All, I managed to get the second half up. The two last part were supposed to be one but it got too long, so here it is two parts.
V
V
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Ah, I find it funny that Venice is turning even more byzantine then the City itself. How do you keep trace of all your plots and subplots and counterplots ?
So, you planning to go after the usurpers of Athens ?
Sorry to have neglected the board for a while. I must say it helps this is the 'slow story'. These last installments are as great as ever.
So, you planning to go after the usurpers of Athens ?
Sorry to have neglected the board for a while. I must say it helps this is the 'slow story'. These last installments are as great as ever.
Another Captain in Constantinople? 
Good reading, V (and Norg!). Lots of detail, nice dialog, and more deceit and intrigue than a soap opera. I'll be reading this. And since this is about the scope of the FC, looks like I'll be reading it for quite a while .
Good reading, V (and Norg!). Lots of detail, nice dialog, and more deceit and intrigue than a soap opera
. I'll be reading this. And since this is about the scope of the FC, looks like I'll be reading it for quite a while .
I wonder why Carmagnola needs an army. And if I remember correctly that he isn't very popular in Venice, why is he there?
And where is his army?
Interesting description of the ring, Valdemar. I assume that's a Viking long-ship (which Mediterranean people might interpret as a galley). But if the ship is a long-ship, why an Orthodox cross?
And where is his army?
Interesting description of the ring, Valdemar. I assume that's a Viking long-ship (which Mediterranean people might interpret as a galley). But if the ship is a long-ship, why an Orthodox cross?
TF, Fusag, Director, thanks for reading.
Director, remember the describtion of how and why the first Varangians appeared in Constantinople? That's where the combination stems from.
As Carmagnola, indeed he becomes unpopular in Venice, just a piece of real history, I'm uncertain as to how much I will utilize it, but part of it there for the plot. Look at the link further up for a short bio on him. Actually He wouldn't be present in Venice at all for another couple of years Which is why his army ins't present.
V
Director, remember the describtion of how and why the first Varangians appeared in Constantinople? That's where the combination stems from.
As Carmagnola, indeed he becomes unpopular in Venice, just a piece of real history, I'm uncertain as to how much I will utilize it, but part of it there for the plot. Look at the link further up for a short bio on him. Actually He wouldn't be present in Venice at all for another couple of years
Which is why his army ins't present.V
Chapter two, part VII
Stefanos was sitting in the small study of the rented Palace by the Grande Canal, wondering what games had let Svend to entrust his son with a apparently important message. After the two young ones had been followed over to the embassy, Benedict had returned to discuss how they should proceed, both with their official business and with their not so official tasks.
Stefanos pushed aside the paper he was reading and leaned back, going over the conversation in his mind. Benedict had relayed that Svend had given Arn a message. It could of course be instructions for the young man, but both Benedict and Stefanos were certain that was not the case. No Svend was delivering something to somebody in this city and he didn’t trust his new found allies enough to let them do it.
The diplomat shrugged, it was understandable that he preferred to use his son, but Benedict had just popped in to let him know, that the message was for Carmagnola, the Italian Mercenary leader, that supposedly was in charge of the Milanese army. Stefanos wondered what he was doing in Venice and what implications that could have for his work.
He shook his head and picked up the paper again, it contained a number of seemingly haphazard notes, comprising his work so far on an opening statement. He had to be prepared for whenever the doge, or more likely his lackey Petrini would call on him. So far all he could do was to base his work on the preliminary findings of the delegation members and assumptions. Shaky foundations indeed, but he hoped that a few informal meetings with that Italian snake they called their negotiator would give him something else to work on.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the meat of the negotiation. Exemption from taxes and tolls for the Venetians and a more or less principled promise to aid the Greek with men and money, should the war come. He felt however that the Venetians could easily be bought to dearly in terms of lost revenues, unless he could secure a way to make it better for them to stand up to their obligations rather than just hollow words.
He sighed, well, that was why he was the negotiator. He looked at his notes, estimating who on the council could be persuaded the easiest, or in his case the cheapest. He wondered if there could be another way to this than trade, but unless Arn and Sif had something up their sleeves or Benedict could find out something, then trade was going to be the focal point. Unless... He sat for a moment lost in thought, then he rose, went to the door and called for a servant,
“See if you can find Hector and ask him to join me?” The servant nodded and left, Stefanos withdrew to the window and stared without seeing through the open shutters overlooking the canal.
“You asked to see me, My Lord?”
Stefanos turned, “Yes Hector, please, have a seat. Has everybody settled in?”
“Yes My Lord, the Venetians has provided nicely for us and what they haven’t the ambassador has secured.”
“Good, good. Now I know your main objects is to ensure that the delegation gets what it needs and so on, but I also know that you are a seasoned veteran and therefore knows the need for information.”
Hector nodded, but looked bewildered. “I thought the officers in the delegation would provide you with that?”
“Indeed they do, but I need to know what really troubles the army, not what the officers will tell each other, but what the officers tell their trusted sergeants. I need to know, if anything at all in the strategic picture can be used to our advantage or if there is something on the horizon.” He leaned forward, “You see the way of Italian warfare is nothing like we know it.”
Hector nodded, “That I know, in my time here some oh fifteen years ago I learned a few things about being a soldier that wouldn’t fit into our army.”
Stefanos nodded vigorously “yes, I know something isn’t right, and I’m sure the delegation can find out, just which city state is about to betray each other, and there is nothing there you can help me with, but,” he held up a hand “I think you can provide gossip from the troops, every bit helps.”
He thought for a moment but decided not to reveal the presence of Carmagnola; if he could get his whereabouts confirmed from other sources it would be worth something. He sighed, or perhaps not worth anything, he couldn’t really know if it meant anything.
