up after a magistrate who has so blatantly mishandled his assignment; let's hope that the King was able to give him at least some of what he deserves for his incompetence and callousness.
The revolt in Caceres certainly sounds like a nasty situation all around. It must be hard having to stand by and clean up after a magistrate who has so blatantly mishandled his assignment; let's hope that the King was able to give him at least some of what he deserves for his incompetence and callousness.
The unrest was quickly and summarily dealt with - as was Tilda’s murder attempt. It may well not be the last of either problem, though.
