[SS 6.4] The English-Aragon Conflict

[Alwyn]

I agree with Caillagh, not including details of the 'accidents' encourages readers to imagine what might have happened. Like the others who commented, I am continuing to enjoy this!

[DrAndrew]

Latest update. Happy new year fellas.
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“The de Normandie Royal Family: Treason, Lies and the Aragon War.” Royal Library of London. Fragment.
1208. Barcelona Region Hills. Dusk. Summer. Chronicler of battle.

“My lord, there he is. Over the mountain.”
“I see him. His gait is unmistakable.”
“Milord, he’s carrying a white flag. He’s trying to surrender.”
“It is too late now, Sergeant. Far too late.” Added Lord de Normandie in a longing whisper. “Captain, get the horse companies ready. I’m going to get mybrother.” And with that, Lord de Normandie stepped out of the tent, gazed in the direction of his brother and sighed the sigh of the mourning.

The fall of Stephen de Normandie becomes blurry at this point since the Royal Chronicler stayed with the main force attacking the remnants of Prince Tenorio’s armies and recording the events there. The historians that have worked on this book have tried by all means to get an exact, unbiased historical account of all the events surrounding the Fall of the Traitor, as Stephen would be known in the annals of history.
One of the accounts claims that the de Normandie brothers clashed on the battlefield, and according to witnesses Thomas beheaded his brother on the first thrust, and then was felled by the charge of one of Stephen’s Guardia Real. We know for a fact that the two clashed, however we also know that Thomas survived, which makes this particular tale dubious, if somewhat accurate. The tale most widely accepted by scholars and historians alike is, however biased, the one given by one of Stephen's surviving bodyguards. The tale begins like so…

On a crisp summer afternoon, we saw the Royal Army getting ready for sallying out. After 8 long years, the council finally decided to either lose the city to the invading British 3^rd Army or burned to the ground to keep the Britons from conquering it. I was getting my armor in place when the bell rang and after getting the horses, we went to battle.
Lord Estiven, as we Spaniards took to calling him, was as regal as ever. A great commander in the Moorish wars, body crisscrossed by war scars, proud eyes and a striking face. You’d never guess he defected over to our side because of love. He was married to Princess Leyda, which in turn made him 3^rd in line for the Corona Real. He actually loved the forsaken woman.

We rode over to the hill and were saddle sore and stiff. The heat was damning, and soon enough we would start to feel the lack of water. We conferred with our lord to see our battle plan. We were meant to reinforce Prince Tenorio’s striking force, but when we got there, the army was routed and being chased down while the Prince laid sprawled in a heap, his head on a pike as a warning of what happens when you defy British rule.

“He was a good and just man. He did NOT deserve this.” Stammered Antonio, who served in the Prince’s guard for some time before transferring to Estiven’s guard.
“This is war, and this is a brutal reminder of who we’re facing lads. Never forget this sight.” Admitted lord Estiven, looking at the carcass of the Prince and what was left of the 1er Ejercito Real de la Corona.

“Lads, grab your lances, we’ve been spotted.” Announced Jose, another guard.

“Brother. Is that you? Have you come for me at last?” asked Estiven, to one in particular while lowering the visor of his helm, gripping the lance tight under his shoulder. “CHARGE MEN! POR LA CORONA, LOS MATAMOS HOY!” and he started going down the hill at full speed.

That first downhill charge met the other side’s horses with such force that almost everyone was dismounted at once. The Guardia lost many men because we did not see the Miles behind the Royal Guard, and they killed most of us when we were down. I was trapped under my horse, but I pretended to be dead. Estiven and Thomas were right next to me. Thomas held his brother’s head, bloodied, but conscious. They both appeared to be unhorsed, however, Thomas fared much better than his brother, because he could stand. Estiven’s legs were under his horse, bent at awkward angles.

He asked his brother a single question. He wanted to know why he defected. Estiven said that it has to do with their father, and how he never treated them properly. He told the story of how he met Princess Leyda, and how she was there when no one else was. Thomas was crying. He said, “I was always there, until you were not anymore.” And with that, he plunged his blade into his brother’s heart, held him, and started weeping.