Hector still looked a bit uncertain, but if the head of the delegation wanted him to spend a few nights in taverns reacquainting him self with Italian soldiers, then he had no trouble doing it.
They exchanged a few more details on the delegation and the next few days’ work, then Stefanos dismissed the quartermaster with a small purse of gold and the very imprecise orders to find out more about the mood in the army.
Once the door closed behind the old soldier Stefanos was lost in thought again. Then he seemed to make up his mind, he would have to focus on the mercantile part of the negotiations first, then and only if he got some more information would he try to pressure the Venetians on their military weaknesses.
For now, all he could do was wait, he could not show initiative, the first meeting had to of the Venetian’s choosing.
Stefanos was sitting in the small study of the rented Palace by the Grande Canal, wondering what games had let Svend to entrust his son with a apparently important message. After the two young ones had been followed over to the embassy, Benedict had returned to discuss how they should proceed, both with their official business and with their not so official tasks.
Stefanos pushed aside the paper he was reading and leaned back, going over the conversation in his mind. Benedict had relayed that Svend had given Arn a message. It could of course be instructions for the young man, but both Benedict and Stefanos were certain that was not the case. No Svend was delivering something to somebody in this city and he didn’t trust his new found allies enough to let them do it.
The diplomat shrugged, it was understandable that he preferred to use his son, but Benedict had just popped in to let him know, that the message was for Carmagnola, the Italian Mercenary leader, that supposedly was in charge of the Milanese army. Stefanos wondered what he was doing in Venice and what implications that could have for his work.
He shook his head and picked up the paper again, it contained a number of seemingly haphazard notes, comprising his work so far on an opening statement. He had to be prepared for whenever the doge, or more likely his lackey Petrini would call on him. So far all he could do was to base his work on the preliminary findings of the delegation members and assumptions. Shaky foundations indeed, but he hoped that a few informal meetings with that Italian snake they called their negotiator would give him something else to work on.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the meat of the negotiation. Exemption from taxes and tolls for the Venetians and a more or less principled promise to aid the Greek with men and money, should the war come. He felt however that the Venetians could easily be bought to dearly in terms of lost revenues, unless he could secure a way to make it better for them to stand up to their obligations rather than just hollow words.
He sighed, well, that was why he was the negotiator. He looked at his notes, estimating who on the council could be persuaded the easiest, or in his case the cheapest. He wondered if there could be another way to this than trade, but unless Arn and Sif had something up their sleeves or Benedict could find out something, then trade was going to be the focal point. Unless... He sat for a moment lost in thought, then he rose, went to the door and called for a servant,
“See if you can find Hector and ask him to join me?” The servant nodded and left, Stefanos withdrew to the window and stared without seeing through the open shutters overlooking the canal.
“You asked to see me, My Lord?”
Stefanos turned, “Yes Hector, please, have a seat. Has everybody settled in?”
“Yes My Lord, the Venetians has provided nicely for us and what they haven’t the ambassador has secured.”
“Good, good. Now I know your main objects is to ensure that the delegation gets what it needs and so on, but I also know that you are a seasoned veteran and therefore knows the need for information.”
Hector nodded, but looked bewildered. “I thought the officers in the delegation would provide you with that?”
“Indeed they do, but I need to know what really troubles the army, not what the officers will tell each other, but what the officers tell their trusted sergeants. I need to know, if anything at all in the strategic picture can be used to our advantage or if there is something on the horizon.” He leaned forward, “You see the way of Italian warfare is nothing like we know it.”
Hector nodded, “That I know, in my time here some oh fifteen years ago I learned a few things about being a soldier that wouldn’t fit into our army.”
Stefanos nodded vigorously “yes, I know something isn’t right, and I’m sure the delegation can find out, just which city state is about to betray each other, and there is nothing there you can help me with, but,” he held up a hand “I think you can provide gossip from the troops, every bit helps.”
He thought for a moment but decided not to reveal the presence of Carmagnola; if he could get his whereabouts confirmed from other sources it would be worth something. He sighed, or perhaps not worth anything, he couldn’t really know if it meant anything.
Hector still looked a bit uncertain, but if the head of the delegation wanted him to spend a few nights in taverns reacquainting him self with Italian soldiers, then he had no trouble doing it.
They exchanged a few more details on the delegation and the next few days’ work, then Stefanos dismissed the quartermaster with a small purse of gold and the very imprecise orders to find out more about the mood in the army.
Once the door closed behind the old soldier Stefanos was lost in thought again. Then he seemed to make up his mind, he would have to focus on the mercantile part of the negotiations first, then and only if he got some more information would he try to pressure the Venetians on their military weaknesses.
For now, all he could do was wait, he could not show initiative, the first meeting had to of the Venetian’s choosing.
as it has been a while, the current cast:
In Venice
The delegation
Stefanos the foreign advisor, envoy head of the delegation
Dimitrios a local bishop, representing the Patriarch on the council
Benedict head of the intelligence for the delegation
Hector, The former quartermaster, in charge of the daily business of the delegation
Arn (20) married to Sif (18) daughter of a wealthy northern merchant
Others
Silvio Petrini The Doge’s main contact to the delegation
Gregorio Konstantinakis Byzantine ambassador in Venice
Carmagnola Condottiere and military commander, friend of Svend from the past
Angelo D’Urbino Carmagnola’s lieutenant
V
In Venice
The delegation
Stefanos the foreign advisor, envoy head of the delegation
Dimitrios a local bishop, representing the Patriarch on the council
Benedict head of the intelligence for the delegation
Hector, The former quartermaster, in charge of the daily business of the delegation
Arn (20) married to Sif (18) daughter of a wealthy northern merchant
Others
Silvio Petrini The Doge’s main contact to the delegation
Gregorio Konstantinakis Byzantine ambassador in Venice
Carmagnola Condottiere and military commander, friend of Svend from the past
Angelo D’Urbino Carmagnola’s lieutenant
V
Chapter two, part VIII
For the next couple of days nothing happened, Benedict would disappear at odd times and reappear a few hours later with no explanations. Arn and Sif got used to it and Benedict never answered their questions as to what he was doing.
