My Lord of Spain - Gaunt in Iberia

[Gandalfus]

Having invaded Spain along with the King of Portugal in 1387, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster had been intent on securing a crown for himself: that of Castile, for his wife was the eldest of Pedro the Cruel's two daughters. Against Trastamara he warred, setting his court up in Galicia, expending time and resources attempting to force Juann of Castile into battle. But the campaign would end in failure; Juan had simply avoided Lancaster and his army, and Lancaster's purse had trickled dry. Gaunt could no longer afford to pay or feed his soldiers, who were deserting or dying of disease and exhaustion. Begrudgingly, Lancaster agreed to a peace, and to that end had arranged to meet King Juan of Castile near the Portuguese border, where they would officially conclude their treaty negotiations so Gaunt could return to England.

[Barry Goldwater]

William de Beauchamp, Baron Bergavenny was bored out of his skull. The Duke of Lancaster had promised glory and riches to all who followed him on his quest to assert his rights to the Spanish throne, but Bergavenny had seen none of either: instead they spent a lot of time marching through the Galician countryside hunting rabbits, bedding local wenches, having potshots taken at them by the King of Castile's French mercenaries and generally accomplishing absolutely nothing of value. Disease and desertion did a number on their ranks as well, with many being struck down by various maladies (Beauchamp himself took ill and feared he would end up ing himself to death like the Black Prince did only two weeks prior) and many more of the cravens in their army had accepted French promises of safe transit to quit before one true battle had been fought.

Today they were back near the Portuguese border, and Gaunt was off to meet the Castilian usurper who was also named John. For what purpose the baron didn't know exactly, but if it would end this fruitless campaign and get them out of this hellhole, he'd be for it. Bergavenny supposed it would be poor form to join the not-quite-king's party in his birthday suit, so after emptying a skin of Gascon wine to alleviate his headache, he got dressed and left behind his tent - as well as a coin, for the wide-eyed and olive-skinned beauty he'd found to warm his bed last night and was still warming it in her sleep now.

[Oznerol]

The King of Castile and Leon arrived with a large entourage, many peers and servants comprised his retinue, for the king of that land was a nomad, always traveling through his domains without a permanent seat and the court went with him; thought most of it had remained close, in the town of Toro. Juan was fair of face and body, had a short-cropped beard, the hair was light brown and the eyes changing depending on light: sometimes blue, sometimes green. He wears a splendid suit of armor, covered by a tabard emblazoned with the canting arms of Castile and Leon, his helmet was topped by a crest in the shape of a griffin. Behind him fluttered his royal banners, including that of the Order of the Band. Juan speaks in French, without a noticeable accent as he had been fostered in France while his father was exiled in the Valois court.

"My Lord of Alencastre, I salute you"

The men of that land had wonderfully adapted Lancaster's name in the most varied ways: Lancastre, Lancaster, Alencastre, etc... Alencastre seemed to be the prefered one in the Trastamara's court, while Aviz had chosen a more conventional Lancastre.

[Gandalfus]

Gaunt sat atop a black gelding, clad in armour that proclaimed his colours, Lancaster and Castile impaled. About his head was wrapped a chaperon, covering his thinning dark hair that would normally hang loose down to his lower neck. His wife and household were in the care of the Portuguese King, and thus Gaunt had only come with his lieutenants and officers that had accompanied him upon his campaign. Though he inclined his head in deference his gaze was nonetheless haughty, looking at them from behind his crooked Roman nose, his lightly stubbled jaw remaining unmoved.

"Majesty of Spain, I greet thee." Lancaster replied in bearable French, having picked up the language during the frequent campaigns in Aquitaine and Picardy. "I am blessed to hear that your noble self has consented to our agreement for peace." The terms were generous enough, a sum of money in return for Gaunt and his wife renouncing their claim to Castile and Leon and ceasing their campaign against the Castilian King.


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[Oznerol]

"We have no wish to continue this fight any longuer, Lord of Alencastre. You have wisely chosen the path of righteousness"

Juan had simply avoided battle and, smartly, had suffocated Gaunt's means to pursue his crown. Such a tactic had left the Englishmen demoralized and ravaged by plague and disentery; it was said even among the peers there have been a spread of the sickness.

"The terms arranged are these: Firstly, you shall pursue the reunion of our Holy Mother the Church, and provide this sinful schism is finished, swaying the will of your nephew, the King of England. You shall yield all your rights, and your wife's and heir's of the body, to our crowns of Castile and Leon, they shall thereby rejoined in us and our heirs for ever and ever. Secondly, you shall swear to not pursue those claims any longer, neither shall you consider yourself as our land's sovereign. Thirdly, your noble and pious daughter Catherine shall be married to our mighty and noble son Enrique when he is fourteen years of age, shall he not live, God avoid us that fate, to his fourteenth birthday, she shall marry his brother Fernando, God bless them both. Once married they shall be provided and endowed as my heir and his wife should be. Finally, six hundred thousand francs shall be paid from my purse to yours as soon as we can amass such a sum"

With Pedro's heir being married to Trastamara's there was no possible claim to contest his throne; Portugal be dammed. Aljubarrota still itched in the king's back, as he could have very well died that day, hadn't Pedro González de Mendoza offered his own horse so he could flee. Aviz now called himself king, despite being a baseborn bastard and that Juan's wife, Beatriz, was the rightful heir of Portugal. The clause of Catherine's potential marriage to Fernando was a necessity, for Enrique never enjoyed a robust health.