[Alwyn]

Good update! The description of Lord Estiven and the cavalry charge are particularly well done - and the ending makes me want to know what will happen next.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Alwyn's right - there's some very nice description in this chapter!

[Owlparrot3]

The ending is great and really brings out the emotions .Great job .

[Axis Sunsoar]

I really think you did a good job of conveying the press of the battle and the thunder of the charging one moment and then having it suddenly be so personal and emotional between the two brothers.
I continue to enjoy the historical style that you use with the suggestion of various scraps of first-hand sources.
Continue your great writing!

[NorseThing]

A great update. I wonder though -- there seems to be more than one reason why Estiven died at his brothers hand while crushed and broken. I would hate to suggest that it was only to put him out of severe misery. I am guessing my memory has once again failed. I will need to go back and do some rereading. That is all for the good though.

[DrAndrew]

Hello fellas, it's been a while. Sorry for not being able to write again. I'm currently at work and I just cooked up this update for you. Mind you, it does not have as many descriptions as the ones before it, but I believe it was necessary so that you guys kinda picture what the state of the campaing was during these tense moments. With that said, enjoy!
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“The de Normandie Royal Family: Treason, Lies and the Aragon War.” Royal Library of London. Excerpt from “King James and the Aragonese War” Chapter 24 “Decisive Battles against Aragon: The battle for the Barcelona Hills. An analysis of facts and effects.”


In order to understand this point of the hell bent revenge against the Aragonese crown we have to Highlight a few key facts. First, the Spaniards at this time were reduced to three holdings: Barcelona, Valencia and Frankfurt, which they won in a crusade against the Holy Roman Empire (they lost Pamplona in an earlier battle against Lord Guy de Normandie and his protégé at time). They were desperate and in need of funding. Barcelona and Valencia were key trading ports aiding the war effort. They were surrounded by the moors to the west, and the English to the North and West. The moors would not trade with the Spaniards fearing the reaction of the Englishmen, and the rest of Europe was either in domination of the British Empire, held at bay by it, or locked in deadly combat against the Kievan Rus, the Lithuanians, the Novgorodians or any of the other so called “heathens” in the East. The Aragonese Crown had no way of putting the empire back together but total war. This would eventually be their undoing.


Second: the morale and status of the Aragonese army at this point in war was dismal. They had no funding for food, no equipment, no money to train the troops (which at the time consisted mostly of city trained, militia quality units) and of top of it all they were crawling with debt when the government moved to Frankfurt, thinking and in hopes that having the capital close to the other European powers would be beneficial. A smart move that backfired spectacularly when France, Genoa and the Holy Roman Empire, allies of the Aragonese Crown, were soundly defeated by the British Empire. This not only weakened an already weak Aragon, but ended putting the final nail in the coffin with the treaty that was signed at the end of the war, known as the Frankfurt Peace Treaty, or as it was colloquially know by the British forces “The Spaniard -up”.


Third: The Spaniard Army went up against the 3rd Royal British Army. These were the armies that went in ships for months at a time to Norway, fought bitter cold temperatures, destroyed and sacked Norwegian towns and villages, came back to mainland England to defend it against banditry and went out again when France tried to conquer Caen. They squabbled against themselves and bandits. Fought bitter wars against French, Norwegians, German and Polish regular armies. Conquered and sacked the Parisian capital and plundered everything going up and down the Seine, Loire, Dorgonne and Garonne rivers. They conquered the last Spanish castle that was not owned by the Moors (Pamplona) and were fighting the Danish armies at this point in time on the other side of the continent. To say that they were experienced soldiers is a huge understatement.