Most of the delegation was out all day and only met at the evening meals and the young couple suddenly found themselves bored, despite being in a strange new city. They couldn’t explore Venice without escort and they didn’t feel like intruding on Benedict to get him to be their guide again. Finally they had approached Stefanos and he had quickly organized a few local guards to go with them. Before they left, he had pulled them aside,
“Remember, these are Italians, don’t take them anywhere you don’t want the city to know the existence of.”
They nodded and had spent a day going through the markets and churches, curios to all the new ways of doing things they saw here. However even that got stale very quickly and they decided that visiting the friends and contacts they had gotten from Sif’s father would not cause a problem.
The following day dawned misty, but like so many autumn days in Italy with a promise to be warm and sunny. The two Greeks were up early and after a hasty meal they set of in the direction of the merchant quarters, near the Grande Canal, accompanied by two Italian guards.
They sailed slowly down the canal admiring the large and lavish Palaces near the St. Marcus Square. Further down the palaces became more moderate, but for some reason these Palaces seemed more luxurious and delicate, as if their distance from power not necessarily signaled a loss of prestige. Another bend and they passed under the Rialto Bridge and through another area of large Palaces, until they abruptly turned to the shore at a small group of large houses.
This was the enclave of the Greek merchants and the first stop on their journey; it was also the most obvious choice of visit and would hopefully not arise unduly suspension. As the docked at a small Piazza bordering the Canal, people on the square immediately took notice. Even to their untrained eye, it was obvious that a number of servants disappeared into the houses to announce their presence.
Arn and Sif pretended not to notice and went to the small fountain in the center to ask directions.
“We are looking for signor Bartolomeus?” No response, Sif looked at Arn and he turned to the servant again.
“We are looking for Bartolomeus?” this time in fluent Greek. The servant looked up and smiled, “Ah yes, right over there and pointed towards the largest house, placed directly in the center of the Piazza facing the Canal. Arn nodded his thanks and they walked across the open space.
He leaned closer to Sif, “What an odd reception for a merchant community?”
Sif nodded, “yes, they must be wary of something.”
They went to the house and were about to knock on the door when it flew open and large gaunt man ushered them in. With a few clipped sentences he send their guards to another part of the house and then led the two Greeks through a small and dimly lit hall into the interior of the house.
As they walked through the small double doors into the next room they stopped dead in their tracks. The small entrance hall had obviously been misleading. The hall they now entered reached up several stories and was light and airy, due to a row of huge windows on the wall towards the piazza. Around the entire hall ran a walkway, reached by a huge spiraled stairway in the corner. All along the walls, on both stories, a number of doors and hallways led of, suggesting that the house was somewhat bigger than it appeared from the outside. Some of the doors in the hallway suggested office space and that perhaps parts of the owners business was conducted here, rather than at the offices at the docks.
The silent man led them through another set of doors, down a hallway until the finally crossed a small garden and entered a dark but comfortable room. One of the smallest and oldest men Sif had ever seen rose quickly behind a huge desk covered with papers and ledgers and hurried across the room to meet them.
“You must be Sif, I’m delighted to have you here. Is this your husband Arn, son of our esteemed Captain of the Guard?” Sif barely had time to nod.
“You know Sif your father has kept me informed, I think I’m abreast with the goings in the Empire, and you young man, I have met your father many times, we once served together in the Guard, though it is ages ago, and I don’t think he’ll remember. I am Janos, Janos Bartolomeus.”
The man talked constantly as he led the young couple to a small arrangement of tables and chairs in the corner. It was if his mind worked at double speed and he had to convey his thought, but his mouth couldn’t quite follow. The end result was a funny mixture of relevant information and curious observations that was as funny as it was confusing.
Sif smiled politely as they sat, but inside she was laughing out loud, she was certain that Arn would be going crazy if he had to put up with that for a longer period of time. After the most of the news had been told and the old man’s curiosity had been satisfied for the moment, there appeared to be short lull in the conversation and then he seemed to change tacks, like a ship that suddenly found a new course to the wind.
“So my young friends what can I do for you?”
Arn and Sif looked at each other, “why did the man we asked for the way to your house refuse to answer until we spoke Greek?” Arn decided to approach the subject slowly.
“Ah, well, we are a cautious lot these days.”
“It hardly seems like there is anything threatening you and it’s a strange way to greet customers, don’t you think?”
“Well, let’s just say that the climate is a little tense after it was announced that you are here to negotiate the trade agreements.”
“Is that what the official explanation is?”
“Isn’t that why you are here?” Arn noted the mock surprise; obviously this man was more than capable of finding out what was truly going on. He made a mental shrug, it wasn’t really a secret and this man was after all chosen because of his contacts and knowledge.
He shrugged again, this time openly, “That’s for the envoy to decide, we are merely tagging along.”
“Tagging along? You merely happen to be here? It has no meaning that you happen to be the son of an influential council member and might I add soldier, this close to a possible war? And you,” he turned to Sif, “just happens to be the daughter of a merchant with the most contacts in the areas where the Venetians have none, and,” he held up a hand, “where Genoa does lucrative trade?”
He smiled disarmingly, his wizened hands waving apologetically in the air. “I didn’t mean to intimidate you, we are here to help of course, and despite my long life here in this damp place my heart still beats for the Empire.”
“Well you guessed right I think, we are indeed here to see if we can provide the delegation with some insights to what goes on in the Council of Ten.”