[Gandalfus]

"We have no wish to continue this fight any longuer, Lord of Alencastre. You have wisely chosen the path of righteousness"

Juan had simply avoided battle and, smartly, had suffocated Gaunt's means to pursue his crown. Such a tactic had left the Englishmen demoralized and ravaged by plague and disentery; it was said even among the peers there have been a spread of the sickness.

"The terms arranged are these: Firstly, you shall pursue the reunion of our Holy Mother the Church, and provide this sinful schism is finished, swaying the will of your nephew, the King of England. You shall yield all your rights, and your wife's and heir's of the body, to our crowns of Castile and Leon, they shall thereby rejoined in us and our heirs for ever and ever. Secondly, you shall swear to not pursue those claims any longer, neither shall you consider yourself as our land's sovereign. Thirdly, your noble and pious daughter Catherine shall be married to our mighty and noble son Enrique when he is fourteen years of age, shall he not live, God avoid us that fate, to his fourteenth birthday, she shall marry his brother Fernando, God bless them both. Once married they shall be provided and endowed as my heir and his wife should be. Finally, six hundred thousand francs shall be paid from my purse to yours as soon as we can amass such a sum"

With Pedro's heir being married to Trastamara's there was no possible claim to contest his throne; Portugal be dammed. Aljubarrota still itched in the king's back, as he could have very well died that day, hadn't Pedro González de Mendoza offered his own horse so he could flee. Aviz now called himself king, despite being a baseborn bastard and that Juan's wife, Beatriz, was the rightful heir of Portugal. The clause of Catherine's potential marriage to Fernando was a necessity, for Enrique never enjoyed a robust health.

It would be enough to repay his troops and debtors, and more besides, though Lancaster revealed little joy in his squinting gaze. A short silence was allowed to reign, before a brief nod from Lancaster. In truth, these terms were not a surprise - the two men had been conferring for weeks through a series of emissaries.

"Very well, majesty. These terms are, to me, honourable and just for the ceasing of the quarrel between us. I shall accept." Gaunt did so begrudgingly - he had long desired a royal dignity, a crown to call his own. His marriage to Constance had been to that end, but it had borne little fruit but a lone daughter and a hapless campaign. Lancaster sniffed, and dismounted his horse, so that the two might embrace. "Long may we forget the day that you were my enemy, and instead rejoice that your majesty shall become my daughter's father." Gaunt was shorter than his brothers Woodstock and Clarence, but stouter and muscular. He smiled ruefully, revealing a few missing teeth, and spread his arms.

[Oznerol]

Gaunt was several years older, the king of Castile was shy of his thirtieth year, an athletic man, yet not very tall, precisely. Pedro López de Ayala, the king's chancellor, had a great role in defining the terms of the treaty, which Gaunt had finallly complied to, and many would rejoice when the news spread: Pedro's cause was done for good and Castile, God willing, would enjoy many years of tranquility. Well, if Beatriz could give birth to a son...

Juan dimissed that thought for the time being: Aviz looked secure on his usurped throne. And his own nobles hadn't forgotten Aljubarrota.

"Shall God grant us many years of peace. I shall do my best to ensure nothing but friendship reigns between England and Castile. I also pray for Christendom's reunion and for our Holy Mother the Church to be again whole"

Castile supported Avignon, like France, as Juan pretty much owed his throne to the Valois. The king unmounted, his eyes looking blueish as he approached Gaunt.

"Come here and embrace me, my dearest Lord of Alencastre"

He would have to summon the Courts to pay that rascal, but every price was worth the English leaving and rennouncing their claims. Metal scratched metal as they embraced, firmly. The golden circlet atop Juan's bascinet shaked a little with the impact of two vigorous bodies.

[Gandalfus]

Lancaster embraced him manfully, and then retracted. The deal was done, and he could leave for home.

"I am relieved that your Majesty and myself part as allies and friends. I too shall pray for a lasting peace, as well as the Mother Church to be united in Christ." England had followed the Pope in Rome, mainly to spite the French who looked to Avignon. Likely, he could do little about that; Richard's will was his own.

Gaunt inclined his head, and then remounted his horse promptly. "We shall return to Aquitaine by the way of ships, from Portugal. May God be with you, Majesty."