Fourth: The Spaniard Army was just a jumbled up militia consisting of sword and axe infantry and a few lancers with a few merchant horses with a crossbow division or two as a mean of support. The individual compositions of the infantry division were laughable at best. They were composed of teen barely growing facial hair and not used to the army rhythm. The horses were merchant owned and operated like merchant horses, not bred to travel long distances in a short amount of time and with very little armor to hold against arrows or sword slashes. The crossbow division presented some danger, but it was quickly neutralized by the British longbow and soon proved inadequate against the British Army. Not only did it have a shorter range against the comparatively larger range of the longbow, it was also more inaccurate and needed steady solders to present any kind of actual threat. A British heavy cavalry division and a group of foot Knights were the only necessary elements to completely wipe out a support division, such as this crossbow one. Most soldiers, being so young, would panic when the row of horses was seen advancing on their position and turn around, only to find the foot knight ready to tear them to pieces while the cavalry destroyed them from the back. Maximum morale destruction, minimum English casualties.

[NorseThing]

Your comment about the youth of the soldiers made me look at some of Napoleons problems of youth as the wars truly exhausted the men of France. I found this on the net and it seems to fit:

The regiments of Young Guard had sappers. These men wore tall bearskins and white leather aprons and marched at the head of the regiments. The only problem was with meeting the requirement of having beards by the sappers. Paul de Bourgoing wrote: "Choose the 12 men who seem to have the thickest beards, or are likely to grow them. Above all, don't take any blondes or redheads; only men with black beards, whom you'll place out in front.... Most were still beardless."

http://napolun.com/mirror/web2.airma...infantry_1.htm

Thanks for the update!

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Choosing men by the thickness of their beards seems to me like a very strange way to pick soldiers, NorseThing!

DrAndrew, it's good to see you here again.

I like this update. Sometimes what you need is explanation, and this update does that well. (Good description is a great thing, but if good description is all you have, that doesn't make a story. There's no need to try and force lots of description into everything - use it where it's needed, and do something else where it isn't. )

[Alwyn]

It sounds like the soldiers of Aragon and even Spain were in a hopeless situation. Good update!

[DrAndrew]

Hey guys! New update. As usual, waiting for your thoughts and opinions!
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“The de Normandie Royal Family: Treason, Lies and the Aragon War.” Royal Library of London. Excerpt from “King James and the Aragonese War” Chapter 25 “Decisive Battles against Aragon: The battle for the Barcelona Hills. Retelling of the battle.”
1208. Barcelona Region Hills. Dusk. Summer. Chronicler of battle.

This is a retelling of what became known as the battle for the Barcelona Hills, and it comes from the memory of the Royal Chronicler, Lord Stephen Bark.
“The battle at the hills started with the blaring of horns. The gold streaked field, full of parched, yellow brittle grass made perfect terrain for the cavalry units and easy trips for both armies. The sun envelops the horizon as it falls under the night sky, giving way to dusk. The Duke is at the helm of the Army, emblazoned in rich and fine cut armor. He looks like a lion, ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey. We have brought a mangonel and a few Yeoman Archers.

These are people who, according to folklore, have never missed a shot. They will be put to the test today. We have brought along 3 corps of Dismounted King’s Men and a lot of Foot Men at Arms and Heavy Swordsmen. They will tear this Spaniard Militia apart. Duke Thomas himself is leading the Cavalry as he has during so many battles in this bloody war. The Aragonese have recovered Zaragoza from the moors, and I’ve received news that Pamplona has fallen against the might of Lord Fiennes. I always thought the lad would be a great commander, and here I am, proven right once again. I digress, I must return to my obligations. I am here to retell the battle of Barcelona, which is what I’ll do.

Once the horns blared the infantry moved up the golden slopes as a huge wave. The captain that the Duke left in charge ordered 2 cavalry units to the sides, as a mean of flanking force. The main corps of infantry advanced against the Spaniard militia. Once they met in the middle, true carnage began. The King’s Men and heavy Swordsmen were showing their battle prowess, hacking and slashing this and that way. One of the Heavy Swordsmen battled one on one with Captain Santiago, the Captain in charge of this militia.

He was captured and decapitated. Once the rest of the Spanish troops saw what had happened to their captain and realized that they were not playing games anymore, they threw down their weapons and surrendered unconditionally. We captured about 1000 Spanish men and weapons and executed them a few days later after their King would not pay the ransom we demanded.