“Well I can and I cannot help you. What goes on in the Council is anybody’s guess and your delegation may easily have better insides to that than me.” He saw their disappointment and continued, “on the other hand, the Council of Ten is composed of various families and thereby merchant houses and I can help you there. At least four of those houses have aspirations to rise above their current station and they need trade or influence to do that. At least two other houses are very dependent on the trade in the east to an extend where our trade is all that keeps them alive.”
Sif nodded, this was familiar ground. Arn looked a little more doubtful despite his knowledge of business and power dealings, he had a hard time understanding how an entire state could be based on trade and politics.
“What are our options then?”
“Well apart from the trading houses there is no real nobility here, or what ever there is has their power from their trade. Remember we have little land, and thus we don’t have the land borne nobility with their influence to the same extend. But there are always exceptions; several of the older families feel they are above the rest of the city especially the old families on the council, with them more normal diplomacy may be possible, they are the closest we will get to a ruling nobility here.”
Sif and Arn nodded, their own Empire was beginning to shape up the same way, a process started with the massive losses of land to the Ottomans during the last generations.
“I will not go into detail know, give me a few days and I’ll compile something for you to use, I need to make sure I’m up to date on some of the minor members. I do not personally do business with all of them. Now, please join me for a noon meal, my family will be delighted to have guests from the old land and hear news from the most beautiful city in the known world.”
For the next couple of days nothing happened, Benedict would disappear at odd times and reappear a few hours later with no explanations. Arn and Sif got used to it and Benedict never answered their questions as to what he was doing.
Most of the delegation was out all day and only met at the evening meals and the young couple suddenly found themselves bored, despite being in a strange new city. They couldn’t explore Venice without escort and they didn’t feel like intruding on Benedict to get him to be their guide again. Finally they had approached Stefanos and he had quickly organized a few local guards to go with them. Before they left, he had pulled them aside,
“Remember, these are Italians, don’t take them anywhere you don’t want the city to know the existence of.”
They nodded and had spent a day going through the markets and churches, curios to all the new ways of doing things they saw here. However even that got stale very quickly and they decided that visiting the friends and contacts they had gotten from Sif’s father would not cause a problem.
The following day dawned misty, but like so many autumn days in Italy with a promise to be warm and sunny. The two Greeks were up early and after a hasty meal they set of in the direction of the merchant quarters, near the Grande Canal, accompanied by two Italian guards.
They sailed slowly down the canal admiring the large and lavish Palaces near the St. Marcus Square. Further down the palaces became more moderate, but for some reason these Palaces seemed more luxurious and delicate, as if their distance from power not necessarily signaled a loss of prestige. Another bend and they passed under the Rialto Bridge and through another area of large Palaces, until they abruptly turned to the shore at a small group of large houses.
This was the enclave of the Greek merchants and the first stop on their journey; it was also the most obvious choice of visit and would hopefully not arise unduly suspension. As the docked at a small Piazza bordering the Canal, people on the square immediately took notice. Even to their untrained eye, it was obvious that a number of servants disappeared into the houses to announce their presence.
Arn and Sif pretended not to notice and went to the small fountain in the center to ask directions.
“We are looking for signor Bartolomeus?” No response, Sif looked at Arn and he turned to the servant again.
“We are looking for Bartolomeus?” this time in fluent Greek. The servant looked up and smiled, “Ah yes, right over there and pointed towards the largest house, placed directly in the center of the Piazza facing the Canal. Arn nodded his thanks and they walked across the open space.
He leaned closer to Sif, “What an odd reception for a merchant community?”
Sif nodded, “yes, they must be wary of something.”
They went to the house and were about to knock on the door when it flew open and large gaunt man ushered them in. With a few clipped sentences he send their guards to another part of the house and then led the two Greeks through a small and dimly lit hall into the interior of the house.
As they walked through the small double doors into the next room they stopped dead in their tracks. The small entrance hall had obviously been misleading. The hall they now entered reached up several stories and was light and airy, due to a row of huge windows on the wall towards the piazza. Around the entire hall ran a walkway, reached by a huge spiraled stairway in the corner. All along the walls, on both stories, a number of doors and hallways led of, suggesting that the house was somewhat bigger than it appeared from the outside. Some of the doors in the hallway suggested office space and that perhaps parts of the owners business was conducted here, rather than at the offices at the docks.
The silent man led them through another set of doors, down a hallway until the finally crossed a small garden and entered a dark but comfortable room. One of the smallest and oldest men Sif had ever seen rose quickly behind a huge desk covered with papers and ledgers and hurried across the room to meet them.
“You must be Sif, I’m delighted to have you here. Is this your husband Arn, son of our esteemed Captain of the Guard?” Sif barely had time to nod.
“You know Sif your father has kept me informed, I think I’m abreast with the goings in the Empire, and you young man, I have met your father many times, we once served together in the Guard, though it is ages ago, and I don’t think he’ll remember. I am Janos, Janos Bartolomeus.”
The man talked constantly as he led the young couple to a small arrangement of tables and chairs in the corner. It was if his mind worked at double speed and he had to convey his thought, but his mouth couldn’t quite follow. The end result was a funny mixture of relevant information and curious observations that was as funny as it was confusing.
Sif smiled politely as they sat, but inside she was laughing out loud, she was certain that Arn would be going crazy if he had to put up with that for a longer period of time. After the most of the news had been told and the old man’s curiosity had been satisfied for the moment, there appeared to be short lull in the conversation and then he seemed to change tacks, like a ship that suddenly found a new course to the wind.
“So my young friends what can I do for you?”
Arn and Sif looked at each other, “why did the man we asked for the way to your house refuse to answer until we spoke Greek?” Arn decided to approach the subject slowly.
“Ah, well, we are a cautious lot these days.”
“It hardly seems like there is anything threatening you and it’s a strange way to greet customers, don’t you think?”
“Well, let’s just say that the climate is a little tense after it was announced that you are here to negotiate the trade agreements.”