[Oznerol]

"You have my permission to use my ports at Vizcaya to cross for Gascony"

The king had inherited Vizcaya and the extense domains of Haro through his mother, Juana Manuel, whose own mother belonged to that, now extinct, line.

"I believe it will be easier for your Lordship to use that way, if your troops and soldiery behave"

Sooner he left, the better.

[Gandalfus]

"My thanks, Majesty." Gaunt inclined his head with a slight grin, knowing that Juan was desperate for him to go. His time in Castile had come to and end, and it was time to leave for Gascony.

Thus did Lancaster leave, first returning to Portugal to fetch his court and bid farewell to its King, another John, who was now his son-in-law. They would then march peacefully north, to the port of Vizcaya, where they would secure passage over the short stretch of water into Gascony and Aquitaine. Gaunt has business to resolve there, for the inhabitants of that Duchy had been rowdy of late.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Roger de Stafford, a young lad but stout, stood in attendance as Gaunt concluded the negotiations. "A deal well struck, my Lord of Lancaster, though I would have preferred to see us triumphant upon this field." In all truth the lad was relieved to be returning to England after such a hard campaign.

[Gandalfus]

Roger de Stafford, a young lad but stout, stood in attendance as Gaunt concluded the negotiations. "A deal well struck, my Lord of Lancaster, though I would have preferred to see us triumphant upon this field." In all truth the lad was relieved to be returning to England after such a hard campaign.

Gaunt looked across from atop his horse at he who had addressed him - a young Stafford, some brother of the Earl who was apparently betrothed to his niece, Anne of Gloucester.

"They denied us battle, though such is the way of things." Lancaster replied, when well out of earshot of the departing Spanish delegation. For a moment, he mused silently. They had seen some small engagements, but nothing definitive in the way of battles. "You fought in the skirmishes, didn't you boy? Got a taste for your first battle?" ​

[Pontifex Maximus]

Gaunt looked across from atop his horse at he who had addressed him - a young Stafford, some brother of the Earl who was apparently betrothed to his niece, Anne of Gloucester.

"They denied us battle, though such is the way of things." Lancaster replied, when well out of earshot of the departing Spanish delegation. For a moment, he mused silently. They had seen some small engagements, but nothing definitive in the way of battles. "You fought in the skirmishes, didn't you boy? Got a taste for your first battle?" ​

"Aye, my Lord." Roger replied "And killed my first man in so doing. Would that these same had given us battle I would have been sure of our eventual victory." He said with the casual confidence of youth.

[Oznerol]

"Who is this?"

Said a voice with profound contempt.

"Ah, a Stafford. Brother of the late Ralph, yes?"

The voice belonged to a rather tall man, a raspy deep voice, uttered by cruel, thin lips. The condestable of John of Gaunt, John Holland.

"Our coffers will be refilled by this, father of mine. They will pay in good coin"

[Gandalfus]

"I shall pray for it. My purse is almost dry!" Gaunt chuckled with a rueful grimace. "A few weeks more and the men would have left us for France, the spineless cowards." Perhaps a little harsh; those who remained were perhaps the most loyal of them, the sellswords having deserted some weeks prior when dysentery was doing its rounds about the camp.

[Oznerol]

"At least we enjoyed my brother Portugal's hospitality"

John of Aviz had married Philippa of Lancaster, Holland's wife's elder sister.

"And could perform some deeds and feats of arms that will be celebrated by good Christians in France and England alike"

As Castile refused to openly face them in battle the English had entertained themselves with tourneys and other deeds of arms. Certainly, the campaign had lacked a major battle and the war that Trastamara waged had ended in Gaunt's defeat or lack of success.

[Gandalfus]

"Bah! Don't flatter me, son. It was a wasted effort, wouldn't you say Stafford?" ​Lancaster probed the lad with a wry grin, testing to see if the young squire had the courage to express any thoughts on the matter. "Perhaps we'll make a knight of you yet, boy. Though real battle isn't so half as drab as this... The foe actually stands to fight, by God!"

[Pontifex Maximus]

"Had the cowards given us battle it would have been a sure thing my Lord." He persisted "As it was, we were caught a bit flat footed methinks. Perhaps we are not accustomed to the style of warfare in these lands; as good Englishmen are prepared to meet foes honorably in the field. Caesar's own men stood to die of thirst here in years long past."

[Gandalfus]

"Caesar, eh?" Gaunt lips curled into a half-smile. Clearly, he was fond of any such comparison. "Aye, these men are not as foolish as the French, who simply charge into our arrows." He'd have to knight the boy when he had the chance; it could be a useful connection to have. Stafford's lands sat around some of his castles, or so he recalled.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Roger had found little use for learning Latin if not for the opportunity to read what little survived of their Roman tales of military exploits. "Aye my Lord, it is a weak sovereign who relies upon the poorness of his own lands to deprive his enemy of a fair battle. When shall we depart?" He inquired