At one point before the initial charge, the Duke and I became separated. I found him later, covered in blood and holding a corpse close to him. I realized right then that the treacherous bastard that is Stephen came out of hiding with the Army and was felled by his own brother. The Duke wept bitterly while the Army was rounding up the remains of the army which had already broken at this point in the battle. The whole battle must have lasted a few hours, but it became especially significant. From this day on, Duke Thomas became a different man. He festered and fostered a burning and blazing hatred for this part of Europe and especially against the Aragonese.”

1212 AD. Barcelona Region.
Taken from the Journals of Thomas de Normandie. Barcelona City Hall. Summer.
The war is ending, at last. We have suffered a few setbacks. Pamplona is back again in enemy hands. Reginald Fiennes started sieging it. Pamplona will fall soon, and we will sack it and destroy it. But while my armies conquer and succeed, my heart grieves.

Father has died and I’ve murdered my brother.

Father has died and I’ve murdered my brother.

Let those words sink in and bite my wounds. They’ve left poor Thomas alone in the world. Poor Thomas, who is now king of a nation besieged by conflict. I weep for my father and brother while holding this bloody crown. I need an end to the conflict. I need it now. With Barcelona safely in English hands, we are effectively cutting off the flow of money to the Spanish King, Diego de la Corunia. Our next target in this region is Zaragoza, where the King resides. He will be brought to justice and pay for his crimes against my family. I will not let him go so easily.

[Alwyn]

Good battle, this sounds like an a turning point for the character of Duke Thomas. I wonder what the consequences of his changed personality will be.

[DrAndrew]

Hey guys! This is a stand alone story, but one that happen in the same campaign. Again, brief novelization. Sorry for not being able to provide pics. Anyway, lloking forawrd to hear what you guys think!

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It is now 1121 of the year of our Lord, and I’m standing at the gates of Galway, the last rebel bastion of this godforsaken island. I take a look around me, breathing in the salty air and the smell of ashes floods my nostrils. I open my eyes to see the town burning. What chaos. What destruction. This is what happens when you defy British rule.

I look over my shoulder and see the boy become a man. I see the man become a monster. I see the monster loose on the street. Looting and sacking abound, and no one is safe. No matter if you swear by the King or by the rebel. If you’re not in the sacking army, you’re in the wrong army. People were always in the wrong army against us.

The siege and sacking of Galway was a stroll through the woods for them. The rebels, or “independent Kings” as they like to be called, lost most of their archers first. They either fell by arrow fire or died trampled to death by the horses. Our infantry crushed whatever sort of organized defense the town put up. We owe this victory to the cunning Lord Stephen de Blois. If he weren’t at the helm of our army I probably would not be writing this to you brother. I look at our commander and cannot help but wonder how is it that this lad, who’s barely grown any hair at all, be such an excellent tactician?

We were on our way to Galway coming from our victory over at Dublin. The army had become heavily depleted. Jon, Gunther, and Stephen went to meet their maker that day. In the end, these Welsh rebels lost even more. They lost their freedom. I’m sorry brother, I ramble and digress. After so much war I’ve lost the ability to focus. We were on our way to Galway with Lord Commander Stephen de Blois, 14 years old, at the helm of the army. After a few hard nights and days of forced march, coupled with casualties from the fierce winter months, we finally arrived to the outskirts of the city. In it we found a wooden palisade and a few watchtowers, but we did not worry about much about them. We were much more concerned about the garrison of Yeoman archers. Nasty buggers. Deadly up close, even deadlier from afar, and impossible to bribe.

As a captain, I was forced to attend strategy meetings. This would be the first one such since Lord de Blois came with us. He was not on the front lines during the Battle of Dublin, but he was on the side. Watching. Learning. Plotting.

“What do we have men? I do not want to go to this rebel and ask for the key. I might get an arrow at the back.” commanded Lord de Blois, flashing a grin and looking at his captains assembled around the map of the city laid out on the table of the war tent.