“Is that what the official explanation is?”
“Isn’t that why you are here?” Arn noted the mock surprise; obviously this man was more than capable of finding out what was truly going on. He made a mental shrug, it wasn’t really a secret and this man was after all chosen because of his contacts and knowledge.
He shrugged again, this time openly, “That’s for the envoy to decide, we are merely tagging along.”
“Tagging along? You merely happen to be here? It has no meaning that you happen to be the son of an influential council member and might I add soldier, this close to a possible war? And you,” he turned to Sif, “just happens to be the daughter of a merchant with the most contacts in the areas where the Venetians have none, and,” he held up a hand, “where Genoa does lucrative trade?”
He smiled disarmingly, his wizened hands waving apologetically in the air. “I didn’t mean to intimidate you, we are here to help of course, and despite my long life here in this damp place my heart still beats for the Empire.”
“Well you guessed right I think, we are indeed here to see if we can provide the delegation with some insights to what goes on in the Council of Ten.”
“Well I can and I cannot help you. What goes on in the Council is anybody’s guess and your delegation may easily have better insides to that than me.” He saw their disappointment and continued, “on the other hand, the Council of Ten is composed of various families and thereby merchant houses and I can help you there. At least four of those houses have aspirations to rise above their current station and they need trade or influence to do that. At least two other houses are very dependent on the trade in the east to an extend where our trade is all that keeps them alive.”
Sif nodded, this was familiar ground. Arn looked a little more doubtful despite his knowledge of business and power dealings, he had a hard time understanding how an entire state could be based on trade and politics.
“What are our options then?”
“Well apart from the trading houses there is no real nobility here, or what ever there is has their power from their trade. Remember we have little land, and thus we don’t have the land borne nobility with their influence to the same extend. But there are always exceptions; several of the older families feel they are above the rest of the city especially the old families on the council, with them more normal diplomacy may be possible, they are the closest we will get to a ruling nobility here.”
Sif and Arn nodded, their own Empire was beginning to shape up the same way, a process started with the massive losses of land to the Ottomans during the last generations.
“I will not go into detail know, give me a few days and I’ll compile something for you to use, I need to make sure I’m up to date on some of the minor members. I do not personally do business with all of them. Now, please join me for a noon meal, my family will be delighted to have guests from the old land and hear news from the most beautiful city in the known world.”
Quickly and quickly, They are two days apart and two weeks or more since the last batch
But thanks for reading stnylan
V
They are two days apart and two weeks or more since the last batch But thanks for reading stnylan
V
Valdemar, a wonderfully written story. I always have a soft spot for the Byzantines, so I'm hoping you'll teach those Turks and schismatic Italians a lesson and restore the Roman Empire to something resembling its former glory. I understand, however, that this might take a while.
Do you have any goals for your game or are you basically 'just' writing a great story?
Do you have any goals for your game or are you basically 'just' writing a great story?
Gee, I'm on a posting spree today.. anyway (I should've posted earlier):
Encore! Encore!
Encore! Encore!
Stuyvesant, Well, I do have some plans, but for now I'll keep them to my self It'll suffice to say that Byzantium isn't historical.
TheF, thank you for reading.
Norgs, don't fret it, I haven't exactly spend a lot of time on it, you'll get to it or not, it will be fine
V
It'll suffice to say that Byzantium isn't historical.TheF, thank you for reading.
Norgs, don't fret it, I haven't exactly spend a lot of time on it, you'll get to it or not, it will be fine
V
Don't worry Norgs, I'll be fine, BUT if you do something that you need reactions too, you might need to drop me a mail or something
V
V
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All, this is just to let you know that this is not dead, I have placed to updates last week and I'm working hard on the next, I've just hit a snag on some of the issues whether to write entirely fictional or try and use history, esp. here in the beginning, when names and places still confer with real history.
V
All, this is just to let you know that this is not dead, I have placed to updates last week and I'm working hard on the next, I've just hit a snag on some of the issues whether to write entirely fictional or try and use history, esp. here in the beginning, when names and places still confer with real history.
V
Chapter two, part IX
A couple of weeks went by without any news from either Bartolomeus or Carmagnola and Arn was beginning to understand why Stefanos always appeared so patient and began to admire him for it. For more than two solid weeks had they been in the city and they had nothing to show for it.
Stefanos had spend some time at preliminary meeting with Petrini, but neither part wanted to tip their hand and so far only small items like adjusting the existing trade agreements had come up.
The only one that truly seemed satisfied with the current arrangements was Dimitrios. The bishop had spend most of his time in the Greek Quarter talking with the local priests, no doubt stepping on a few toes, but also satisfying the spiritual needs of the community by giving a number of masses. So far he only spend his evenings with the delegation and retired early.
Benedict had been out of touch for a number of days, but Stefanos had told the delegation that he had had to travel to the mainland on undisclosed business, privately he had confided to the young couple that he wasn’t sure where benedict was, but that it was quite normal for him to remain out of communication for days, if not weeks, when on a mission like this.
Arn and Sif spend the weeks looking at the city, going to a few formal and luckily also a few informal arrangements in the Greek quarter and generally having a great time. But by now they felt that something was about to happen, the constant waiting was beginning to wear on their nerves, this was after all in their opinion the most important mission of their lives.
Then one blustery morning as the early autumns squalls hit the windows of the small palace with boring frequency and increasing strength, something did happen. A wet and determined looking Benedict appeared at the door and gestured for the ambassador and Stefanos to join him. Arn and Sif looked curiously at the retreating backs, but since there was no way they could accompany the men, they had to resign to warming themselves at the newly lit fire.
----------
“I went as far as Mantua,” Benedict was draping his soaked cloak over a chair near the fire in the ambassador’s small study. The ambassador frowned as the cloak began to drip on the exquisite wooden floor and soon a small puddle was spreading to the Persian rug.
