Principality of Galilee

[Oznerol]

THE PRINCIPALITY OF GALILEE

he Principality of Galilee is the first and foremost vassal of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, the greatest domain outside the royal demesne, with vassals on its own. The lordship is centered on Tiberias, the prosperous and powerful fortified city at the shores of the Sea of Galilee, also called Lake Tiberias. The lake is bountiful, a valuable source of water that irrigates the surrounding lands, fertile as few in the newly founded kingdom. Tiberias is the heart of the Principality and its wealthiest possession; the city is populated by a large Jewish community, the largest in Syria that maintains a prosperous trade and has valuable connections with their fellow jews all over the realm. The Prince has established his seat on a newly-erected castle, a fortress surrounded by a deep moat filled by the lake’s waters (that in case of siege turn the compound into an island), with stone walls erected on the Norman manner, including a strong square keep.
Also, the Prince has ordered to lay both the foundations of a church, consecrated to Saint Peter and Saint Agathius, and a monastery, symbols of the new Christian rule over the conquered lands.

The principality also extends southwards, comprising the lands North to Jerusalem, including the holy place of Nazareth and a large number of villages, towns and rural communities.

PRINCE AND HOUSEHOLD

ROBERT DE CAEN Title: Prince of Galilee. Nickname: Rufus. Status: Single. Children: None. Retainers: Helias de Saint-Saes, Orderic Vitalis, Roger de Caen. BIOGRAPHY: Robert de Caen or Robert FitzHenry is the eldest son of Henry de Normandie, third and youngest son of William the Conqueror. Born out of wedlock to a certain Norman Lady at the city of Caen he was recognized as his father’s firstborn son and nurtured at the Norman court of his royal grandfather. Robert Curthose lost the bid for the crown of Jerusalem, having rejected it first to feign some piety. The Duke left the Holy Land, disgruntled with the decision, not without after claiming the lands of Galilee, which chief city of Tiberias he had personally sieged and conquered. Helias de Saint-Seas was to remain its bailiff and administrator, but Robert de Caen, eldest nephew of Curthose had arrived to the Levant, landing on Antioch when still Balun hadn’t be crowned as King. The princeling had been sent to the Holy Land by his father, Henry de Normandie when he heard of the increasing success of the crusade. Informed by Aumale of the recent events he rode swiftly to Jerusalem (passing by the lands of Galilee), where he found himself appointed as Prince of Galilee and the lands that would have belonged to his hot-headed uncle had he been content with his lot in life. A princely title granted in consideration of his high lineage, remote proximity in blood to the new King and close kinship with the Prince of Antioch. Caen is similar yet different to his father and uncle; short of stature, albeit the young Norman has fair hair with a reddish hue (with earned him the nickname of Rufus) and blue eyes. Robert is a shrewd, sly and prudent man, considered wise for his age and quite capable, a clever negotiator and a promising administrator with a keen eye and a firm hand. Slender and thin of frame, still more a boy than a man, the Norman could be considered insignificant. However, he is determined to rule over his principality and exert his authority as the first and foremost noble of Jerusalem, a prerogative he understands well. His proximity to the capital and the royal court only increase his newly found prestige. Orderic Vitalis, the young and quick English priest, and the veteran Helias of Saint-Saes (weary of Caen’s authority and command) remained at Tiberias after Curthose’s departure. A retinue now increased in number by a handful new courtiers, like Roger de Caen, a young but extremely capable priest sent by Henry de Normandie, Robert’s father, to oversee his son’s endeavors in the Levant.

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcom the Scot, or simply Malcolm Scot, Duke of Jaffa, arrives to speak with The Prince of Galilee.

((OOC: Due to the fact we haven't conquered it yet, I only have the title in name.))

[Oznerol]

Tiberias, seat of princedom, was a prosperous city by the lakeside. The city was noisy, striking and beautiful as the great cities of the Levant were, populated by large numbers of jews, muslims and even local christians, spiced by an increasing number of Normans and Frenchmen, some of whom had adopted clothes similar to the natives, good to resist the unforgiving heat as the city was a large pan made of brick, stone and mud.