“Lord Commander” Rupert Brinne, captain of another infantry division, said “we currently have 4 sets of ladders, one for each of four companies. To that, we can add a battering ram and a whole lot of arrows.”

“Our army has 2 horse divisions, 2 companies of peasants from the fields, 4 reduced Fyrd spearman companies, 1 spear militia and 5 archer militia companies that came from Dublin, a company of Gwent Raiders and a company of Saxon Huscarls along with your Personal Bodyguard My Liege.” Captain Guy added, head of one of the Fyrd companies.

“Give the ladders to the Peasants. I need two access points.” Stated Lord de Blois, pointing at two wall sections on the map of the city. “One close to the gate with the battering ram, another one around the edge of the castle, away from the watchtowers. Have everybody except the Hurscarls and the Gwent raiders form a killing box at the front gate as soon as it’s down. The Fyrd companies should man the ladders. If there are not enough companies share them with the Spear Militia. Archers will provide support and cover fire. Once the gate is down have them position themselves at the front of the killing box and just mow down anyone who is dumb enough to stand in front of the breach. Should they rush out, I want every able man holding them at the gate in kill-box formation. Rush their sides, keep them away from the archers and let them fire on their flanks. Once they are locked in place I want a shower of arrows on them. Draw and shoot, no time to waste.

“Lit or doused arrows my liege?” Captain Grimm, head of one of the archer companies asked.

“Normal arrows for now. We want to kill them, not set the town ablaze. Not yet.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Orders understood? Great. Now, we should look at the supply list for the battle…”

A messenger came and trampled the entrance to the makeshift tent. Once he recovered his breath he uttered the following:
“THE REBELS ARE COMING, THE REBELS ARE COMING!”

“Fantastic” grinned Lord de Blois. “MEN, you have yer’ orders. See to them.” He grabbed his helm, strapped it on and went looking for his horse.

[NorseThing]

A great 'update'. I hope to hear more about the assault on Dublin.

[DrAndrew]

Hey Guys! New Update!
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1212 AD. Pamplona.Summer.
Taken from the War Record. 2^nd Battle for Pamplona.

General Fiennes stood looking at the horizon. He inhaled deeply and began his speech for the troops: “We have driven them to starvation, once again. We have forced them to come out and hit us with all their might, once again. We have raided their supplies and fed our armies. Stolen their whetstones and sharpened our blades. Sacked their towns and taken their women. We have made them angry beyond the point of reason. We have made them barbaric in their assault. This will be a massacre. And we… will… be… victors!”

The troops stomped their feet, clanged their shields and yelled “Aye, Aye General!”. He dismounted and told the archer companies to set up a perimeter of stakes. He then formed a square with the archer companies. Where there was a spot left he’d cover it with a lancer company. Horses would not be getting through the troops. Behind the archers were the regular troops. Divisions of King’s Men, Foot men at Arms and Heavy Swordsmen were ready to take the helm of battle.

The general and his Cavalry division set up hidden in the woods, meant to be a flanking/rounding force while the main corps of infantry was up the hill. The army waited. They would have to fight Spaniards tired from the day’s march. Spaniards that were mere boys in most cases. Spaniards that did not have the training or equipment to go against this army. And Spaniards that were traitors. Or rather, English turncoats.

“Are you certain it’s them captain?”

“Yes General. I served along Rudolph and Gaius for over 10 years. I’d recognize them and their bows anywhere.”

“I am sorry for forcing you to do this, Captain. I would rather it not be this way, but you’ve read King Thomas’ Royal Missive. He says none are to be spared, no matter who they are.”

“Aye, Sir. I read it.” He spat on the ground with disgust. “Doesn’t mean I have to follow it.”

The General eyed the Captain for a long time. He decided that this Captain should not survive. “Aye. It’s time. They are almost here. Gather your men.”

The battle was about to begin. The troops went to their positions and waited. Bows were strung, arrows were loaded and men were ready. The Spaniards were closing in. The horses were trying to find an opening in the perfect English box. They were not successful. They decided to charge, and that was their first mistake. The Aragonese Cavalry was torn to shreds by the Yeoman Archer arrows, which flew true and wiped out the biggest threat to the English army.