“Did you learn anything of interest?”
“Well, yes and no. I went that far inland to meet with some people from old times, that I hoped knew something about the situation in Italy, especially how entangled Venice really is and where the Pope stands.”
“I know that.”
Stefanos hid a smile behind his hand at ambassador’s irritation.
“Well, do you now?” Benedict raised an eyebrow and looked at Stefanos, who shook his head slightly. “I also went there to find out something else, but that will have to wait.”
“I told you the other day, that I didn’t like you going into the Italian politics, especially when the delegation is in Venice.” The ambassador, Gregorio, looked annoyed, “and now you also included the Pope.”
“I didn’t exactly include the Pope.” Stefanos could see that Benedict’s relaxed manner only infuriated Gregorio.
“I asked Benedict to find out where the Pope stands, we haven’t exactly contacted anybody in the Papal administration.” He looked at Benedict.
“No,” The agent answered the unspoken question, “I haven’t and I haven’t [/]meddled[/I] in the Italian affairs, remember it is the city states that have allied themselves to The Duchy of Athens.”
Gregorio didn’t look pacified, but he couldn’t fault the reasoning. “So what did you learn?”
“Well I went to Mantua and found lodging in “The Red Pigeon”. Then I waited.”
The ambassador looked exasperated at Stefanos, a plea in his eyes. Stefanos smiled, “I don’t think we need a step by step account from you Benedict.”
The other man smiled, only a touch wickedly. “Alright then. I contacted a few of my, let’s call them friends, in the city, Mantua, being squeezed between Venezia, Papal Romagna and Milan, I figured that if any of the said states had any interests, this would be where their agents would be found.”
Stefanos nodded, he had guessed that that was where his friend had gone, but he hadn’t known for sure. He was as curious as Gregorio to find out what Benedict had uncovered, even Venice wouldn’t go directly against the Pope to help them. On the other hand, the Pope would most likely weight his options carefully and use this to meddle in the Italian politics once again.
“I had to wait, the city was indeed crawling with representatives of all three parties and add to that the agents of Gian Francesco were keeping an eye on all of them I had to be very discreet.” He smiled almost affectionately at Gregorio, “and patient.”
Gregorio merely smiled in surrender, they had known each other for years and he should know better that to let Benedict rile him like that.
“I had to be certain that I was not identified as a Greek. It would most likely have had severe consequences if the Empire was caught interfering in the Italian politics.” He grinned, “Though it seems everybody else is. I identified both Aragon and French interests and I’d be very mistaken if not more than a few Austrian and Ottoman agents or hired Italians where in town.”
Stefanos smiled at his friend’s obvious delight, he had been truly in his right element there. “Sounds almost like an entire conference?”
“Well, almost, we actually try not to meet each other.” He shrugged, “anyway, I tried to contact a few, to find out where the Pope stands in this and if the Venetians are likely to expand that way.” He looked curiously at Stefanos; “it seems that at least the Venetian Milanese conflict is very low key at the moment, I wondered if that has implication for that other part?”
Stefanos waved his hand, dismissing the issue for now, “That can wait.”
“Well, the Pope is surprisingly docile, I found no evidence that pointed to anything related to your presence here, no army buildup neither here near Venice, or near the Duchy’s allies. There is no rumor of envoys or Bulls coming this way, other than the usual “Greek schismatic” that they always content with whenever they make a treaty with us. It seems that for now everybody in Rome has bought on to the story that you are here to negotiate trade. Perhaps because you are so new?”
“That is good news indeed, if the Pope had lingered on my position in the Imperial Council, rather than my youth, then the story might have been different?”
Gregorio looked up from the fire. “I don’t think anybody outside Constantinople and this delegation, knows of the dealings in the Council, just before you left.”
“True, that does make a difference, doesn’t it? They probably think that I have been banished or at least hampered by my absence from the seat of power. They have no way of knowing of the freedom I have to maneuver.” He smiled, “let’s hope it stays that way.”
“Indeed, it will also make it easier to deal with the Doge and his Council, if they don’t have to maneuver around a Papal decree and it will give them one less excuse to extort further concession in trade.” Gregorio stood up, “and it will make my life easier once you are gone.” He walked towards the door, “what would you prefer to drink, I think Benedict could use something warm?”
Benedict nodded his thanks, taking the offer as an olive branch, an offer of peace. The ambassador went to the door and called for a servant, once he had given his orders he returned to his chair near the fire.
“So, the Pope is out of the picture for now, both with regards to the present negotiation, and at least for the time being, the situation in Athens.”
“Well at least he has made no overt move to assemble his armies, whether to attack Athens’s allies here in the peninsula or to aid them in Greece.”
“Good,” the ambassador paused while the servant placed a small tray with wine and biscotti. “That leaves the Venetians themselves. If they intend to get tangled up in Italy, then they will be of little use, except of course to hinder Athens’s allies from responding.”
“Well we can never be sure of the motivation of Venice,” Stefanos smiled, “Nobody can. All we can hope for is that protecting their trade, will in the long run mean that they need to protect us from the Turks, and to that end their navy is brilliant.”
Benedict sipped his wine without answering, then placed the small cup on a table and leaned back stretching his feet towards the fire. “Well, courting Venice must be considered in the long run. Sure deterring the Italian minors from interfering with Athens is all well and good, but the Turks are our main threat.”
Stefanos nodded, “So what did you find out about Venice?”
“Noting specific, there is an uneasy truce ruling in Italy at the moment and Venice has not mobilized to any great extend. Something fishy is going on between Milan and Venice, their agents where all over Mantua, but nobody could tell me exactly what was going on. At first that was, not until I started asking the right questions.”