Works and building projects everywhere, the scot could glance the cross-like foundations of what looked like a new church. On the other side, close to the lake already had been erected several buildings and a wall in what seemingly was a new monastery. But closer to be finished and controlling the city there were the newly-erected walls of a castle. Stone walls as only the Normans might build, increasingly tall and still not topped, the gateway still unfinished and the square keep a mere hole on the ground and several feet tall stone walls. There was a large tent nearby, a silken pabillion guarded by several knights. There waited a truly young and lean man, on his sixteen birthday, blonde and blue-eyed, he robed himself with elegance, a golden brooch holding his silken cloak in place. Around him, several clergymen and at least one knight. The thin princeling looked at the Scot:

"Welcome to Tiberias, Duc de Jaffa"

Pearls of sweat crossed his forehead, a Northerner, he hand't still gotten used to the Levantene heat.

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcolm performed a small half bow, meant to show his respect towards the young prince. He was dressed in Gaelic fashion, with a pair of baggy white trousers, a loose light blue shirt that ran half way to his knees, a brown leather belt and a dark blue cloak, fastened with a silver brooch in the shape of a harp. On his belt was his sword, made in the style of the Gaels, rather than the Europeans. A long dirk also hung from his belt.

He had been here since the beginning of the Crusade, and was used to the infernal heat, but beads of sweat still dotted his forehead. He spoke French like a Norman - he had had practice since the beginning of the Crusade.

"It is a pleasure to be here, Prince, have you settled in to your new demense well?"

[Oznerol]

The Norman nodded in return. He barely had the stubble of a reddish beard. His sharp blue eyes stared at the Scot.

"My uncle's departure was... premature, but my domain is settled. No-one questions my title or my soveraignity, Duc. Still, many improvements have to be made; for example Tiberias lacked a true place to establish a seat"

He made a sign towards the courtyard, where workers were erecting the keep.

"This will be but the first of the keeps erected in my domain. Our control over these lands is still feeble, Duc, and these fortress will protect it"

Even if his voice wasn't still fully manly he sounds determined.

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcolm looks out to the keep. The Prince had certainly wasted no time. He watched workers toiling for a second before facing the Prince again.

"I currently sit in Ramla, and since I intend to sit in Jaffa before the year is out, I have begun work on my economy, rather than a keep."

He paused and waited for a second, structuring his proposal.

"To that end, I have come with a small proposal. While we are not yet at our full potential, we will be two of the most powerful domains in Jerusalem. I feel an alliance between two such domains would be formidable..."

Malcolm paused to scratch his beard.

"To that end, I have come to propose marriage between our houses."

[Oznerol]

Robert's eyes narrowed. The retainers remained silent, hearing the conversation. A monk in the back, Roger de Caen, looked at the Scot with intensity. Orderic Vitalis wrote something on the back of the tent, seemingly ignoring the scene but cautiously hearing everything.

"A marriage between... who?"

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcolm, noticing the sudden intensity in the room, coughs lightly to clear his throat.

"I propose marriage between Catriona Maelcoilum, my daughter, and you Prince Robert."

[Oznerol]

Robert looked his nails. The air was tense. Roger coughed and Saint-Saes looked quizzically to the Scot. Even Orderic now paid atention openly.

"And what do you offer me, Duc?"

Some whispered and mutered to their companions inside the tent. The lineage of the Scot was clearly an issue.

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcolm tapped the hilt of his blade thoughtfully. Truth be told, he had expected this to be an issue. He wasn't even knighted. In Europe he would certainly be considered lowly bred, although he was well bred by the standards of the Gaels. The King of Muinechain in Ireland for a grandfather and several marriages to lords throughout Scotland, Ireland and Wales. Sadly, Gaelic lineage was different to European lineage.

"It would depend on what you wanted, Prince."