Once the cavalry was dealt with, the Captains commanding the armies decided to commit their 2^nd mistake. They sent their infantry to charge in. They did it in a smart way, one bulk of the infantry went on one side and a small force went to the other. The infantry in the big bulk was slowly being torn to pieces by arrow fire and the battle prowess of the King’s Men and Heavy Swordmen corps. The small force would have been successful in neutralizing the arrow fire had it not been because of one mistake. They went in the direction where the cavalry was hiding. Once they started running towards the army, the cavalry stepped out of hiding and wiped them out, capturing their captain, a guy named Santiago. After crushing the flanking force the General used hammer and anvil tactics to destroy or capture what was left of the 4^th Ejercito Real. Half the army routed. Half was captured in this battle. Another battle was held a few days ago were the remnants of the 4^th Ejercito Real were captured and put to the sword. The English captain and the Longbow companies were executed for high treason. No one dared question the orders of the King afterward. A few weeks later the gates of Pamplona fell and General Fiennes marched through the town square to execute every noble that did not bend the knee to King Thomas. It was a Bloody Sunday.



“Treatise on English possessions in Europe and the Iberian Political situation (Years 1212 – 1217) Royal Library of London.

The political climate of the years 1212 to 1217 was one of total political upheaval. The sudden death of King James, just after a few years on the throne left a political mess and a power vacuum in the kingdom.

With one of the Normandie boys defected, another one chasing him down and the other with no political ambitions or aspirations the ruling dynasty did not have an easy time compared to other English kings. The highlights of these years where the crusades on Vienna and the final rupture of diplomatic relations with the Holy Roman Empire to enter a state of total war against them.

Militarily speaking it was a fruitful period, with the conquests of Pamplona and the Fall of Zaragoza which ended pushing the Aragonese Crown to the breaking point. The taking of Zaragoza was vital to put a huge dent in the economic might of the Aragonese Crown. The deaths of Prince Tenorio and Kings Fernando and Pablo a few years earlier also left a political disaster in the Aragonese holding, one which led to a power struggle in which King Diego de la Corunia rose as champion and took residence in Zaragoza.

Loyalty to the crown and relations with King Thomas are strained. King Thomas, who at the beginning of his reign was not really trusted by the English people, coupled with the fact that the whole country was not feeling great about entering a gruesome war just for vengeance did not help ease tensions. England’s once allies took advantage of this and acted swiftly, forming coalitions and alliances with which they thought they could topple the world power. One of these nations was the Holy Roman Empire, now reduced to a few crumbling provinces. After a few misjudged moves they were excommunicated and the Spaniards jumped at the chance.

They asked for a crusade on Vienna, which the Pope happily agreed to. Pope Clemens also coerced King Thomas by means of excommunication to join the crusade against the Holy Roman Empire, signaling the end of relations between the Germans and British circa 1215. At the same time, the Danish-English War was in full momentum, which contributed to destabilizing Europe even more.

The siege of Zaragoza begins in the year 1217 and ends the following year with the head of King Pablo adorning the walls of the city. The Aragonese have no lasting possessions in Iberia, but they still have a presence in mainland Europe, mainly Nuremberg and Vienna.

[NorseThing]

A good update. I do wonder about the wisdom of a King who orders via a missive that none are to be spared. Rough and worse it takes in out of the hands of the commander in the field. I wonder if this will have future repercussions? Challenges of loyalty to the King in the field when men surrender? Challenges to the commander by the King when he lets some prisoners go free? Hmmmm? Lots of potential here.

[Alwyn]

Good update! NorseThing's suggestions look helpful to me.

[DrAndrew]

Hey guys! Long time, no see. This wirting is nearly done. I'm thinking of starting the Danish Wars, but it may take a while to do so. As always, your thoughts are welcomed.
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The Fall of Zaragoza. Folk Tale. Sung in bars to this day. Notice the absence of rhymes.

T’was the season for killing!