“Well, as long as Milan doesn’t involve itself with Athens then I fail to see what we can do about it.” He cut Benedict short. “Now, while you have been gone we have put the youngsters to good use, we have a breakdown of the different factions in the Council and their main interests, at least when it comes to trade. I think you will find it useful reading. It also includes the would be families that aspire to greatness.”
Benedict nodded, “and I assume you want me to check that information yesterday?”
“That would be nice, but tomorrow will be fine.”
The meeting broke up and as the ambassador headed to the dining room and the rest of the delegation, Stefanos held back Benedict with a look.
“You want to know more about that Milanese situation, I assume?”
Stefanos nodded, “I figured that there was more to it, than lack of mobilization, and perhaps Carmagnola was involved.”
“To be honest I don’t know for sure what is going on, but he definitely up to something, though I’m not sure it will happen just yet. All I can say for sure is that he spends a lot of time with his troops, or at least that’s where they think he is.”
Stefanos rose and nodded, “well we can only hope he is true to his word to Arn then. You still don’t know what exactly passed between Arn and Carmagnola and Carmagnola and Svend?”
Benedict merely shook his head as they left the room.
A couple of weeks went by without any news from either Bartolomeus or Carmagnola and Arn was beginning to understand why Stefanos always appeared so patient and began to admire him for it. For more than two solid weeks had they been in the city and they had nothing to show for it.
Stefanos had spend some time at preliminary meeting with Petrini, but neither part wanted to tip their hand and so far only small items like adjusting the existing trade agreements had come up.
The only one that truly seemed satisfied with the current arrangements was Dimitrios. The bishop had spend most of his time in the Greek Quarter talking with the local priests, no doubt stepping on a few toes, but also satisfying the spiritual needs of the community by giving a number of masses. So far he only spend his evenings with the delegation and retired early.
Benedict had been out of touch for a number of days, but Stefanos had told the delegation that he had had to travel to the mainland on undisclosed business, privately he had confided to the young couple that he wasn’t sure where benedict was, but that it was quite normal for him to remain out of communication for days, if not weeks, when on a mission like this.
Arn and Sif spend the weeks looking at the city, going to a few formal and luckily also a few informal arrangements in the Greek quarter and generally having a great time. But by now they felt that something was about to happen, the constant waiting was beginning to wear on their nerves, this was after all in their opinion the most important mission of their lives.
Then one blustery morning as the early autumns squalls hit the windows of the small palace with boring frequency and increasing strength, something did happen. A wet and determined looking Benedict appeared at the door and gestured for the ambassador and Stefanos to join him. Arn and Sif looked curiously at the retreating backs, but since there was no way they could accompany the men, they had to resign to warming themselves at the newly lit fire.
----------
“I went as far as Mantua,” Benedict was draping his soaked cloak over a chair near the fire in the ambassador’s small study. The ambassador frowned as the cloak began to drip on the exquisite wooden floor and soon a small puddle was spreading to the Persian rug.
“Did you learn anything of interest?”
“Well, yes and no. I went that far inland to meet with some people from old times, that I hoped knew something about the situation in Italy, especially how entangled Venice really is and where the Pope stands.”
“I know that.”
Stefanos hid a smile behind his hand at ambassador’s irritation.
“Well, do you now?” Benedict raised an eyebrow and looked at Stefanos, who shook his head slightly. “I also went there to find out something else, but that will have to wait.”
“I told you the other day, that I didn’t like you going into the Italian politics, especially when the delegation is in Venice.” The ambassador, Gregorio, looked annoyed, “and now you also included the Pope.”
“I didn’t exactly include the Pope.” Stefanos could see that Benedict’s relaxed manner only infuriated Gregorio.
“I asked Benedict to find out where the Pope stands, we haven’t exactly contacted anybody in the Papal administration.” He looked at Benedict.
“No,” The agent answered the unspoken question, “I haven’t and I haven’t [/]meddled[/I] in the Italian affairs, remember it is the city states that have allied themselves to The Duchy of Athens.”
Gregorio didn’t look pacified, but he couldn’t fault the reasoning. “So what did you learn?”
“Well I went to Mantua and found lodging in “The Red Pigeon”. Then I waited.”
The ambassador looked exasperated at Stefanos, a plea in his eyes. Stefanos smiled, “I don’t think we need a step by step account from you Benedict.”
The other man smiled, only a touch wickedly. “Alright then. I contacted a few of my, let’s call them friends, in the city, Mantua, being squeezed between Venezia, Papal Romagna and Milan, I figured that if any of the said states had any interests, this would be where their agents would be found.”
Stefanos nodded, he had guessed that that was where his friend had gone, but he hadn’t known for sure. He was as curious as Gregorio to find out what Benedict had uncovered, even Venice wouldn’t go directly against the Pope to help them. On the other hand, the Pope would most likely weight his options carefully and use this to meddle in the Italian politics once again.
“I had to wait, the city was indeed crawling with representatives of all three parties and add to that the agents of Gian Francesco were keeping an eye on all of them I had to be very discreet.” He smiled almost affectionately at Gregorio, “and patient.”
Gregorio merely smiled in surrender, they had known each other for years and he should know better that to let Benedict rile him like that.
“I had to be certain that I was not identified as a Greek. It would most likely have had severe consequences if the Empire was caught interfering in the Italian politics.” He grinned, “Though it seems everybody else is. I identified both Aragon and French interests and I’d be very mistaken if not more than a few Austrian and Ottoman agents or hired Italians where in town.”
Stefanos smiled at his friend’s obvious delight, he had been truly in his right element there. “Sounds almost like an entire conference?”
“Well, almost, we actually try not to meet each other.” He shrugged, “anyway, I tried to contact a few, to find out where the Pope stands in this and if the Venetians are likely to expand that way.” He looked curiously at Stefanos; “it seems that at least the Venetian Milanese conflict is very low key at the moment, I wondered if that has implication for that other part?”