[Oznerol]

Malcolm tapped the hilt of his blade thoughtfully. Truth be told, he had expected this to be an issue. He wasn't even knighted. In Europe he would certainly be considered lowly bred, although he was well bred by the standards of the Gaels. The King of Muinechain in Ireland for a grandfather and several marriages to lords throughout Scotland, Ireland and Wales. Sadly, Gaelic lineage was different to European lineage.

"It would depend on what you wanted, Prince."

Roger approached Robert and whispered into his ear. Clearly, the match wasn't great, Caen had already set his eyes on one of the daughters of Roger of Sicily by his wife, Judith d'Evreux and was also considering several other brides, like a lady from Armenia Cilicia or the Romans themselves as he knew that a second daughter of the emperor wasn't still betrothed.

"What are you willing to offer, Duc?"

Caen was too prudent and cautious to speak openly, he'll let the Scot speak by himself and tell how much did he wanted Galilee's alliance.

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcolm shrugged slightly.

"Gold, silver, jewels."

He paused before making the real offer.

"The promise of military aid from a host of veterans of countless war in Scotland, as well as the battles of the First Crusade.

Trade with a port city - Jaffa will be mine before the year is out, and you will be able to send trade from here straight through Jaffa and into the Mediterranean.

Strong ties with one of the larger domains of Jerusalem, something that will add to your clout at court.

And finally, aid in any way I can give it, when required. Be it militarily, economically or even just simple advice, the significant knowledge and experience of my retainers will be at you disposal."

[Oznerol]

He raised his gaze.

"It seems you are quite interested in this marriage, sire"

He looked at the Scot, pensive.

"Jaffa will not suffice, duc. What I want is support, aid to conquer Tyre and Sidon. Maybe, Beirut if the campaign goes well, but at the very least, Tyre. God's willing. Help me conquering those ports and I will marry your daughter"

He looked again at his nails. Orderic gasped.

"Plus the usual dowry, of course"

Vitalis gasped again.

"In turn you will have our friendship and alliance"

[The Mad Skylord]

Malcolm nodded slowly before grinning.

"Done! I'll help you take those cities. With me sitting in Jaffa and you in Tyre, we will be the strongest presence in the Mediterranean. "

[Oznerol]

"At least in its eastern half!"

Said Caen, he smiled slightly, a tiny smirk.

"Glad we could reach an agreement. Consider myself your son and I will do the same and call you father. In turn my men will help you conquering Jaffa"

He smiled with malice:

"However, there might be some weary of our advances. Still, our alliances will keep them from menacing our interests. I shall send word to my cousin, Aumale, in regard to this"

He offered the Scot his hand, thin and bony, sinewy, somewhat elegant with long fingers. But still strong.

[The Mad Skylord]

"At least in its eastern half!"

Said Caen, he smiled slightly, a tiny smirk.

"Glad we could reach an agreement. Consider myself your son and I will do the same and call you father. In turn my men will help you conquering Jaffa"

He smiled with malice:

"However, there might be some weary of our advances. Still, our alliances will keep them from menacing our interests. I shall send word to my cousin, Aumale, in regard to this"

He offered the Scot his hand, thin and bony, sinewy, somewhat elegant with long fingers. But still strong.

Malcolm grinned wolfishly. He too the surprisingly strong hand in his own calloused, rough, hard and strong hand and shook vigorously.

"Do you have any plans to march on the city soon? I can send a man to scout out the city, and perhaps open the gates, if you wish."

[Oznerol]

Malcolm grinned wolfishly. He too the surprisingly strong hand in his own calloused, rough, hard and strong hand and shook vigorously.

"Do you have any plans to march on the city soon? I can send a man to scout out the city, and perhaps open the gates, if you wish."

"I planned to start the campaign as soon as possible. His grace, roi Julien, hasn't still confirmed how many troops will comprise my host, until then, I must wait. But I will march North as soon as possible"

He scratched his chin, looking at the Scot.

"I'll marry your daughter at Tyre, and nowhere else, as a symbol of our triumph over the saracens"

[The Mad Skylord]

A rider gallops into Tiberius, informing the Prince that Duke Malcolm has made good on his promise. He has mustered his men and will meet the Prince's own forces at Acre.