The town was a riot!

The Kings became beggars!

The beggars became kings!

The gates were opened for the marching grand army!

They brought bread, wine, and women!

They wanted the King and Queen!

They went looking for them. They found them. They hung them from the city gates!

Now thanks to the Brits we have bread, wine, and women!

All it cost us was a King and Queen! We didn’t like them anyway!

All Hail King Thomas! All Hail England!


Royal Quarters. Lyon border camp. 1229 AD.
10 years have passed since the fall of Zaragoza. The papal edict demanding a ceasefire and that England stops their conquest of the Aragonese grounded the forces of King Thomas to a halt. The King has not been idle for ten years however, since he turned his sights on the Muslims threatening his tenuous hold on the Iberian Peninsula. He has been warring with them ever since the Papal Edict and has been able to secure some favor in the church through the forced conquest of the Muslims. At the moment the English dominate half the peninsula, with some keeps occupied by the Portuguese Crown, and the rest taken by the Almoravid Empire, which is proving to be more than a fair match for the English forces.

The Royal Messenger gasped as he opened the tent. He did not mean to intrude upon his Majesty. He found him clothing himself, with his wife soundly sleeping on the bed. He looked at the woman and could not help but marvel at her astonishing beauty. He almost forgot why he was there until the King cleared his throat loudly and stared at him with a puzzled look on his face.
“My king, word from the church” he stammered, whittled down by the look the King gave him. “I’m sorry to intrude.”

“It is of no matter. Give it here” King Thomas grabbed the folded letter from the emissary and began tearing it open. “You may leave unless you’d like to have a go at my wife.”

The messenger turned blood red and stammered a few more apologies. He turned around quickly and left the tent the way he found it.

“You did not have to treat him like that, love.” Came a purring voice from between the sheets. “He was just admiring me. Besides, don’t you think it’ll help your reputation? Fearless leader, intrepid king with a wife that is fairer than the sun?” the voice giggled from between the sheets. The voice came with long, shapely legs, wide hips, and a beautiful figure. It also had golden brown cascading curly hair and big, luscious lips. Emerald eyes accompanied the most beautiful face in the Kingdom.

“What good will it do?” answered the King absentmindedly. “My reputation comes from military might, not from being liked by other people. Besides, they never really liked me anyway. And they probably won’t. But that will change today. I hope.”

“And how will that happen?” asked the purring voice again.

“I can’t discuss it here, but suffice to say that I’ve been delivered some great news from our church.”

“Oh, and what news might they be? They were not happy with us sacking Zaragoza. Can’t think they might be happier now that we have control over most of Iberia.”

“You will see soon enough. I must go and gather the war council. History will be made today.” Replied the King and gave a kiss to his wife. He was tempted to climb back into bed and lose himself with her, but the letter in his hands burned like molten steel and something had to be done about it.

War Council. Lyon Border Camp. 1229 AD.
The King strode in holding the letter in his hands. He looked around the room and was pleased to see all the nobles that had traveled with him to conquer Zaragoza were here. True, they did not bear happy faces nor were they ecstatic about being dragged from bed at such an early hour. But they were here, and he knew that they supported him, even though they each had their own agenda.
The King took his place at the helm of the long table placed in the war council tent and the nobles sat down after their King did. He looked at each of them, measuring them and their moods. He decided to begin by reading the letter he was given an hour earlier.

“My Lords. I called upon you at this time and so early because I have a dire need of your attention. I have received a missive from the church which I’d like to share with you. Please, hear the missive first, and then we’ll propose actions.” He looked at them inquisitively before continuing. He had chosen the exact words. Most of them stirred and looked with disgust at the mention of the Church. None had any love for Pope Clemens III. “The missive goes:

King Thomas! You are hereby excommunicated from the Holy Church, based on your actions against the Holy and Pious town of Zaragoza and the Armies of the Royal Spanish Crown of Aragon. Refrain from associating with us, the Holy Church, any longer! You are no longer welcomed in Rome and we decline any relation or support to your warlike nature.