Stefanos waved his hand, dismissing the issue for now, “That can wait.”
“Well, the Pope is surprisingly docile, I found no evidence that pointed to anything related to your presence here, no army buildup neither here near Venice, or near the Duchy’s allies. There is no rumor of envoys or Bulls coming this way, other than the usual “Greek schismatic” that they always content with whenever they make a treaty with us. It seems that for now everybody in Rome has bought on to the story that you are here to negotiate trade. Perhaps because you are so new?”
“That is good news indeed, if the Pope had lingered on my position in the Imperial Council, rather than my youth, then the story might have been different?”
Gregorio looked up from the fire. “I don’t think anybody outside Constantinople and this delegation, knows of the dealings in the Council, just before you left.”
“True, that does make a difference, doesn’t it? They probably think that I have been banished or at least hampered by my absence from the seat of power. They have no way of knowing of the freedom I have to maneuver.” He smiled, “let’s hope it stays that way.”
“Indeed, it will also make it easier to deal with the Doge and his Council, if they don’t have to maneuver around a Papal decree and it will give them one less excuse to extort further concession in trade.” Gregorio stood up, “and it will make my life easier once you are gone.” He walked towards the door, “what would you prefer to drink, I think Benedict could use something warm?”
Benedict nodded his thanks, taking the offer as an olive branch, an offer of peace. The ambassador went to the door and called for a servant, once he had given his orders he returned to his chair near the fire.
“So, the Pope is out of the picture for now, both with regards to the present negotiation, and at least for the time being, the situation in Athens.”
“Well at least he has made no overt move to assemble his armies, whether to attack Athens’s allies here in the peninsula or to aid them in Greece.”
“Good,” the ambassador paused while the servant placed a small tray with wine and biscotti. “That leaves the Venetians themselves. If they intend to get tangled up in Italy, then they will be of little use, except of course to hinder Athens’s allies from responding.”
“Well we can never be sure of the motivation of Venice,” Stefanos smiled, “Nobody can. All we can hope for is that protecting their trade, will in the long run mean that they need to protect us from the Turks, and to that end their navy is brilliant.”
Benedict sipped his wine without answering, then placed the small cup on a table and leaned back stretching his feet towards the fire. “Well, courting Venice must be considered in the long run. Sure deterring the Italian minors from interfering with Athens is all well and good, but the Turks are our main threat.”
Stefanos nodded, “So what did you find out about Venice?”
“Noting specific, there is an uneasy truce ruling in Italy at the moment and Venice has not mobilized to any great extend. Something fishy is going on between Milan and Venice, their agents where all over Mantua, but nobody could tell me exactly what was going on. At first that was, not until I started asking the right questions.”
“Well, as long as Milan doesn’t involve itself with Athens then I fail to see what we can do about it.” He cut Benedict short. “Now, while you have been gone we have put the youngsters to good use, we have a breakdown of the different factions in the Council and their main interests, at least when it comes to trade. I think you will find it useful reading. It also includes the would be families that aspire to greatness.”
Benedict nodded, “and I assume you want me to check that information yesterday?”
“That would be nice, but tomorrow will be fine.”
The meeting broke up and as the ambassador headed to the dining room and the rest of the delegation, Stefanos held back Benedict with a look.
“You want to know more about that Milanese situation, I assume?”
Stefanos nodded, “I figured that there was more to it, than lack of mobilization, and perhaps Carmagnola was involved.”
“To be honest I don’t know for sure what is going on, but he definitely up to something, though I’m not sure it will happen just yet. All I can say for sure is that he spends a lot of time with his troops, or at least that’s where they think he is.”
Stefanos rose and nodded, “well we can only hope he is true to his word to Arn then. You still don’t know what exactly passed between Arn and Carmagnola and Carmagnola and Svend?”
Benedict merely shook his head as they left the room.
To anybody who might still be reading this,
I've spend the last couple of weeks thinking over the story while I wrote, and to me this progresses a little to slowly, but I'm having a very hard time speeding it up now that I've inttroduced all these plots.
So what to do?
I've decided on the following, first of all this will NOT be a complete GC, I will most likely stop after this or the next generation, once the most obvious battles are fought and before the Byzantine gets too unrealistic. For some reason I find it hard to continue the game, not playing it, but writing it and taking down notes after a certain point that I will not reveal here
So the conclusion is that I'll continue the detailed plot at least Venice out, then reduce the detail a little for a while, but still keep the plot oriented, detailed character driven style.
For those of you who are still reading after this, it will not be as long as anticipated, but luckily this means it will also move a tad faster (thoug it is allready moving faster than I expected.)
V
I've spend the last couple of weeks thinking over the story while I wrote, and to me this progresses a little to slowly, but I'm having a very hard time speeding it up now that I've inttroduced all these plots.
So what to do?
I've decided on the following, first of all this will NOT be a complete GC, I will most likely stop after this or the next generation, once the most obvious battles are fought and before the Byzantine gets too unrealistic. For some reason I find it hard to continue the game, not playing it, but writing it and taking down notes after a certain point that I will not reveal here
So the conclusion is that I'll continue the detailed plot at least Venice out, then reduce the detail a little for a while, but still keep the plot oriented, detailed character driven style.
For those of you who are still reading after this, it will not be as long as anticipated, but luckily this means it will also move a tad faster (thoug it is allready moving faster than I expected.)
V
Originally posted by Valdemar
I've decided on the following, first of all this will NOT be a complete GC, I will most likely stop after this or the next generation, once the most obvious battles are fought and before the Byzantine gets too unrealistic. For some reason I find it hard to continue the game, not playing it, but writing it and taking down notes after a certain point that I will not reveal here
Not the full 400 years?! :eep: I'm shocked!
I'm really enjoying this, V, so I'll take whatever you have to give (at whatever pace you like).