You remind us of the foul Muslims, with their heathen ways and their lack of respect for the pious and righteous. We hereby declare you heathens and enemies of the church and any armies which may want to lay siege to your cities and castles will have our full support from here on out.

The church commands that you repent your sins and to relinquish the righteous lands taken by force from the Kingdom of Aragon. If you decline be warned that there will be dire consequences both for you and your people. Rome has the capability of shattering your nation and taking your cities. We do not fear you either, for God will be on our side when the time for reckoning comes.

Pope Clemens III, Rome. 1229 AD”

“Why did they choose to excommunicate us now? There have not been any war actions on the Aragonese for some time. My King, why did they make that choice?” asked Lord Montfort, one of the generals in the tent.

“One of our support armies was ambushed headed towards Danish territory to help in the war effort. They had to cross the land across Nuremberg. They were slaughtered to the last man.” Said the King heavily, mourning the losses of the men.

The people at the war council gasped and eyed the King warily. One of the Merchants could not control himself. “Foul Muslims? The bastard was caught with his pants down with a small child not a year ago, and he has the NERVE to tell US that we remind him of THE FOUL MUSLIMS?! I WILL NOT HAVE IT!” bellowed lord Wess, a big noble and one of the powerhouses of King Thomas’ army. He supplied most of the iron needed to fit the troops.

“Based on our actions? The treacherous bastard gave his full support to the Holy Roman Empire when they decided to break trade with us, preparing for war. Talk about cheeky. What does that tell us about the Church? They are not to be trusted!” added Lord Byron, a noble who provided most of the archer troops in the armies. “besides, who does he think he is, condemning our actions! We were led to this war because HE believed it was just and fair to avenge the treachery of Lord Stephen. There are letters that back that up!”

“Those letters must have been shredded by now, knowing this swine.” Added Lord Salisbury, the shipwright. “He has no honor. No ethics. No sense of morality. He is one of the most depraved persons in that unholy city that is Rome. He revolts me.” He added and spat on the ground with thick phlegm.

“What this treacherous person thinks is of no consequence. He will be brought to justice and made to pay for his sins.” Added the King gravely and continued “Now, what is really important is this. This is a window of opportunity. This letter is insulting at best. Despicable at worst. We have in our hands a document which pretty much leaves us free to wage war on the Spaniards and conquer them, once and for all.”

“What of the Viking threat?” Lord Armherst, a wealthy noble that had funded a fair share of the conflict through lucrative trade grants in the regions conquered asked.

“The Vikings will be dealt with in due time. Fear not.”

“I heard that they’ve captured an English fort and put it to the sword in the Flanders. They say that that Gotfred Knudsson is a real bastard and a cheap fighter. What are going to do about it?” Asked Lord Anselm, another wealthy noble that had funded a share of the war.

“We will march to them, and conquer. I’ve dispatched the son of Lucius Tyrell, Philibert, to deal with the Viking threat. He should be more than a match for those Barbarians.” Answered the King confidently. “Anyway, this meeting is about what to do with the Spaniards, not the Vikings. At this moment they hold the provinces of Nuremberg and Vienna. Both incapable of producing troops such as ours, but capable of funding a big enough army to defend them. Since the Pope no longer supports us who really cares about what the church thinks? I’d say we strike the Spaniards hard and fast. Hit them where it hurts and finally humiliate them.” Finished the King with obvious disgust in his speech.

The nobles rallied to his cause. You could see the eyes of the merchants already popping with figures when they’d decided what to do with the loot gathered at Zaragoza and Valencia. And now they were dangling Vienna and Nuremberg in their faces. They were the first to say yes to the action plan proposed by the King. The armies were reluctant at first, but when the merchants decided to back their lavish funding and just provide basic necessities they sang the right tune.

The war machine was moving towards Nuremberg with one intent: conquest.

[Alwyn]

The folk song is a nice touch, I can imagine it being sung to the sound of medieval instruments. The reaction of the nobles to the news in the letter is done well. The King sounds confident, I wonder if the news in the letter will make the campaign against Spain harder than he expects.